Category: English

Before the company went public, the intern suggested serving boba tea to our foreign investors. My boyfriend said, “That’s creative. Stop crushing new talent.” The shareholders chimed in, “Boba tea is so down-to-earth. It’s not like the investors are royalty.” I didn’t say a word. I just quietly swapped it for black tea and a fruit platter before the meeting started. The deal was a success, but she went on a livestream, crying that I had bullied her and stolen her credit. My boyfriend’s silence was his agreement. The live comments were a storm of ridicule, and the trending hashtag was everywhere: “Audrey Collins, get out of the business world.” I was murdered with a can of gasoline. My mother died of a heart attack. My father was killed in a hit-and-run, and no one dared to help him. Reborn into a second life, I just nod. “Fine. Just remember to add extra sugar.” Then I turn around, quit, and take every single investor with me. 1 “I just think, for the investor reception, we don’t have to be so… formal.” Chloe’s voice was soft as she stood before the conference table, a tablet cradled in her hands. She wore a simple white dress, her eyes wide and clear. “Something like artisanal boba… it’s a local, trendy brand that’s relaxed but also has a strong identity. It could reflect the young, vibrant atmosphere of our company.” As she spoke, she swiped through her presentation. Images of colorful boba teas flashed across the screen, paired with macarons and miniature cupcakes. It looked less like a pitch for serious investors and more like a mood board for an office party. I stared at the screen, my face a carefully composed mask of neutrality. Underneath the table, my fingers slowly curled into a tight fist. I had been in this meeting before. In another life. The last time she suggested boba, I shot it down immediately. I pointed out that one of the key partners from Dalton Capital had Type 2 diabetes and another had a severe dairy allergy. She had teared up on the spot. “Does Audrey… not like me?” My boyfriend, Ethan, had given me a cold look. “Don’t be so petty, Audrey.” Later that night, she went live on Instagram, sobbing to her followers about how I used my power to crush her ideas. That video got over a million views. And when the deal finally closed—thanks to my back-breaking work—she got all the credit. I was branded the toxic, creativity-killing female executive. Then came the breakup with Ethan. The systematic purge from the company I helped build. The relentless, suffocating wave of online hate. And then, the gasoline. I died in a blaze so hot it left me unrecognizable. When my father came to identify the body, he collapsed on the spot. A fatal brain hemorrhage. My mother, upon seeing the single, sterile line of text on the cremation certificate, suffered a massive heart attack. A neighbor found her hours later, long after her last breath had passed. And Chloe? She took everything that was mine, walked onto a stage in a custom couture gown to accept an award, and said, “I want to thank Audrey for teaching me what it means to be a professional.” I am reborn. Reborn in this conference room, as she says the words again, proposing boba tea for our most important investors. I watched the corner of her mouth. That faint, almost imperceptible smirk. She was waiting for me to object, just like last time. But this time, I didn’t give her the satisfaction. “I think it’s a great idea,” I said, my voice cutting smoothly through her presentation. I smiled. “Boba is young, it’s trendy, it’s creative. Chloe, you’ve put a lot of thought into this.” She froze. A strange, heavy silence fell over the room. “When you’re hosting executives,” I continued, my smile unwavering, “you want to show them who you are.” Ethan glanced at me, the corners of his lips lifting in a subtle, pleased curve. As if he was finally seeing the compliant woman he always wanted me to be. “Well, if Audrey’s on board, then let’s move forward with the plan,” he said. The room exhaled. A chorus of agreement followed. “The younger generation just gets it.” “Right? We don’t always have to do that stuffy English high tea thing.” “Who doesn’t love boba?” I let my gaze drift over the faces of my old friends around the table. The same ones who held my feet to the fire in my last life, all while claiming it was for the good of the company. This time, I’ll let you burn yourselves. I excused myself from the room and pulled out my phone, dialing a number from memory. “Noah,” I said, my voice low. “You told me once that you had a standing offer for me. Senior partner, equity, full decision-making authority… is that still on the table?” There was a pause on the other end, then a rich, knowing laugh. “Always. For you, Audrey, my door is always open.” “Good,” I said. “Then let’s talk.” 2 In my last life, Chloe stood in the center of this same room. White dress, ponytail, tablet in hand, selling her boba tea gospel with a pure smile and a gentle voice. I couldn’t help but offer a word of caution. “We’re hosting the executive partners from Dalton Capital, not a panel of TikTok influencers.” She flinched. Her lips trembled. “Does Audrey… not like me?” Ethan, sitting right beside her, shot back at me, his voice sharp. “Are you targeting her?” I was stunned into silence. “You’re just jealous,” he’d said, his voice dropping, “that she’s young, charming, and that people actually like her.” The room was silent. Then, one by one, the other partners chimed in. “What’s wrong with a little creativity? Maybe we’re just too old to get it.” In that moment, I understood. It didn’t matter if you were right. If you weren’t fragile and doe-eyed, if you didn’t know how to play the victim, no one would ever take your side. And she played it perfectly. That night, she went live on Instagram. The title of the stream was: 【I was bullied into silence at my dream internship today 】 She sat in what was clearly a staged, poorly-lit corner of her apartment, her clothes artfully damp, her eyes red and puffy. She cried as she spoke. “I suggested using a local boba brand for a reception, and my boss, the VP… she called me an idiot in front of everyone… I just don’t understand. Are young people not allowed to have ideas?” The comments exploded. 【Who treats an intern like that in 2025?】 【This is a textbook case of workplace abuse. That VP is toxic.】 【I’m reporting Audrey Collins. She has no right to be in a leadership position.】 【Sounds like she’s just threatened by someone younger and more creative.】 I had just gotten out of a late-night meeting. I opened Twitter to see my name trending for all the wrong reasons. It was my birthday. I opened my private social media, and a new post was at the top of my feed. It was from Ethan. 【Hoping every intern with a good idea gets to see it through without being maliciously shut down.】 The picture was a cup of boba tea, held next to Chloe’s tear-stained face. I texted him immediately. What the hell is this? His reply was instant. Figure it out yourself. It was followed by a voice memo, his tone cold and detached. “Audrey, I don’t think this is working anymore.” I drove to his office like a madwoman. I just wanted to ask him, “What did I do wrong?” He sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable. “The deal is done. Chloe’s concept was a hit with the secondary investors. Right now, the company needs a symbol, a fresh face. It doesn’t need your… emotional volatility.” “A symbol?” I gritted out. “After five years of building this company with you, I’m just a ‘symbol’?” “Can you please be rational?” He sounded annoyed. “Look at yourself right now. You’re hysterical.” I was fired the next day. A termination letter was slid unceremoniously across my desk. I became the poster child for toxic female leadership. The media invented stories about my “chaotic personal life,” my “abusive management style,” my “pathological need for control as an aging woman in tech.” Someone went to my parents’ small town and filmed a vlog outside the community clinic where my mother worked, narrating, “What kind of person could come from a family like this?” My father tried to stop them and the stress of it all sent his blood pressure skyrocketing. The day they threw the gasoline on me was two days after Christmas. They cornered me outside an old warehouse. A group of them, their faces twisted with self-righteous anger. They called me a “corporate monster,” a “parasite who kills the dreams of the young.” They shoved me to the ground and emptied a canister of fuel over me. “Did you drive Chloe to suicide?” one of them screamed. “How dare you still show your face?” I struggled, shouting back, my voice raw with terror. “You’re insane! She’s not dead! She’s lying to you!” No one listened. “Light it.” Someone struck a match. As the flames consumed me, my last coherent thought was of the new beige trench coat I was wearing. My mother had saved up for months to buy it for my birthday. In the final second before the fire melted my skin, my phone screen lit up. It was the last voice message my father ever sent me. “Pumpkin, Daddy’s on his way to bring you home.” But he never made it. On his way to me, he was killed instantly by a driver who ran a red light. And my mother, when she heard the news of my death, locked herself in the bathroom that night. She slit her wrists in the bathtub and never woke up. No one dared to claim my body from the morgue. It was three days before the county officially processed me as an unclaimed Jane Doe and sent me to the crematorium. “No name necessary for this one,” they’d said. Chloe’s livestream tears earned her millions of followers and the title of “the ultimate survivor.” Ethan took full control of the company, hailed as a hero for “purging the toxic elements from his leadership team.” The entire internet celebrated my death. They said I deserved it. I died worthless. And now, I am back. Back, listening to her say those same words one more time: “I propose we serve boba tea to the investors.” I look at her, and I smile. “I love it. Let’s do it.” 3 “Audrey, are you sure you want to sit this out? This presentation is critical.” My assistant, Maya, stopped me in the hallway, her arms full of binders. I pulled on my black trench coat, my expression serene. “Didn’t Chloe say she wanted the chance to lead a major client-facing event? Let’s give her the opportunity.” Maya gave me a complicated look, then lowered her voice. “Mr. Henderson is backing her so openly… people are whispering. They’re saying you’re being sidelined.” A small smile touched my lips. “Sidelined? He can try.” I pushed the door open and walked back into the conference room. Chloe was already standing at the front, dressed in a pale pink pantsuit. “This is our big chance to connect with the partners at Dalton Capital,” she said, her voice bright. “I’ve outlined the full hospitality plan for your review.” The first slide of her PowerPoint deck was a single, massive title: “A Gen-Z Inspired Hospitality Initiative” Below it was a high-resolution logo of a trendy boba chain, so bright it was almost blinding. “My plan is to set up a custom boba bar during the break. We’ll have flavors like Jasmine Green Tea, Peach Oolong with Cheese Foam, and Grapefruit Green Tea, with fully customizable sweetness levels. For food, we’ll have lava cakes and candied orange peels to really showcase our team’s energy.” As she spoke, she glanced back at me. It was part boast, part challenge. I sat in the back row, sipping a glass of warm water, calmly flipping through a prospectus. “One of the senior partners at Dalton has advanced Type 2 diabetes. Are you planning on displaying the exact sugar content for each drink?” I asked coolly, not bothering to look up. Chloe faltered for a second. “Well, they can order a zero-sugar option.” “A ‘zero-sugar’ boba that still uses a fructose-based powder and a sweet cream foam for the topping. Are you going to stand there and explain the glycemic index of every ingredient to them?” “I…” “The primary contact for this deal is their Singapore division. Culturally, they lean Western. Do you think they’ll appreciate fruit-flavored sugar water?” “I… I can make a special note of it in the briefing,” she said, her posture stiffening. “And besides, not every single investor will refuse boba. We can always offer a second option…” “Chloe has prepared a comprehensive plan,” Ethan interrupted, his tone a clear defense of her. “We shouldn’t be so quick to tear down a junior team member’s ideas.” I finally looked up at him and offered a small, knowing smile. “So, Audrey, what’s your final opinion?” Chloe asked, biting her lip, her eyes wide and pleading. I looked right at her, my smile slow and deliberate. “My opinion is,” I said, letting my gaze sweep across the room, my voice soft, “the plan is excellent. Very creative. If no one else has any objections, I say we proceed exactly as she’s outlined.” A palpable wave of relief washed over the room. Someone whispered, “Wow, Audrey’s really mellowed out.” “Yeah, she’s not as intense as she used to be.” “You have to give the kids a chance to shine…” What they didn’t understand is that I simply had no interest in cleaning up their mess this time. After the meeting, I walked to my office and locked the door. My phone buzzed with a text from Noah. 【Got the files. We’re running the framework by the board. We can greenlight as early as next week.】 I sent him the business plan I had been working on for months. The name on the cover wasn’t Audrey Collins. It was Nexus Strategy Group, a new boutique consulting firm I’d quietly registered. And just this morning, the firm’s ownership structure had been transferred to a blind trust. On paper, it was anonymous. In reality, I controlled everything. Down the hall, Chloe was still in the conference room with the events team, laughing and coordinating her “boba bar.” She looked like a blooming flower. That evening, a text came in from Ethan. 【Chloe is still a little naive. She gets nervous easily. As a senior leader, you should guide her a bit.】 I laughed out loud. He wanted me to mentor Chloe? Did he want her career to implode even faster? I texted back a simple, “Okay.” Then I opened my laptop, compiled her entire history of breaking company policy—her undeclared influencer side-gigs, the times she’d used company resources for personal projects—into a single, anonymous document, and sent it straight to the Ethics & Compliance department’s whistleblower email address.

