Category: English

My husband, Lucas, posted a baby announcement on Instagram before I’d even gone into labor. The caption read: Seven pounds, six ounces. Mother and son are doing great. Relatives and friends immediately flooded my phone with congratulatory calls, but I just stared at the screen, utterly baffled. It wasn’t until I zoomed in on the photo’s corner that I saw it: a woman’s hand, resting delicately near the baby, wearing a gleaming sapphire bracelet—the kind Lucas had sworn was too extravagant. I was about to storm out and demand an explanation when our mutual friend’s comment popped up. Dude, you forgot to switch accounts. Lucas’s post vanished faster than a cheap magic trick. No explanation. No apology. Not even a quick text to ask how I, his heavily pregnant wife, was doing. I was strangely calm. There was no screaming, no hysterical phone call. I just endured the wrenching pain of the contractions alone and walked into the delivery room. Two hours later, my daughter was born. I mimicked Lucas’s original post, snapping a photo of her tiny hand clutching my finger, and posting it with the caption: Seven pounds, one ounce. Mother and daughter are doing great. Immediately, Lucas’s calls started flashing across my screen. But this time, I let the phone ring until it went silent. 1 Perhaps he was furious I hadn’t answered, because Lucas didn’t contact me for two full weeks. Then, one afternoon in the recovery suite, just after I’d finished feeding my daughter, my phone buzzed again. Savannah—Lucas’s so-called childhood friend—had posted five consecutive videos, a full showcase of parent-baby interaction. In every clip, Lucas was looking down at the infant in his arms, his eyes soft and entirely devoted. They looked like the perfect, effortless family portrait I’d always dreamed of. In that moment, a thousand tiny, sharp blades pierced my chest. I looked at my daughter’s pink, vulnerable face. My poor baby girl hadn’t even met her father. My fingers twitched. I called Lucas. He finally answered on the fifth try. “The baby has a check-up tomorrow. Pick me up.” I heard a small, impatient sigh. “The center has private transport. Why can’t you just ask them?” Yes, the birthing center offered private transport—but only for the Deluxe Wing. Lucas had been so convincing when he swore the premium suites were booked solid and only a standard room was available. I’d believed him, of course, and hadn’t pressed. Then, just two days after I checked in, his Savannah, the ‘childhood friend,’ moved into the Deluxe Wing upstairs, immediately posting a high-profile thank you note that named Lucas specifically. I was his wife, and I was the fool. The words of protest died in my throat. What was the point of saying it? He wouldn’t hear me. My silence only seemed to irritate him. “Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll come back. What time?” “Tomorrow.” “Tomorrow! You nag constantly. You’re going to push away all our good luck. I swear, Harper, I’m going to divorce you!” I don’t know when the word divorce had become his favorite threat. I remembered a time, when we were dating, that a simple cold look from me would send him scrambling to apologize. He had changed. I had changed too. I used to rage, to grab his collar and demand to know the truth. But now, I just felt bone-tired. “Lucas, hurry! The baby just threw up all over me!” A woman’s light, breathy voice called out from his end. Beep. Beep. The call ended. 2 The day of the scheduled check-up, it rained heavily. I called and messaged Lucas starting at nine a.m., but everything went into a black hole. He had lied to me, again. I remembered how clumsy and heavy I’d felt when I was pregnant. I had once fallen and started bleeding on my own, alone on the way to a prenatal appointment. The nurse helped me call him. He’d promised to rush over, but he only arrived three days later. He had the nerve to blame me for being overly dramatic and wasting his time. Since then, I’d stopped calling him as often. We were the closest of spouses, yet we’d slowly become strangers. After the rain stopped, I still couldn’t reach him. I took a cab to the clinic. The doctor said the baby was thriving, but recommended I get checked out; my own pallor concerned her. I thought of the subtle ache in my abdomen before delivery, an ache that was becoming more pronounced now. I looked at my daughter, peacefully sucking her thumb in her stroller. I’ll come back next month, I thought. As I exited the elevator, I walked directly into Lucas and