Category: English

Genevieve and I were at City Hall, one signature—one final photo—away from legally becoming husband and wife, when her phone rang, and she was gone. She left me standing alone in the Marriage License Office, paralyzed and staring at the photographer’s empty backdrop. I called her phone. No answer. I sent a text. Nothing back. Finally, I called her childhood best friend’s number. Genevieve answered. “Liam, can you stop being so annoying? Brand twisted his ankle playing hoops, and I need to take him home and ice it down. Don’t keep calling and waking him up! We can just reschedule, okay?” My voice was a rough whisper. “This is the seventh time, Genevieve.” “So what? The office isn’t going anywhere!” A clerk looked at me with pity. “Sir, are you still going through with this?” I nodded, feeling the floor shift beneath me. “Yes. I am.” 1 I called my buddy’s older sister, a woman I’d met exactly once, and agreed to her outrageous proposition. I hung up, told the clerk I needed a few minutes, and stood there, the silence in my head deafening. It wasn’t long before Zara arrived. She rode a sleek, black Ducati, and when she walked in, peeling off her leather jacket and helmet, the entire office—staff and all—stared. She walked straight to me, hooked one long leg over the other, and grinned. “So, you finally decided? Ready to go through with this whole fake-marriage-to-shut-up-our-families thing?” I gave a small, defeated nod. It was initially just about getting my family off my back, but honestly, the most crucial part was Grandpa George. His health had been failing fast for the last six months, and every time I visited him in the hospital, he would ask when I was getting married. He wanted to see me in a tux. He wanted to know I’d be safe. He wanted to know someone would ‘cherish’ me after he was gone. That’s why I had been pushing Genevieve so hard to marry me all these months. We’d shown up here, at this very office, seven times. Every single time, Brand was the reason for the failure. The last time, Brand had a migraine, and she had to go home to make sure he took his meds. The time before that, Brand lost his keys and was locked out, and she had to drive across town to let him in. The time before that, Brand was craving the signature Lobster Roll from The Pier Cafe—clear on the other side of the city—and she had to rush to stand in line. Seven times. Every single one for Brand. Every single time, Genevieve threw me away without a second thought. The final, bitter irony? I gave her seven chances, and she wouldn’t even give me the five minutes it took to snap the photo. To be honest, I wasn’t that heartbroken by Genevieve’s final exit. Maybe I was just numb, or maybe I’d seen it coming. But the raw, physical grief hit me when I remembered Grandpa’s words from last week. “Liam, I don’t think I have much time left. I might not see you in that tuxedo. But even if you’re alone, you have to be brave. Don’t let anyone step all over you.” I had promised him I would be brave. And that meant no more compromises. Genevieve, you used up all your chances. All seven of them. The process with Zara was disturbingly quick. Everything went smoothly. But just as Zara and I were getting ready for our official photo, my phone buzzed. It was Genevieve. [Okay, Liam, stop being mad. I really couldn’t get away this time, but I made you your favorite dinner. Waiting for you when you get home! xoxo] Zara glanced at my phone, a look of cool detachment in her eyes. “Still going to do this?” I took a deep breath, my face blank. “Keep going.” We finished the paperwork. We took the picture. We walked out with a marriage certificate in my hand. Before she started her bike, I spoke. “Are you free tomorrow? There’s one more thing I need you to come with me for.” Zara swung her leg over the Ducati’s seat. “Call me. I’m sure my parents will need you to make an appearance sooner than you think.” Then, she was gone. Seven years of dating Genevieve—four years in college, three years after. A lifetime of history, broken. And now, I was married to my buddy’s sister, a woman I had met once. On the drive home, Genevieve sent another message, complete with a photo: the dining table laden with all the food she’d promised. [Seriously, where are you? Dinner’s ready. If you’re late, it’ll be gone!] She was true to her word. When I got back to the apartment, the dining table was a disaster. The food was scraped clean. Brand was sitting nearby, looking up at me with fake innocence. He spoke in a high, pitiful tone. “I’m so sorry, bro. I was just so hungry, I couldn’t wait.” Even I wasn’t stupid enough to miss the blatant smirk underneath the veneer of apology. He was provoking me. My blood turned to ice. I clenched my fists until my nails dug painfully into my palms. Brand and Genevieve were inseparable childhood friends. In her eyes, he was always the highest priority. It wasn’t always this way. In the beginning, our relationship had been easy. We rarely fought. Even when it was my fault, she’d take the blame immediately. My friends envied me for having a woman who cherished me that much. That envy ended six months ago, the day Brand showed up. Her affection for me vanished. “Liam, why are you just now getting back? I texted you hours ago.” Genevieve emerged from the kitchen, her eyebrows knitted in annoyance. She was used to me dropping everything and racing home the second she called. “I was delayed with something on the road. I’m late.” “What was so important that you missed dinner?” Her tone was flat, but edged with accusation. I had no intention of telling her about the marriage. I had decided to leave, and from this moment forward, Genevieve was a stranger. I was here for one thing: my luggage. “Nothing. The company needs me to travel. I’m here to pack my bags.” I didn’t wait for her response and walked straight to the bedroom. But the moment I opened the door, I froze. The bed I had neatly made that morning was tossed. The closet was open, clothes piled everywhere. I could ignore all that. But on the floor, next to the nightstand, lay the hand-built replica of the Empire State Building Grandpa and I spent months piecing together—the one he gave me. It was snapped clean in half. Shards of the plastic frame littered the rug. I couldn’t hold it in. I shouted her name. “Who was in this room? Who touched my things?” Genevieve walked in, frowned, and then shrugged, her face smoothing into indifference. “It’s just some craft project, Liam. I’ll get someone to glue it back together for you.” I stared at her. That careless tone—it was the exact sound of someone saying, you don’t matter. And because of that, I knew it had to be Brand. Only he was worthy of her complete, irrational protection. “Brand broke it, didn’t he.” My calm question ignited her. She immediately flared up, eyes narrowed. “Do you have proof it was Brand? Maybe it wasn’t secured properly and just fell over!” “Don’t you dare accuse people, Liam! Before you blame Brand, you need evidence, or I’ll sue you for defamation!” The soft flesh inside my cheek was almost chewed through. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. She was truly going to protect him. I was the one who was defamed, just for asking a simple question. The Genevieve I loved wasn’t like this. I remembered the rainy night I fell for her. I’d been in a car accident, and she’d run to me, without an umbrella, yelling at the other driver. This reserved woman had shed every ounce of composure for me, fighting anyone who threatened me. Where was that Genevieve? I didn’t fight it. As she said, I had no proof. I knelt down carefully, gathering the broken pieces of the skyscraper. Brand hobbled in from the doorway, his voice thick with fake tears. “Brother, please don’t fight with Genevieve because of me!” “Even if I didn’t do it, if you have to blame me, then blame me. No one ever liked me anyway, so it’s normal for you not to like me.” He intentionally limped closer and then knelt down in front of me. He pressed his bandaged foot onto one of the larger fragments and twisted it slowly. He leaned in, his voice dangerously low. “Yeah, it was me. What are you going to do?” Rage exploded in my skull, and I lunged, reaching to push him away. But before I even touched him, Brand conveniently stumbled, collapsing onto the ground. His wrapped foot then precisely hit the nightstand. A scream followed immediately. “Brother! I only wanted to help you!” Before I could process any of it, Genevieve had me by the hair. She was holding me with a grip I’d never felt, her eyes wide and terrifying, burning with a hatred that felt murderous. “Even if you don’t like Brand, you don’t have to hurt him! He’s an injured patient!” My head was yanked up, forcing me to look at them. A crushing bitterness spread from my tongue, tearing holes in my chest. “I didn’t even touch him!” The slap hit me across the face before I could finish the sentence. The red mark was instant. “You’re still lying? Liam, do you think I’m blind? I was standing right behind you! I saw you push him!” “First you accuse him, and now you knock him down. I never knew you were this cruel. You’re malicious!” My breath caught. I couldn’t argue. Nothing I said would change her mind now. She released me and looked down at me with cold disappointment. “No excuse, huh, Liam? You’re disgusting.” I felt a strange sense of relief. If I’d held onto one last flicker of hope for her, it had just been extinguished. Everything was quiet now. I didn’t defend myself. I didn’t try to explain. Brand, nestled in Genevieve’s arms, looked at me with smug victory. He mouthed one sentence, but I understood perfectly. “You’ll never be good enough for Genevieve.” Fine. You can have her. Genevieve panicked over Brand’s foot and rushed him to the hospital. I slowly stood up. The reflection in the mirror showed the angry, burning red of the handprint on my cheek. I could tell how much force she had used. I laughed, a dry, bitter sound, and wiped the slow bleed from the corner of my mouth. That slap shattered every illusion I’d ever held. I used the quiet time to gather everything in the apartment. All my clothes went into the suitcase. Anything I couldn’t take, I tossed into the trash. Before I left, I called a real estate agent and listed the house online. It was mine. Grandpa George had used his retirement savings to buy it for me as a wedding gift. Now, I didn’t need it. Dirty things. And I was done living in filth.

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For five years, Harry Shaw, my boyfriend from one of the city’s elite families, always said his mother favored an independent daughter-in-law. When I forgot my fob key downstairs while walking the dog and called him for help, he replied: “Eliza, it’s only the eighteenth floor. Put some effort into it and climb up.” “When you meet my mom, she’ll definitely praise you for being such a resourceful, strong young woman. You’ll be one step closer to becoming a Shaw.” I understood the rules of old money—they had a lot of them—so I quietly put the ninety-pound Alaskan Malamute on my shoulder and climbed the stairs. When my direct-entry Ph.D. fellowship was suddenly revoked by the university and I asked him to call the committee head, he scoffed: “You need me to step in for something like this? How can you ever be a qualified Mrs. Shaw?” Even when my mother, Diane, was diagnosed with acute lymphoma, and I begged him to lend me a hundred thousand dollars for the surgery, his refusal was icy: “Eliza, you need to find this money yourself. Our family doesn’t like people who can’t take care of their own financial problems.” I was running a DoorDash delivery to earn money for my mother’s care when I got the message that she had died. Simultaneously, Harry Shaw’s good deed—helping a classmate with farm work in her hometown—went viral on social media. #HarryShawSpottedWithNewGirlfriend,ParentsAreFarmers #SierraWells,TheFellowshipSlot #ShawHeirSpendsThreeMillionToBuildWellsFamilyFarm My takeout bag slipped, scattering dinner all over the pavement. It was in that moment, staring at the ruined meal, that I finally understood. It wasn’t that the Shaw family needed an independent daughter-in-law. It was that Harry simply had no room for me in his life. 1 When I finally reached the hospital, the life monitor over Mom’s bed was displaying that terrifying, single flat line. The doctor had already covered her with a white sheet, leaving her pushed casually to the side of the room. I completely broke down, collapsing to the floor and pleading with the physician: “Doctor, why aren’t you trying to save her? Why did you stop?” The doctor stepped back, a look of tired annoyance on his face. “Ms. Cole, you owe us over two hundred thousand in medical bills for the last month.” “We gave you a final ultimatum. If the payment wasn’t made today, we had no choice but to stop treatment.” Tears blurring my vision, I scrambled for my phone. “My boyfriend is very wealthy. I’m calling him right now to come pay.” “Please, just try to revive her again.” I called him over and over, each time resulting in the long, hopeful du-du-du that ended only with a hang-up. The doctor looked at me like I was insane. “Ms. Cole, please accept our condolences.” How could I possibly accept that Mom was just… gone? My father died when I was three. My mother raised me alone, never once considering remarriage, her entire focus on me. When relatives mocked her for letting a girl read so much, urging me to work and help her, she stood behind me, a rock, promising to support my education for as long as I wanted to study. Just then, my phone started buzzing incessantly. The class group chat had exploded. Sierra Wells had posted photos of Harry, bent over, applying fertilizer. [Harry worked so hard today, cutie pie ~] [My parents were stressing about those acres, but Harry brought a dozen of his security staff to help, and they finished everything in one day.] [Oh, he also paid to expand our land and fulfill my parents’ dream of running a real farm.] Tears traced slow, hot paths down my cheeks. I noticed the crescent-shaped indentations my fingernails had left in my palms; blood was dripping onto the tile floor. Someone chimed in: [Saw the news about you two today! Harry, what’s the deal? Why are you being so sweet to Sierra?] [Seriously, people might think you’re actually dating. You were never this nice to your actual girlfriend.] [Yeah, haven’t seen you and Eliza in a while. Did you break up?] Harry didn’t deny it or confirm it. He just replied: [Everyone’s happy today, and it happens to be Sierra’s mother’s birthday.] [Sierra mentioned she’s never had a real birthday celebration. I’m hosting a dinner tonight. How about everyone comes to join the fun and sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Mrs. Wells?] Harry had always looked out for Sierra, claiming her family was poor and she’d be discriminated against without his help. He insisted that as classmates, it was his duty to provide extra care. I used to feel an ache of discomfort, but I’d always manage to convince myself that Harry was just a kind-hearted person. But now, looking at my quiet, cold mother, and then at the celebratory noise in the group chat, I felt like the biggest fool alive. Since Mom got sick, I’d been begging Harry to lend me the money, offering to sign an IOU. He always refused, giving me the same line: “Eliza, what if you didn’t have me as a boyfriend?” “The Shaw family rules are strict. If my mother finds out you relied on me to save your mom, you’ll never marry me. She’ll look down on you.” “Be a good girl. Rely on yourself.” And now, he was hosting a lavish birthday gala for Sierra’s mother at the city’s best hotel. The cost of a single table was three times my mother’s monthly treatment fee. Finally, Harry called me back. The first words out of his mouth were: “Don’t bother with DoorDash tonight. Sierra wants you to come to her mother’s birthday dinner, too.” “How much do you earn in a day? I’ll compensate you. Is two hundred dollars enough?” 