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I was on vacation in Bali when I got the urgent call to return home. It turns out, I’m not my parents’ biological daughter. My family commands a billion-dollar empire, but my adoptive mother struggled with infertility. So they adopted me, raising me as their own flesh and blood. My mother was terrified I’d feel slighted. “We looked into your birth parents, darling. They’re… not well off. If you have a hard time, you must promise to tell us.” So here I was, in my mid-twenties, heading to meet them with a heart full of complicated emotions. At their house, my biological parents were sitting on a sofa, with a girl about my age nestled between them. They greeted me with a warning. “We’ve always thought of Rina as our own daughter. The majority of our assets will be left to her. We hope you won’t get any funny ideas.” 1 I asked, with genuine curiosity, “Then why bring me back at all?” If they weren’t calling me home to inherit a fortune, was it because they thought my life was going a little too well? Mr. Vance, my biological father, snorted. “A Vance belongs with the Vances. We couldn’t let our bloodline just wander in the wild.” Whenever I’d reunite with my adoptive parents after a long time apart, they’d always have a gift ready to celebrate. My first day reuniting with my biological parents, their gift was to put me firmly in my place. Before I came, my mom had painted a tearful picture of their poverty, as if I were being sent to live in a beggar’s den. Looking around now, the Vance home was better than I expected. The girl squeezed between them had red-rimmed eyes. “Aria, I know you must have suffered so much all these years. I’ve usurped your identity, and you must be furious, but I really don’t want to leave Mom and Dad.” My biological mother hugged her, tears streaming down her face. “Rina, darling, what are you saying? In our hearts, you have always been our real daughter.” My biological father’s face was stern as he looked at me. “There’s no ‘real versus fake heiress’ drama in this family. Rina is our daughter, and she is your sister.” “We’ve poured everything into raising her to be the exceptional young woman she is. We won’t tolerate any petty scheming from you.” I watched this picture-perfect family moment, unsure of what to say. I wasn’t particularly hurt. I’m in my twenties, raised in a bubble of love and wealth. The last thing I was going to do was agonize over whether my newfound biological parents loved me. Mrs. Vance’s eyes scanned me, noticing I was empty-handed. “You’re dressed nicely enough, but you couldn’t even bring a single bag?” It took me a second to register her meaning. I shrugged. “Nothing worth bringing.” The truth was, my parents had packed so many suitcases for me that I’d arranged for our butler, Mr. Kingston, to have them all sent over later. But I’d just changed my mind. I wouldn’t be calling him just yet. Mrs. Vance’s brow furrowed at my answer. “People from simple backgrounds are always so stingy. They raised you all this time and didn’t give you a single decent thing. Don’t think you can use this as an excuse to latch onto our family.” “Whatever bad habits you picked up in your old life, you’d better leave them at the door.” Mr. Vance pulled out a credit card. “Here’s fifty thousand dollars. Consider it a thank-you to them for raising you. I expect this card to be the end of it. We don’t want them showing up here, trying to cash in on their good deed.” My eye twitched. Fifty thousand? For a family this cheap, that wasn’t even enough to bribe Mr. Kingston. 2 Footsteps echoed from the staircase. It seemed there was one more person in the house. A man in a sharp suit descended, his face a thundercloud. “Benjamin,” Rina chirped. Benjamin Vance glanced at me. “I only have one sister. And it’s Rina.” Me: “?” Mr. and Mrs. Vance said nothing. “Benjamin, dear, where are you off to?” Benjamin’s expression shifted to one of smug satisfaction. “Preston from Apex Industries and I have really been hitting it off. He invited me out to dinner.” Mr. Vance shot to his feet. “Apex Industries?!” “That’s my son! Making friends with the likes of Preston.” A smirk played on Benjamin’s lips. “And in two weeks, the Foster heir is coming back to the country. The Fosters are throwing a welcome-home banquet, and Preston promised me an invitation.” Mr. Vance’s eyes were practically glowing with excitement. “The Fosters?” Benjamin nodded proudly. The Fosters. A dynasty among dynasties. Their family had only two children, a son and a daughter. The heir Benjamin was talking about was the younger son, Caleb Foster. There were whispers of old royal blood in their family line, which had earned Caleb the nickname “The Heir.” His last name was Foster; fortune was his destiny. Father and son were still waxing poetic about the mystique and grandeur of the Foster family. My face was turning red from holding back laughter. My name is Aria Beaumont, and my adoptive family, the Beaumonts, are lifelong friends with the Fosters. The Foster heiress, Maya, and I have been joined at the hip since we were kids. And yet, I’d never heard any of these ridiculous rumors. This was hilarious. My phone vibrated. Speak of the devil. A text from The Heir himself. Caleb: Aria, I heard you’re back! It’s so boring over here. I wanna come home too. Caleb: [CryingKitty.gif] Me: Your Highness, we are blessed by your message. Caleb: ? Meanwhile, Rina was completely captivated by Benjamin’s stories, practically swooning at the thought of The Heir. Her eyes were shining. “I can’t believe someone as incredible as The Heir actually exists in this world.” Mrs. Vance nodded. “Such an outstanding young man. I wonder which family will be lucky enough to have him.” She then gave me a pointed look. “A family like the Fosters… some people will go their whole lives without ever even hearing their name.” 3 “Hahahahahaha! No, did they really say that?” Maya Foster nearly spit out her coffee. I nodded, amused. “Benjamin said he’s going to bring Rina to the banquet. Now all she can think about is your little brother.” Maya and Caleb were only a few years apart and had spent their entire childhood fighting. “You know that little leech will be stuck to your side the entire night. Won’t your new sister just die of jealousy when she sees you two?” I took a sip of my coffee. “My new family already looks down on me. Can you imagine if I went up and announced that I used to spank The Heir for being a picky eater?” Maya was laughing so hard she was doubled over. “Your biological family is something else. How on earth did they get the impression you were poor?” I sighed dramatically. “I don’t know. Maybe I just radiate a certain broke-girl energy?” Maya rolled her eyes. “If Aria Beaumont is broke, then there are no rich people left in the world.” I grinned slyly. “Well, there’s still the Foster Princess and her Heir Apparent~” Maya bristled. “Aria Beaumont! You take that back!” 4 Mr. Kingston called to confirm that the luggage was still on hold, then asked about Mochi. “Mochi seems a bit down without you here.” Mochi is my cat. I found him when I was hanging out at the Fosters’ estate. A scruffy little white kitten had snuck into their yard. Oh, right. The famous Heir is terrified of cats. The staff was about to shoo the kitten away, but he was so dirty and had a limp in one leg. He looked utterly pathetic. So I took him to the vet, got his leg fixed and his shots, named him Mochi, and he’s been with me ever since. I gave Mr. Kingston the address. “Bring him over. I’m out with Maya right now.” A little while later, Maya peered into the cat carrier and sighed. “Mochi, you get uglier every time I see you.” I slapped her arm lightly. “Don’t say that! He’s not ugly at all. Our Mochi is the cutest.” Maya’s apology was swift. “Sorry, Mochi. You’re adorable.” Objectively speaking, Mochi wasn’t a conventionally handsome cat. But that was just my first impression. Now, I find him ugly in the most endearing way. Uniquely ugly. Especially when Caleb, torn between his fear and his desire to pet Mochi, would finally work up the courage to reach out. Mochi would just sit there, staring calmly at him. The second Caleb’s hand got close, Mochi would dart away, not letting a single finger touch his fur. How could such a perfect cat exist? 5 “Ugh, what is that ugly cat!” Rina shrieked. When I got back to the Vances’ house, no one was home, so I let Mochi out in the living room. I didn’t expect Rina to walk in and start screaming, startling him. I scooped Mochi up, annoyed. “He’s my cat.” And you’re the ugliest thing here. Rina’s face twisted in disdain. “Sorry, sister. My friends all have, like, Abyssinians or Devon Rexes. I’ve just never seen a cat like… that.” I had to physically restrain myself from rolling my eyes. What an uncultured snob. Soon, the rest of the family arrived. Benjamin was holding an invitation, his eyes alight with triumph. “The Fosters’ invitation. It says one guest can bring two people.” Rina clung to his arm. “Benjamin~” He patted her head. “Go buy yourself a beautiful dress.” Rina let out a happy cheer. Then, as if remembering something, she looked at me. “Benjamin, you should bring Aria, too.” Me: “…” Benjamin just grunted, noncommittal. “I heard that even the notoriously private Beaumont heiress will be attending. The Beaumonts are on par with the Fosters, you know.” Yup, can confirm. A glint of ambition appeared in Benjamin’s eyes. “I’ve long heard that Miss Beaumont is gentle, quiet, and stunningly beautiful. A perfect match for a man like me. Mom, Dad, if I could marry Miss Beaumont…” I jumped. Whoa! No way. I’m your sister! Mr. Vance was thrilled. “Benjamin, you’re handsome and so accomplished. Even Miss Beaumont is sure to fall for you.” No, Miss Beaumont will not. Rina suddenly looked shy. “Mom, Dad, do you think The Heir will like me?” Oh, please, not this again. I think of Caleb as a little brother. My dad said you’re my sister. That makes you and Caleb practically siblings! You can’t be together! Mr. and Mrs. Vance were already lost in their fantasy, their faces flushed with excitement. “Rina, you’re so beautiful and sweet. Of course The Heir will like you. You just have to seize the opportunity, you understand?” I felt faint. This entire family was insane.

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1 Our company’s new head of HR was supposed to be a rockstar. A “golden hire.” After my department pulled a month of brutal, round-the-clock overtime to land a massive project, he celebrated our success by presenting us with a bill. It was for the air conditioning, bottled water, and facility usage fees we’d incurred during our late nights. To “strengthen management,” he installed timers in the restrooms. Five minutes per person, per day. Total. If you wanted a single sheet of A4 paper, you needed to submit a 2,000-word written request in advance. Then, in the name of “cost reduction and efficiency,” he proposed to the CEO that I be laid off. This was right after my father had emergency surgery. He was in the ICU, and the bills were piling up fast. When I demanded my legally mandated severance package, Carter Price slammed his fist on the table. “Severance? You’ve got to be kidding me! If you’re leaving, you should pay back every salary you’ve ever earned. Consider it tuition for the education this company gave you!” … The day we landed the Sterling account, a wave of relief washed over the entire department. We were just starting to plan how we’d spend our commission bonuses when Carter slapped a bill on my desk with a sharp crack. “Liam,” he said, his voice slick with smug authority. “Here’s the tab for your team’s recent expenses. Settle it with finance as soon as possible.” Confused, I took the sheet of paper from him. • Utilities (HVAC): $15,000 • Bottled Water & Supplies: $5,000 • Facility Usage Fee (After Hours): $20,000 There were other miscellaneous charges, bringing the grand total to a staggering $40,000. Attached were meticulous records of our daily electricity usage and even photos of the water cooler, with the water level marked each day to calculate our consumption. After factoring in our salaries and overtime pay, we were somehow expected to pay the company $20,000 out of our own pockets. I stared at the numbers, convinced it had to be a joke. “Carter, we were working overtime to secure the single biggest client this company has seen all year. This one deal accounts for more than half of the annual revenue target. And now you want us to pay the company for the privilege?” I demanded, my voice rising. “Do you have any idea what we sacrificed? My team practically lived here for a month. Mark missed his girlfriend’s birthday for this project. Does this seem reasonable to you?” Carter shot me a condescending smirk. “For all I know, you were just using ‘overtime’ as an excuse to waste company resources,” he sneered. “I’ve seen your type before. You slack off during the day and drag out your work into the evening just to rack up some extra overtime pay.” He puffed out his chest. “Ms. Vance brought me in to instill discipline, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m putting an end to these bad habits. This company is not a charity for you to take advantage of!” Holly, the new intern, tugged at my sleeve, her eyes welling up with tears. “Liam… I promised my grandma I’d buy her an air conditioner when I got paid,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “She’s not well, and this heat… she can’t take it. Now, not only is my paycheck gone, but I owe money? Where am I going to get that kind of money? What do I do?” Carter jabbed a finger toward the young woman’s forehead, his expression dripping with disdain. “This isn’t a non-profit. Don’t think we don’t know about you Gen Z kids, always looking for new ways to fleece the company. You probably fill up your water bottles to the brim before you leave every night. Well, let me tell you, as long as I’m here, those days are over. I will not tolerate it!” My face was a cold mask. I took the bill from Holly’s shaking hands, looked Carter dead in the eye, and ripped it into tiny pieces. “We’re not paying this,” I stated flatly. “If you have a problem with that, we can take it up with Ms. Vance.” Carter was stunned. “Ms. Vance hired me at great expense to manage this company. Are you defying my authority?” I met his gaze, my voice low and steady. “I said, we are not paying. We will receive every single cent of our salaries and our overtime. If you disagree, let’s go see Diana right now and clear this up, face to face.” I had publicly humiliated him in front of the entire team. His face flushed with rage. “Liam Foster,” he seethed, “you will regret this.” He stormed off. Holly looked at me, her face pale with worry. “Liam, Ms. Vance specifically headhunted Mr. Price. If she finds out about this… are we going to be in trouble?” I put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. If the sky falls, I’ll hold it up for you. Besides, we just landed the Sterling account. Diana is thrilled. She’s not going to punish the team that made it happen.” Holly let out a relieved breath. Diana Vance was my girlfriend—or, she had been. We’d started this company together right out of college. After years of grinding, we finally made it. Once we were stable, she asked for the CEO title to give her a “sense of security.” I agreed, stepping back to run the sales department, continuing to build the empire for her. It wasn’t long before we were both summoned to Diana’s office. Carter was already there, standing beside her, his hair a mess, still breathing heavily from his tantrum. Diana didn’t even look at me. She just launched in, gesturing at Carter. “Liam, Carter was only thinking of the company’s bottom line! How could you undermine him in front of everyone like that? How is he supposed to manage anyone now?” she scolded. “I paid a fortune to bring him in. You need to respect his authority. You can’t just do whatever you want in a company this size!” I almost laughed. “Diana, have you lost your mind? Go ask around. Find one single company that charges its employees for working overtime. Are you trying to destroy the morale of the very people who built this place?” She glared at me. “You need rules to have order! Carter must have his reasons. Besides, if everyone starts using overtime as an excuse to freeload, how am I supposed to run a business?” I stared at her. It was like looking at a stranger. “The contract with Sterling isn’t signed yet,” I said coolly. “I can always call the client and tell them there’s no rush.” Diana panicked. “Are you threatening me? You don’t call the shots here anymore!” I rolled my eyes. “You’ve known me for seven years. What do you think?” Carter, seeing his chance, jumped in. “This is Ms. Vance’s company! How dare you speak to your boss like that?” I gave him a lazy, dismissive glance. “This is between Diana and me. Stay out of it.” He was so thoroughly shut down he couldn’t manage a single word in response. Defeated, Diana finally backed down. “Fine, Liam. You win this time. But watch yourself from now on.” I walked out of her office, a cold pit forming in my stomach. Carter caught up to me in the hallway, bumping into me hard from behind. “Oh, and Liam,” he said with a malicious grin, “I forgot to mention. To improve management, I’ve drafted a new set of regulations specifically for your department. Make sure you follow them diligently.” He thrust a thick stack of papers into my hands. My team immediately gathered around to see. “Rule #1: Clock in no later than 9:00 AM, clock out no earlier than 5:00 PM. No exceptions.” “Rule #2: Total daily restroom time not to exceed five minutes. Use of more than two squares of toilet paper per visit is prohibited.” “Rule #3: To receive any office supplies, a 2,000-word request form must be submitted for my personal approval.” “Rule #4: All leave requests must be submitted three days in advance. No request will be approved without my signature.” The list went on. Over one hundred new rules in total. The team exploded. “We’re in sales! We have client meetings all over the city. How can we possibly clock in and out at the exact same time every day?” “Five minutes for the bathroom? What if you have an upset stomach? That’s inhuman!” “And the leave policy is insane! What about emergencies? How can you plan for that three days in advance?” Carter’s smile was triumphant. “I’ve always disliked you sales types, always using ‘client meetings’ as an excuse to show up late and leave early. It’s high time you were brought into line.” He continued, savoring every word. “As for the restrooms, I’ve already had infrared timers installed on the stall doors. Every second is logged. Go over your five minutes, and you’ll be fined.” “I’m not soft like Liam. Ms. Vance has given me her full support, and I am going to teach you all some discipline!” I held up the stack of papers. “Carter, do these new rules apply to the entire company, or just to our department?” He pursed his lips. “Oh, Ms. Vance and I