Savannah. Savannah was wrapped in Lucas’s arms in a theatrical, princess-carry position. “Harper, is that you? You look… different. Pregnancy certainly changes a woman, doesn’t it?” Savannah’s eyes darted past me, and I could feel her smug challenge. I was long past caring about her petty jabs. I’d worried about her too many times; now I was simply indifferent. I pushed the stroller forward, my tone flat. “I brought the baby for a check-up. I won’t interrupt you two. I’m leaving.” “Wait, Harper, don’t misunderstand!” Savannah struggled gently in Lucas’s arms. “I broke my ankle in the shower yesterday, and Lucas stayed up all night with me! You know we’ve been like family since kindergarten, and I’m a single woman, Harper. Who else is he supposed to call? If this upsets you, I won’t ask him again.” Lucas patted her rear end, his voice a soft, low register of resigned affection. “You’re a mother yourself, Sav, stop being so dramatic!” Then his gaze hardened on me, his voice sharp with blame. “Harper, you need to lighten up. Savannah broke her ankle. She’s fragile. She has no one here to help. Can you at least speak to her without that passive-aggressive tone?” I looked at Lucas and let out a short, hollow laugh. “I’m basically a widow, Lucas. Should I go find a man to take care of me too?” His pupils visibly contracted. I turned and pushed the stroller away. That evening, Lucas returned, his face set in a cold mask. “I just saw your calls, Harper. Standing you up was wrong. I apologize.” He sighed, his tone instantly shifting to annoyance. “But you are being ridiculous. You have the center’s car—why do you insist on using mine?” At the mention of the car, I looked up from folding the baby’s blankets. “The center’s car is for the Deluxe Wing, Lucas. I was in the standard room.” The room fell silent. Lucas, realizing he had no ground to stand on, pulled a small, palm-sized box from his pocket and placed it on the table. “The room was my mistake. Let’s drop it.” He slid the box toward me. “I brought you a gift. An apology. Go on, open it.” I opened the box. Inside was a pair of dull, barely-jade earrings. They looked like something you’d find in a dusty rack at a drug store. They were a pathetic contrast to the sapphire bracelet he’d bought Savannah for her birthday just two months ago. In Lucas’s mind, Savannah deserved the stars, and I was only worthy of the dirt he casually tossed my way. I closed the box and pushed it back. Lucas frowned. “You don’t like it?” I nodded, meeting his eyes. “No. It’s cheap, and I’m not interested.” I used to be a different woman. I’d worried about his earnings and happily accepted any small token he offered. I’d even pretended a bag of fruit he bought on the street was a grand gesture. But that was before I knew he was lavishing jewelry on another woman while being utterly stingy with me. In five years of marriage, I didn’t own a single piece of real jewelry from him. Seeing my rejection, Lucas grabbed the small box and hurled it against the wall. The fragile case shattered, spraying the cheap jade onto the rug. “I work my ass off to support you! And you walk around giving me that face every damn day! Am I supposed to kiss your feet? You’re a curse, Harper!” Lucas pointed at me, his face twisted in a snarl. “Since you want to be so dramatic, fine. I’m done. I’m not coming back. You can live alone.” I watched him put on his jacket and walk toward the door. Just as his hand reached the knob, I spoke. “Lucas.” He stopped abruptly. He turned back, the rage instantly replaced by a look of forced calm. “See? Why make a scene? You didn’t like the gift, right? Fine, I’ll take you shopping. We’ll buy something better.” He strode back into the room. “Now, go make some dinner. And pack a portion for Savannah. She said she was craving your lentil soup.” He was talking, rambling on, not listening to a word. I waited until he ran out of breath. “Lucas,” I said softly. “When you said you were going to divorce me earlier, were you serious?” He froze, then let out a cold laugh. He tossed his jacket onto the sofa. “What are you saying, Harper? You want to divorce me?” “You’re still upset about Savannah taking the Deluxe Wing, aren’t you?” he went on, not waiting for an answer. “I promised her that suite. I’m not going back on my word for you. If you can handle it, then stay. If you can’t, then we’re getting divorced!” 