2 My voice was trembling, impossible to control. “Harry, what is your relationship with Sierra?” “What relationship could it be? We’re classmates.” The tears wouldn’t stop falling. “Then why are you so devoted to her and so completely negligent of me?” He sounded annoyed. “How many times do I have to explain this to you?” “We’re classmates; it’s the right thing to help her, isn’t it?” “You, on the other hand, are my girlfriend, my future wife. I’ve always been training you to be a proper, independent, and compliant Mrs. Shaw.” The same old excuse. I’d heard it too many times. But the attention he gave Sierra had long crossed every line, making me flash back to when he was pursuing me. Then, he couldn’t do enough; he would painstakingly remove the seeds from strawberries for me and shower me with designer bags and jewelry. Everyone on the campus forum envied me, and the question I heard most often was: “Harry, why are you so good to Eliza? Aren’t wealthy guys usually playboys?” “Because I love Eliza, and keeping her happy is my only priority.” “And I’ll be the most loyal man this family has ever produced.” He changed the moment Sierra transferred to our program. Suddenly, he decided he’d spoiled me too much and started preaching independence as the key to marrying him. I should have seen it then: he had changed his mind. “Harry, I’ve had enough. Whoever wants to be a Shaw wife can have it. I’m out.” “What is wrong with you today? Did you drink battery acid?” I screamed into the phone. “My mother is dead, Harry. Do you know why? Because I couldn’t afford her hospital bill, and the doctors stopped her medication.” “If you had just loaned me the money, her disease wouldn’t have progressed this fast.” “She wouldn’t have died from lack of treatment.” Silence on the other end. Then a brittle laugh. “Eliza, stop lying.” “I’ve explained this to you so many times. If I loan you money, people will think you’re a gold-digger. If that rumor reaches my family, you’ll never get in. I was protecting our future.” “And now you’re so jealous you’re fabricating your mother’s death just to make me feel guilty. Eliza, how could you be so manipulative?” Sierra snatched the phone. Her voice was a whiny, pleading whisper. “Eliza, don’t scare him like that.” “There’s really nothing going on between us. Harry just felt sorry for me and helped me out.” “Giving me your direct-entry fellowship and helping my family build a farm… he’s done so much for me. How could I ever be cruel enough to break you two up?” My heart seized for a second. The air I gasped for tasted metallic, like blood. “What did you just say?” When my fellowship was revoked and handed to Sierra, I tried to get an explanation from the committee head, who was Harry’s uncle. I was constantly brushed off and told it was confidential. I never, in my wildest nightmares, considered that Harry had actively sabotaged me. He kept talking about how the Shaw family preferred a competent and independent woman, all while deliberately clipping my wings to nourish hers. It was a vicious joke. Sierra sounded close to tears. “Eliza, did I say something wrong?” Harry took the phone back. “Okay, stop causing a scene. It’s no big deal.” “You’ll have everything you want once you marry into the Shaw family. Why are you competing with Sierra?” “I’ll double my compensation—is five hundred dollars enough? Just drop your delivery bag and come celebrate with us.” I wanted to refuse, but the doctor shoved a final bill into my hand: “Total outstanding balance is just under two hundred seventy thousand. The chief told me if it’s not paid within three days, we have to file a lawsuit.” Tears dripped onto the paper. After a month of non-stop DoorDash shifts, my salary was less than nine thousand dollars. On the phone, Harry was already raising the offer to five thousand for the night. “Eliza, seriously, enough is enough. It’s five grand. Don’t push your luck and think you can manipulate me.” I swallowed, my voice flat. “I’ll come to the party. Thirty thousand dollars for the night.” I was ready for his outright refusal, but he was willing to pay anything to keep Sierra happy. “Fine. Thirty thousand. But wear something festive tonight. Stop wearing those drab, awful clothes of yours.” After hanging up, I leaned over my mother, feeling her already cold skin one last time. My tears soaked the white sheet. That’s when I noticed a small piece of paper clutched in her hand. I carefully unfolded it. It listed the location of her savings book and an address in Boston: [Liza, after I’m gone, go to your Uncle Leo.] 3 Before I could process the note, the hearse arrived. I followed my mother to the funeral home. Harry’s messages immediately started popping up: [Why aren’t you here yet? Everyone’s waiting for you.] [Just wired you 30k. Put the memo as: Voluntary Gift.] The thirty thousand dollars appeared in my account. For a brief, agonizing second, a wave of bitterness washed over me. He really was that generous when it came to making Sierra happy. I spent the ride staring out the window, deep in thought, until we arrived at the hotel. The moment I stepped into the private ballroom, a cheer erupted. Harry had Sierra’s chin tilted up, and he was kissing her aggressively, their embrace melting together. Their faces were flushed. Beside them, two middle-aged people, her parents, were taking proud photos. I froze. The scabs on the cuts I’d made on my palm the day before were split open again, blood welling up and running over my hand. Just then, a volley of fireworks exploded outside. They pulled apart, looking slightly breathless. “Mom and Dad, I told you Harry was your future son-in-law! You didn’t believe me!” Sierra giggled. “He promised me he’d be good to me forever.” “Look! These are all the gifts he got you. And the fireworks display!” [HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MRS. WELLS. GOOD HEALTH AND GOOD FORTUNE.] The huge message lit up the night sky, and Sierra’s mother beamed, barely able to contain her joy. “Oh, you sweet boy. You’ve put so much thought into this.” “Did this birthday party cost you a lot?” Harry smiled charmingly. “It was nothing, Mrs. Wells. Just over three million dollars.” “As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.” My heart twisted in my chest. To please Sierra, he was willing to spend three million dollars on a birthday gala for her mother. Yet he wouldn’t lend me one hundred thousand dollars, despite five years of shared life, to save my own mother. Harry Shaw, how could I not resent you? I turned to leave, but Sierra called out. She was smiling, holding up her phone. “Eliza, you made it.” “Could you take a family picture for us?” Harry looked momentarily guilty, but he quickly fell back into character. As the shutter clicked, my heart pulsed with a sharp, blinding pain. The photos were instantly posted online, causing an uproar along with the fireworks. Everyone gushed: [They look so perfect and so happy!] [Marry a man like this! Handsome, rich, and so devoted to spoiling his girl.] [Mr. Shaw, stop being so in love already!] I don’t know how I made it through the rest of the night. All I remember is that, in the end, Harry hailed me a cab. “Eliza, Sierra’s asleep. I need to take her home myself.” “You go ahead.” “Driver, take her to the Ridgewood Estates.” I shook my head. “No. To the funeral home.” Harry’s face went pale. “Eliza, stop this. Seriously.” “Why in the hell would you go to a funeral home? Are you trying to deliberately disgust me?” “Sierra is the guest of honor tonight. We were just putting on a show for her and her parents.” I laughed. After everything, he was still trying to explain. But it no longer mattered. He felt more repulsive to me now than the bile-inducing vodka I’d downed earlier. I told the driver, “The funeral home, please.” On the way back, the cab’s radio was playing the news, which happened to be an interview with Harry’s mother, Mrs. Shaw. The reporter asked: “Have you seen the news about your son’s public romance? What are your thoughts?” “It seems like he is very devoted to this relationship, spending millions on his girlfriend’s mother’s birthday party.” “The girl’s parents are farmers. The family background doesn’t match the Shaw Dynasty. Will you break them up?” Mrs. Shaw’s voice was warm and gentle. “I just saw the news. The girl seems wonderful.” “The Shaw family has always supported freedom in marriage. As long as my son is happy, we don’t have all those archaic rules.” A fresh wave of bitterness washed over me. The image she presented was nothing like the “strict matriarch” Harry had always described. I finally knew the truth: the “strict rules” were just a convenient lie Harry had used to push me away once he’d found someone else to obsess over. That night, I kept vigil by my mother’s casket. Harry was exchanging intimate videos with Sierra. My phone buzzed: [Eliza, did you see? Mrs. Shaw already approves of me. I am his legitimate girlfriend.] [You are nothing but a pet Harry kept around for his own amusement. A dog.] [He has no feelings for you. Now get lost.] She was right. But even a cornered dog will bite. 4 After I buried my mother, I held up my ID and posted a video to social media, reporting Sierra Wells’s fellowship slot as an act of fraud and unauthorized transfer. The video went viral within minutes. The most absurd thing was that Harry, who hadn’t contacted me in days, violently slammed open the door of my apartment. His face was red with fury. “What the hell is this online report? What do you think you’re doing?” “Do you realize this could ruin Sierra’s career?” “Is this the measure of the future Mrs. Shaw? You need to go online right now and post a retraction, saying you only slandered Sierra because you were jealous.” I stared into his raging eyes, my reply firm. “You two are sleeping together. How am I still connected to you?” “Stop trying to gaslight me with that ‘Mrs. Shaw’ nonsense.” Then Sierra rushed in, collapsing onto her knees in front of me, crying: “Eliza, we just lost control for a moment! I promise I’ll stay away from Harry from now on, okay?” “Are you really going to destroy my future just for this?” I laughed, a dry, humorless sound. “What future? The one you stole from me?” Smack. Harry’s palm landed hard across my cheek. He pulled Sierra up, his expression full of protective concern. “Sierra, you don’t need to beg her.” “Eliza, I’ll give you three minutes to reconsider.” My ears were ringing. I fought back the tears and returned the slap with all my strength. “Everything I’ve exposed is what you both earned.” Harry’s brow furrowed into a deep scowl. “Fine. Don’t regret this.” They quickly released a statement: [The university has re-audited the application, and Sierra Wells’s Ph.D. fellowship is legitimate and without issue.] Then, someone posing as a witness released a silent video clip of Sierra kneeling in front of me. [I’m in their class. Eliza has always been jealous of how pretty Sierra is and her academic success, so she’s been bullying her for a long time.] [She dares to make her kneel in front of Harry. Imagine how she abuses her in private.] [She’s been obsessed with Harry forever. When the news about him and Sierra broke, she got so angry she actually claimed her own mother died, just to make him feel guilty for ignoring her.] The topic shot up the trending list, and no one cared about the fellowship fraud anymore. They framed the entire event as my jealousy and bullying. The online outrage was relentless: [You cursed your mom to die? Hope it comes true. You should join her.] [The way you bully her is disgusting, miss. You’ll never land a good man like Harry Shaw.] [How dare you abuse Sierra? Harry was merciful not to kick you to death.] Someone dug up an old photo of my mother and photoshopped a funeral portrait for both of us, spreading it across social media. The torrent of pure malice made my body ice cold, trembling with rage. I thought of the note my mother had left me. The one with the address. With things escalating this quickly, my only hope was to go to Boston and find Uncle Leo.