discussed it. We both agreed that your department has the worst discipline, so we’re starting the pilot program with you.” Just then, Holly returned from a client visit, flushed and sweating from the summer heat. “Liam, good news! The client loves our proposal and is really interested in moving forward!” she chirped, beaming. “I had to wait outside his building for two hours, but I finally caught him. God, I’m so thirsty.” She went to the water cooler and filled a large cup, downing it in one go. Carter watched her, then made a sharp checkmark in his notebook. “Holly, daily water consumption exceeding 500ml,” he announced loudly. “That’s a $150 fine.” Holly choked, sputtering water. “Mr. Price, I just had some water from the cooler! Why is that a finable offense?” Carter sneered. “It’s in the new company regulations. No employee may consume more than 500ml of company water per day. Violators will be fined.” Mark, one of our veteran salesmen, finally snapped. “Why don’t you just admit you’re targeting our department? Who the hell is going to follow these bullshit rules? I’m not putting up with this!” Carter didn’t get angry. He just smiled. “Violation of rule #35: insulting a manager. That’s another $150 fine, Mark.” Mark was stunned into silence. He opened his mouth to curse again, but I grabbed his arm and shook my head, signaling him to stop. I turned to Carter, my expression calm. “If these are the official company regulations, my department will, of course, comply with them.” Carter nodded, satisfied. “Good. Glad to see you’re finally seeing reason.” After he left, the team swarmed me. “Liam, he’s openly bullying us! How can you just take that?” “Everyone knows our department brings in most of the revenue! If he ties our hands like this, how are we supposed to close any deals?” “Let’s go to Ms. Vance! She can’t possibly let him get away with this!” I shook my head, the disappointment a bitter taste in my mouth. “It’s useless. You think Diana doesn’t know about this? She signed off on it.” Mark was furious. “Then let’s just quit! I’m not going to be treated like this!” “And then what?” I countered. “What good does quitting do right now? We all have families, mortgages, bills to pay. How are you going to support them if you can’t find another job right away?” Holly nodded slowly. “Liam’s right. So, what’s the plan? I’ll do whatever you say.” A grim smile touched my lips. “He made the rules. So, we’ll follow them. To the letter. And as for the consequences… well, that’s out of our control.” The next day, every single person in my department arrived on time. We clocked in, sat at our desks, and proceeded to do our own thing. At exactly 5:00 PM, we all clocked out and went home. Contacting clients? Impossible. What if we missed the clock-out time? For two solid weeks, our entire department enjoyed the air conditioning, played on our phones, and had a wonderfully relaxing time. Carter, however, was not relaxing. He stormed into my office, his face red with fury. “Liam! Your team is in sales! You can’t close deals sitting in the office all day! The entire company’s payroll depends on you!” I casually adjusted my new haircut. “I’d love to be out there, Carter. But you set the rules. Punctual clock-ins and clock-outs. I can’t risk being a minute late. I’m just diligently following company policy.” “You can’t go out, but you can still make calls, can’t you?” he retorted. I shook my head with an expression of sincere regret. “All that talking would make me thirsty. And the company only allows me 500ml of water a day. It’s just not enough to stay hydrated.” He ground his teeth. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you, Liam? Do you really think this company can’t function without your department?” I feigned shock. “I would never say such a thing. I’m simply abiding by the rules you put in place, Mr. Price. Isn’t this the disciplined environment you wanted to create?” He shot me a look of pure hatred and stormed out. Holly peeked in, trying to smother a laugh. “Seeing him so frustrated is the best thing ever. I bet Ms. Vance won’t be able to sit still for much longer, either.” I flicked her gently on the forehead. “Maybe, but our paychecks this month are probably going to be nonexistent. Here.” I transferred her $1,000. “Go buy that air conditioner for your grandma. The elderly can’t handle this kind of heat.” Her eyes turned red. “Liam… thank you.” “Don’t mention it,” I said, ruffling her hair. “But listen, none of you can slack off completely. Keep in touch with your clients, maintain the relationships. Just drag out the actual contract signings. Let’s see who blinks first.” Holly snapped to attention, giving me a mock salute and a playful grin. “Sir, yes sir! Mission accepted!” A month later, the company’s revenue had plummeted. It was barely a third of what it was the previous month. Diana slammed the performance report on my desk so hard it could have cracked the wood. “Liam, what the hell happened with your department this month? Why did the numbers fall off a cliff? Am I paying you all to just sit around and do nothing?” I sighed, putting on a show of helplessness. “Well, in order to comply with Mr. Price’s new regulations, my team had to strictly adhere to the clock-in and clock-out times. We couldn’t even work overtime. How are we supposed to generate revenue under those conditions?” Diana was not satisfied. “Can’t you find other ways? Stop blaming everything on Carter! A true professional doesn’t complain about their environment!” Carter, standing beside her, chimed in smugly. “Exactly. I proposed these reforms for the good of the company. I never expected Liam to use them as an excuse to stop working entirely.” I was done arguing with them. “My department followed the rules set by Mr. Price to the letter. As for the consequences, that was something I could not have predicted.” Diana clenched her jaw. “Fine. From now on, your department is exempt from the company regulations. Just close the deals. Do whatever you have to do!” Carter stomped his foot like a petulant child. “Diana, how can you just give in to him? Who runs this company, you or him? You can’t let him manipulate you like this!” Diana whispered to him, “If we don’t close some deals soon, we won’t even be able to make payroll. We’ll stabilize things first, then deal with him.” That night, I got a call from my mother. She was sobbing so hard she could barely speak. “Liam… your father… he collapsed at home. The doctors say it’s a brain hemorrhage… he needs surgery… I don’t know what to do, I’m all alone.” My heart leaped into my throat. After calming her down, I arranged for my dad to be transferred from my small hometown to a major hospital in the city. My mom’s hands trembled as she clutched mine. “Liam, this is going to cost so much money, isn’t it? The doctor said even if he pulls through, there could be permanent damage.” Her voice broke. “Maybe… maybe we should just take him home. We’ve never been able to help you with much, son. We can’t be a burden to you now.” I looked through the glass into the ICU, at my father lying motionless, hooked up to a web of tubes and machines. My heart shattered. “Mom, that’s my dad,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I will do everything in my power to save him, no matter what. Don’t worry about the money. I’ll figure it out.” I gave her every penny of my savings. To pay for my father’s medical bills, I threw myself into my work with a desperate ferocity. After I closed several major deals in quick succession, the way Carter looked at me changed again. One evening, after my team and I had just finalized yet another big contract after hours of work, Carter called me into his office. He was practically glowing with self-satisfaction. “Liam,” he began, “Ms. Vance and I have been discussing the current market downturn. We feel it’s time to… optimize your department.” A cold dread settled in my stomach. “Optimize who?” He walked over, standing uncomfortably close. “We think it would be best for the company if you were the one to leave.” I thought I must have misheard him. “Are you out of your mind? I’m personally responsible for over half of this company’s revenue, and you want to fire me?” Carter scoffed. “Do you really think you’re that special, Liam? Without the platform this company provides, who would even take your calls? We’ll just distribute your accounts to the other team members. I bet they’ll do just as well, if not better.” He leaned in, his voice dripping with venom. “And think about it. How many times have you openly defied Ms. Vance? With a cancer like you in the office, how can we expect any other employee to respect authority?” I forced myself to remain calm. “My father is sick. I need the money. If you’re firing me, I want to hear it from Diana herself.” Carter slammed his hand on the desk. “Who do you think you are? So what if you co-founded the company? Big deal! If you can’t afford your dad’s treatment, maybe he should just go home and die! Out of humanitarian consideration, the company can send a couple of wreaths for the funeral!” I snapped. Before I even knew what I was doing, I lunged forward and struck him across the face. The sound of the slap echoed in the silent office. “Shut your filthy mouth,” I snarled. “Say one more word, and I will rip it off your face.” He was stunned for a second, then raised his hand to hit me back. I kicked his leg out from under him, sending him sprawling to the floor. Just as he was struggling to get up, Diana burst into the room. She rushed to Carter’s side, helping him up with a look of frantic concern before turning on me, her eyes blazing. “Are you insane? You can’t just attack people! If anything happens to Carter, I’ll hold you responsible!” In that moment, whatever was left of my heart turned to ice. “My father is in the hospital, and you haven’t even bothered to visit once. Now this piece of trash wishes him dead, and you’re defending him?” Diana shot back, “Your father is sick, but I’m not a doctor! What good would my visiting do? Carter is my hire. It’s my job to protect him!” I stood there in silence for a long time, the weight of her betrayal crushing me. Finally, I made my decision. “Fine. You can fire me. But I want my severance.” Before the words were even out of my mouth, Carter shrieked from behind Diana. “Impossible! You won’t get a single penny! Now get the hell out of this company!” I leveled a cold glare at him. “On what grounds? The law entitles me to it. Who are you to deny me my legal rights?” Carter’s face was contorted with rage. “Not only will you get no severance,” he roared, “but you’re going to pay back every salary you’ve ever earned! This company trained you! It’s the tuition you owe for the privilege of working here!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384870”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

During the holiday, my wife Amelia spent $99 million at an auction to buy a rare emerald necklace for her young assistant, Leo. He promptly posted it on Instagram with a cloying caption: “Received the most precious gift of my life—a symbol of your heart! I’ll never leave you, dearest Madam President!” I froze her black card and sent her the screenshot. “You’ve forgotten our three rules, Mrs. Sterling.” She replied instantly, begging me to unfreeze the card. “I don’t carry that much cash.” “Then find the nearest gentleman’s club and pole dance for tips,” I wrote. “With your status, you’ll earn plenty.” After a minute of silence, I sent a news alert: her family’s company, which I had propped up, had lost nearly a billion dollars in market value. If she insisted on funding her boy toy, I’d make her pay it back tenfold first. 1 While Wall Street was still reeling from the sudden, inexplicable drop of a billion-dollar company, a video call from Amelia came through. “Ethan, stop this nonsense. If I get up on a stage and dance, it’s your reputation I’m humiliating, not just mine!” Seeing the fury in her red-rimmed eyes, I offered only a cold smirk. “Amelia, I’ll ask you one more time. Are you going to dance, or not?” “Choices have consequences. You have thirty seconds. Otherwise…” She hung up before I could finish. Less than half a minute later, my phone started buzzing with videos from my friends who were also at the auction. There she was. Amelia, my wife, dressed in a scandalously short dress, her face a mask of shame and wounded pride, her body moving around a brass pole with a practiced, elegant grace that was utterly out of place. “Damn, Ethan, you’re the man! That’s how you handle a woman who steps out of line!” “You’ve got her wrapped around your finger, Sterling! You have to share your secrets with the rest of us!” I read their fawning messages, told them to delete the videos, and then sent a final text to Amelia. “Amelia, remember your place. And don’t ever forget the three rules we agreed upon on our wedding day.” This time, she didn’t reply. I knew she was furious. I didn’t care. Ours was a marriage of convenience, a business merger. There were no feelings involved. Her family was insignificant compared to mine, but they were desperate for money and status, and I needed a wife to appease my parents. Before the wedding, I had laid out our three rules, clear and non-negotiable. “I will respect your public image as Mrs. Sterling. I will give you children to inherit the Sterling empire. But you will have no say in my business affairs.” “As for you, your only job is to be the perfect Mrs. Sterling. Do what is expected of you. Nothing more, nothing less. Do you understand?” “If you can accept these terms, we get married. If not, you can walk away right now. But once you leave this room as my fiancée, the deal is sealed.” I saw her lips part, a protest forming, and I cut her off with a cold laugh. “Miss Yang, let’s be clear. Our families are not equals. You bring me no tangible benefits. If you refuse, I will find another woman, give her family a fraction of what I’m offering yours, and marry her instead. It’s that simple.” She had nodded, a flicker of resentment in her eyes, but she had no grounds to refuse. And to her credit, she had played the part of Mrs. Sterling perfectly for years. We even had a son and a daughter. As a reward for her good behavior, I had elevated her father’s company from a minor firm to a billion-dollar corporation. I never imagined that after all these years of peaceful coexistence, she would dare to cross the line. This business with the assistant wasn’t just a misstep; it was a direct challenge. His blatant, public boasting felt like a personal insult. I do not permit others to covet what is mine. Not even with a glance. Toward evening, another message came from Amelia. “Attending a gala tonight. Will be home late.” I snorted and went back to my work. An hour later, my executive assistant forwarded me another screenshot from the boy toy’s social media. “You are the gentle breeze I have always dreamed of.” The picture was a selfie of him at the gala, a demure smile on his face, but his eyes gleaming with pride and triumph. The lighting on his face was soft, clearly cast by a woman holding the phone for him. At the same time, my friend Liam sent me a photo from the same event. It was Amelia, stunning in a couture gown, holding up her phone, aiming it directly at the pretty boy. The look on her face was one of indulgent, doting affection. The corners of her mouth were curved into a self-satisfied smile. Her intention was painfully obvious. “What’s going on, Ethan? Looks like your magic touch is failing you!” In both pictures, the $99 million emerald necklace was impossible to miss, a glittering declaration of war. She knew my friends would be at that gala. She knew I would see it. Yet she had willingly played photographer for him, even tacitly approved his provocative post, all as a petty act of revenge against me. She was using my reputation as a stepping stone for her boy toy. A cold smile touched my lips as I opened my chat with her. “It seems my generosity has been mistaken for weakness. You’re getting bold, Amelia.” Three minutes passed. No reply. My smile widened. I texted Liam. “She’s not looking at her phone?” His reply was instant. “She glanced at it and shut it off. You about to read her the riot act?” I sent one last message to Amelia. “Ignoring me? You have ten seconds to reply. Or you’ll regret it.” Ten seconds later, I sent her a photo of the signed divorce papers I always kept ready. “ETHAN STERLING! ARE YOU INSANE? IT’S JUST A FEW PICTURES! IS IT REALLY WORTH ALL THIS DRAMA?” Simultaneously, a text from Liam arrived. “HOLY SHIT, MAN! What did you say? Her hands are shaking so bad she can barely type!” I sent back a smirking emoji. “Sit back and enjoy the show.” Then I made a call to my household manager and instructed him to have my children taken to the airport immediately for a flight out of the country. Liam’s next message came quickly. “DUDE! TEACH ME YOUR WAYS! SHE’S LITERALLY ON HER KNEES STARING AT HER PHONE.” At the exact same moment, Amelia’s text appeared. “They’re your children too!” Her messages were now frantic, punctuation thrown in haphazardly, her panic palpable through the screen. “Call me. Now,” I typed. Her call came instantly, her voice laced with fury. “Ethan Sterling! What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’ve had your fun, you’ve made your point! Why are you dragging our children into this? Are you forgetting they’re your own flesh and—” I cut her off. “Start a video call.” “What are you planning to do?” “I said, start a video call. Now.” Amelia hesitated for a moment before complying. I saw several of my friends and business associates in the background of her video. I smiled. “Gentlemen, good evening. I hear my wife brought a new face to the party tonight. Is that right?” Amelia’s voice trembled as she rushed to explain. “Darling, you’ve misunderstood! He’s just my assistant!” I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “What kind of boss spends ninety-nine million dollars on an emerald for their assistant?” “But don’t be nervous,” I continued, my voice dropping to a silken threat. “I told you I’d give you a chance. I hear the waters off the coast here are known for their shark population. I’ve lived a long life, but I’ve never actually seen a shark feed on a person.” “So, Mrs. Sterling, would you be so kind as to throw your assistant into the ocean for me? I’d love to see the show.” That night, the coastline was ablaze with the lights of search and rescue boats, their calls echoing over the water. Liam’s excited voice notes flooded my phone. “Ethan, you are the absolute king! You’ve got the whole ‘master of the house’ thing down to a science!” “Your wife is a piece of work, too! Grabbed that pretty boy by the hair and just chucked him into the sea!” “You sure this isn’t just part of some kinky game you two play?” “Getting thrown into the ocean like a bag of trash by a woman… if that were me, I’d never show my face in public again.” “Seriously, man, teach me your ways! I’ll buy you dinner, just give me a few