3 I was about to agree, but Lucas spun around and walked out, slamming his foot against a single armchair near the door. The loud thud woke my daughter. I rushed back to the nursery. I was determined to get divorced, but every time I contacted Lucas to discuss the arrangements, he was unreachable. I finally saw him on the day I moved out of the recovery suite. He was helping Savannah move her things. Two nannies followed him, pulling 26-inch suitcases. Savannah was sitting in the back seat of a luxury SUV, shielded from the sun. I, meanwhile, was sweating, struggling to push and pull my own meager belongings. The contrast was stark. Yet, I felt nothing. Perhaps the certainty of divorce had given me a strange sense of euphoria. Savannah waved. “Harper! Going home today too?” “Why don’t we just give you a ride? You don’t have much stuff, you won’t take up any space.” She sighed dramatically. “It’s all Lucas’s fault. I was only here for thirty days, but he bought me a year’s worth of clothes. Now I’m exhausted from packing.” She spoke with a false tone of complaint, her eyes sparkling with pride and display. I ignored her. The dull ache in my abdomen returned. I fought through the sharp stab and loaded my bags into the taxi trunk with the driver’s help. Before getting into the cab, I looked at Lucas, who hadn’t spoken a word. “Be home tonight. I need to talk to you.” Ten minutes later, Savannah’s new post popped up on my feed. It was a photo of a property deed. The caption was bold and exaggerated: A Childhood Sweetheart trumps a Husband. With my Lucas, I’ll always have a place to call home. #NewBeginnings #BFFs I stared at the bright red deed for a long time. The feeling in my stomach was not bitterness, but a deep, cold irony. Lucas and I had met in college. Everyone said we were meant to be. Later, I’d chosen to move to the city to help him start his business. We could only afford a damp, cramped basement apartment. I got terribly sick in that awful environment, running a high fever. Lucas, that big, tough man, had knelt beside the bed and cried. He’d sworn that every house we ever bought, every deed, would have my name on it. Men’s promises, apparently, were just smoke. I screenshotted Savannah’s post and sent it to my lawyer, asking if I could use it to claim the house. That night, Lucas didn’t come home. I didn’t care. My daughter cried for three hours because of the change in environment. The pain in my abdomen started up again. I crouched down by her crib until the pain subsided. The next morning, I asked my elderly neighbor, Mrs. Davis, to watch the baby and went to the hospital alone. The doctor’s expression was serious. “Ms. Vance, you have a tumor on your abdomen. We don’t know if it’s benign or malignant yet, but given the time you’ve been experiencing pain, it’s growing rapidly. I recommend scheduling surgery as soon as possible.” I left the hospital and sat on a bench, my trembling hands clutching the medical report. As my fingers gradually steadied, I looked down at the diagnosis. I made a decision. I was about to text the doctor when a voice called my name. I looked up. It was Tess, the wife of one of Lucas’s business partners. “Harper! What are you doing out here? It’s freezing! Come up, Lucas and the guys are having a get-together upstairs.” She was loud and warm, pulling me up with a force that allowed no refusal. 4 I decided not to resist. This was as good a time as any to discuss the divorce. The private room was loud, full of excited shouts and laughter. The moment I pushed the door open, I saw Lucas and Savannah interlocking arms, drinking a shot of whiskey. A dozen people cheered them on. “That’s too easy!” someone yelled. “Lucas, hold Savannah and do a kiss-and-shot!” Savannah blushed, and Lucas made a show of playfully resisting. I watched, an icy detachment settling over me. Then Savannah saw me standing in the doorway and feigned surprise. “Oh, Harper! Did you come to spy on us? Seriously, you have to give a man some space. Who could live like that?” Lucas frowned, his voice cold. “What are you doing here?” I stopped the person next to me who was trying to explain on my behalf. My gaze lingered on Lucas and Savannah, and a slow smile spread across my face. “If I hadn’t come, Lucas, how would I have known the kind of games you two play behind my back?” “Harper, are you insane?!” Lucas roared. Savannah defiantly lifted her chin, ensuring I saw the dazzling, purple-hued bracelet on her wrist. I knew instantly it was Lucas’s latest gift. Someone in the room shouted, “Finish the shot!” Savannah quickly poured two more, handed one to Lucas, and held the other. She looked at me. “You’re not