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Under a TikTok video of me looking fabulous, I saw a girl tag her boyfriend. [Move over everyone, my man loves this type, let him see first!] I clicked on her profile and froze. It was the girl who bullied me relentlessly in high school. I’d recognize that face even if it were turned to ash. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I went through every single one of her videos, then clicked on the boyfriend she’d tagged. I sent him a DM. [You there?] 01 Before seeing Chloe again, I’d imagined countless times what she would be like now. I thought bad people would get their karma, that she’d be living a miserable, poverty-stricken life. But no. In the videos she posted, she was at a $5,000-a-night hotel in the Maldives one day, seeing the aurora in Iceland the next, and then driving a convertible into the sunset on the West Coast. In her most recent photo, she was sitting in a black Rolls-Royce, wearing a Chanel suit, smiling brightly at the camera, not a care in the world. She seemed to be living a truly great life. But why? I stared at her smiling face on the phone screen. Slowly, that smiling face turned into her in her school uniform, laughing while slapping me, over and over again. When her hand hurt, she let the people behind her take over. She laughed from the side, pointing a camera at my swollen, bleeding face: “Smile, Lee. Don’t you love being a little slut? Why aren’t you smiling anymore?!” She grabbed my hair forcefully, her smile widening: “Smile!” Chloe’s malice towards me started when the boy she liked gave me a birthday gift. On my birthday, he gave me a bag. I heard his mom brought it back from Paris, worth over $3,000. I was scared stiff and refused to take it. In a fit of pique, he threw the bag at me, saying he’d just trash it if I didn’t want it. While I was holding the bag, at a loss for what to do, Chloe walked in. She snatched the bag away, looked at it for a while, and suddenly smiled. But that smile was twisted, making me shudder. “I begged him for this bag for three months and he wouldn’t give it to me. I didn’t expect he wanted to give it to you.” She looked up at me, a look that made my hair stand on end: “Lee, you’re quite capable.” From that moment on, Chloe started targeting me constantly. The thing I feared most every day was school ending, because I never knew when she and her clique would corner me in the bathroom, followed by beatings and humiliation. During that time, I lived in fear every day and had nightmares every night, but I didn’t dare tell anyone. My parents divorced when I was young, and both had new families. Only my grandma, who had a limp, was willing to take me in. She ran a small deli, working from dawn till dusk selling sandwiches to support my schooling. I was one of the few students in that private school who was admitted on a full scholarship because of excellent grades. I didn’t dare tell the teachers because Chloe threatened me with my grandma. And I knew the school would turn a blind eye to Chloe, whose family had power and influence. I could only study harder, thinking about testing out early and leaving this place. But even that little hope didn’t materialize in the end. The night before the SATs, Chloe locked me in the bathroom again. This time, she had people strip me and take photos. I was locked in the bathroom all night and couldn’t leave, so I didn’t know that those photos appeared in various local group chats that very night. I also didn’t know that Chloe deliberately had someone go to my grandma’s store and show her the photos. Grandma was anxious because she couldn’t find me at home, so she limped her way to the school to look for me. Then, because she was too anxious and didn’t look carefully when crossing the street, she was hit and run over by a semi-truck driven by a drowsy driver. She died on the spot. I only found out the news the next morning when the janitor let me out. I saw stars, my head was spinning, and my mind went blank as I lay on the floor. When I woke up, I was already in the hospital. In one day, I lost the chance to change my destiny through the SATs, and my grandma, who was my only family. I hardly remember anything about what happened after that day. Probably because the physical pain was too great, my body turned on a self-protection mechanism and sealed away that memory. I only remember a teacher coming to see me. I heard her saying regretfully to others in the hallway: “She was ivy league material. What a pity.” Nothing happened to Chloe. She was just called to the principal’s office and criticized. Because her dad was a famous local entrepreneur and a major taxpayer, the principal didn’t dare offend him. I used the last bit of money my family had to handle grandma’s funeral. I didn’t have money to repeat the year, so I could only find a factory job to support myself. Chloe, on the other hand, was sent to a university in California and started her wonderful life. …… I sat on the bed. The lights were off in the bedroom, and I just stared blankly at the dark ceiling like this. During the hardest years, I often stared blankly like this. Actually, life got much better later. After I made money, I took adult education courses, saved some money, and opened my own online women’s clothing store. I was my own model. Fortunately, I was good-looking and caught the trend. Business got bigger and bigger over time, and now I’m financially free. I thought I had forgotten the past. I thought I could start a new life. But the moment I saw Chloe’s face, I suddenly realized that I had never let it go. I hated her, hated her to death. I sat there until dawn, my slightly stiff fingers finally clicking on the account she tagged. It was a male profile with just a few simple lines, no videos posted. But I quickly found out his identity. Nate Quinn, Chloe’s fiancé. The Gu family nearly went bankrupt when she was in college, and finally came back to life through marriage. The Quinn family was the big tree the Gu family leaned on. It was also the guarantee that Chloe could live such a privileged life now. Chloe didn’t remember me anymore. It’s funny to say, she personally pushed me into hell. Her smiling face was in every one of my nightmares, but she didn’t remember me anymore, and even tagged Nate in my comment section to see. I clicked on the chat icon next to Nate’s profile picture, thought for a moment, and sent him a DM. [You there?] 02 Three days later, I opened Nate’s chat box for the umpteenth time. He still hadn’t replied. I wasn’t surprised. Judging from the information I’d collected these days, Nate was pretty clean in terms of relationships. Chloe tagging him should just be a casual joke. She knew Nate wouldn’t be interested. It’s strange to say, he’s the heir to the Quinn family. Judging from the videos and photos found, he’s at least 6’2″. Thanks to his celebrity mom, he also has a face that could debut right away. Such a standard rich, tall, handsome guy, his favorite activity isn’t picking up girls, playing with cars, or showing off wealth, but fishing. Yeah, like an old man, finding a seaside or pond, setting up a fishing rod, and fishing all day. Seeing that online DMing wasn’t going to work on him, I checked a lot of information about him, and even followed him downstairs at his company. Nate’s life is very regular. Two points and one line every day, and then he will take out one day every weekend specifically to go fishing. After figuring out his off-work time, I drove my car behind him. After a red light, I cut in behind his car and slammed right into it! With a “bang”, the car in front stopped. Then Nate, dressed in a suit, walked down with a frown and tapped on my car window. I smoothed my hair and glanced at the rearview mirror out of the corner of my eye. I specially hired a makeup artist with a five-figure price tag to apply makeup, ensuring every eyelash was exquisite while not looking too made-up. Sure enough, when I opened the car door, Nate’s furrowed brows relaxed a bit. Chloe must know that Nate likes my type to tag him. He might not be interested just because of a face, but at least he wouldn’t feel disgusted with me. I looked up, revealing a perfectly angled face of 45 degrees, apologizing in a panic: “Sorry, I’m a new driver. I was too anxious just now and didn’t react. Are you okay?” Nate shook his head, walked to the back of the car and took a look: “It’s not very serious. Let’s drive away first and don’t block the road here. We’ll go through insurance directly later.” I nodded, and the two of us stood by the roadside like this, waiting for the insurance company people to come and finish the whole process. Then I naturally took out my phone, opened the QR code and handed it to him: “Let’s add WeChat. Contact me if there’s anything.” My attitude was too natural, not giving him a chance to refuse. Nate paused, took out his phone and scanned me. “I’m really sorry today. Let me treat you to a meal some other day?” I looked up at him. “No need. Insurance is done. Contact me on WeChat if there’s anything.” He refused me as I expected, got in the car and left. I watched his car merge into the traffic flow, clenched my phone, and a smile appeared at the corner of my mouth. Today’s goal has been achieved. I didn’t expect to get close to Nate so quickly. Getting his contact information is already a success. I like people who are challenging. If he takes the bait too quickly, it wouldn’t be fun. I found all of Chloe’s social media accounts. She seems to really like Nate. Almost nine out of ten posts are about Nate. She’s obviously obsessed with him. The Gu family has shown more and more signs of decline in recent years. If it weren’t for the capital injection from the Quinn family to support it, it would probably have gone bankrupt long ago. Chloe. I’d like to see if she can still live so comfortably without Nate. If God doesn’t give her retribution, I’ll come myself. 03 I studied Nate’s Moments overnight. He’s really a person with a very simple life. Almost no updates. He only shows off in his Moments when he catches a fish. I didn’t actively chat with him, just posted a photo in my Moments after a few days. The ripples in the dark pool water were blown up by the wind. I held a big silver carp and pursed my lips at the camera. [Another day without coming up empty-handed!] I waited for a week. Nate didn’t like or comment. But he didn’t post to Moments this week either, obviously didn’t go fishing. In the second week, I continued posting. Still silver carp, still that deep pool, just that the fish this time was a circle bigger, weighing four or five pounds. [Big fish!] He still didn’t reply. In the third week I continued. [Can’t catch ’em all, literally can’t catch ’em all.] Then I went to apply a face mask and sleep. I turned on my phone early the next morning. Among the dozens of like avatars, I finally saw the one I was waiting for. Nate commented: [May I ask where this is?] I looked at the phone and curled the corners of my mouth. Hooked. 04 When I saw Nate again, he was obviously more talkative. “Is the fishing spot you mentioned really have that many fish?” I looked him over discreetly. He was wearing a black hoodie and gray sweatpants. His black hair wasn’t slicked back with hair gel, but scattered naturally on his forehead. When talking about things he was interested in, his eyes opened slightly and shone brightly. He didn’t look like the indifferent and noble person in financial magazines at all, but more like a young man in his early twenties. I nodded: “You’ll know when you go. I haven’t come up empty-handed many times I’ve been there.” Actually, I didn’t know how to fish at all. I frantically caught up on knowledge these days just to catch Nate, this fish. This fishing spot was also discovered by me after inquiring from countless people and wandering around the mountains by myself. Nate, on the other hand, when fishing was mentioned, obviously talked a lot more. When he got excited, he showed me videos of him fishing for catfish in the Amazon River. I was amazed again and again, and then showed him photos of me fishing for tuna out at sea. His eyes lit up, and then he felt a bit regretful: “I wanted to go fishing for tuna before too, but I’ve been too busy and haven’t had the chance.” He looked up at me and looked straight at me for the first time: “I didn’t expect you to like fishing so much too. Girls who love fishing are really rare.” We talked more and more, starting to talk about sports, favorite music, movies and books. Then he was surprised to find that we actually have quite a few common hobbies. We both like skiing, both like Mishima Yukio’s “Afternoon Towing”, both like listening to Koji Tamaki, and we can also understand each other’s preferences in places where we differ occasionally. When we finally recovered, we realized that we had chatted for a whole afternoon, and it was getting dark. After that, we often went fishing and chatted together, and we even raised a little wild cat together. This yellow kitten was only a few months old. Every time we went fishing, it would obediently lie aside waiting to eat fish. Sometimes when we both didn’t catch a fish, it would anxiously meow to urge us. I named it Nian Nian, meaning having abundance every year. Every time I went, I would kiss and hug it. Nate wasn’t so interested in it. Every time Nian Nian went to rub against him, he would avoid it. He’s a bit of a germaphobe and dislikes cat hair sticking to him. That night, Nate asked me for the first time when parting: “When will you come next time?” I thought for a moment: “Work is busy recently, hard to say.” A trace of disappointment that was hard to detect flashed across his eyes, but he still nodded politely and didn’t say much. I didn’t go for the next week. It wasn’t until the second week that I arrived late. Seeing me again, Nate didn’t show it on his face, but quickly moved his chair towards me. “Where have you been these days? Why haven’t you come fishing?” I walked over and touched Nian Nian lying on the ground. It stretched its body on the ground. Its little belly was bulging and it had gained a lot of weight. Its fur was sleek and smooth. It looked well cared for. “Have you been feeding it these days?” Nate raised his chin reservedly, his tone carrying a hint of blame: “You insisted on naming it, but haven’t cared for it these days.” He soon became a bit proud again: “Of course I took care of it. I come to fish for it to eat every day.” Nian Nian walked over and rubbed against his leg. Nate frowned, disdaining verbally: “Can you stay away from me? Every time you rub hair all over me.” But his hand picked it up familiarly and put it on his lap. Nian Nian laid comfortably on him. His black jacket was immediately covered in cat hair, but he didn’t mind. Instead, he scratched its chin with ease. I watched from the side and made a conclusion in my heart. Turns out he’s a tsundere. I secretly laughed inwardly and sat aside to hold the fishing rod, but accidentally got my hand pricked by the fish hook. I hissed and squeezed my finger. A drop of bright red blood emerged. Nate immediately put Nian Nian down, took out a Band-Aid from the box on the side, and walked over frowning. “Why so careless.” I wanted to take the Band-Aid, but he naturally said: “Hand.” “You’re quite prepared——” I looked up with a smile, but swallowed the rest of the words when I ran into his line of sight. Too close. Unknowingly, we seemed to be too close. The bright orange setting sun in the mountains gradually dyed blue and dimmed. The wind was trapped in the valley, bringing up moist water vapor. I could smell the faint woody scent on Nate. I didn’t know if it was perfume or aftershave. His pupils were lighter than average people, with a kind of inorganic coldness and clarity. At this moment, however, they reflected me completely. The wind blew my hair across his face. He just looked at me blankly like this until Nian Nian meowed impatiently from the side. We both recovered at the same time and suddenly took a step back respectively. Nate quickly turned his head with his back to me, squatting down and stroking Nian Nian’s back: “Fish. It’s starving.” I burst out laughing. In the dim light, his ears turned red inconspicuously. He sat aside fishing without speaking. However, Nate, who usually had great patience, fidgeted all evening tonight and didn’t catch a single fish all night. From that day on, there seemed to be a tacit understanding between us. When he came fishing, he would always ask me to come along. We went out at least twice a week. Sometimes it was in desolate mountains, sometimes it was on the boundless sea, sometimes it was at a fishing farm he rented out. However, every time there were only the two of us. During this period, I kept paying attention to Chloe’s Weibo. Her posts showing off her relationship became fewer and fewer, and in the end, she hadn’t posted a single one for several days. I watched coldly, and then met her boyfriend in my best condition with the most exquisite makeup during the day. This kind of relationship, where both knew it clearly but pretended to be confused, fermented for two months before I felt the time had come. That night, when he was holding Nian Nian, I suddenly asked: “Nate, do you have a girlfriend?”