pointers.” I chuckled at his message. “First, you lay down the law. Then, if they don’t listen, you bring down the hammer. You think you have the stomach for that?” “Not a chance in hell!” Liam and his wife were high school sweethearts, a genuine love match. He was completely whipped. My methods would never work for him. “By the way,” he added, “I saw your wife jump in after him. Trying to save him. You’re not worried?” “Why would I be?” I replied coolly. “It’s easy enough to find a more obedient woman to be the next Mrs. Sterling.” Liam sent back a quick “Savage, man,” and then went silent. An hour later, Amelia returned, drenched and disheveled. She stumbled into the foyer, and the moment she saw me, her eyes, red and swollen, blazed with fury, her chest heaving. “The boy is in the ocean. The children are gone. Are you satisfied now?” I was on a conference call, negotiating a deal. I didn’t even grant her a glance. Only after I’d hung up did she speak again, taking a deep breath to control her rage. “Ethan, I did everything you asked. What more could you possibly want? Tell me!” I took a sip of my coffee, my eyes raking over her soaked, clinging dress with disdain. Our gazes met, and the fire in hers was instantly extinguished by the ice in mine. She collapsed onto the floor, hugging her knees, her voice a raw whisper. “Even if I was in the wrong today, does that give you the right to utterly destroy my reputation? To push me to the brink? If the rescue team hadn’t been so fast, I’d be facing manslaughter charges right now! What do you want from me?” I looked at her, my expression devoid of emotion. “Are you sure I’m the one who destroyed your reputation? Weren’t you the one who broke our agreement first?” Defeated, her lips moved several times before she spoke. “Leo is just a college graduate. What could possibly happen between us? After all these years of marriage, don’t you trust me?” “Amelia, I can choose to believe your words. But your actions have been a profound disappointment.” “Do you think that boy could earn ninety-nine million dollars in a hundred lifetimes? You can’t even produce that kind of cash yourself, yet you’d buy something so extravagant for him?” “Forcing me to foot the bill for another man is one thing. But what gives him the right to have the great Mrs. Sterling dive into the ocean to save him? Have you ever once considered your own status, your own identity?” Amelia looked up at me, her face a picture of wounded confusion. “He just seemed off at work these past few days. I wanted to cheer him up, so I made a grand gesture. It was a joke. I never thought you’d take it so seriously.” “I don’t understand why you’re so angry. It’s not like I cheated on you…” I let out another cold laugh. “Who is he, some kind of god? It costs ninety-nine million dollars to cheer him up? Can you guarantee he wouldn’t see that as an invitation, that it wouldn’t give him ideas he has no right to have?” “If not for your indulgence, a nobody like him would never have even entered my orbit. But now he feels bold enough to challenge me on social media. Don’t tell me you didn’t see it.” “Respect is a two-way street, Amelia. You trampled all over mine. Why should I bother protecting yours?” I placed the divorce papers on the table between us, my gaze unwavering. “Amelia, if you truly have feelings for him, you are free to sign these and leave.” Seeing the words “Divorce Agreement,” she burst into tears. “No… I don’t, I didn’t…” “Tell me, do you remember our three rules?” She nodded, repeating my words from all those years ago through choked sobs. My knuckles tapped against the papers. “In a business marriage, I don’t deal in feelings. I deal in duty. You failed to uphold your duties as Mrs. Sterling. Naturally, there are consequences. Including divorce.” Amelia wiped her tears and threw herself into my arms. “I… I know I was wrong.” I calmly took a drag from my cigar. She laced her fingers through mine with one hand and used the other to gently take the cigar and stub it out. “Darling, don’t punish your own body for my mistakes, okay?” she murmured, pressing herself against me. “Ethan, it’s been so long since we…” She started to unbutton my shirt, but I stopped her, my hand closing firmly over hers. “I sent the children to stay with their grandparents. I have no desire for them to come from a broken home. I will respect you, Amelia, but I will not tolerate your behavior. Do you understand?” I pushed her away. I saw the flash of surprise in her eyes, quickly replaced by a wave of panic. My voice was calm and businesslike. “Furthermore, I expect you to act out of duty as a wife, not use your body as a bargaining chip.” With that, I stood and walked toward my study. Just as I opened the door, I turned back, my tone deadly serious for the final time. “Regarding incidents like this, let me be perfectly clear. This was the first, and it will be the last. You will not get a second chance.” Her eyes, red and wide, met mine. She nodded vigorously. “I promise, darling. I swear. It will never, ever happen again.” The very next day, Amelia’s first order of business was to publicly fire Leo. He instantly became a pariah at the office, openly mocked by his former colleagues who were quick to follow the shifting winds. “Well, well, if it isn’t our swimming champion! How’d you get fired?” “Weren’t you just bragging about the emerald necklace the boss bought you? Guess you didn’t think she’d take it back, huh?” He could only slink away like a beaten dog. After that day, life seemed to return to normal. Amelia slipped back into her role as the perfect wife and mother. Seeing her improved behavior, I brought the children home. “Ethan,” she said, her smile genuine for the first time in weeks, “I wasn’t thinking clearly before. Now, all I want is to be a part of our children’s lives.” Perhaps it was the sound of our children’s laughter, but I found myself almost forgiving her transgressions. But I never forgot about Leo. I’m a man who believes in settling scores. I had my assistant keep tabs on him, ensuring that life remained… difficult. If you dare to covet what is mine, you must be prepared to pay the price. I just never imagined Amelia would dare to deceive me on such a fundamental level. A message from Liam arrived unexpectedly one afternoon. “Ethan, are you being played? I was at a meeting with your father-in-law’s company, Yang Corp, today. Guess who the new CEO is? Your wife’s pretty boy!” The attached photo showed Leo in a sharp suit, looking confident and triumphant, with no trace of the humiliated wretch who’d been thrown into the sea. And there, around his neck, was the emerald necklace. A glaring, defiant insult. “Amelia,” I seethed, “I underestimated you.” I drove home, a cold fury building with every mile. As I approached the front door, I heard her voice from inside, speaking to our children. “From now on, no one in this house mentions his name! He was planning to ship you both off to work in African mines! If it weren’t for me stopping him…” “You don’t have to thank me too much. I’m your mother, after all. A few of the company’s shares as a thank you will be enough…” My fists clenched, my face a thunderous mask as I strode inside. Amelia’s words caught in her throat, and raw panic flashed across her face. “Amelia! I entrust you with our children, and this is how you raise them?” My son and daughter ran to me, hugging my legs. “Daddy! Mommy is trying to make us bad!” I gestured for the children to go to their room, then turned my icy gaze on Amelia. “For the sake of our children, I will give you one chance to explain yourself. Speak.” Her expression hardened into one of annoyance and impatience. “Explain what? I was making a joke with the kids. Is a simple ‘I’m sorry’ not enough for you?” I slammed my hand down on the table, my patience gone. “You won’t talk? Fine! I’ll talk for you!” “You’ve gotten quite bold, Amelia! Playing these deceptive little games right under my nose?” “My time is limited. Sign it.” I threw the divorce papers onto the table again. Her eyes immediately welled with tears. “What is wrong with you today? Is divorce really something you can just throw around like it’s nothing?” “I’ve dedicated myself to our family! I haven’t even stepped out of this house! On what grounds are you divorcing me?” “Why don’t you just accuse me of still seeing Leo? Can you stop taking your bad moods out on me? You’re scaring the children! I’m not your punching bag! Go think about what you’ve done!” With that, she stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. The children were frightened by our argument, so to comfort them, I decided to take them to a charity auction to pick out a gift. We had no sooner arrived when someone in the crowd exclaimed. “Look! It’s the new CEO of Yang Corp! So the old CEO stepped down for the man by her side!” Leo was beaming, his face radiant with success. And on his arm, looking regal in a haute couture gown, was my wife, Amelia. Her eyes met mine across the room. She held my gaze for a moment before deliberately turning her head to whisper something in Leo’s ear, guiding him into a private suite as if my children and I were complete strangers. When someone in the crowd referred to Leo as “Mr. Yang,” she merely smiled and nodded, not bothering to correct them. The auction began. A sudden gasp rippled through the room. “Look! Mr. Yang is making a grand gesture for his lady! He’s bidding without a limit!” “What a man! To spend so extravagantly on his wife! I’m so jealous!” “Didn’t you hear? Mrs. Yang spent ninety-nine million on her husband not too long ago! It must be some kind of romantic game they play!” Amelia looked at Leo, her smile full of doting pride and a hint of triumph. My son, hearing the whispers, looked up at me, his face possessing a calmness far beyond his years. “If Mommy wants to be with that bad man,” he said, his small voice clear and steady, “then Daddy can just get us a new mommy.” To make a child say such a thing… Amelia truly was one of a kind. I stroked his hair gently. “That’s right, son. We sit at the head of the table. People like them are merely items on the menu. They don’t even qualify as villains.” My gaze fell upon Amelia, who was basking in the spotlight. My voice was low and cold. “And as the future heirs of the Sterling Corporation, today, Daddy will use them to teach you both a very important lesson on how to remove an unwanted dish from the menu. And…” I paused, letting the weight of my words settle. “What the fury of a top-tier dynasty truly looks like.”

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Before the final SAT exam, my genius boyfriend’s mom got hit by an electric scooter right in front of the testing center. He was a complete mess when he saw me. “Tori, can you please take my mom to the ER?” I was about to say yes without a second thought, but then a few lines of text flickered into existence in front of my eyes: 【The male lead was planning to dump the side character right after the test anyway. He only stayed with her for a few more years because she saved his mom.】 【Just say yes! He’s freaking out. Yesterday, he intentionally bombed two major problems on the math section just to lower his score enough to get into the same college as the female lead. If he misses the reading comprehension section today, he won’t even get into a top-tier school!】 The words, like comments from a livestream only I could see, left me stunned. It took me a moment to find my voice. “No.” Even if he had the potential to be a National Merit Scholar, that wasn’t a good enough reason for me to throw away my own future for him. … Ethan couldn’t believe I’d refused. He got agitated. “Tori, my mom raised me all by herself. She’s the most important person in my life. I can’t just leave her here and go take a test.” Mrs. Davis was unconscious on the pavement, and the kid who hit her with the scooter looked like he was about to faint. “You’re really not going to help me?” Ethan’s voice rose, sharp and accusing. “You talk a big game about loving me, about wanting me to succeed, but it’s all just talk, isn’t it? The second something real happens, I see who you really are. You’re just selfish.” I looked down, my voice barely a whisper. “The reading section is first. If you miss it, you’ll have to guess on the whole thing. And they lock the doors fifteen minutes after it starts.” He let out a cold, bitter laugh. “Like it makes a difference for *your* score? What, you think acing the reading section is suddenly going to get you into a UC school?” My breath hitched. I couldn’t believe those words came out of Ethan’s mouth. Ethan was always number one in our class. I knew how much this test meant to him. I was the one who stood in the long lunch line for him every day so he’d have more time to study. I was the one who asked my cousin at a rival magnet school to sneak me their test prep materials for him. But seeing those floating comments—that he’d *deliberately* tanked part of his math score—made it hard to breathe. “Isn’t that the valedictorian? What’s going on?” “We’ve got twenty minutes till the doors close. C’mon, let’s go.” Other students were whispering as they hurried past. In the distance, I could hear a siren getting closer. 【What’s wrong with this side character? The simp won’t even help? She’s going to ruin everything for him.】 【The female lead is here! Oh no, please don’t make our girl Chloe take his mom to the hospital. Don’t let it mess with her test!】 “Ethan? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I snapped my head up and saw Chloe’s cool, composed face. So *she* was the “female lead” the stream was talking about. Ethan’s voice was weak. “My mom… she got hit. She’s unconscious.” “Oh my god, what are we going to do? The test is about to start.” Ethan seemed to pull himself together. “It’s okay, I’ll figure it out. You should go get to your seat. Don’t worry about this, just focus and do your best.” The stream chat exploded again. 【See? The difference between love and not-love is so obvious. He’s panicking but still tells the female lead not to worry. Such a man!】 【Yeah, our girl Chloe has to do well! Go get into the same college as him!】 I watched the glowing text scroll by and silently took two steps back. The ambulance arrived. I moved forward to help lift the stretcher, but Ethan shoved me away. “We don’t need your fake sympathy.” Before he climbed into the ambulance, his eyes skipped over me and landed squarely on Chloe. “Don’t worry. Go on. Do great.” Sitting in the exam room, I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart. I listened to every single word of the proctor’s instructions with laser focus. I didn’t let myself relax until the very last second of the exam. When I walked out, it was no surprise that Ethan wasn’t there. My best friend, Maya, grabbed my arm. “We’re free! The class president is having a huge bonfire at the beach tonight. Are you and Ethan coming together?” I shook my head. I didn’t even know if he’d made it back in time for the test. “Hey, isn’t that Ethan over there?” I followed Maya’s finger and saw him standing under the big old oak tree with Chloe. He flagged down a cab, held the door for her with his hand over the frame so she wouldn’t hit her head, and then slid in beside her. “Where are they going? Wait, why isn’t he waiting for you?” Maya immediately realized how awkward and sad I must have looked and shut her mouth. “They’re probably going to the hospital,” I said. I told her what happened before the test, leaving out the part about the weird, magical comments. Maya was furious on my behalf. “Why should *you* have to take his mom? Is he the only person whose future is on the line today? So what if he’s number one, he can’t just expect his girlfriend to sacrifice her own SATs for him.” I thought about the comment saying he was going to dump me anyway and gave a weak, bitter smile. Maybe it was for the best. Better to get it over with now than be strung along for a few more years. I skipped the bonfire. After dinner, I just locked myself in my room. I opened my chat with Ethan. I typed and deleted, typed and deleted, and finally just sent: *How’s your mom doing?* The class group chat was blowing up with thousands of post-exam messages, but my chat window with Ethan was silent. I felt like a prisoner with a bag over my head, waiting for the executioner’s axe to fall. Eventually, I couldn’t resist opening Instagram. Chloe had just posted a new story. 【First time seeing you like this. It’s okay, I’m here.】 The picture was a silhouette of a guy under a streetlight, his shadow stretched long on the pavement. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew Ethan’s profile anywhere. The only thing I didn’t recognize was the cigarette between his fingers. Even as a shadow, I could feel his despair. My throat tightened. I wanted to call him. But then the comments popped back up. 【He’s totally broken. He’s never done this badly on a test in his life. Chloe, our baby, go hug him! Don’t let him be sad all alone!】 【Yes! Run your fingers through his hair and then reward him with a kiss! Don’t wait until he’s at the altar with the side piece to finally make your move!】 【How can she not see it? His eyes are screaming ‘I’m vulnerable, please comfort me!’】 My eyes widened at the text. *At the altar?* I immediately canceled the call I’d just started. So even if we somehow made it to our wedding day, he would still leave me for her? Why should I bother fighting to be a supporting character in their story? I waited all night. I didn’t get a reply, and I didn’t get a breakup text. The next day, the news about Ethan’s mom had spread. A few mutual friends planned to go visit her at the hospital. We walked into the room with a bouquet of flowers and were met by an exhausted-looking Ethan. He glanced at me, his voice ice-cold. “What are you doing here?” “I’m sorry I didn’t take your mom to the hospital yesterday. I…” “Tori, you can drop the act. I see exactly what kind of person you are now.” From the bed, Mrs. Davis’s voice was weak. “Ethan, what’s going on?” “Your classmates are here to see you, Mom.” He stepped aside to let everyone else in, but he physically blocked me from entering. Our friends froze, not knowing what to say. I stared at him, stunned, and quietly held out the flowers to him. He shoved them back at me. “I will never forgive you,” he hissed, then turned and shut the door in my face. Tears blurred my vision, but the floating text became sharper than ever. 【Smart move by the ML. His mom was only won over by the side character’s constant, perfect care. By not giving her the chance to do that now, his mom won’t pressure him to stay with her later.】 【But wait, why hasn’t he broken up with her yet?】 【Yeah, for real. Shouldn’t he just dump her? Why keep such a selfish girlfriend around?】 