jealous, are you, Harper? It’s just friends having fun.” My expression was calm. I spoke only to Lucas. “If you drink that, we are done. There is no going back.” Lucas’s response was to immediately scoop Savannah into his arms. “Don’t embarrass yourself, Harper. It’s a shot. Who are you threatening?” Then, they both intertwined arms and drank. The room erupted in applause. “That’s our Lucas!” “A real man!” I watched their intimate posture, their intertwined hands, and the last fragments of my heart turned to stone. The long-suppressed rage welled up, too violent to contain. I grabbed the heavy ceramic teapot filled with scalding hot Earl Grey and hurled it at them. “Agh!” Both screamed. Savannah, her face distorted in a grimace of pain and fury, lunged and pushed me hard. “You psycho!” My abdomen slammed into the corner of the table. A fire erupted where the tumor was. The agonizing pain stole my breath. Before I could get up, Lucas grabbed a handful of my hair and dragged me across the floor until I was kneeling in front of Savannah.

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I was getting a manicure when Rhys’s ninety-ninth mistress cornered me. She slapped an ultrasound image down on the marble countertop. “You’re Rhys Blackwell’s wife, right? I’m pregnant. You need to file for divorce now.” I glanced at the grainy printout, then skillfully pulled out a stack of documents—evidence of her own extracurricular activities—and slid them across to her. Her attitude executed a perfect 180-degree turn. She tore up the ultrasound. “I’ll leave Rhys immediately!” I admired my fresh manicure. Blood-red, it had taken eight hours of meticulous work. A minute later, I told the manicurist, “Take it off.” I had a certain kind of “fierce battle” scheduled for the evening. This color wouldn’t give me the range of motion I needed. Since marrying Rhys, I have either been dealing with one mistress or on my way to dealing with the next. I’d long since become the city’s favorite joke. People in the social circles would greet me with a smug, knowing look, asking for the secret to spotting an affair. The truth? I didn’t care that Rhys found mistresses; I cared that those mistresses tried to lay claim to the Blackwell fortune. Besides, every time I caught one, Rhys would unconditionally grant me one demand. This time, I chose a child. 1 “What do you want this time?” I’d barely stepped through the front door when I heard Rhys’s lazy voice. I looked up. He was stretched out languidly on the sofa, long arms open, waiting for my response. I slipped into my house shoes, walked over, and said with careful sincerity, “A child.” “I want a child, yours and mine.” His narrow, foxy eyes studied me, a trace of genuine interest flickering across his face. He patted his thigh. I moved to sit, and his arm clamped around my waist, pulling me hard. I tumbled into his embrace. Gazing at his devastatingly handsome face, I leaned in and kissed him. When the intensity peaked, he exerted a savage force while his voice was ice-cold. “Don’t you dare try to use a baby to trap me like all the other women.” “Even if you bear my child, I could never love a woman who was shoved down my throat!” He drove into me, frantic and brutal. I winced, biting back the cry of pain that threatened to escape. I don’t know how long it was before a phone call tore him away. I lay in bed, taking long, ragged breaths, my hand resting on my flat stomach. What I wanted had never been that pathetic, conditional kind of love. Rhys Blackwell was notorious—the infamous, spoiled scion of the city’s elite. Wealthy families warned their daughters away from him. Even over thirty, Rhys remained a delinquent playboy. The Blackwell parents were distraught. With no other option, they looked to “socially downward” prospects. After layers of filtering, I—a poor, high-achieving university student with no family to speak of—entered their sights. They only needed a woman who was compliant, sensible, and capable of keeping Rhys in line. I acted the part perfectly: obedient, understanding, gentle in my care for Rhys. I was meticulous, seemingly humble, and just strategic enough to offer a few well-placed, high-EQ comments that satisfied the elder Blackwells. Even with Rhys’s vehement opposition, I was installed by his side. I became the notorious Mrs. Blackwell—the butt of everyone’s jokes. After that, Rhys only got worse, sometimes juggling three mistresses at once. He constantly fed the gossip columns. As his wife, I had to assume the responsibility of