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Chapter 1 The year I applied to the Fortune 500 company my father ran, a new hiring policy was suddenly implemented: all applicants needed a score of 700 on the Corporate Aptitude Test. I scored a 699. I was rejected. A year later, my adopted sister, Bella, made the cut. At her celebration party, Uncle Jerry, a little tipsy, slapped my father on the shoulder. “You really spoil your girl, Robert. You knew Bella didn’t hit the 700 mark, so you just scrapped that requirement entirely.” I froze, then forced a smile. “That can’t be true, Uncle Jerry. When I took the test last year, I got a 699, and Dad didn’t pull any strings for me. Bella must have gotten in on her own merit.” “Impossible,” Uncle Jerry slurred, his face flushed with bourbon. “That 700-point rule? Your dad specifically asked for it to be added last year.” I turned to look at my father, shock written all over my face. Dad coughed awkwardly, adjusting his tie. “Harper, we’re father and daughter. I have to avoid the appearance of nepotism. Bella is adopted; if she didn’t get in, people would say we treat her like an outsider. Besides, Bella worked hard for months. She deserves a good result.” My smile turned bitter. Right. Since you care so much about optics and rules. Then when I run the tax audit at the end of the year… I won’t leave any room for mercy. … The dinner table fell into a dead silence. Uncle Jerry seemed to realize he’d spilled a family secret. He laughed nervously. “I’m just talking nonsense, too much wine. Harper, don’t take it to heart.” I pushed his hand away and stared dead at my father at the head of the table. “So, the rule added last year… you really put that there just for me?” Dad didn’t speak. Mom tugged at my sleeve. “Harper, don’t fight with your father.” I shook her off. “Why? I scored 699, and you set the bar at 700. Did you want to keep me out that badly?” “I told you, I had to avoid conflicts of interest! You are my biological daughter! If I hired you, what would the board think?” I looked at him in disbelief. “Dad, ‘avoiding conflicts of interest’ means not using your power to give family an unfair advantage. I would have accepted it if I simply wasn’t good enough. “But I was first in the written exam and the interview. What conflict is there? “Meanwhile, Bella didn’t even crack 600, and you just deleted the rule for her. Who exactly are you showing favoritism to?” Smash! A glass shattered against my forehead. Dad stood up, furious. “You’re getting bold, aren’t you?” Guests rushed to hold us back. Bella stood there, eyes red and teary. “Harper, don’t upset Dad! Apologize to him, please!” “Look at Bella, then look at yourself!” Dad frowned, pointing a shaking finger at me. “Bella worked hard for three whole months. Why doesn’t she deserve a win? Everyone knows she’s the daughter of my late partner. If I don’t help her, people will say the Sterling family is heartless! Why can’t you think about the family for once instead of your own selfish interests?” “Selfish interests?” I laughed, wiping a trickle of blood from my brow. “Dad, I prepared for a whole year. Who gave me a win?” Dad paused. I let out a hollow laugh. “Dad, do you know that because you blocked me, Liam and I broke up?” Dad’s brow furrowed. “We dated for three years. We planned to introduce our families the day I got the offer. But he got in, and I didn’t. He moved to headquarters, I stayed behind. The long distance killed us. Are you happy now?” I threw my own glass to the floor. It shattered, shards flying everywhere. Bella rushed to shield Dad. “Harper, what are you doing?!” Mom tried to pull me back. I just stared at him with red-rimmed eyes. Bella suddenly threw herself at me. “Harper, I won’t join Dad’s company! I’ll give it up! Please don’t blame Dad for this. It’s my fault! I’ll beg you!” She actually dropped to her knees, looking ready to prostrate herself. Dad grabbed her arm, pulling her up. “Why should you give it up? You’re taking the job! You worked for it! Why should her tantrum ruin your future?” “No, Dad, I can’t let this family fall apart because of me!” Mom and Dad looked at her with heartbreak in their eyes. Then Dad looked at me with disgust. “Look how sensible Bella is. Then look at you. You don’t understand the simplest things. How can your mother and I rely on you in the future?” “Rely on me?” I laughed. “Since you all think Bella is the sensible one, why do you need me? From now on, let her be your daughter.” I slammed the door and walked out. Chapter 2 Behind me, I heard Mom and the relatives chasing after me. I walked fast, slipping into the elevator and hitting the button before they could reach me. From the private room down the hall, I heard the sound of Dad smashing more plates. “Let her go! Let’s see how long she can keep up this act!” The elevator descended. My eyes burned with unshed tears. Walking out of the hotel, the digital billboard at the entrance was plastered with a massive congratulatory message: [Congratulations to the Sterling Family Heiress for Top Interview Scores!] The Sterling Heiress… I zoned out for a moment. A waiter accidentally bumped into me, snapping me back to reality. “I’m so sorry, Miss! The guests in Room 606 just ordered another massive cake for their daughter. They requested the head pastry chef for the decorations.” Room 606. That was Bella’s party. “Why did they order another one?” “Heard some crazy person ruined the first one. The father is furious and wants to throw an even bigger celebration to make up for it. Apparently, his daughter just got into a massive conglomerate. Very impressive stuff.” I smiled bitterly. I actually had taken the civil service exam. I got into the IRS. The Internal Revenue Service. But from start to finish, my family only cared about Bella’s results. Not a single person asked if I passed, or where I was working. I went back to my apartment. I spent the next day in a daze. That night, Bella updated her social media. It was a video. Dad, Mom, and Bella, surrounded by relatives, posing in front of a giant cake. She made a peace sign, looking like the happiest girl in the world. Caption: [Thank you Mom and Dad for always standing behind me when I need you.] I turned off my phone. I didn’t go home that weekend. Usually, I went back every Sunday for dinner. This time, I drove to the University district. This was where I met Liam. Three years of college. We had planned our entire future. Where to buy a house, when to have kids, where to retire. I calculated everything, except that I would be rejected from the company while he got in. A month later, he asked to break up. Reason: He couldn’t handle a long-distance relationship. I was heartbroken, but I accepted it. Retracing my steps, I walked into the bistro Liam and I used to love. As soon as I sat down, a couple across the room caught my eye. The man’s voice was painfully familiar. “I used to eat here all the time in college. The fish is amazing. Try it.” “All the time? With who?” The girl’s voice was playful, slightly jealous. The man laughed. I froze, disbelief coloring my voice. “Liam?” The man stiffened. He slowly turned around and locked eyes with me. Sitting opposite him, Bella looked at me in shock. “Harper?” Chapter 3 “Babe, give me a second.” Liam gave Bella a gentle smile. He turned, grabbed my arm, and dragged me outside the restaurant. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I met her after we broke up.” “Bullshit!” My eyes stung. “I know she started seeing someone this time last year. We hadn’t broken up yet! You were together then, weren’t you?” His face went pale. I stepped closer, pressing him. “Liam, did we really break up because of the distance?” “I…” “You know you can’t lie to me.” He grit his teeth. Then nodded. “Yes. I cheated. So what?” I didn’t expect him to admit it so bluntly. “Harper, my parents are blue-collar workers. Getting me through college wasn’t easy. I fought tooth and nail to get to New York.” “Any opportunity I see, I have to grab it with both hands.” I frowned. “What are you talking about?” He sighed. “Actually, I missed the cutoff score for the interview. Bella talked to her father—the Division CEO—and got me in.” I thought I misheard. “Her father? Are you sure it was her father, Robert Sterling?” “Yeah.” I nearly lost my balance. My own biological father added a clause to kick me out. But with one word from Bella, an outsider my father had never even met could be hired as an exception. Me, the real daughter, was the actual outsider. First step to success: cut off the girlfriend. I bit my lip, holding back tears. “Liam, I never thought you were this kind of person.” “Don’t stand there and judge me.” He frowned, defensive. “You have no idea how much bitterness I swallowed to get to this position! Sure, I could have stayed with you. But if another woman can help me jump social classes and secure my future, why shouldn’t I choose her?” “If you really loved me, why would you stop me from choosing a better life?” “Besides, Harper, if the same opportunity was in front of you, you would have dumped me even faster. Don’t deny it.” I looked at him, stunned. He sighed. “So, don’t blame me for letting you down. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for not being good enough to get into Vance Global. Blame yourself for not having Bella’s background or a father like Robert Sterling.” I paused. “You don’t know who my father is?” “Does it matter?” “What if… my father is Robert Sterling too?” He froze. Then he laughed. “If you were Robert Sterling’s daughter, why couldn’t you get into the company?” I was speechless. “Liam.” Bella’s voice rang out. She walked up, looking concerned, and looped her arm through Liam’s. “Is there a misunderstanding?” “It’s nothing. Just a junior from college who used to be obsessed with me.” Liam glanced at me one last time. He pulled Bella close and walked away without looking back. As they turned, Bella glanced over her shoulder. The corner of her mouth curled into a smirk. My phone rang. I answered it numbly. It was Mom. “Harper, it’s Sunday. Are you still throwing a tantrum? Dad is angry. Be a good girl and come home.” “I’m not throwing a tantrum.” I hung up. I dialed another number. “Agent Zhao. The tax audit on Vance Global’s subsidiary… that’s assigned to us, right?” “Yes, Chief Vance.” “Robert Sterling just hired a new protégé. Focus on him. And check the subsidiary’s accounts.” “Understood.” For the next few days, I buried myself in work. I ignored every call from home. Until one evening after work, I was blocked near my office. Mom got out of the car. “Harper, finally. Your dad is waiting at home. Stop this. You haven’t been back in a month. We’re a family, there’s nothing we can’t talk out.” I wanted to refuse. But I saw my supervisor’s car in the parking lot. I didn’t want to make a scene. I gritted my teeth and got in. The door opened. Bella was pouring tea for Dad. Dad looked up from the head of the table, frowning deeply. “You finally decided to show up.” Chapter 4 “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go back to work.” I turned to leave. Mom blocked my path. Dad was furious. “What work could you possibly have?” “My job.” “Job?” He sneered. “A job you found yourself, making three grand a month? Is that worth killing yourself over? Without my support, what kind of ‘good job’ could you possibly get?” “Support?” I scoffed. “Mr. Sterling, growing up, what exactly did you support me with?” He froze. “Other fathers, even if they have nothing, wouldn’t dream of stealing opportunities from their own daughters. But you, Mr. Sterling? You’re different.” “Even when your daughter earns it herself, you have to strike her down. Support? Your support all went to an outsider. When did I ever see a dime of it?” “Since you’re holding things over my head that you never gave me, what right do you have to threaten me?” “You!” Dad stood up abruptly. Bella rushed over and grabbed my hand. “Harper! How can you talk to Dad like that! Apologize! No matter what, he’s our father!” Dad clutched his chest, pointing a trembling finger at me. “See? This is exactly why I help Bella and not you!” Mom rubbed his back, looking at me with disappointment. “Harper, we brought you home to talk, not to fight. Look at Bella. Can’t you be a little more sensible? Apologize!” I shook off Bella’s hand. “I’m not sensible. Bella is sensible enough for both of us. You never treated me like a daughter anyway.” “How can you say that?” “Am I wrong?” I stared directly at my father. He smashed a teacup at my feet. “Fine! Get out! Let’s see how you survive in this city without my help! Get out!!” Bella reached out as if to stop me, but her hand barely grazed my sleeve—a calculated miss. “Sister, don’t leave angry! Just say sorry!” “Bella, let her go! Ungrateful brat! When she hits a wall, she’ll realize how wrong she was!” Even though I had steeled myself, hearing my own parents blatantly favor her made my eyes sting. I wiped them quickly, hailed a cab, and left. On my desk lay the intelligence Agent Zhao had gathered. I flipped through it. I placed it back on the desk coldly. “I knew it. Bella isn’t clean.” At the end of the year, the IRS audit vehicles pulled up to the Vance Global subsidiary. We walked straight into Bella’s office. “Auditing me?” Hearing our purpose, she sneered. “Do you know who I am? Who gave you the order?” “I did.” Bella’s face went pale. The agents stepped aside. I walked through the gap. I held up my badge. “IRS Criminal Investigation Division. Harper Vance. We found evidence of tax evasion. Please cooperate with the investigation.”

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The possessive paranoia from my online boyfriend was finally too much. I blocked him, deleted the chat, and tossed my phone onto the bed. Barely a minute passed before my bedroom door was pounded on. Asher Reed, my stepbrother—the guy who usually acted like I was part of the furniture, or worse, a stain—stood in the doorway, his face dark with a furious anxiety I’d never seen. His voice was raw, a desperate mess. “Tell me how to apologize to a girl.” “My girlfriend won’t answer my calls.” I blinked, taking a small step back. I glanced down at my phone on the bed. Wait a minute. Wasn’t that my online burner account? My brain flatlined. The clingy, whiny, controlling guy who called me ‘baby’ and sent me gifts—the one I’d just deleted in a fit of rage—was Asher? The ceiling was coming down. 1 The online lunatic I’d personally blocked a minute ago was standing right in front of me, radiating pure, murderous tension. “Talk,” Asher snapped, his tone laced with impatience. “Are you mute?” I swallowed hard. “Is this your… girlfriend?” Asher impatiently ran a hand through his perfectly styled dark hair. “Just started dating. I asked her who she was playing games with, and she blocked me. Just like that.” He glared at me. “You’re a girl. What does she want? What is that supposed to mean?” I edged back, trying to put more space between us. “Maybe… she felt like you were being too much of a psycho?” I offered gently. “Too much?” Asher let out a cold, humorless laugh. That face, the one that made every girl in our high school swoon, was twisted into a dark, menacing sneer. “I’m her boyfriend. I’m not allowed to ask a single question?” “Are all girls this high-maintenance now?” My mouth twitched. Who was it that sent dozens of texts morning, noon, and night? Who was it that frantically audio-called if I didn’t reply in five minutes? Who was it that had a meltdown because I had a male teammate in one of my casual mobile games? I didn’t dare say any of that. I had to play the idiot. “…Bro, are you… really into her?” Asher paused. A flicker of awkwardness crossed his face. Even his ears turned a suspicious, faint pink. But he quickly hardened his expression, glaring at me with malice. “None of your damn business.” “Sloan, don’t think that just because I’m asking for your help, you suddenly get to act like my sister.” He jabbed a finger in the air between us. “In this house, you’re still just an outsider.” Everyone knew Asher hated me. The day my mother and I moved in, he’d kicked my suitcase down the stairs. He’d pointed a finger right at my nose and yelled, “Take your trash and get out.” “I have one mother, and she’s dead.” “You and your gold-digger mom don’t deserve to set foot in a Reed house.” In the years since, he’d stopped the physical assaults, but the cold war never ended. And yet, here he was. Begging me for help with an online girl. “Then don’t ask me,” I took a deep breath, reaching for the door. “I’m an outsider. I have no right to manage your affairs.” A hand slammed flat against the door frame, stopping me. The veins on Asher’s hand stood out, blue and bulging. He stared at me, his teeth gritted. “Sloan, don’t push your luck.” “I’ve asked everyone I know. Nobody understands how to handle a girl who’s got a temper, a wild streak, and blocks you without a word…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. I almost laughed out loud. That was my burnout account, the one I used to vent and be as toxic as possible! And he actually liked that version of me? “I don’t know either.” I shoved the door again. “Go ask someone else.” Asher didn’t move. Suddenly, he pulled a credit card from his jeans pocket. “There’s five thousand on this.” Asher looked down at me, the arrogance returning to his eyes. “Get her to unblock me. The money’s yours.” “I know you need cash. Didn’t your pathetic biological father just track you down looking for support payments?” I snapped my head up. He investigated me? He knew about my gambling-addict dad hitting me up for money? “Take the cash, do the job.” Asher turned to leave, tossing one last icy sentence over his shoulder. “I want her to add me back tonight. If you fail, you can pack your bags and get out of this house.” 