Reading that, I felt a surge of anger. If I helped him, I was a doormat. If I didn’t, I was selfish. Did anyone in this stupid “narrative” care about *my* future? For the next few days, I didn’t bother texting Ethan. Instead, I called my dad, who had moved to California a few years ago when his company expanded. We talked about college options out there, and he offered to help me find an internship for the summer. I’d always planned on staying in-state for college—not at Ethan’s Ivy League choice, obviously, but at least in the same city. But now that we were ending, the farther away the better. Before the scores were released, our class president organized a big grad party at a local pizza place. When I got there, Ethan had already arrived. Chloe was sitting right next to him. They were both wearing clothes in the same shade of blue, looking for all the world like a couple. I had just sat down when Maya slid in next to me. “What is going on with you and Ethan? Did you break up?” I gave a grim smile. “Basically.” “What do you mean, ‘basically’? Are they wearing matching outfits? That’s so messed up. Does he have to rub it in your face the second you break up?” I hadn’t thought about it, but now that Maya mentioned it, I felt like everyone at the table was whispering, waiting to see me fall apart. Someone at the table started talking about another class. “Did you guys hear about the senior couple from Mr. Henderson’s homeroom? They broke up.” “No way! They were so solid. The principal even called their parents in, and it didn’t change anything. Why break up after graduation?” “Their scores were just too different. Reality hits, you know? It was bound to happen eventually.” I kept my head down and sipped my soda. But then Chloe laughed. “People really break up over test scores? I thought guys just liked pretty girls. I mean, look at our class, at least half the guys have a crush on Tori.” My head shot up at the sound of my name. I met Chloe’s taunting gaze. Then Ethan chimed in from beside her, his voice casual. “What’s the point of being pretty if you’re a selfish person?” Ethan’s friends started piling on. “Seriously, man, if I were there, I would’ve driven your mom to the hospital for you, no questions asked. I’d never let you miss your shot at a school like Princeton.” “I’d be pissed too if I were you.” Maya muttered, just loud enough to be heard, “Wasn’t Chloe there, too?” The table went dead silent. The quiet was broken by a rowdy cheer from across the restaurant. The other senior class was having their party here, too, and Liam, their class heartthrob, was walking toward our table. Our class president called out, “What do you want, Liam? Here to start a turf war?” Maya nudged me. “I think he’s coming for you,” she whispered. I looked up and met Liam’s eyes. He was clearly a little drunk, the tips of his ears bright red, but his voice was sincere when he stopped in front of me. “Tori, can I get your number?” The question was followed by a chorus of whistles and catcalls from both tables. I was totally flustered, but before I could respond, Ethan’s voice cut through the noise. “What are you doing asking for my girlfriend’s number?” Liam looked at Ethan, then glanced at Chloe in her matching blue shirt. “I don’t want your girlfriend’s number. I’m here for Tori’s.” The cheering got even louder. “We’ve been in the same grade for four years, and I’ve always wanted to get to know you,” Liam said to me. “Just adding you on Snap isn’t a crime, right?” It wasn’t. I pulled out my phone and let him scan my code. He grinned. “Talk to you later,” he said with a little wave, and walked away. From across the table, Ethan stared daggers at me and chugged his entire glass of beer. The stream chat lit up. 【Why is the ML so mad? And look at the FL’s face, she’s so upset.】 【Drink up, drink up! Get drunk and tell Chloe how you really feel. I bet we’ll see some real progress tonight!】 【What kind of progress? 😉 I’m excited. They’re both eighteen, after all.】 The comments were making my head spin. Suddenly, someone yelled, “Chloe, are you okay?” Sometime in the last few minutes, Chloe had gotten herself completely drunk. She swayed in her seat and collapsed right into Ethan’s arms. Ethan wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her stand up. “I’m gonna take her home.” As he was leaving, he looked back at me. “You and Maya get an Uber together later, okay? Don’t go home by yourself.” Maya couldn’t help herself. “Is he for real? One minute he’s calling you his girlfriend, the next he has his arm around another girl and is taking her home. What a psycho.” Our class president tried to smooth things over. “He’s probably just still mad at you, Tori. You guys should just talk it out. It doesn’t have to be this dramatic.” Watching them leave, I laughed without any humor. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” Ethan hated public displays of affection. He’d lecture me if I even tried to secretly hold his hand in the school hallway. Being held that intimately? That was something new. Angry or not, the person he liked was never me. While we were waiting for our ride, my phone buzzed. It was a DM from Chloe. 【Sorry. I don’t think he likes you anymore.】 Attached was a picture. It was dark, clearly taken in a car, but it was unmistakably Ethan, and she was kissing him. Maya, who had been reading over my shoulder, exploded. “What is WRONG with her? Is she proud of kissing someone else’s boyfriend? She has to send you a picture to gloat? And Ethan is a total scumbag! I swear, I want to slap them both! This is insane!” Listening to Maya use every curse word she knew, I felt my own tears dry up before they could fall. “It’s for the best,” I said, my voice hollow. “Better to face reality now than get dumped at my own wedding, right?” “You and your silver linings,” Maya grumbled, but she pulled me into a hug. “If you want to cry, just cry. Don’t hold it all in.” I watched the stream comments fly by, all of them celebrating. 【Our girl Chloe is so brave! They don’t have to waste all those years apart anymore!】 【Yes! Finally! I was so tired of watching the genius ML with a dumb girl who he has nothing in common with.】 【Seriously, geniuses should be with other geniuses. That’s a relationship of equals.】 I didn’t cry. I just felt numb, thinking about all the years I had wasted. On the way home, I sent one last text to Ethan. 【Ethan, we’re done.】 As expected, he didn’t reply. The next day, the SAT scores were released. I did a little better than I expected—good enough for a great university in California. Without hesitating, I accepted my spot, then booked a flight. My dad had already set up an internship for me at a friend’s tech company. It was time to get a taste of the real world. Right before the plane took off, my phone rang. It was Ethan. “Tori, where are you applying? Did you score high enough for State U? It’s closer to my campus. Send me your scores, I’ll help you figure out which school is the best fit.” It took me a few seconds to process what he was saying. “Ethan, we broke up. You don’t need to worry about where I’m going.” “Tori, come on. I was just giving a friend a ride home. You don’t have to be so dramatic about it.” The flight attendant announced that all electronic devices needed to be turned off for takeoff. I hung up the phone and switched on airplane mode.

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Isabelle, our class queen bee, kept a public ranking of her suitors on Instagram, updating it daily. People jokingly called it the “Simp List.” I privately complained to a friend, “What self-respecting guy would tolerate that?” When Isabelle heard, she sweetly agreed, “Scarlett’s right. A man needs dignity.” Days later, she flaunted a new relationship with the department’s richest guy. One of her top suitors snapped, blaming me. He kidnapped and locked me in a storage closet, hissing, “You ruined my chance with her. Now die.” I woke to find myself back in time, watching Isabelle announce to the class: “I’m starting a list—a fair ranking of all my suitors!” 1 The classroom erupted. Some guys looked excited, others scoffed, but most were just morbidly curious. Isabelle lifted her chin, basking in the attention. “I’m not some shallow girl who only cares about money,” she declared. “I value a genuine heart. I’ll post about everything you guys do for me on my socials, completely fair and square. Everyone can see it, rate it, call out the fakers!” That just whipped the room into a bigger frenzy. In my last life, I’d heard those words and sneered, “What a classic mean girl hiding behind a sweet-and-innocent act.” Later, when guys were tripping over themselves to get a higher spot on her list, I’d mocked them too. “Have some self-respect. Any guy who’d throw their dignity on the floor for a girl to stomp on isn’t exactly a catch.” What I didn’t know then was that the list was never about those guys. It was all a calculated performance to catch the eye of one person: Jason, the undisputed king of our department, heir to a tech fortune. Jason was constantly surrounded by beautiful women. Isabelle knew she needed a gimmick to stand out. So she turned the dating game into a public spectacle, a testament to her own irresistible charm. This time, I just lowered my gaze, shut my mouth, and pretended to read my textbook. But Isabelle’s voice cut through the noise. “Scarlett! How about you be on my judging panel?” Half the class turned to stare at me. I suppressed a surge of rage and calmly turned a page, ignoring her. “Come on,” Isabelle pressed, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “You’re the best judge of character I know. My future happiness depends on you!” The memory of the storage closet flashed in my mind. This time, I just wanted to stay as far away from her as possible. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Someone in the crowd jeered, “Don’t be so modest, Scarlett! The queen herself said you’re perfect for the job.” “Yeah, you’re roommates! You’d have the most objective opinion.” I finally closed my book, putting on a look of awkward embarrassment. “I really can’t.” “I’m… not a good judge of men.” I took a deep breath. “Because… I like women.” 2 Within a few hours, two pieces of gossip were tearing through campus. The first was Isabelle’s “Simp List,” which had just gone live on her Instagram. The second was my very public coming out. Of course, my news was just a minor ripple. The real tidal wave was the list. The students had officially christened it the first “Simp List” in school history. To my surprise, way more guys participated this time than in my last life. “I can’t believe how many friend requests I’m getting!” Isabelle shrieked from her bed in our dorm room. Our other roommate, Maya, watched her with a toxic mix of envy and admiration. I tried to focus on my homework, but I couldn’t help but feel a grim sense of foreboding. Isabelle was so wrapped up in her own drama that she was completely oblivious to the silent fury building among the other girls on campus—girls whose crushes were now publicly debasing themselves for a spot on her list. Isabelle lounged on her bed like a queen on her throne. The tablet in her hands, the plush rug by her bed, the expensive skincare products on her desk… all gifts from her new legion of admirers. “I thought you said you weren’t materialistic,” Maya muttered, her voice sour. Isabelle immediately tapped out a new post. [IsabelleSterling]: Apparently, accepting a few small gifts means I’m a gold digger now? lol. Am I just spoiled, or are some people just not used to being shown affection? The picture was a cartoon bear with a single tear rolling down its cheek. A moment later, Maya’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, and her face flushed. She snatched up her phone and hurried out of the room. She returned a few minutes later, her eyes red and puffy. “What’s wrong?” our fourth roommate, Zoe, asked. Maya just bit her lip, pulled her bed curtain shut, and a moment later, we could hear the sound of muffled sobs. Isabelle, meanwhile, was cooing into her phone. “Oh, I’m not mad at all! Is that your genuine heart you’re offering? Because I’ve got a lot of genuine hearts to choose from right now… Really? Yours is more sincere?…” My pen froze for a second, but I kept my head down. It wasn’t until later that evening that Isabelle addressed the room. “Hey, the guys are taking us out for karaoke tonight! Everyone should come!” “The guys,” of course, meant the simps. Maya didn’t answer. I wrinkled my nose. “I think I’ll pass. Too much testosterone in one room for me.” No matter how much she wheedled, I refused. Finally, she gave me a long, speculative look, a sly smile playing on her lips. “You know, Scarlett, I never would have guessed you were into girls. Are you sure you’re not just… jealous?” I looked up, genuinely confused. “Jealous of what?” Isabelle ticked the points off on her fingers. “One, that I have so many guys after me? Or two, maybe the guy you like is on my list, so you couldn’t handle it and just decided to swear off men altogether?” I gave her an epic eye-roll. “Please. I’m not into guys. And besides,” I added, my voice dripping with disdain, “I’m attracted to brains.” Isabelle’s face flushed, then paled. When she left for karaoke, she didn’t ask me or Maya again. 3 Later that night, Maya’s voice came from behind her curtain. “Scarlett, have you seen Isabelle’s latest post?” I shook my head and pulled out my phone. “What now?” Her new post was a candid shot of me, sitting at my desk, engrossed in a book. The caption read: [IsabelleSterling]: My super-smart roomie says she’s only attracted to guys with brains… Ugh, does that mean she thinks I’m shallow? The comment section was already flooded with her defenders. isnt she a lesbian? why is she suddenly interested in guys? if she was so smart she’d be at an ivy league school, not here lol Don’t listen to her Izzy, you’re perfect! I was shaking with rage. “You need to be more careful what you say around her,” Maya whispered from her bed. “She’s… not a good person.” It took several deep breaths to calm my racing heart. I was too agitated to study, so I just climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling, my mind racing. Why did you provoke her? Haven’t you learned your lesson? Just stay away! From that night on, I made a conscious effort to avoid Isabelle. I gave one-word answers to her questions. If I had to speak, I chose my words with surgical precision. I started a countdown in my journal. 47 days. 47 days until she and Jason made their relationship official. Then, I would finally be free. While I was walking on eggshells, Isabelle’s life was getting better every day. She was true to her word, publicly ranking the guys’ efforts. Every day, she’d post a nine-photo grid on her Instagram, showcasing the top contenders. Thanks to them, life in our dorm room got a major upgrade. Three gourmet breakfasts, three artisanal bubble teas, three fresh fruit platters, all delivered daily like clockwork. One of the guys even bought all three of us access to a hyped-up new video game after Isabelle casually mentioned wanting to play it. “You guys are lucky you’re my roommates,” she’d say with magnanimous flair. “I don’t mind sharing the perks.” I refused everything. I was either on my period, had a stomachache, or was suddenly allergic. As for the game, I was too busy studying to even think about it. The memories of my last life were burned into my soul. I wanted nothing to do with Isabelle Sterling ever again. 4 The countdown was at 33 days when it happened. Jason, the rich kid, was hanging out in the hallway with a few of his friends. I tried to walk past them without being noticed. One of the guys pointed at me. “Hey, aren’t you in the same class as that girl with the Simp List? What’s-her-name?” Jason glanced over, a bored expression on his face. “Tsk. That’s Scarlett. Top three in their class.” He raised his voice. “Scarlett.” I didn’t answer, just gave a curt nod and quickened my pace. I could feel their eyes on my back, could hear them whispering and laughing. I finally made it to the classroom and let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. But when I turned, I saw Isabelle staring at me from across the room, her eyes dark and unreadable. A cold knot formed in my stomach. I shot her a questioning look, but she just gave me a tight, humorless smile before turning away. For the next two nights, I barely slept, waking up from nightmares in a cold sweat. “You keep having nightmares,” Maya said, her face etched with concern. “You’re mumbling in your sleep, something about ‘it’s not my fault.’ Is everything okay?” I didn’t answer, just stared at a new water bottle on Isabelle’s desk. Maya followed my gaze and grimaced. “I don’t know what her deal is. Normally she only accepts designer brands, but today she came back with that cheap thing.” An icy dread washed over me. I knew who gave her that water bottle. 5 In my last life, the pool of guys competing for Isabelle’s attention wasn’t that big. It was mostly the same five or six guys. One of them, however, was in a league of his own. He claimed to be truly in love with her and showered her with attention every single day. He was also the one I despised the most. His name was Leo. He had the highest entrance exam score in our entire department. He was tall and handsome, but he came from a poor family. I’d heard his dad was disabled and his mom was chronically ill. They were barely scraping by. Yet he was utterly infatuated with Isabelle. To get a good ranking on her list, he worked himself to the bone at part-time jobs just to buy her gifts. In my last life, I had nothing but contempt for him. He was supposed to be his family’s only hope, and here he was, wasting his time and energy on a rich girl’s cruel game. “He’s pathetic,” I’d said dismissively when my classmates were gossiping about him. Later, after Isabelle and Jason got together, no one hated me more than Leo. He was the one who came up with the idea to kidnap me. He was convinced that my comments had turned Isabelle against him, that I was the reason she’d chosen Jason. That water bottle was the first gift Leo had ever given her. But this life was different. Leo’s name had never once appeared on Isabelle’s list. Why was she suddenly paying attention to him? I was still puzzling over it when Isabelle walked in, a bright, false smile on her face. “Scarlett, you have to come to the cafeteria with me today,” she said. “I have a surprise for you.” I was about to refuse, but then I saw the malicious glint in her eyes. Better to face the devil you know, I thought. It was just the cafeteria. What could she possibly be planning? Seeing that I’d agreed, she practically bounced with excitement, pulling out her phone and starting to record. “Just filming a little day-in-the-life vlog,” she explained as she led me to the second floor of the cafeteria. I immediately saw him. Sitting alone at a four-person table by the window. Isabelle dragged me over, her voice practically vibrating with suppressed glee. “Surprise! I searched the entire campus to find the perfect guy for you! Someone with a brain to match yours! Come on, Scarlett! How do you know you only like girls if you’ve never even tried being with a guy?”