damage control. Once, his reckless partying caused a major issue for the Blackwell Group, and after a severe dressing-down from his parents, he backed off slightly. That incident was the start of my plan. I began my careful, step-by-step strategy. Initially, my demands were trinkets—jewelry, designer bags. Then, expensive cars and apartments, reinforcing the illusion that I was nothing more than a grasping, materialistic woman. When I’d ticked off enough conditions, I graduated. It was a seamless transition to a role within the Blackwell Group, using my own skill set, amplified by the prestige of being Mrs. Blackwell, to climb the corporate ladder. Ding-dong. Rhys’s hundredth mistress sent a provocative message. A classic catfight challenge, every sentence designed to provoke me, Mrs. Blackwell, into a dramatic breakdown. I typed a couple of nonchalant sentences in response, turned off my phone, and walked into the bathroom. I could play the jealous wife’s game easily, but I would never immerse myself in such a pointless contest. What I wanted was to stand at the peak of power. Once I carried the Blackwell heir, the elder Blackwells’ indulgence of Rhys would curdle into resentment. And they would begin to cultivate the child in my belly— The new successor. 2 My in-laws had been pressuring us for a grandchild for years. So when I asked for a baby, Rhys didn’t put up much of a fight. He was a man who loved to play. As long as I initiated it, he was happy to indulge in a session in bed. But every single time, the moment we were done, he would be called away by a woman on the phone. This time, the call came mid-session. The sound of his phone ringing shattered the atmosphere. He froze, then carefully, gingerly, picked up the phone. I don’t know what the mistress said. Rhys pulled away from me, dressed, and walked out. This had never happened before. In the past, even when his mistresses called, he would put them on speaker. He would be driving into me on one side, while enjoying my pained expression as he whispered crude jokes into the phone to the woman on the other end. The woman would pout and feign offense on the line. He would mock me, saying he could never love me, that I was just a domestic obligation. I had listened to variations of that speech for five years. Now, this hundredth mistress had managed to make Rhys halt what he was doing and rush to her side. She had some kind of power. Ding-dong. The mistress’s text popped up: [Rhys really loves me. He ran right to me after one phone call.] [If you have any sense, agree to the divorce immediately. Stop clinging to him.] I chuckled quietly: [How can you be so sure he loves you? The last time I checked, he was still forcing himself on me just moments ago.] Silence from the other end. She must have been fuming. Getting angry over that? The position of Mrs. Blackwell was not so easily earned. Of the ninety-nine mistresses before her, how many hadn’t I personally seen? Rhys used to make me run errands, sending me out late at night to buy contraceptives. If we got carried away and forgot protection, he’d instruct me to make sure his mistress took the morning-after pill. Rhys had a gift for turning the knife. I’d send one mistress away, and he’d find another one immediately. Then he’d toss me a consolation prize—a diamond, a trust fund deposit—just to keep me from reporting him to the in-laws. But his actions never truly cut me. And naturally, I never considered reporting him. The more chaos he created, the more beneficial it was for me. Seeing the faint second line appear on the pregnancy stick, I immediately went to the doctor. Upon confirmation of the pregnancy, I told my in-laws first. Overjoyed, they invited Rhys and me to the family estate for a congratulatory dinner. That night, a heavy snow began to fall. The winter wind was an icy knife. Halfway there, Rhys took a call from his mistress: “Ah! Rhys, help me…” The line cut out. He slammed on the brakes, turning to me with an urgent growl, telling me to get out. I glanced over at his sharply chiseled face. A look of genuine panic and deep concern was etched there. This was a look I’d never seen for any of the previous ninety-nine women. He was serious. He was emotionally invested in this Skylar. When I didn’t move, he raised his leg. His long, strong leg effortlessly kicked open the passenger door, and he shoved me out of the car. “You go alone!” He spat the words out in a rush of anxiety, then floored the accelerator, driving toward Skylar’s apartment. I’d done my research