2 Five thousand dollars was a massive amount of money to me, but all I felt was a knot of sickness in my stomach. Asher was always like this. He liked to use money to humiliate people. He loved to control everything from his high perch. Just like he did online. Baby, I bought you this new skin. Baby, sending you two hundred. Go get something good to eat. Baby, you can’t talk to anyone else. It makes me jealous. It wasn’t love. It was just his unchecked control finding a safe, digital outlet. I went back to my room and locked the door. I pulled out my burner phone, logging into the account named “WildRose.” In the block list, there was Asher’s main account. The profile picture was jet black, the username a single, cold “A.” Simple. Aloof. Trying too hard. Who would ever guess that behind that account was a frantic mess who hammered on my door because of a block? I opened his profile. The personal motto: Only Rose. My hand shook, and the phone almost slipped. When did he change that? The disparity was sickening. I pulled his contact out of the block list. Almost instantly. The message bombardment began. Baby! You finally answered me! I’m sorry, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have asked who you were playing with, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Don’t leave me. You’re all I have. Could these pathetic pleas really have been typed by Asher Reed? I took a deep breath, typing my reply: We aren’t a good fit. You’re too extreme. I can’t handle it. Silence for a few seconds. Then, “A is typing…” He typed for a long time. Finally, one message came through: I’ll change. Anything. Just don’t break up with me. I’ll change anything. Please. In my entire memory, Asher had never begged anyone for anything. Even when his father cut off his credit cards, forcing him to grovel to his stepmother, he’d simply stiffened his neck and starved for three days without a word. Now, he was pleading for an online stranger? Footsteps suddenly approached the door. Then, Asher’s voice, cold and hard as iron, cut through the wood. “Sloan. Dinner. Don’t keep Mom and Dad waiting.” I jumped, quickly shoving the burner phone deep into my pocket. I opened the door. Asher had changed clothes. A crisp white button-down, black slacks, his hair perfectly combed. The aloof prince, untouchable. He didn’t even glance at me, turning and heading downstairs. In the dining room, Mr. Reed and my mother were already seated. The atmosphere was tight. Asher pulled out his chair and sat down with practiced elegance. I silently sat across from him, head down, pushing rice around my plate. “Asher, how’s the preparation for the regional physics competition going?” Mr. Reed asked, breaking the silence. “It’s fine.” Asher was curt. “Good. You have to win the gold medal this time. Don’t embarrass your mother.” Asher’s hand, holding his chopsticks, froze. “Got it.” His voice instantly chilled by several degrees. My mom quickly tried to smooth things over. “Asher is always excellent, I’m sure he’ll do fine. It’s Sloan, on the other hand…” She glanced at me, hesitating. Asher suddenly scoffed. “A girl who scores thirty percent on a physics exam? What’s there to even say?” “Mush for brains, probably.” I clenched my chopsticks, my knuckles white. “Asher!” Mr. Reed snapped. “Watch your language.” “Just stating a fact.” Asher nonchalantly picked up a piece of pork chop. “Some people are just born failures.” “No matter how hard they try, they’re just wasting resources.” My face felt hot. This was my weak point. The easy weapon he always used to humiliate me. Just then, the burner phone in my pocket vibrated. Asher picked up his own phone and began typing furiously. He ignored his dinner completely. A sudden, sharp impulse took over. I slipped my hand into my pocket and blind-typed a line of text, sending it. You’re truly annoying. Asher’s movements froze. He stared down at his screen, his face turning an ashen white. I watched him. Watching that look of utter devastation, as if the whole world had just abandoned him, a surge of twisted satisfaction rushed through me. Asher. You finally got what was coming to you. 3 Asher gripped his phone so tightly I thought the case would crack. Mr. Reed frowned. “What’s with the phone at the table? Did you forget your manners?” Asher suddenly stood up. “I’m full.” He turned, clutched the phone, and bolted up the stairs without looking back. “What the hell is wrong with that boy?” Mr. Reed slammed his chopsticks on the table. My mom offered an awkward smile. “Maybe… the competition is stressing him out.” I lowered my head and sipped my soup, hiding the smirk at the corner of my mouth. Back in my room, I pulled out the burner phone. The screen was full of messages Asher had sent. I won’t annoy you anymore. I’ll shut up. Just don’t be mad. Anything. Just don’t block me again. Baby… The last one was a 60-second voice message. I put on my headphones and pressed play. After a moment of static, I heard Asher’s low, ragged breathing. “I’m sorry…” His voice was hoarse, trembling noticeably. “I honestly don’t know what to do.” “I’ve never liked anyone before. You’re the first.” “I’m scared you’ll think I’m pathetic, scared you’ll think I’m boring, scared you’ll go find someone else…” “I only have the guts to tell you this online.” “In real life… things are bad.” “No one likes me. I hate everyone. Only you, Rose. Only you listen to me and play games with me.” “Please, don’t leave me, okay?” My scalp prickled. Was this really Asher? I could picture him hiding in his room, recording this voice note with red eyes. It was ridiculous. I took off the headphones, unable to listen anymore. Just then, there was a knock at my door. I walked over and opened it. Asher stood in the hallway shadow. He was looking down, his fringe covering his eyes, making his expression unreadable. Most of his anger was gone, replaced by a defeated, powerless slump. “What is it?” I asked coldly. He lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he’d been crying. But the moment he saw me, he snapped back to his usual icy, deadpan mask. The speed was startling. “You took the money.” His voice was hoarse. “Have you figured out a solution?” I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “I have.” “What?” He urgently stepped closer. “Break up with her,” I said. “If it’s this painful, just let each other go.” Asher’s face instantly darkened. The fleeting vulnerability vanished, replaced by a terrifying rage. He grabbed my collar and shoved me hard against the doorframe. “Sloan, are you trying to get yourself killed?” “I told you to figure out how to get her back, not convince me to break up!” “Break up? Never in this lifetime!” He was yelling, his voice loud. His eyes were veined with red. I was choking, desperately batting at his hand. “Cough… Let go…” Asher abruptly released me. I clutched my neck, coughing violently. He looked down at me, his eyes cold as ice. “Don’t let me hear those two words again.” “Or I’ll make sure you can’t stay in this house.” With that, he turned and went back into his room, slamming the door shut. The enormous sound shook the wall. Leaning against the wall, gasping for air, I reached for my burner phone without a second thought, typing out one last message: We’re breaking up. This time it’s for good. Send. The next second, a massive crash came from the room next door, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Then, Asher’s heart-wrenching scream. “Ah—!”

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Lisa was on speaker with a rich guy, her fake laugh filling our dorm. “Ugh, that broke loser Jake is waiting downstairs again,” she said, glancing at me. “Ava, tell him I’m sick.” I looked outside. To everyone, he was just a poor transfer student. But I knew the truth. Last month, while working at the exclusive Azure Crest club, I saw him leave a VIP suite surrounded by powerful people, with the owner bowing to him. I threw on a thin white tee—one that turned sheer in the rain—grabbed an umbrella, and went down. The downpour soaked the shirt, clinging to my skin. I held the umbrella over Jake. “Lisa wants you to leave,” I said softly. His eyes lowered, lingering, and his throat moved. “Who are you?” “Ava, her roommate.” That night, Lisa went to a hotel with her rich date. I took Jake back to my apartment. 1 I shifted, my body aching with a dull, satisfying soreness. Jake had his back to me, pulling on a pair of faded, worn-out jeans. “You’re awake?” he said, turning around. His gaze rested for a moment on my exposed collarbone, and a playful smirk touched his lips. “Last night was… impressive.” Heat flooded my cheeks, and I quickly looked down, flustered. He walked over to the bed and pulled a heavy, ornate signet ring from his pocket. “I don’t have any cash on me. Take this instead.” He tossed it onto the sheets. “It’s a family heirloom, but it’s a fake. Not worth anything. Just a keepsake for you.” I’d seen a similar ring once, at the club. A mining tycoon, drunk and boastful, had slammed it on the table, bragging it was a 19th-century antique from a defunct European royal line. He claimed it was worth more than a downtown penthouse. Idiot, I thought. He’s really committed to this broke-boy act. As if I’ve never seen real luxury before. I pushed the ring back toward him. “No, I can’t take this.” I looked up, letting my eyes well up with tears. “What kind of girl do you think I am?” Jake raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “I told you, it’s worthless. Just something to remember me by.” “It’s your family’s. Even if it’s a fake, it must be important to you.” I took his hand and pressed the ring firmly back into his palm. He stared into my eyes for a long moment, then let out a soft chuckle and pocketed the ring. “Alright. Ava, right? I’ll remember that.” When I got back to the dorm, Lisa was sitting at her vanity, applying a slash of red lipstick. A brand-new Chanel bag sat beside her. “Well, look who’s back,” she said, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. I ignored her and started gathering my things. Seeing that I wasn’t taking the bait, she crossed her arms and studied me. “Ava, I told you to get rid of Jake. Where, exactly, did you get rid of him to?” I paused and met her gaze. “Weren’t you with Chad? Why do you still care about Jake?” Lisa’s face flushed a deep, ugly red. “I’m warning you, Ava. Just because I’m done with that loser doesn’t mean you can pick up my leftovers. It’s disgusting.” I lowered my eyes and said nothing more. Arguing with an idiot is a waste of breath. That afternoon, I got a text from Jake. “Dinner tonight.” In the evening, I changed into a simple dress and waited for him at the campus gate. Jake arrived on time, looking as cool and detached as ever. I walked behind him, trying to figure out his angle for the night. He suddenly stopped. “Ava, about last night…” He was cut off before he could finish. “Well, well, if it isn’t Jake.” I turned to see Lisa clinging to the arm of a slick-haired trust fund kid, a defiant look on her face. “What’s this? Dumped by me and already found a replacement?” Her eyes, full of contempt, darted between the two of us. “Jake, you’re a broke nobody. What right do you have to date anyone? What could you possibly buy for her?” Jake’s expression darkened. I stepped forward, positioning myself between them. “Who I have dinner with is none of your business, Lisa.” Lisa’s new boyfriend, Chad, eyed me with a lecherous grin. “She’s with you? She looks pretty innocent. Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight, sweetheart?” The color drained from Lisa’s face. She tugged on Chad’s arm. “Honey, don’t we have a movie to get to? Let’s not waste our time on people like this.” She shot me a venomous glare before dragging the man away. Jake looked at me. “You’re pretty quick to jump to my defense.” I looked down, exposing the pale, slender line of my neck. “I just think she’s being cruel.” He suddenly smiled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Come on. Let’s get that dinner.” 2 To catch a big fish, you have to use the right bait. I tracked Jake’s movements online and, dressed in the red vest of my part-time job, stood outside a high-end shopping mall with a stack of flyers. The people bustling past were dripping with wealth, their eyes sliding over me with disdain. “Hi, would you be interested in a gym membership…?” A flyer slipped from my hand. As I bent to pick it up, another hand got there first. My heart skipped a beat. I looked up, and of course, it was Jake. He was wearing a bright yellow food delivery jacket, a thermal bag in his hand. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said, a half-smile playing on his lips as he handed me the flyer. I froze for a second, then let a look of pure delight spread across my face. “Jake? You’re working… here too?” He went along with it effortlessly. “Just running a few orders.” I pulled him over to the steps by the mall’s side entrance. Taking out a half-empty bottle of mineral water from my bag, I offered it to him shyly. “This is all I have. If you don’t mind…” Jake glanced at the bottle but didn’t take it. Instead, he reached into his delivery bag, pulled out a bottle with the label peeled off, twisted the cap, and handed it to me. “Drink this. Customer cancellation. It’s free.” I took it, sipping slowly. “Are you really that tight on money?” He leaned back against the wall. “Yeah. I’m in a lot of debt. Don’t even have next month’s rent sorted.” I put the water down and reached for his hand, my grip firm. “It’s okay.” I looked him straight in the eye, my voice unwavering. “I’ll work more jobs. I can support you. As long as we work together, we can pay off any debt.” His fingers tensed in mine. He turned his head and stared at me, his gaze intense. “Ava, what’s your game?” I lowered my head, a blush creeping up my cheeks. “I like you!” Jake laughed. “Alright then. You can support me.” He tightened his grip on my hand. “You said it yourself. Don’t regret it.” I nodded fiercely. “Never.” Oh, Mr. Thorne, I thought, you’re the one who said it. Don’t you be the one crying with regret later. Lisa and my other roommates started freezing me out, talking loudly about me whenever I was in the room. “So shameless. She’ll throw herself at any man.” “Seriously. Trying to steal Lisa’s man? She should take a look in the mirror.” I ignored all of it. One day, Lisa “accidentally” knocked over a bottle of expensive skincare Jake had given me, shattering it on the floor. She rolled her eyes. “Well, you shouldn’t have left it on the edge.” I quietly knelt and cleaned up the mess. That night, while video-chatting with Jake, I was dabbing ointment on the back of my hand. “What happened to your hand?” he asked. “Oh? It’s nothing, I just bumped it,” I said, quickly hiding my hand behind my back. But the camera had already swept past the pile of shattered glass on the corner of my desk. The next day, Lisa’s rich boyfriend had all his credit cards frozen by his family and was promptly dumped. Lisa threw a tantrum in the dorm, smashing all of her own makeup in a rage. I knew it was Jake. A man like him would never tolerate someone