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In my eighteenth year with the Hayes family, I brought their real daughter home. She stood nervously at the door in a washed-out white shirt and faded jeans, her face an exact replica of Mrs. Hayes in her youth. The sight of her alone was enough to stir a deep sense of pity in the Hayes family. But as they moved to embrace her, her eyes reddened, and she shrank back, hiding behind me with a look of unspoken fear. Just as everyone was feeling a sense of relief at how close she seemed to be with me, her thoughts suddenly echoed in my mind. 【Anna told me she only brought me here to make herself look better next to my shabby clothes. She said I can’t get close to the family, or she’ll throw me out.】 【If I told Mom and Dad that my foster mother used to abuse me, they probably wouldn’t believe me. They’ve known Anna for much longer.】 【I’m so jealous of Anna. She’s dressed like a princess, and I look like a servant…】 Chloe Summers bowed her head, her hands twisting the hem of her sleeves, a perfect picture of a frightened, bullied girl who couldn’t speak her truth. She thought the Hayes family would turn on me, that they would cast me out. What she didn’t realize was that the looks they were giving her now were filled with scrutiny and doubt. 1 It was Mr. Hayes who broke the silence. He avoided my gaze, cleared his throat, and spoke to the housekeeper standing nearby. “It’s getting late, Mrs. Gable. Please show her to her room.” Chloe looked up at him, her face a mask of disbelief. This was not the reaction she had anticipated. Could something be wrong with my mind-reading power? Before I could say anything, her thoughts flooded my mind again. 【The room I had at the Summers’ house was a storage closet. No windows, no sunlight. I hope my room here has a window.】 【But if I ask for a room with a window, will Mom and Dad think I’m being greedy?】 【Never mind. I’m just a rat from the gutter. What right do I have to ask for anything?】 Hearing her feigned misery, I had to suppress a cold laugh. In my past life, after I brought her home, I did everything I could to be good to her. I deferred to her in everything. But the Hayes family only grew to resent me more and more. Mrs. Hayes not only confiscated my allowance but also moved me into the basement. It was perpetually dark and damp, and they had left special ‘gifts’ for me down there. The moment I closed my eyes, I would hear the scuttling of rats and centipedes. From that day on, I never had a peaceful night’s sleep. I thought I had done something wrong, so I went to Mrs. Hayes to apologize, my heart heavy with guilt. But her eyes were filled with nothing but contempt, her voice laced with a hatred she couldn’t hide. “Chloe suffered for over a decade. You can’t even last a few days? Did you really start to think you were a princess?” It was only then that I understood. Everything she did to me was an attempt to make me suffer as Chloe had suffered, to assuage her own guilt. But she seemed to have forgotten one crucial fact: the Hayes family owed their entire fortune to me. The assets my biological parents left me were enough to last ten lifetimes. If the Hayes hadn’t used my adoption as a legal loophole to seize control of my family’s wealth, Mr. Hayes could have worked for a hundred years and never even touched the fringes of high society. And yet, they saw me as the usurper. The irony was laughable. Now, everyone’s eyes were on Chloe, their expressions unreadable. This time around, Chloe, you won’t be using your inner voice to destroy me. 2 Mrs. Hayes forced a smile and asked tentatively, “Chloe, dear, the Summers family wasn’t wealthy, but our investigation didn’t show any signs of deliberate abuse…” Chloe froze, her face turning deathly pale. She stammered, “The… the Summers family was very good to me. They treated me like their own daughter.” Just as Mrs. Hayes began to breathe a sigh of relief, Chloe’s inner voice piped up again. 【They were nice to me on the surface, but they abused me in secret.】 【But Mom must be saying that because she’s worried about upsetting Anna. I should probably keep the truth to myself.】 【It’s okay if I have to suffer a little.】 Listening to her internal monologue, I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. I looked at her, my voice laced with meaning. “Chloe, I heard the Summers treated you even better than their own daughter. Is that true?” Chloe nodded, her voice as soft as a whisper, the very picture of obedience. “Yes, Anna. I had a good life with them.” In my past life, I only learned after I died that Chloe had a “mind-reading” system that allowed everyone but me to hear her thoughts. I had been confused and hurt by their sudden hostility, I’d questioned myself endlessly, but I never once imagined that Chloe was orchestrating it all with her fabricated thoughts. But this time, she had no idea that the moment I was reborn, I was bonded to a “life playback” system. The miserable past Chloe spoke of had already been laid bare for the Hayes family to see. Contrary to her inner thoughts, the Summers, while not wealthy aristocrats, were a comfortable middle-class family. And they had, in fact, treated her better than their own child. They’d spent a small fortune to send her to the city’s best private school and had given her the largest bedroom in the house. She had deliberately bought her current outfit from a thrift store to cultivate a pitiful image, one that would make the Hayes family pity her and despise me. But her little act had already been exposed. Even if they didn’t call her out on it now, the seeds of doubt had been planted. Chloe, this time, you will not be climbing over my back to get to the top. Seeing that none of us were speaking, she meekly followed Mrs. Gable out of the room. After she left, the living room was plunged into an even deeper silence. Mark Hayes, the eldest son, glanced at my calm expression, a flicker in his eyes. He casually draped his arm over my shoulder in a show of affection. “Hey, sis,” he said with a grin. “Chloe’s probably just a little overwhelmed. Don’t mind what she said.” I subtly shifted away from his arm, my eyes wide with feigned confusion. “What are you talking about, Mark? Chloe didn’t say anything bad.” He shot a quick, meaningful look at his parents, then let out an awkward laugh. “Oh, uh, I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea. Even with Chloe back, you’ll always be a part of this family.” With that, the three of them disappeared upstairs into the study. I watched them go, a sneer forming on my lips. Mark had said the same thing in my past life. After Chloe returned, everyone turned against me, but he was the only one who defended me. I thought he genuinely saw me as his sister. I never imagined it was all an act for the trust fund I had left. Before I was even born, my parents had set up a trust fund for me to ensure my future. It was managed by a team of professional investors, and over the years, its value had multiplied many times over. There was only one condition for withdrawal: I had to claim it myself, in person, on my twenty-second birthday. In my previous life, the day I turned twenty-two, Mark came to me, his face etched with worry. He told me he’d made a terrible investment, that the company’s capital chain was broken, and they were on the verge of bankruptcy. I trusted him completely. Without a second thought, I withdrew the entire fund and gave it to him to save the company, desperate to be the good, understanding sister he wanted. The moment the money was in his hands, he changed. He hurled insults at me, threw me out of the house, and blacklisted me so I couldn’t find a job. To survive, I had to collect and sell trash. I lived on stale bread and cold water. When I got sick, I had to endure it, with no money for medicine. I died in that cold, damp basement. And him? He took my money and went on a lavish spending spree with Chloe—renting private resorts, buying yachts, emptying out designer stores. Now, my twenty-second birthday is just one month away. This time, I will not only protect my trust fund, but I will also take back everything that was stolen from me. 3 The next morning, as we were having breakfast, Chloe came downstairs wearing the same clothes from the day before. She looked anxious, her hands twisting the hem of her shirt. After a moment of hesitation, she approached me. “Anna,” she said timidly, “I have to register at my new school today, but I don’t have anything suitable to wear. Could I… could I borrow something of yours?” My eyes gleamed. I wondered what she was planning now. I grabbed her hand, my smile wide and welcoming. “Of course, you can! Come on, I’ll take you upstairs to pick something out.” Mr. and Mrs. Hayes said nothing, tacitly approving. I led Chloe to my walk-in closet. I pushed open the carved wooden doors, revealing a vast, pale pink space divided into sections by brand and style, with display cases for my most prized collector’s pieces. Even Chloe, who had so carefully hidden her malice, couldn’t stop a flash of raw jealousy from appearing in her eyes. I pretended not to notice and led her to the casual wear section. “Chloe, pick whatever you like,” I said, gesturing to rows of clothes, many with the tags still on. “If you find something you want, it’s yours.” Chloe remained silent, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. I knew what was coming, but I feigned confusion. “Chloe? Is there nothing here you like?” She shook her head, then pointed to a magnificent, diamond-encrusted white gown in the formal wear section. Her voice held a barely concealed tremor of excitement. “Anna… could I choose this one?” I feigned a moment of hesitation, but inside, I was ecstatic. That gown was a gift from Mr. Hayes for my eighteenth birthday. He had commissioned a master designer to create it, a year-long project, all to show the world that they had not mistreated me. Every single diamond was hand-selected and hand-sewn. Its value was astronomical. In my past life, Chloe had also chosen this dress. Seeing how much she loved it, I had given it to her without a second thought. I did, however, gently remind her that I had worn it once, so it would be best to wear it for a private occasion, not a major public event. There was an unspoken rule in high society: you never wear the same gown twice. But sure enough, at the school’s welcome gala the next day, she wore it. And I was the one who was publicly shamed. They called me malicious, saying I had deliberately set Chloe up to be humiliated by making her wear my cast-offs. No one listened to my explanations. I was forced to take the blame. After that, my reputation at school was ruined, and I was ostracized by my peers. Now, looking at Chloe’s expectant face, I smiled and handed her the gown. “This dress is priceless. If you love it, it’s yours.” Then, I grabbed several other new, tag-on outfits and pushed them into her arms. “Chloe, these more ordinary clothes will probably suit you better.” I emphasized the word “ordinary,” the mockery in my eyes unconcealed. Ignoring her sour expression, I turned and left the closet. Downstairs, I turned to Mrs. Hayes with a helpful suggestion. “Aunt Evelyn, the school is having a welcome gala tomorrow night. You should help Chloe pick out a suitable dress.” Since being adopted, I had always refused to change my last name, and I referred to them as Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Robert. Mrs. Hayes gave a noncommittal response, and I dropped the subject. Tomorrow, when Chloe wears a second-hand dress, no one can blame me. 4 Instead of going to school, I went to a café to meet with the manager of my trust fund. He was impeccably dressed in a bespoke suit, looking every bit the professional. But when his eyes landed on me, I saw a flicker of disdain. He nodded, a polite smile on his face. “Miss Preston. My name is Mr. Hughes. You can call me Ryan.” This was the first time I had ever contacted him, in either life. I didn’t beat around the bush. “Mr. Hughes, I want to see all the financial records for the fund since its inception.” He didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up his coffee and took a slow, deliberate sip, as if he were the client and I were the one seeking his approval. I let out a cold laugh. “Mr. Hughes, I pay you a seven-figure salary every year. Not so you can put on airs for me. This is our first meeting, and you’ve already made a terrible impression. If you don’t want this job, I assure you, there are plenty of others who do. Am I clear?” He seemed stunned by my directness. He immediately put down his coffee, the dismissive attitude gone. He then proceeded to give me a detailed overview of the fund’s investment projects over the past few years. “Miss Preston, I will send all the financial records to your phone shortly,” he said, his tone now respectful. “I apologize for my earlier behavior. Please, accept this as a token of my apology.” He pulled a small, velvet box from his pocket and offered it to me. I smiled and gently pushed it back. “Your professional attitude from this point on will be the only apology I require, Mr. Hughes.” From his report, I could tell that Ryan Hughes was a sharp man. The fund’s investments had rarely lost money. I have always had more patience for competent people. As long as he corrected his attitude, I was willing to give him another chance. Seeing that I had let the matter drop, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Of course, Miss Preston. I will dedicate myself to my work.” “By the way, Miss Preston, in one month, you will be eligible to withdraw the funds. Do you have any plans?” I raised an eyebrow and leaned back, my posture relaxed. “I plan to use it to acquire the Hayes Corporation. Are you confident you can handle that, Mr. Hughes?” He stared at me for a long moment, then nodded decisively. “I will begin gathering all the necessary information on the Hayes Corporation immediately. I’ll look into their upcoming investment projects.” That afternoon in class, Ryan sent over the financial reports. As a double major in finance and law, reading them was no trouble for me. But as soon as class ended, I noticed people were giving me strange looks. Just as I was about to ask what was going on, I heard Chloe’s inner voice. 【Anna told me to pretend I don’t know her at school. She said I can’t let anyone find out she’s the fake heiress.】 【I really want to make friends, but Anna said a country bumpkin like me doesn’t deserve any.】 【I hope Anna doesn’t lock me at home during the gala tomorrow night. I really want to go…】 She really couldn’t wait to start her smear campaign. A small smile played on my lips. Just as I was about to walk over to her, a boy blocked my path. It was Carter Vance, a guy who had been chasing me for ages, and whom I had rejected countless times. The malice in his eyes was palpable. He looked at me with a sneer. “So that’s why you always turned me down. You’re a fake.” My expression didn’t change. My voice was cool. “The reason I turned you down has nothing to do with that. It’s because you’re an idiot.” “You…” He was speechless, so he stormed over to Chloe instead. Chloe blushed, and her inner voice started up again. 【So Anna isn’t popular with her classmates. Does that mean I don’t have to be afraid of her threats anymore?】 【This guy is so handsome. But he likes Anna, so I can’t…】 Carter, the illegitimate son of the Vance family, was spoiled rotten by his grandfather and had a reputation for being an arrogant playboy. He and Chloe were a perfect match. Carter shot me a contemptuous glance, then turned to Chloe, his voice a low, charming murmur. “Chloe, would you do me the honor of being my date to the gala tomorrow night?” Chloe was about to nod when she seemed to remember something and glanced in my direction. She quickly lowered her head and whispered, “Tomorrow… I might not… be able to come.” Carter, assuming she was afraid of me, puffed out his chest. “You just come. If anyone gives you any trouble, I’ll make sure they regret it.” A faint blush spread across Chloe’s neck. She gave a small nod, but her voice was firm. “Okay. I’ll be your date.” 5 The gala was held in the school’s grand auditorium. I wore a vibrant red, custom-designed gown that I had prepared in advance. It accentuated my best features and made my skin seem to glow. I looked radiant and confident. The moment I entered, all eyes were on me. I ignored the stares and scanned the room until my eyes landed on a figure in the corner: Charlotte Vance. She was the legitimate heiress of the Vance family, but because she was a girl, her grandfather despised her. Despite her talent, he refused to let her have any role in the family business. I walked over to the elegant, melancholy girl and offered her a glass of wine. My voice was soft. “Miss Vance, I heard your new project was close to a breakthrough, but you suddenly lost funding?” She was already brooding over this. She took the glass from my hand and drained it in one gulp. Her voice was laced with self-deprecation. “What, are you here to mock me too?” Her grandfather had publicly declared that anyone who helped Charlotte was an enemy of the Vance family. Her only value in his eyes was as a marriage pawn. Her initial funding had come from her close friends, but their resources were limited. I watched her down another glass, then took it from her hand. “I can provide the funding you need,” I said calmly. “In return, I want a 30% stake in the company.” She looked at me, her expression wavering. “But you’re a Hayes…”