touching his property. Not even a toy. To solidify our bond, I decided to give him a gift. I ordered a hand-knitted scarf online. In the special instructions, I wrote: Make it as ugly as possible, with as many loose threads as you can manage. It cost me thirty bucks. The emotional value was the entire point. When I gave it to him, Jake’s expression was hard to read. I stood beside him, my face burning. “I’m sorry… it’s my first time knitting. It’s so ugly. We should just throw it away.” I reached for it, but Jake pulled it out of my reach. He wrapped the lopsided scarf around his neck. “It’s warm.” That night, Jake was particularly passionate. But right at the peak, he stopped. He tilted my chin up. “Ava, if I were this poor forever, would you still stay with me?” I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck. “Don’t be silly. I love you, not your money.” I met his gaze, my eyes clear and shining with devotion. “As long as I can be with you, I’ll do anything.” Jake’s body went rigid for a second before he moved again, harder this time. “Fool,” he whispered against my skin. My gaze drifted over his shoulder to the watch he’d casually tossed on the nightstand. A Patek Philippe Nautilus. Seven figures on the secondary market. I echoed his sentiment in my head. Idiot. The next day, he updated his social media with a new photo: a selfie of him wearing the ugly scarf. He’d hidden it from most of his contacts, but it was a step. That post was a dagger to Lisa’s heart. Having been dumped by Chad, she was starting to remember Jake’s good qualities. Furious, she stormed over to the men’s dorms to confront him. Instead, she witnessed him stepping into a black Maybach. Lisa was dumbfounded. She ran back to our dorm, shoving the photo she’d secretly taken in my face. “Ava, you stupid bitch, you’ve been played!” “I knew something was off! No poor guy carries himself like that. Jake’s not broke, he’s a fucking kept man! Some rich old lady is paying for him!” She grew more frantic, as if she’d uncovered a massive conspiracy. I glanced at the photo, smiling inwardly. Oh, Lisa. Is that really as far as your imagination can go? The idea of an heir slumming it is just too far outside your reality, isn’t it? I pushed her phone away. “Jake is not that kind of person.” Lisa scoffed and pocketed her phone. “We’ll see about that. I’ll ask him myself tomorrow.” “Get ready to cry your eyes out, Ava.” 3 Of course, I wasn’t going to ask him anything. But an idiot like Lisa, if she really went and accused Jake of being a gigolo, would trigger his temper. He’d blow his cover on the spot. And then my access to him would be gone. I looked at Lisa and let out a cold laugh. “Lisa, let me guess. Chad dumped you, you’re broke, and now you want Jake back, right?” “So you staged this whole drama to drive a wedge between us so you can swoop in?” Her face turned the color of a ripe tomato. “What are you talking about? I would never want a loser like him!” The more agitated she got, the more I knew I was right. “If you don’t want him, then why do you care if he’s a gigolo or not?” I pressed on. “Or is it that you just can’t stand to see me happy?” Lisa glared at me, but in the end, she didn’t confront Jake. Soon, it was Jake’s birthday. I took out all my savings and maxed out my credit cards, scraping together five thousand dollars. I went to a luxury watch boutique I’d been eyeing for weeks. You have to spend money to make money. On the day of Jake’s birthday, Lisa announced she was dating another rich guy, some guy named Rick. “Unlike some people,” she announced loudly in the dorm, “I have standards. I don’t date male prostitutes.” I paid her no mind and headed downstairs with a plain shopping bag. Jake was waiting for me under the old oak tree. “Jake.” Lisa sauntered over, her chin high with superiority. “Waiting for Ava? You two are a perfect match. You both reek of poverty.” The man, Rick, wrapped an arm around her waist and shot Jake a disdainful look. “Hey, kid. I heard you used to chase after Lisa. Stay away from her from now on. A toad should know his place.” Jake just smiled. “I wish you two the best.” Lisa, stunned by his indifference, just huffed and climbed into a waiting Porsche. Jake stood there as I walked up and stood quietly behind him. He turned, his eyes falling on the plain plastic bag in my hand. “What, you think I’m embarrassing you?” I didn’t say anything. Instead, like a magician, I pulled a small box from behind my back. I opened it and stuck a single candle into the tiny cupcake inside. The wind was strong, and I cupped my hands around the flame. The warm, orange light flickered across my face. I looked up and forced a smile. “Happy birthday, Jake.” His gaze shifted from the cupcake to the small bandage on my hand. He just stared at me, and the cold, mocking look in his eyes began to soften. I sniffled, holding the cupcake up to him. “Make a wish!” The wind blew the candle out. For the first time, I saw an emotion in the eyes of this city’s crown prince that looked like guilt. Even if it was just for a fleeting moment, it was enough. I handed him the watch that had cost me everything. He opened the box and raised an eyebrow, surprised, but he didn’t ask any questions. The heartfelt speech I had prepared was no longer necessary. 4 Jake came back to my apartment with me. I went to the kitchen to wash my hands, mentally calculating my investment. A five-thousand-dollar entry ticket for a deal like this? Worth it. Jake walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around me from behind, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I turned in his arms, and we kissed. It was deep and passionate, but he suddenly pulled back. “Wait a second.” I watched as he stepped into the bathroom, his sharp silhouette visible through the frosted glass door. His phone, left on the nightstand, lit up. A bank transfer notification popped onto the screen. [A deposit of $10,000,000.00 has been made to your savings account. Current balance: $134,578,990.50.] My heart hammered against my ribs. Some devilish impulse took over, and my hand shot out. Relying on the password I’d memorized from countless stolen glances, my trembling fingers unlocked his phone. The first thing I did was open his banking app. When I saw that dizzying string of zeros with my own eyes, I nearly laughed out loud. A massive wave of euphoria washed over me. I’d won. My gamble had paid off. My life was about to change forever. I was set for life. Hell, I was set for the next life, too. But greed is a bottomless pit. Seeing his money wasn’t enough. I wanted to see his world. The social circle of a blue-blooded heir… it was the world I had only dreamed of entering. This would be my ticket into high society. I opened his messaging app. Pinned to the top was a three-person group chat named “The Bet.” My stomach dropped. A terrible feeling washed over me. I tapped on the chat. At the very top of the history was a photo. It was me, from that first rainy night, in the thin white t-shirt—curves on full display, a picture of vulnerable seduction. [Jake, damn, this girl’s legit. Body is a 10/10.] [She looks so innocent, but she knows exactly how to play the game.] My heart started to pound. Trembling, I pressed play on a voice message from Jake. His voice, cold and amused, filled the silence. “She’s interesting… a body like that? It’d be a shame not to fuck it.” I scrolled down. Every one of our “chance” encounters, every confession of mine, had been live-blogged and mocked in this group. [So, how long are you planning to play with this one?] [Let’s see how long she can keep up the act.] [The plan is to wait until she thinks she’s really won me over. Then I’ll dump her. That’s when it gets fun.] I gripped the phone, feeling like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. All my cleverness, all my careful planning, was nothing but a clumsy, pathetic performance in his eyes. A tidal wave of humiliation, the fury of being played, and a terrifying fear of the unknown crashed over me, threatening to drown me. The bathroom door opened. I didn’t have time to put the phone down. I could only raise my head, my body frozen. Jake stood there with a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping from his dark hair. He leaned against the doorframe, pulled a cigarette from a pack, and lit it. Through the swirling smoke, he looked at me, his face a mask of condescending mockery. “Well, Ava? The show’s over?”

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I scrolled past a street interview by a popular influencer. “What would you say to yourself from five years ago?” In the video, Lucas Sterling held his young girlfriend close. His voice was calm, dripping with affection. “I wish the Lucas Sterling of five years ago could have met Bella earlier.” The girl in his arms blushed, covering her mouth as she agreed. “Me too.” Netizens screamed about how sweet they were, sending blessings in the comments. No one knew that five years ago was the day Lucas and I got married. Even he had forgotten. Until a week later. The same influencer posted another street interview video. In the frame, I looked straight into the camera and said seriously: “If I could, I’d say: Sarah, don’t marry Lucas Sterling. You will regret it.” This time, Lucas saw it. 1 The day I agreed to the divorce was a very ordinary afternoon. I called Lucas, but Bella picked up. “Hello?” “I’m looking for Lucas.” “He’s in the shower. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Her voice was as perky and fearless as ever. Faintly laced with a sense of ownership and showing off. In the past, I would have screamed and shouted hysterically for Bella to get lost, demanding to see Lucas. But now, I knew very well that only Bella could reach Lucas. I couldn’t let her hang up on me like before. Leaving me alone like a crazy woman. “Didn’t he say he wanted a divorce? I agree.” I calmly conveyed my message. On the other end, Bella fell silent for a second, then repeated in disbelief. “You agree to the divorce?” “Yes.” As soon as the words fell. A rustling sound came through. Lucas must have taken the phone. Soon, his low and indifferent voice sounded in my ear. “It’s me.” I knew. Hearing his voice, I was a little dazed. After all, since he moved out of the villa six months ago to be with Bella, we hadn’t been in contact. The last thing he said to me was: “Sarah, let’s get a divorce. If you don’t agree, I’ll separate from you and then file a lawsuit.” Now, six months later, I compromised. “Bella said you want a divorce?” Seeing I was silent, Lucas asked first. He probably frowned when he said this, his tone carrying a hint of confusion. I didn’t understand where his confusion came from. Didn’t he bring up the divorce? But now I didn’t want to argue with Lucas about “who brought it up.” I hummed a yes. I told him: “If you have time, let’s meet and sign the divorce agreement.” With that, I hung up the phone. 2 This was the first time I hung up first since discovering Lucas’s affair. Before, I was the one bombarding him with calls and texts. I cursed him with the most vicious words and begged him with the saddest voice. But every time, Lucas would say impatiently: “Can you stop acting like a crazy woman? Talk to me when you’re emotionally stable.” Then he would mercilessly end the call. No matter how much I called or texted, he ignored me. I tried to stop, but whenever I thought about our years of relationship ending like this, I couldn’t control myself. I wanted to question Lucas, why betray me? I also wanted to beg Lucas, please come back, I would forgive him. But after all the resentment and waiting, Lucas remained the same. And I gradually became paranoid, truly as he said, like a crazy woman. I lived in a daze for a long time, immersed in this tormenting relationship. Until three days ago. I scrolled onto a street interview video by an influencer named “Time Capsule.” The question was: “What would you say to yourself from five years ago?” Some said study hard. Some said spend more time with family. Some said the self seven years later is great and excellent, living up to expectations. … In this series of answers, I saw Lucas Sterling and his little girlfriend, Bella. This made me believe it wasn’t scripted. After all, with Lucas’s current status, even A-list celebrities need an appointment to see him. And this influencer really seemed to be grabbing random passersby for interviews. And he got Lucas. At the beginning of the clip, Lucas seemed a bit displeased with the interview. It was Bella beside him, looking surprised and interested. “So interesting, Lucas, let’s play.” She shook Lucas’s arm, acting coquettishly. Lucas looked helpless but indulged her, agreeing. The influencer briefly introduced himself and his purpose, then asked that unified question. Bella fell into thought. Lucas, seeing her struggle, answered for her first. “If possible, I hope the Lucas of five years ago could have met Bella earlier.” When he said this, he had his arm around her. Although his voice was cool, it wasn’t hard to hear his protectiveness towards the girl. Bella in his arms looked at him in surprise, then covered her mouth shyly and agreed. “Me too.” 3 When I saw this video, it already had tens of thousands of likes. Many netizens in the comments were screaming. 【Damn! This couple is so good-looking! I ship it!】 【Omg, pure love couple! Great, there’s hope for us!】 【So sweet! You must be happy! Wishing you a long life together!】 I stared at the video in a daze. Did Lucas like Bella that much? Did he forget? Five years ago, we just got married. That was when our relationship was at its best. Even though we were poor, we felt incredibly happy. And now, he said in the video. He wished he had met Bella five years ago. I thought I would be angry and furious as usual. Then rush to call Lucas to bombard and question him. If he didn’t pick up, I would smash everything in the villa and scream to vent. But miraculously. This time, I just sat there motionless. Those comments that should have stung my eyes and provoked my emotions just scrolled past like lines of code. Then, it felt like something was extracted and dispersed from my mind. I was surprised to find. I actually felt nothing about Lucas’s behavior. Obsession happens in an instant, and so does letting go. Thus, the phone call earlier. 4 Lucas messaged me. In front of a sea of red exclamation marks indicating failed messages. That white-boxed message was particularly conspicuous. It seemed Lucas had unblocked me. I thought mockingly. Lucas asked me to go to his company tomorrow, Monday. He would have his lawyer draft the agreement. Once both parties communicated without issues, we could sign and wait for the divorce cooling-off period to pass. 【Okay.】 On Monday, I arrived at Lucas’s company as agreed. Because I didn’t have an appointment, the receptionist called to ask for instructions. “Yes, a lady named Sarah.” After hanging up, the receptionist told me to go up to the CEO’s office floor, where a secretary would receive me. I said thanks and went straight to Lucas’s floor. A strange young girl received me. I didn’t know her. After all, since separating from Lucas, I hadn’t been here for six months. Probably a new employee. “Miss Sarah, please wait here first. Mr. Sterling is in a meeting.” The girl didn’t know me either. She called me Miss Sarah and led me to a reception room on the side. Before, I would go directly to Lucas’s office to wait. His meetings usually lasted an hour or more. I didn’t like waiting for people. Lucas knew this. Afraid I’d be bored, he put many books and DVDs in his office. “You can read books and watch movies. If you’re tired, wait for me in the lounge.” He told me back then. The last time I came. All my things in Lucas’s office had been replaced. The person who could enter his private lounge at will had become someone else. Now, if I wanted to see him, I could only wait in an ordinary reception room. But now I really didn’t have the mood or energy to argue over such small things. So I waited quietly. I had plenty of time anyway. What I didn’t expect was that I waited for two hours this time. Still, no one came to notify me to see Lucas. “Excuse me, is your CEO’s meeting over?” I couldn’t help but ask the girl who brought me to the reception room. The girl was evasive: “Mr. Sterling is still in a meeting…” I frowned, about to speak. Suddenly, the sound of talking and laughing came to my ears. “Then let’s go eat at that restaurant for lunch.” “Okay.”

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I’ve been the Lunch Lady at St. Jude’s Academy, a private high school for the ultra-wealthy, for thirteen years. My cooking is impeccable. Even these picky heirs and heiresses are addicted to my food. Although my family isn’t rich, my husband is hardworking and honest, and my daughter is smart and beautiful. I always thought I was happy. Until my elementary school daughter offended a group of mean girls over a trivial matter and was pushed off a roof. When my honest husband went to the school to demand justice, they had his legs broken and threw him out like trash. That afternoon, I sat behind the serving counter, unable to stop my tears. Suddenly, a hand gently tapped my shoulder. “Auntie Liu, what’s good for lunch today?” I wiped my face in a panic. Looking up, I saw the students who were usually joking around now wearing expressions of deadly seriousness. “Auntie, who bullied you? Why are you crying?” 1 The morning started with heavy snow falling outside the window. I took out the fresh ingredients prepared the night before, chopping them finely. I mixed the seasoned pork, stirring it in one direction until it was perfect. Seasoning, a splash of hot oil—the aroma exploded instantly. Next to me, the large pot of lamb soup had turned milky white, bubbling away. I fished out the cooked lamb, sliced it thin, and started stewing a huge pot of beef curry before rolling out dough for dumplings. As soon as the lunch bell rang, students swarmed in. Leo, the school’s biggest troublemaker, was the first to rush the window. “Auntie Liu! I’m starving. What’s on the menu?” I smiled. “It’s the Winter Solstice today. I made four kinds of dumplings. If you don’t want dumplings, there’s lamb soup or beef curry with rice!” Behind him, Asher, who grew up with Leo, strolled in. “So many options? Aren’t you tired, Auntie?” “By the way, my dad said your raise is approved for next year. It’s a done deal.” “Also, for the summer Europe trip, the school will cover the costs for you and your daughter to come along. We can hang out.” Asher is the Chairman’s son. He looks cold, but he’s the most reliable. If he says it, it’s happening. I grinned from ear to ear and served him a huge bowl of lamb soup, the meat piled high like a mountain. Leo protested immediately. “Auntie Liu, that’s favoritism! Why does he get more meat?” “There’s plenty for everyone! Come back for seconds if you’re still hungry!” I stepped aside, pointing to the results of my morning’s work. “Unlimited refills!” Leo almost jumped with joy. “Yes! Auntie Liu, I love you!” 2 I came from a poor mountain village with two younger brothers. At seven, I was standing on a stool to cook for the whole family. After middle school, my dad smoked his pipe and said there was no money for me to continue studying. The next day, I tore up my high school acceptance letter, grabbed a worn-out bag, and took a train north. I was fifteen. I worked on assembly lines until I stumbled into a kitchen job at a big hotel. The head chef saw my hard work and taught me real skills. I saved money, went to night school, and got my culinary certification. At twenty-one, I was hired by this elite private high school. In the blink of an eye, I’ve been cooking here for thirteen years. After cleaning up at 3 PM, I went to pick up my daughter, Mia. Mia is ten, a fourth-grader at a nearby public school. Seeing me, she handed over a certificate like it was treasure. “Mom! I won first place in the city essay contest! The teacher said I’m going to the nationals next month!” My hands shook with excitement. I hugged her tight. “Mia, you’re amazing!” “Tell Mom what you want to eat. Dad will cook a feast tonight!” Mia’s ponytail swung as she skipped forward, holding my hand. Suddenly, I felt a chill on my back, like someone was watching us. I turned around. Two girls about Mia’s age stood at the school gate, staring at us with dark expressions. “Who are they?” I asked. Mia looked over, her face falling. “We used to be friends.” “Last exam, she wanted me to pass her notes. I refused, so she cut me off.” “Mom, did I do something wrong?” I shook my head, smoothing her hair. “No, Mia did the right thing. You don’t need friends like that.” At 6 PM, my husband, Tom, came home. He held a fancy cake box. “For Mia’s award.” “And for our 12th anniversary.” I blushed. “We’re an old couple, why spend money on this…” Tom scratched his head, face red. “The clerk said anniversaries need rituals. You rest, I’ll cook.” He’s a man of few words, just hard work. Soon, a table of our favorite dishes was ready. Mia closed her eyes to make a wish. “I wish for our family to be together forever, healthy and rich!” 3 Since the school is far, I usually stay in the staff dorms and only go home on weekends. On Monday, Tom gave me a bag of pastries from his bakery. “Last time some punks caused trouble at the shop, a few of your students helped out and bought a lot. These are for them.” After the lunch rush, I gave the pastries to a few girls I was close with. Leo saw it and wailed. “Auntie Liu! Discrimination! Why only for the girls?” A girl rolled her eyes. “Got a problem with that?” “No, no,” Leo grinned. “I just wanted Auntie Liu’s number so I can buy some for my sister.” “Tch, just say you want to eat. Always using your sister as a shield.” Listening to their banter, my heart felt warm. 4 Actually, when I first started, I didn’t know the students well. In my third year, a girl caught my attention. She hovered by the window every day, eventually ordering the cheapest vegetable dish. It hurt to watch. This school has scholarship kids too. So, whenever I served her, I hid braised pork or fish under the rice. We had a silent understanding. But a few days later, she brought the tray back, face cold. “Change this. I don’t eat fish. I didn’t order this. Why did you decide for me?” I noticed the expensive bracelet on her wrist. I realized my mistake, blushing. “Sorry… Auntie will get you a new one.” I just wanted the kids to eat well. Full stomachs study better. I served her again. As she turned to leave, she saw me give an extra scoop of meat to a skinny boy behind her. She paused. Later, she came back to apologize. “Sorry for my attitude.” I was confused. “I thought… you recognized me as the Chairman’s daughter and were trying to suck up to me.” Her name is Chloe, Asher’s older sister. She told me she usually ate at home but came to the cafeteria after fighting with her parents. We became close. Whenever I made a new dish, I asked Chloe to taste it. “Auntie, these wings are amazing. What’s in them?” “Yogurt marinade.” “That’s French style! You know that?” I laughed shyly. “I just read cookbooks.” “Seriously, your skills are wasted here. You should open a private kitchen.” I’ve thought about it, but… “I don’t know,” I said. “I feel grounded here.” Watching these vibrant kids, I feel like I’m living out the high school dream I never had. Thirteen years passed like this. Just after lunch service, Mia’s homeroom teacher called. “Mia’s mom, come to school immediately. Something happened.” My heart sank. “What happened?” “A fight. It’s complicated. We need a parent meeting.” Leo, who hadn’t left, asked, “Auntie Liu, what’s wrong? You look pale.” I untied my apron, rushing out. “Nothing. Just going to Mia’s school.” “Let me know if you need anything!”

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Three years into my relationship with Rhys Davenport, the Crown Prince of the East Coast Elite, we were finally supposed to get engaged. But at the engagement party, he was nowhere to be found, leaving me to face the humiliating crowd alone. His friends offered dry platitudes about the endurance required of an elite wife. They were mistaken. I took every penny Rhys had given me over those years and vanished completely from the City. The truth is, I knew the end of my story with him the moment it began. I was worrying about my next meal when I happened to overhear a girl sweetly clinging to his arm. “Big Bro, our student council president has a huge crush on Sutton. Go sweep Sutton off her feet so I have a chance with him!” Rhys just smirked. “If you insist, then I suppose I must obey.” Between the two of us, there was never a single shred of genuine emotion, not from the start. 1 The starting time on the invitation had come and gone an hour ago, but Rhys still hadn’t shown. Catching the pitying, slightly mocking stares of the guests, I sighed, a gesture of mild regret, and slowly began to unclip the expensive high-jewelry necklace from my throat. His friend, Grant, was leaning against the doorway, his voice thick with its usual condescension. “Sutton, what’s the rush? Rhys got held up. You want to be a Davenport woman, you need a little more patience than this.” I ignored him, turning to the mirror to unhurriedly take off my diamond earrings. Another girl scooted closer, feigning concern. “Sutton, don’t be sad. Rhys wouldn’t do this on purpose. He’s probably just held up by something more important.” She bit down hard on those two words, her pretty face momentarily twisting with the emphasis. Watching her in the mirror, I suddenly smiled. “Sad?” I repeated the word, placing the earrings gently on the velvet tray where they made a faint, delicate clink. “Why would I be sad?” The dressing room fell silent for a moment. I turned around, my gaze calmly sweeping over each of them. “I wasn’t waiting this hour because I expected him to show up.” Grant frowned, demanding to know what I was trying to do. I stood up and began to pull down the invisible side zipper of the couture gown. “I’m changing clothes. Can’t you tell?” My tone was as casual as commenting on the weather. “Sutton! Don’t push your luck!” Someone nearby started loudly talking. “Rhys has spoiled you rotten! Are you seriously trying to use a runaway-bride stunt to blackmail him? You walk out that door today, and tomorrow you’ll be nothing!” The zipper reached its end, and the expensive fabric slid to the floor, revealing the simple white T-shirt and jeans I’d already put on underneath. I bent down into the silk heap and retrieved the old canvas backpack—a bag that looked utterly out of place in this gilded room—and slung it over my shoulder. Then, I looked at everyone in the room and answered their question very seriously: “I was never ‘anything’ to begin with.” “So, I’m not afraid to lose anything now.” Without another word, I didn’t wait to see the mixture of surprise and offense on their faces. I walked straight to the side exit. Rhys was the ultimate prince of this elite circle, the undisputed leader of these high-society kids. They had always looked down on me because my family was utterly insignificant compared to theirs. They couldn’t understand why Rhys was with me, and they always spoke to me with a barbed edge. Even on the verge of becoming his wife, their tone remained one of barely concealed derision. Rhys was the one who fled the engagement, yet they were all ready to dump the entire disaster on my head. I should have argued with them, let out three years of pent-up bitterness. But I didn’t have the time. My flight out of the country was booked for today. I wasn’t surprised at all by Rhys’s non-appearance. A week ago, the high-jewelry set he’d ordered for me had just been delivered. I was about to call him when I heard his sister, Cassidy, screaming hysterically in his study. “You’re really going to marry that low-class bitch, Sutton! You only got with her to help me hook up with Dean, didn’t you? You didn’t actually fall for her, did you?!” Rhys’s indifferent voice floated back, airy and dismissive: “How could I? I could never like someone so boring. Relax. I’m just setting the stage for you, little sister.” Cassidy’s mood changed instantly. She sounded delighted. “Are you going to dump her at the engagement party, Bro? I knew a charity case like her could never fool you.” A single wall separated us, but I could picture Rhys’s familiar, playful smile as he consoled his pouting sister. What a picture of sibling devotion. If the “charity case” being discussed—the one who was about to be publicly dumped at her own engagement party—hadn’t been me, maybe I would have admired the scene. 2 It was no secret that Rhys spoiled Cassidy. Early in our relationship, when he wanted to introduce me to his friends, he had a special evening gown made for me. It was a beautiful pale blue, and I loved it. When I stepped out of the fitting room, Rhys’s eyes lit up. “Sutton, blue looks incredible on you.” The spoiled young man, who usually had a three-minute attention span, spent the entire afternoon with me, helping me pick out accessories and waiting while I got my hair and makeup done. That evening, I was still nervous. The hand clutching his sleeve betrayed my anxiety. Rhys chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. Everyone’s friendly.” The atmosphere was good. His close friends and the girls from their circle were gathered, playing cards. They greeted us warmly. “Hey, Rhys! Hello, Little Lady!” Rhys arranged for a few of the girls to play poker with me, while he was pulled away by his brothers to play pool next door. No sooner had he left than Cassidy walked in. She looked me up and down, her expression clearly mocking and malicious. “Ugh, isn’t that the dress I asked the maid to throw out? You picked it up and wore it. You certainly know how to choose cast-offs.” I didn’t even get a chance to explain before Cassidy waved a hand to cut me off. “Ah, whatever. It’s too big on me anyway. Consider it recycling.” Hearing the commotion, Rhys quickly came out of the next room to intervene. “What are you bothering your sister-in-law for? You don’t even own a blue dress.” Seeing Rhys, Cassidy became instantly saccharine. “Oh, but I like it, Big Bro! I don’t care, you have to buy me ten of them!” Rhys laughed, indulging her. “Alright, alright, you always get your way.” Cassidy mumbled happily and settled into the seat next to him, contentedly enjoying the cake Rhys handed her. Everyone’s expression in the room became awkward. The girls who had been acting like my best friends minutes ago suddenly found the floor endlessly fascinating, completely isolating me. It was obvious to everyone that Cassidy was intentionally trying to humiliate me. Rhys saw it too, but he did nothing to help. Only after Cassidy left to go play with her friends did Rhys lean in to quietly apologize. “Cassidy’s got a weak constitution, she can’t get upset, so we always give in to her. I’m sorry I put you through that, babe.” From then on, Rhys kept Cassidy and me mostly separated. I knew why. But I didn’t care. Because every time I was slighted, the compensation—a random piece of jewelry or a gift—was worth a luxury condo. So, what was a little humiliation? A person can’t choose pride over money. 3 Because everyone knew Cassidy and I were at odds, they never thought I’d last long with Rhys. I never managed to fit into their circle, and when Rhys realized it, he didn’t say anything publicly, but he quietly funneled even more money into my accounts. That’s why our engagement surprised everyone. A week before the party, Cassidy insisted on throwing a bachelor/bachelorette bash. She chose an ultra-exclusive members’ club and invited the most notorious party girls in their circle—all stunning, flirty, and eager. I remained unfazed. Rhys, however, frowned and muttered in a voice only I could hear: “What is my sister playing at? If you don’t like this, we can make a brief appearance and leave.” He put an arm around my shoulder, guiding me toward the lounge, but Cassidy cut him off. “Sutton, you haven’t been to one of our parties in ages. I get why you’re uncomfortable.” She was dressed provocatively, handing a glass of champagne to both Rhys and me. “You know, in our world, this kind of socializing is normal. It’s a little different from a strictly transactional relationship.” I laughed softly, took the glass, and took a sip. I smoothed the fabric of my dress, my voice utterly calm as I spoke to the siblings. “It’s fine. Have fun, but don’t stay out too late. Cassidy, take good care of your brother for me.” Rhys looked momentarily stunned, clearly not expecting that reaction. Cassidy, missing her brother’s pause, smiled triumphantly and hooked her arm through his. “See, Bro? Your fiancée gave you permission. What are you waiting for? Come on in!” “Some of the girls who used to have a massive crush on you are here. Last chance to be a bachelor!” My heart no longer reacted to Cassidy’s juvenile provocations. I simply gave Rhys a serene wave. To my surprise, he grabbed my arm, his expression darkening. “Sutton, what is this? Are you trying to push me toward other women?” Push you to other women? You were never mine to begin with. Amused, I looked up at him. “Well, if I asked you not to go, would you stay?” The lighting in the room was dim and suggestive, the music deafening. I watched Rhys quietly. Before he could answer, Cassidy’s voice rose, a little panicked. “Big Bro! You promised me!” Rhys instantly snapped out of his daze. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he reluctantly let go of my arm. “Sutton, wait for me to come back.” He didn’t finish the sentence before Cassidy forcefully dragged him into the room. The last few words were swallowed by the bass, as if they were never spoken. The moment Rhys entered, the women swarmed him—some pouring drinks, others leaning in to whisper, practically plastered to his side. Rhys looked distracted, his eyes constantly flicking toward the doorway, as if waiting for something. I stood in the hallway, took one last look through the crack in the door, and turned away. I didn’t look back. He’d never know how much I hoped he would fall apart that night. The more reckless he was, the more justifiable my departure would be. Rhys didn’t fall apart. He came home around 3 a.m., smelling of smoke and liquor. I was still awake, organizing paperwork for my upcoming study abroad program in the study. He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. His warm breath, mixed with the scent of alcohol, tickled my ear. “Why are you still up? Waiting for me?” Perhaps it was the alcohol, but his voice was a little husky, laced with amusement. I didn’t turn around, continuing my work. “Yes. Did you have fun?” “It was fine. The noise gave me a headache.” He nuzzled my neck, his tone seeking praise. “I kept checking my phone. You didn’t send me a single text.” I honestly didn’t have the energy to placate him, but he was unusually clingy when drunk. He pulled back and looked into my eyes. “Are you jealous? I swear, I didn’t touch any of those girls. Didn’t even take their numbers.” I met his gaze for a long moment, sighed, and resignedly helped him into bed. 4 I first truly met Rhys next to a dumpster in the alley behind an off-campus bar. I was arguing with the bar owner, who was trying to stiff me on my wages. The air reeked of stale beer and trash. “You agreed to eighty an hour. I worked five hours. That’s four hundred dollars.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but my hand was shaking, and not just from the cold. The owner, cigarette dangling from his lip, squinted at me. “That imported glass you broke? That was two hundred. The other two hundred is a lesson fee. The real world isn’t a university, got it?” I was about to argue when a lazy, drawling voice cut in. “Oh? What kind of glass costs two hundred? Let me see.” Rhys appeared, leaning against the streetlight at the alley’s mouth. The light framed his perfect profile and tall, imposing figure. Two equally expensively dressed, amused-looking men stood behind him. The owner froze. He clearly recognized Rhys’s bespoke suit and his entourage, and his bravado deflated. “Mr. Davenport? What are you doing in a place like this? It’s just this little worker, she doesn’t understand…” “Cut the crap.” Rhys walked past the owner without a glance, coming straight up to me. He took off his cashmere overcoat and, without a word, draped it over my stained, worn jacket. The coat smelled clean, of expensive soap and subtle warmth, immediately blocking out the stench of the alley. He turned back to the owner, his tone quiet but carrying undeniable pressure. “The money.” The man, who minutes ago was a bully, immediately fumbled for his wallet. Rhys took the crumpled bills, didn’t look at them, and shoved them into my hand. Then he told the owner, “The cost of the glass. You can collect it from the front desk at Davenport Industries tomorrow.” The owner was nodding and bowing, barely daring to breathe. “Let’s go.” Rhys casually placed his hand on my shoulder, guiding me out. His friends whistled softly and walked ahead. Clutching the crumpled four hundred dollars and the coat still warm from his body, my heart, already hardened by the constant struggle of my life, accelerated uncontrollably in the frigid night air. He drove an expensive sports car, its interior so clean it looked untouched. He told me to get in, offering to take me back to campus. The heat was on high in the car. It was so quiet I could hear my own breathing. I sat with my head down, staring at the creased four hundred dollars. “That kind of place isn’t for you.” He spoke, his voice deep and pleasant in the confined space. “I need the money.” It was the simple truth. I was desperately poor. He glanced at me, said nothing. A moment later, while waiting at a red light, he asked abruptly. “What’s your major?” “Finance.” “Coincidence. My company is looking for interns. The hourly wage is much higher than what you were making, and it’s safe.” His tone was casual, as if discussing the weather. “Start tomorrow?” I knew this was sudden, that something was wrong. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Combined with the conversation I’d accidentally overheard between him and Cassidy days earlier, the answer was obvious. This was a calculated meeting, the opening move in a hunt designed to pave the way for his sister. Every rational part of me screamed to walk away. But I turned my head, looking at his long fingers gripping the steering wheel, the surprisingly low-key but incredibly expensive watch on his wrist, and his handsome, almost aggressively perfect profile. He could effortlessly solve the problems I agonized over. He could offer a wage I couldn’t refuse. He could pull me out of that chaotic, disgusting alley. With him, I wouldn’t have to worry about my next meal or next semester’s tuition. The car stopped on a quiet street near campus. He didn’t rush me out, just rolled down the window, letting the night air rush in. “Why did you help me?” I heard myself ask, my voice dry. He smiled, his finger tapping lightly on the steering wheel. The streetlights played across his eyes, flickering. “I find you… interesting.” He paused, then added,

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To save my husband, Ethan Vance, from a fatal fall while he was working on a high-voltage line, I disregarded my own safety and acted as his human cushion. He walked away with a few scratches. I shattered my right arm and suffered severe internal bleeding. Later, pressured by the town’s gossip about how he owed me his life, he reluctantly married me. But Ethan never loved me. One night, in a drunken stupor, I heard his true feelings. “If I had known I’d be shackled to Clara for the rest of my life, I would have been better off dying in that fall!” I felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath. It turned out that for all those years, Ethan never got over his first love, Sarah. He even told our children stories about their “epic romance” behind my back. Even my own kids grew up believing I had trapped their father with a debt of gratitude, ruining his chance at true happiness. They dumped me in a desolate nursing home where I died alone, consumed by depression. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day Ethan climbed that utility pole. This time, I didn’t catch him. Instead, I stood far, far away. In this life, I’ll let him get exactly what he wished for. 1 “Ethan, be careful up there! Double-check your safety gear!” “Yeah, that pole is over thirty feet high. Falling isn’t an option.” “Take your time, don’t rush it!” Ethan was fully geared up, safety belt around his waist, climbing spikes on his boots, slowly ascending the wooden pole. I was jolted awake by the shouting around me. It felt like the fog in my brain suddenly cleared. Villagers surrounded the scene. Without realizing it, I had walked to the base of the utility pole, staring up at Ethan who was already halfway up. My palms were sweating. Seeing this incredibly familiar scene and hearing the familiar warnings… It hit me. I had been reborn! I was back forty years in the past, to the very day I sacrificed my body to be Ethan’s cushion! In my previous life, when Ethan suddenly fell, I didn’t hesitate to break his fall with my own body. With me as his cushion, Ethan only suffered minor scrapes. I suffered internal bleeding and a comminuted fracture of my right arm. It was only because I was rushed to the hospital that I survived. Because of this life-saving act, a huge stir was created in our small town. The neighbors knew Ethan and I grew up together. We were childhood sweethearts, seemingly a match made in heaven. Everyone gossiped, joking that saving a life should be repaid with marriage. Under the pressure of public opinion, Ethan felt forced to marry me. It wasn’t until after the wedding that I learned he didn’t love me at all. On our wedding day, he hid in the power plant office and called Sarah on the landline, crying his heart out. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I can’t marry you in this life. If there is a next life, I will never let you down again.” After marriage, I buried this secret deep in my heart, telling no one. Although I knew he was forced to marry me, I firmly believed that love could grow over time. I didn’t believe that decades of living together wouldn’t melt his heart. For forty years, I took care of every aspect of Ethan’s life. To let him work without worry, I took on all the household burdens, big and small. But it wasn’t until that drunken confession that I woke up from my dream. You can’t warm a stone. He had told our children countless times about his tragic romance with Sarah, never mentioning my sacrifices. This led the children to resent me for using gratitude to trap him, ruining his lifelong love with Sarah. Thinking back, it was absurd and pathetic. My thoughts were interrupted by a shout. “Hey, look! Why is Ethan climbing down?” Chapter 2 Just then, Ethan, who should have been climbing higher, suddenly turned back. In a few moments, he climbed down the pole. Seeing me standing below, he frowned slightly, giving me a look of disgust, and subconsciously distanced himself from me. “Foreman, this gear is old. The strap was about to snap. Good thing I noticed it in time!” Before I could think, the crowd erupted in noise. Ethan pulled the safety rope with both hands, and it snapped. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, clearly shaken. “Good thing I found out early, or I really would have fallen!” As he spoke, he glanced at me with a hint of sarcasm. “And then someone would have gotten a bargain!” My heart skipped a beat. I knew exactly who “someone” was. The irony was suffocating. In my last life, I nearly died saving him. In Ethan’s eyes, that was me “getting a bargain.” It seemed I wasn’t the only one who was reborn. I sneered. “Then you better pray nothing else goes wrong!” I turned to leave, wanting to get away from this toxic place. But Ethan called out, ordering me to stay. Clearly, my retort had startled him. He stared at me with an ugly expression. “Clara, where are you going? We’re not done here. Stand under the pole. In case something goes wrong, you can catch me.” I whipped around, staring at Ethan’s self-righteous face, and let out a cold laugh. Having lived with him for forty years, I knew exactly how his mind worked. In our past life, after the accident, Ethan developed a fear of heights. He quickly transferred to a desk job at the power plant and never touched line work again. Now, he was afraid of another accident. If he fell again, having me there meant having a meat cushion to save him! “With so many people here, what are you afraid of?” “If something happens, plenty of men can help. Or are you expecting a petite girl like me to carry you?” The crowd laughed, urging him to hurry up and restore the power. “Ethan, we’re watching! You’ll be fine. Fix the line, everyone’s waiting to get back to work!” Ethan’s face turned a nasty shade of green. In our forty years together, I had never refused a single request of his. Now, the first time he opened his mouth after rebirth, I mocked him publicly. As a respected electrician in town, Ethan had never been ridiculed like this. He frowned, glaring at me through gritted teeth. “Fine, Clara. If you leave now, don’t ever expect me to give you the time of day again.” I pretended not to hear him and walked away without looking back. He probably couldn’t imagine that right now, I wanted nothing more than to be as far away from him as possible. Seeing me disappear into the crowd, Ethan could only rage impotently. Under the pressure of the crowd, he had to carefully climb the pole again. After leaving, I rushed straight to the town post office. In my previous life, I had successfully passed the college entrance exam. But because I saved Ethan, I was in a coma for seven days and spent weeks in the hospital. By the time I remembered the admission, I rushed to the post office only to be told I had missed the deadline. It was treated as me forfeiting my spot. And the spot had already been filled by someone else. It couldn’t be reversed. I ended up as a temporary worker at the power plant, constantly mocked by Ethan. Meanwhile, Sarah returned from college, quickly gained a foothold in the plant, and was inseparable from Ethan. I knew many people secretly pitied them as a golden couple ruined by a useless weed like me. I argued, I fought, but in the end, Ethan told me with contempt: “If it weren’t for my connections, do you think you could even be a temp here?” “You think you can compare to Sarah? You’re not worthy.” From that day on, I knew Ethan never let go of Sarah. No matter how much I poured my heart out for him. This time, I will fulfill his wish for a lifelong romance with her. Let him have exactly what he wants! Chapter 3 I went to the counter and gave my name to pick up the admission letter. The postmaster praised me enthusiastically. “You’re the only college student from our town this time! You really did us proud!” He practically escorted me out on a pedestal. I was confused. In my previous life, wasn’t Sarah also a college student? How come I was the only one? But I didn’t dwell on it. When I got home and told my parents the good news, my dad was so excited he lit incense for the ancestors. My mom immediately prepared a feast and invited the neighbors in our alley to celebrate. Ethan’s house was in the same alley, less than twenty yards away. When he came back, still in his work clothes, he had a large gash on his hand, dripping blood. My mom saw it and made me go get some styptic herbs and a towel. I really didn’t want to go. But I couldn’t resist my mom’s stern look. She was a doctor and ran a small clinic. She treated all the neighbors’ minor ailments. Reluctantly, I crushed some herbs in a mortar and applied them to Ethan’s hand, wrapping it with the towel. Ethan looked at me with a complicated expression. “I heard you got into college. You got the admission letter?” I didn’t speak, just nodded. But Ethan’s eyes seemed to show a flash of panic and unease. I thought he might have found a conscience and realized my worth, but he immediately raised his voice. “You can’t go! Clara, I order you to give up this opportunity.” I stared at Ethan like he was an idiot for a long time. He must still think we were living in the past life, where I obeyed him for forty years. I looked at him with sarcasm, a cold smile on my lips. “Why can’t I go? I worked hard to get in, why should I give it up?” “Because Sarah has been waiting for this chance for a long time! As long as you give it up, the school will do a supplementary admission, and I can push Sarah into your spot!” In that instant, I froze, trembling with rage. Once again, Ethan’s words cut me to the bone. No wonder I was the only one admitted, yet in my past life, Sarah was the one who returned with a degree. It was him. In my past life, he caused me to lose my chance at college. And I foolishly thought it was an accident, devoting my life to taking care of him. All the emotions I had buried erupted. I was so stupid. I should have realized it sooner. In my past life, with a salary of sixty dollars a month, he brought home less than half. It wasn’t enough to live on. To lighten his burden, I worked as a temp. Only then did I learn that most of Ethan’s money was being sent away. Now it seems most of it was sent to Sarah, who was in college. My voice squeezed through my gritted teeth. “Ethan, in our last life you made me miss college. This time you want me to give it up again? Keep dreaming! I won’t give this chance to anyone!” He glared at me, threateningly. “I am ordering you, not discussing with you. Clara, if you listen, I don’t mind marrying you again in this life.” “But if you insist on fighting me, don’t blame me for disregarding our past marital bond!” I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled. The metallic taste filled my mouth. Forty years of affection meant nothing to him. In his eyes, there was only Sarah! “Don’t worry. In this life, even if I never marry, I won’t marry you!” With that, I turned and walked away. Behind me, Ethan kicked a chair in rage. “Fine! Clara, if you have the guts, don’t ever come crawling back to me!” I returned home with red eyes. My mom immediately knew I had fought with Ethan. “Clara, don’t cry. Did you fight with Ethan? Listen to mom, if you want to marry him, you have to tolerate his temper.” “No. I will never marry Ethan in this life. Once I go to college, there will be plenty of men better than him!” In my past life, I was trapped by Ethan until death. In this life, I won’t make the same mistake.

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