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My brother was the best Fire Captain in the state. During a chemical plant explosion, he was trapped deep inside the inferno, covering the retreat of a rookie. The entire structure groaned, threatening a secondary blast at any second. The Battalion Chief gave the final order: no one else goes in. I knelt on the ground, sobbing, as I dialed my girlfriend’s number. My Ava. She’s one of the top structural engineers in the country. Only her modeling, her analysis, could find the safest rescue path in the sliver of time we had left. Ava’s voice on the phone was calm, resolute. “Wait for me, Leo. I’m bringing my team and the equipment now. Keep the scene stable. Don’t let them give up.” But as I stood guard at the police tape, locked in a standoff with the Chief, a text from her lit up my screen: [An important academic conference just came up. You’ll have to find someone else for the rescue.] I clutched my phone, kneeling in the muddy earth, listening to the muffled booms from within the blaze. I called her back, again and again. On the 99th try, she finally picked up. The background was filled with the clinking of glasses and cheerful chatter. My voice was a raw whisper. “Ava, my brother is dying. You’re the only one who can save him. Please, come back.” A brief silence, then the line went dead. The next second, a new post popped up in my feed, from her old college mentor. It was a photo. Ava, beaming, laughing with several men in sharp suits. The caption read: [A huge thank you to Dr. Ava Chen for her critical technical support, clearing the final hurdle for us to land the project.] So, the mandatory conference… was helping her mentor secure a multi-million-dollar contract. While my brother’s life hung by a thread, she chose another man’s future. 1 By the time I rushed the police tape again, the entire building had collapsed. When they carried my brother’s body out, he was so blackened by smoke he was unrecognizable. The rescue captain took off his helmet and just shook his head at me. “No chance, son. Asphyxiation, then crushed by the debris. When we got to him, he was still shielding a rookie with his own body.” My world imploded. My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the ground. The firefighters from my brother’s unit came to help me up. “Your brother is a hero, Leo! He saved all of us!” Their eyes were filled with grief, with regret, but mostly, with a quiet, burning anger. They knew, just as I did, that the one person who might have given my brother a fighting chance, Ava, was at a champagne toast, celebrating her victory. The Chief took off his own jacket and draped it over my brother’s remains. My heart felt like it was being carved out of my chest, but I tried calling Ava one last time. The number had been disconnected. I couldn’t hold on any longer. I collapsed next to my brother’s body, sobbing, my trembling hands trying and failing to close his wide, staring eyes. My tears fell onto the badge pinned to his chest. My brother, Ryan, never took that badge off. He said it was to remind himself that lives were on his shoulders. Running on nothing but fumes, I escorted my brother to the morgue and personally saw to his cremation. At the funeral, the Chief clapped my shoulder and made a promise. “What your brother did… he’s being put in for the Medal of Valor.” “As soon as the incident investigation is closed, we will hold a full honors memorial for him.” The funeral had just ended when my phone rang. A new number. It was Ava. Her tone was clipped, impatient. “I had to change my number, too many work calls. What’s wrong with you? Is this some kind of tantrum? You’re not even answering my texts?” I couldn’t form a single word. After scolding me for a few more seconds, she hung up in a huff. I opened her last text, sent two days before: [Marcus’s project is critical for my future. I’ll be back as soon as this is over. Tell your brother’s colleagues to figure something else out.] But by then, my brother was already gone. My already numb heart was pierced again. I opened her mentor’s social media feed. In just three days, he’d posted half a dozen times. From the group photo at the celebration dinner, to a brag about how Ava had dropped some “unimportant” personal matter to help him. The latest post was a picture of the two of them at a cocktail party, bathed in low light, smiling into each other’s eyes. A flood of comments from mutual friends poured in below. [Dr. Chen is usually so reserved. Looks like you’re the only one who gets to see her smile, Marcus.] [That’s what years of friendship will do.] Every word was a searing brand on my soul. It made sense, I guess. Ava and Marcus, they’d known each other for years, came up through the same program. To everyone else, they were the golden couple of the engineering world. If Marcus hadn’t gone overseas for his post-doc, I probably never would have had a chance. It was only after Ryan died that I finally understood. If you don’t live in the same world as someone, you can never truly share their joys or their sorrows. I sent Ava a single text message. [Ava, we’re done.] Then I blocked and deleted her from everything. I placed my brother’s ashes in a small wooden urn and set it carefully in my bedroom. I wanted to display all the medals and commendations Ryan had earned over the years next to him. But I couldn’t find them. I was tearing the apartment apart, frantic, when I ran into Ava and Marcus in the hallway. “See, Ava? You’re a miracle worker,” Marcus was saying, holding a box. “I mention wanting to build an architectural model, and you find me the perfect metal materials, with real heft.” “But these medals look pretty valuable. Are you sure it’s okay for me to melt them down?” Ava gave him a playful little punch on the arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got your back. It’s just some honorary stuff. Not nearly as important as your work.” I never dreamed she would take my brother’s medals—his honor—to win points with her mentor. I stared at the box in her hands, my throat closing up. Those medals were bought with every fire my brother walked into, with every life he snatched back from the jaws of death. “Ava. Those are my brother’s medals. Give them back to me.” My voice was shaking uncontrollably as I advanced on them. Ava shifted the box behind Marcus’s back, her brow furrowed. “What are you yelling about? It’s just a few pieces of tin.” Marcus jiggled the box, a smug grin on his face. “Hey, it’s Leo. Isn’t your brother still on that rescue? Heard it’s looking pretty optimistic.” “What’s with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Don’t be so cheap, it’s just a couple of old medals.” His words made Ava’s eyes turn to ice. “Leo, I can’t believe you. You’d even lie about something like that just to get me to come home early.” “I’m not lying!” I roared. My next-door neighbor opened her door, poking her head out to see the commotion. “My brother is gone, Ava! You chose to help Marcus instead!” “Gone?” Ava laughed, her voice dripping with contempt. “My friend at the fire department told me the rescue was a success. The man is out.” Marcus fanned the flames from the side. “Ava, I told you he was just trying to manipulate you, trying to make you abandon the project. You didn’t believe me.” “Good thing you stayed to help me, or you would’ve fallen right into his trap.” “Getting this worked up over a few worthless medals. I bet he was planning to sell them for cash.” “You’re a liar!” I lunged forward, trying to grab the box, but Ava stuck her foot out and tripped me. I hit the ground hard. A sharp pain shot through my knee, but my eyes were fixed on that box. Ryan’s Distinguished Service Cross, his Firefighter of the Year plaque, his Medal of Courage… Behind every single one was a scar left by the flames. And now, they were going to be melted down into a cold, lifeless architectural model. I scrambled back to my feet and lunged again, clamping my hand around Marcus’s wrist. “Give me the medals!” He struggled, and the box fell, spilling the medals across the floor. I reached for them, but he stomped his foot down hard on the back of my hand. The ribbon of one of the medals snapped under the heel of his leather shoe. With a yell of pure rage, I shoved him away and gathered the medals, clutching them to my chest. Marcus stumbled to the ground, a flash of malice in his eyes before he looked up at Ava, his expression turning to one of hurt. “Ava, it’s fine, if Leo doesn’t want to, we can forget it. He’s obviously just jealous that you were helping me.” “My project is secured now. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’ll be fine on my own…” Ava rushed to his side immediately, kicking me out of the way to help her beloved Marcus to his feet. “Leo, Marcus and I are purely professional colleagues. Why do you always have to be so possessive and petty?” The murmurs from the neighbors grew louder. [That kid’s got a mean streak. What’s the big deal if his girlfriend helps an old friend?] [Seriously, it’s just some medals. So dramatic.] Marcus shot me a triumphant smirk over Ava’s shoulder. “Ava, let’s just go. We’ll find another way.” Ava glared at me, finally moving her foot, but not before kicking one of the medals into the corner. “Leo, this is your last warning. There is nothing going on between Marcus and me.” “As for these medals, I’ll hold onto them for you. When you’ve cooled down and are ready to be reasonable, you can come and get them.” With that, she took Marcus’s arm and turned to leave. I ran back into my apartment and grabbed a utility knife from my desk, blocking their path. My eyes were bloodshot as I stared at Marcus. “Give me back my brother’s medals. Now.” Ava was shocked by my action, but her shock quickly turned to fury. “Put the knife down! Do you have any idea that Marcus has a severe anxiety disorder? You’re going to trigger him!” “Are you really going to assault someone in front of all your neighbors?” Amid the neighbors’ gasps, I lunged forward and pressed the blade against Marcus’s neck. “Give them back, or I swear to God I’ll kill you.” A thin red line appeared on his skin from the sharp edge. Ava’s face went white. “Leo, stop this, you’re insane. We’ll give them to you, just stop.” Only then did I release my grip. Ava anxiously checked Marcus’s neck, not sparing me a single glance. Marcus looked at her, terrified. “Ava, I had no idea he was this hostile towards me.” “Maybe I never should have come back and asked for your help. Ava, I think I should just go back overseas.” “The pressure from this project has already given me an anxiety disorder, but I don’t want to be the reason your relationship with Leo is destroyed.” Ava’s gaze flickered from the scratch on Marcus’s neck to me, and her expression was nothing but icy disappointment. “Leo, you have disappointed me more than I can say,” she said, supporting Marcus by the arm. “If you ever want to be with me again, you will get on your knees and apologize to Marcus. Right now.”

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In my last life, my best friend Ivy and I were a team. We married into the Harrison dynasty together, and we walked away from it together. The problem was, once we walked, we were broke. Utterly, hopelessly broke. We had no money, no skills, and no idea how to survive in the real world. Our grand finale? Asphyxiation from a faulty gas stove in a slum apartment. Meanwhile, our ex-husbands thrived. One of them married his childhood sweetheart, and the other went on to win a Grand Slam. So when I woke up back here, lying on a massage table in the mansion’s private spa, I just stared at her, my heart pounding in my throat. Ivy’s eyes met mine. “I’m not doing it,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Are you?” I thought of the divorce papers I’d once been so desperate to sign, and a wave of nausea washed over me. “Divorce?” I said, the word tasting like ash. “Not a chance in hell.” You have to stare death in the face to appreciate life. You have to taste real poverty to understand: the life of a pampered trophy wife isn’t a prison. It’s a goddamn cakewalk. 1 Who can understand the whiplash? One second, you’re in a slum apartment, feeling the strength drain from your limbs as the gas leak claims you, your last conscious thought a blur of regret. The next, you’re blinking awake in an 8,000-square-foot mansion, the scent of lavender oil in the air, the bliss of a deep-tissue massage soothing muscles you’d forgotten you had. Ivy and I can. We understand it all too well. We stared at each other from our respective massage tables in the spa room, tears welling in our eyes. A soft knock echoed on the door before it opened. It was my husband, Cole. “Ryan and I are waiting in the living room,” his voice was a low rumble, devoid of warmth. “I have a meeting later, and he needs to catch a flight.” Shit. I’d almost forgotten. In the timeline we’d just escaped, today was the day. After months of demanding a divorce, of navigating schedules and stonewalling assistants, today was D-Day. Ryan was a world-class tennis player, Cole was a CEO. It had taken three months just to get them in the same room. We scrambled into our clothes, minds racing. “Okay, plan B,” Ivy whispered, her voice tight. “We apologize, we beg, we grovel. We’re not too proud to bend, right?” “Bend?” I hissed back, pulling a silk blouse over my head. “I’ll break if I have to. We are not getting divorced.” Downstairs, Ryan sat on the cream-colored sofa, flipping through a coffee table book, his silence a heavy blanket. Cole stood with his back to us, staring out the floor-to-ceiling window, his posture radiating a chilling coldness. I nudged Ivy, a desperate plea in my eyes for her to go first. “So…” she started, her voice cracking. “You’re back.” Ryan snapped the book shut with a sound like a gunshot. His gaze flicked to her, sharp and dismissive. “Memory failing you? Weren’t you the one who told my agent you hoped I’d get knocked out in the first round so you could get this over with?” Ivy’s mouth snapped shut. She shot me a helpless look. My own voice trembled as I spoke. “Cole, maybe we could… not do this? The divorce?” He let out a short, bitter laugh, the sound scraping against my raw nerves. He didn’t even turn around. “And what about the 6’2” college athlete you’ve been keeping on the side? What happens to his promotion?” Right. I shut up too. In our frantic bid for freedom, we had said the cruelest things imaginable, aiming for the softest parts of these two men, just to get them to let us go. And it had worked. We’d walked away with our pride intact, refusing a single penny of their money. We were trophy wives, insulated by their dynasty. We knew nothing of poverty, nothing of the real world. We thought we were choosing freedom. We never imagined that freedom was just another word for broke. Job rejections. A bad investment that took the last of our savings. Eating ramen until we were sick of the sight of it. The two of us, who had once debated the merits of Michelin-starred restaurants, trying to cook for ourselves in a tiny, roach-infested kitchen. And in the end, a forgotten gas knob. A final, pathetic exit. The memory sent a shiver down my spine. Ivy was the first to move. She scurried over to Ryan’s side, her smile painfully bright. “Hey, I only said that because I missed you. I wanted you to come home to me.” I took my cue, rushing to Cole’s side and wrapping my arm around his. It was like hugging a marble statue. “He was just a lie, honey. Who needs a boy with abs when I have you?” It was the truth, at least that part. Whatever else our marriage had become, the nights were still… harmonious. We fought like enemies in the light of day, but in the dark, we… Cole flinched, then glanced down at my hand on his bicep as if it were a foreign object. That’s when I saw the deep, weary lines around his eyes. He looked exhausted. He peeled my fingers off his arm. “Leah, do you want stock options or a lump sum? Just name your price. I don’t have time for these games.” 2 We’d pushed too hard. Now, our sudden reversal just looked like a pathetic, last-ditch negotiation for a bigger settlement. I froze, words failing me as I tried to form a denial. But it was too late. Cole’s phone was already pressed to his ear as he walked away. Ryan was just as skeptical. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “My schedule is tight. Just tell my lawyer what you want. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” A black car was idling in the driveway. His tournament wasn’t even over; he’d flown halfway across the world just for this. Ivy’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I don’t want to get divorced,” she whispered. Ryan’s lips tightened into a thin line. He looked at her for a long moment, then said, “You’d better mean that,” before turning and walking out the door. Watching them leave, a wave of relief washed over me, quickly followed by a cold tide of fear. “What are we going to do?” I murmured, my voice hollow. “We have zero credibility with them.” I’ve followed Ivy’s lead my whole life. She was always the bold one, the decision-maker, and I was her loyal shadow. In moments like this, her thoughts were my anchor. She took a deep breath, her chin lifting with a familiar resolve. “The marriages might be on life support for now,” she said, her gaze firm. “We need a backup plan. A real one.” We were never going back. Never going back to that cramped apartment, to working minimum-wage jobs, to eating expired sushi from convenience stores. We would never again trade our dignity for survival. Not when we remembered what it felt like to live like this. Ivy turned to me, her expression all business. “Your husband… what’s his name again… how much does he give you for your allowance?” “Thirty thousand? Fifty? I lose track.” “A month? Perfect! You must have a couple million saved by now, right?” I winced. “It all sort of… became shoes. And bags.” Ivy stared at me, her look a perfect blend of horror and pity. “You spendthrift! You didn’t save a single dime?” I glared back. “The couture jacket you’re wearing right now? That was five grand of that allowance money.” Cole was generous, but I had nothing but time on my hands. Shopping was my only hobby. Ivy sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Okay, well, I’m no better. Every spare cent I had went to paying off my parents’ business debts.” Ivy’s family had been well-off once, but their business had been failing for years, and she was the only thing keeping it afloat. After our divorce in the other life, they’d declared bankruptcy. We collapsed onto the sofa, a symphony of synchronized sighs. Finally, Ivy slapped her thigh. “Okay, new plan. It’s not enough to just have their money. We’d just burn through a settlement anyway. We need to learn how to make our own. We stay married, we play nice, and we use this time to build real skills. Then, when we can stand on our own two feet, we can decide if we still want to leave.” It made sense. We were both graduates of prestigious universities, but we’d married into the Harrison dynasty right after college. The sheer, blinding luxury of it all had erased any ambition we once had. We hadn’t worked a day in our lives. We were completely useless, unemployable. The decision was made. Ivy would buckle down and study for the GMATs, aiming for a top-tier MBA program. I would leverage the Harrison name—our greatest asset—to get a job and gain corporate experience. It was shamelessly easy. The moment a potential employer saw “Wife of Cole Harrison” under the ‘Family’ section of my resume, the world rolled out the red carpet. I landed an offer from a mid-sized marketing firm without a single difficult question. I showed up for my first day in a Chanel suit, basking in the glow of my new boss’s sycophantic smiles. But there was a downside. Everyone was terrified of me. No one gave me any real work. I could have sat there naked and no one would have dared to say a word, let alone ask me to file a report. I wasn’t gaining experience; I was a decorative object. Just as I was about to give up, a task finally came my way. My boss asked me to deliver a file to a meeting in the main conference room. I pushed open the heavy glass doors and my heart stopped. There, at the head of the long table, sat Cole, looking severe and immaculate in a tailored suit.

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Four years of long-distance. I flew a thousand miles for our concert date. But she gave my ticket to her “friend” from school, and I watched them walk in, holding hands. They framed me as a scalper. I was beaten by the crowd. She just stood there, watching coldly, even backing their story. Afterward, her call was breezy and dismissive. “You’re such a good guy, you won’t blame me, right? Now be good, fly down to my city, and we’ll get married.” I laughed. Then I turned around, bought a ticket home, and blocked her on everything. Years later, she returned—a world-famous scientist—and stood before me, demanding I take her back as if it were her right. I just introduced her to my wife standing beside me and the son in my arms. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Have we met?” 1 The tickets were gone. After a four-year, long-distance relationship, my girlfriend Ava had suggested we finally meet in the middle, at a reunion concert for The Wanderers. I’d flown a thousand miles to a city I didn’t know, and when I got to the will-call window, the attendant gave me a pitying look. “Sorry, sir. These tickets have already been picked up.” I figured Ava must have grabbed them. But when I called her, it went straight to voicemail. Again and again. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. Dejected, I was drifting toward the main gate when I saw her. She was standing in the security line, her hand laced through the fingers of some handsome, clean-cut guy I’d never seen before. Something hot and sharp flared in my chest. I walked straight up to them. “Ava?” Before she could answer, the guy with her shot me a wounded look. His eyes were actually turning red. “Dude,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I paid you ten times face value for this ticket. What, you think you sold it too cheap? Today’s my one-year anniversary with my girlfriend. I’ll give you another twenty bucks, just leave us alone, man.” I stared at Ava, waiting for her to clear this up, to laugh it off as a crazy misunderstanding. Instead, she just looked at me, her expression hardening, and backed him up. She let him slander me. Suddenly, I was the enemy. The crowd around us, smelling blood, turned on me. “Scalper!” someone yelled. “Trying to rip the kid off on his anniversary?” another one shouted. Voices rose, people shoved, and before I knew it, a fist connected with my jaw. Someone kicked me from behind. They were all screaming about calling the cops, about parasites like me ruining everything. The concert ended hours later. Only then did Ava finally call, her voice breezy and casual, as if nothing had happened. “That was Ethan, a guy from my program. He just went through a really bad breakup, and The Wanderers are his all-time favorite band, so I just… let him use your ticket. You’re such a good guy, Caleb. I knew you’d understand, right?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Anyway, listen! I just have this one summer project left and then I’m done, I graduate. You should book a flight down to Miami, come to campus. I’ll show you around, and then… we can go home together. Go to the courthouse. What do you think?” “Okay,” I said, my voice flat. “Sounds good.” Then I hung up and bought a bus ticket. The destination wasn’t Miami. It was Maine. She had no idea that I never wanted to marry her again. “Caleb, I checked for you,” Ava’s voice had said through the phone, tinny and distant. “There’s a seat on the midnight Greyhound. You should book it now. It’s too loud to talk here with everyone leaving the stadium, I’m gonna go.” Click. I sat in the fluorescent hum of the bus station, my phone dead in my hand. I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound that pulled at the fresh cut on my lip. After she’d let a mob of strangers beat me up, I’d stormed off to the airport, intending to leave immediately. But a sliver of foolish hope kept me there, a fantasy that there was some noble, complicated reason for her betrayal. I’d sat in that sterile waiting area all night, waiting for an explanation that would make it all make sense. All I got was an excuse about some lovesick kid from her program. That was her reason for holding another man’s hand, for joining him in painting me as a greedy scalper? And her suggestion… her school was in Miami. The only way to get to my hometown in Maine from there, besides a flight, was a grueling three-day bus journey. She knew I got violently motion sick. The last time I took a long bus ride to save money, I was pale and useless for a week. The old Ava would have stayed up all night trying to find me a cheap flight. The old Ava, if she couldn’t find one, would have cried, apologizing over and over for making me endure that kind of misery. This new Ava didn’t even seem to care. Her carelessness was a shard of ice in my gut. I didn’t hesitate anymore. I booked the next bus heading north, back to Maine. It was leaving in twenty minutes. The bus had been on the road for a few hours, deep into the black of night, when she called again. “Ethan and I have to go out of town for that summer project,” she said, her voice rushed. “It’ll be at least a week. When you get to Miami, just find a hotel or something. It’ll give you a chance to heal up.” Right before she hung up, I heard his voice in the background, syrupy sweet. “Ava, I’ve got the whole road trip planned out…” My mouth twisted into a sneer. How thoughtful of her to invent a cover story for their little vacation. How considerate of her to remember that I was, in fact, covered in bruises and bleeding because of her. While strangers were screaming at me, calling me a scumbag, threatening to have me arrested, she had just stood there, watching, her expression as cold as a winter morning. The memory of it still chilled me to the bone. I opened my messaging app, my thumb hovering over the keyboard, ready to tell her I wasn’t coming. That’s when a friend request popped up. The username was “Ethan_G.” I froze. Ava’s username, for as long as I’d known her, was “Ava_My_Guy.” The request message read: Hey man, sorry about that. You just looked so much like the asshole who stole my last girlfriend, I just lost it for a second. I just said whatever to get you to leave, I never thought people would actually believe it and jump you. Ava made me text you to apologize! Then, a five-dollar transfer notification from a payment app popped up. For your medical bills. Get some ointment or something. Don’t worry about paying me back the change. It was him. Every word, dripping with condescending sarcasm, felt like another slap across the face. Until tonight, he had just been a name, a phantom in Ava’s stories from school. At first, she’d complained about some clueless junior in her lab group. Then, slowly, it shifted. When I’d ask what she was up to, she’d be having dinner with Ethan, playing tennis with Ethan. Soon, she was calling him ‘E.’ I’d admitted it bothered me, said I wanted to see a picture of this guy she spent so much time with. She’d brushed it off. “Oh, come on. He’s not as handsome as you. Besides, he has a girlfriend. Don’t be jealous.” I remember one time I called her on video, feeling low after my scholarship application was rejected. She was in the middle of an experiment but picked up anyway. Seeing my face, she immediately put on a goofy dancing bee filter to try and cheer me up. Then Ethan had popped into the frame. He’d snatched the phone from her, switched the filter to a kitten one, and said with a smirk, “Ava, that filter is lame. The one I picked for you is way better.” She’d laughed, calling him a pest as they playfully fought over the phone, the filters flashing wildly between bees and cats and aliens. I just watched, a silent, awkward third wheel. I couldn’t get a word in. When she finally won the phone back, her face framed by the kitten filter Ethan had chosen, she’d smiled at the screen. “E is so ridiculous. Caleb, why are you so quiet?” A sour, indescribable knot had formed in my throat. She must have sensed I didn’t like him, because she stopped mentioning him as much after that. Until tonight. At the concert. I finally put the face to the name. He was good-looking, I guess. But he wasn’t as handsome as me. But he had something I didn’t. He had the swagger, the unshakeable confidence of someone who knows they’re backed up by the person they love. And suddenly, the whole thing just felt… exhausting. I didn’t bother replying. I just blocked him. I turned my head and stared out the window. The endless black of night slowly gave way to the soft, grey promise of dawn. I’d taken hundreds of flights and bus rides over the past four years, but I’d never once noticed how beautiful the scenery was. I was always so consumed with the journey being over, with just seeing Ava again. The next morning, at seven o’clock, I was home. I tried to slip in quietly, but my parents were already awake. They were sitting in the living room, studying a neon sign I’d ordered that spelled out the word “MARRY ME?” in bright pink letters. They looked from the sign to my bruised face. “Honey, what happened to your face?” my mom asked, her voice tight with worry. “Why are you back alone? I thought you were going to the concert with Ava… and proposing? We were about to decorate the house to surprise her… Where’s Ava?” My hand instinctively went to the small, velvet box in my pocket. I’d bought the ring weeks ago, a simple, perfect diamond, convinced this trip would mark the end of our four years apart. I was going to ask her to marry me under the stadium lights. Instead, I was a joke. And the ring would never leave its box. Faced with their gentle concern, the dam inside me broke. A wave of humiliation and grief washed over me. I placed the ring box on the coffee table, my voice a raw whisper. “Just… return all this stuff, okay? We’re not getting married.” I escaped to my room before they could ask anything else. We’d been together since high school—seven years. My parents already thought of her as a daughter. I had no idea how to explain this to them. They must have understood. They left me alone until lunchtime, when a soft knock came at my door. “Caleb? Come on out and eat something, son.” The table was filled with all my favorites. Halfway through the meal, there was a knock at the front door. “Carol! It’s me! Can I borrow your car for a bit?” That familiar, booming voice belonged to Ava’s mom. Our families lived next door to each other; we’d been borrowing cups of sugar and lawnmowers our whole lives. My mom opened the door. Ava’s mom saw me sitting at the table and stopped short. “Caleb? Weren’t you two supposed to come back together?” I just stared at her, confused. She looked just as baffled. “Ava called. She said she’s coming in on the afternoon bus today. She asked me to pick her up from the station.” 2 I was stunned. Wasn’t she on a road trip with Ethan? Ava’s mom, oblivious, just smiled. “Well, since you’re here, Caleb, why don’t you come with me to get her?” The last thing I wanted was to worry our parents. I nodded. At the bus station, I smoked two cigarettes back-to-back, trying to find some semblance of calm. I decided I would face her, be civil, and get this over with. I wasn’t prepared for the sight of them walking out of the terminal, two figures leaning into each other, their hands intertwined. The moment Ava saw me, she dropped his hand like it was on fire. Her mother’s brow furrowed. “Ava, who is this with you?” Ava didn’t look at her mother. She stared straight at me, her voice sharp and defensive. “He’s a junior from my program. It’s too hot back home for him, and he doesn’t have the money to travel. What’s the big deal if I bring him to our town for the summer?” I didn’t say a word. I just dropped my cigarette, crushed it under my shoe, and got into the driver’s seat of the car. Ava’s mom smacked her lightly on the back. “What is wrong with you? The way you speak… Only Caleb is patient enough to put up with your temper!” Ava, furious, banged on my window. “Caleb, what the hell is this? Are you following me? I told you to go to my school in Miami!” Her mom cut in before I could. “He got back this morning. How could he have followed you?” The anger seemed to drain out of her, replaced by confusion. She did the math. It was impossible. Her lips parted, then pressed into a thin line. She pulled Ethan into the back seat without another word. The ride home was heavy with a strange, suffocating silence. When we parked, her mom, trying to salvage the situation, suggested a big family dinner. It was what we always did. I had no reason to say no. By dinnertime, nothing had changed. Usually, our parents would save two seats next to each other for me and Ava. Tonight, Ava sat down and pulled Ethan into the seat beside her. Every eye at the table flickered toward me. I kept my face neutral and took an empty chair on the other side. Ethan shot me a smug look, then launched into a loud, animated conversation with Ava about inside jokes from their campus, laughing obnoxiously. The whole spectacle turned my stomach. Halfway through the meal, I excused myself and went upstairs to my old room. I didn’t expect him to follow me. He walked in without knocking. With a single, deliberate motion, he swept the framed photo on my desk to the floor. It was a picture of me and Ava from our high school graduation, our arms around each other, making a heart shape with our hands. The glass shattered. I turned and looked at him, my voice dangerously quiet. “Wandering into someone else’s room? Breaking their things? Is that what they teach you at home?” Ethan just smirked, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket and slapping it down on the desk. “Cut the crap, Caleb. Do you really think she’s going to spend the rest of her life in this frozen wasteland with you?” “Sorry to break it to you, but she’s already applied for the graduate program at our university. She’s staying in Miami to take care of me, make sure I adjust to my senior year okay. But hey, if you want to keep being a pathetic leech, you can stick with her. Enjoy another three years of long-distance.” On the desk was a graduate school application. It was already filled out, signed by Ava at the bottom. My chest tightened. It felt like the air had been punched out of my lungs. I remembered Ava, years ago, crying into the phone. “Caleb, just give me four years. I promise. The second I graduate, I’m coming home. Even if I go to grad school, I’ll apply to the one back home!” The last ember of hope in my heart died out. I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “If you’re so desperate to have a mommy take care of you at school, nobody’s stopping you. But don’t worry, I have no interest in being this kid’s stepdad.” Ethan’s face turned crimson with rage. He pointed a trembling finger at me, speechless. Suddenly, the soft creak of footsteps sounded on the stairs. His ears twitched. Seizing the moment, he shoved me hard. Caught off guard, I stumbled back against the desk. He grabbed my head and slammed it down toward the sharp corner. As I fell, my hand instinctively shot out, grabbing the desk lamp and pulling it down with me in a chaotic crash of metal and broken glass. When Ava burst into the room, she saw me on the floor, my vision blurring, blood trickling down from my forehead.

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