on Skylar. She came from a difficult background. She had a younger brother, and her parents strongly favored him. She worked in a bar from a young age and had met Rhys during a drunken one-night stand. In front of Rhys, she was harmless and innocent, a doll-faced girl whose eyes were always brimming with tears. She always managed to look so pitiful and vulnerable. Her eye sockets were perpetually rimmed with a faint red. But behind his back, she often cursed me out. 3 It wasn’t a long distance to the estate. I considered walking. After all, in our five years of marriage, this was the first time I’d been literally thrown out of a moving vehicle. I took two steps and stopped. I was pregnant. For the sake of the child in my belly, I couldn’t risk it. I called the in-laws, crafting a perfect excuse for Rhys. I said he had been called away on an urgent corporate matter and that I couldn’t get a taxi in the snow. Of course, the Blackwells didn’t believe me. They knew their son’s character too well. I arrived at the estate less than ten minutes later. After the family doctor examined me and confirmed the pregnancy, the genuine smiles on the in-laws’ faces multiplied. “Five years, and we finally have a grandchild, Sienna,” my mother-in-law, Eleanor, said. “As for Rhys, you know what he’s like. Don’t hold it against him.” “You are carrying the Blackwell heir now. Once the child is born, he’ll naturally focus his attention on the family.” Rhys’s attention would never return to me. But I didn’t care. I responded with quiet obedience. Their concern was gentle. They insisted I stay at the estate. A dedicated nutritionist was put in charge of my meals. A top-tier housekeeper handled my daily needs. Meanwhile, Rhys… Because I was pregnant, Skylar was upset. She threw a massive tantrum that lasted for days. In the past, Rhys would have dumped any mistress who caused such a fuss. This time, Rhys broke all precedent. He abandoned his work and took Skylar on a trip overseas, pulling out all the stops to appease her. The surveillance photos showed them strolling romantically on a remote island, dancing and kissing on a yacht. He was even confronted by Skylar’s parents. Rhys used his influence and money to legally separate Skylar from her family—he bought out the relationship for $200 million. It was straight out of one of those cheesy billionaire romance novels I used to see. The billionaire handles all the heroine’s problems, defies his wealthy parents, and they live happily ever after. Unfortunately, life is not fiction. Money can’t sever blood ties; it only nourishes the greedy appetite. I wasn’t idle during this time. I continued to help Rhys manage the corporate expenses he’d charged to the company books, and I steadily climbed the corporate ladder in my own right. My ambition was clear, written on my face. I repeatedly used my own savings to buy incriminating photos from paparazzi, hiding them away. My in-laws kept a close eye on me, too. They noticed my furtive behavior and rushed in, suspecting an affair, only to discover I was collecting the evidence of Rhys’s indiscretions. My mother-in-law looked at me with a sliver of genuine emotion in her eyes. “You’ve been covering up Rhys’s messes all these years. You’ve worked too hard, Sienna.” I offered a slight smile. “Mom, it’s a daughter-in-law’s duty.” She patted the cushion beside her, signaling me to sit. She gripped my hand. “You don’t need to worry about these things anymore. Your father-in-law and I can handle it.” “Just focus on your pregnancy, and forget the office. The most important thing is for our grandchild to be born healthy.” Leaving the company meant severing my access to internal information. Impossible. I pursed my lips. “Mom, I know my limits; I won’t jeopardize the baby’s health.” “I love my work… If I stop, I’m afraid I’ll just brood and overthink.” My mother-in-law stared at me for a moment, then silently transferred $1 billion into my account. They had always been generous. They regularly transferred money to my account, usually a million at a time. I rarely needed the funds and had accumulated tens of millions. $1 billion was unprecedented. It confirmed my gamble had paid off. I thanked her, smiling sweetly for her affection. After she left, I stared at the sum, then immediately donated the entire $1 billion to a national youth education fund. My hand rested gently on my growing belly. I wanted more than this ten-figure check. I wanted the entire Blackwell Group. Power was the sweetest kind of relief. 4 When Rhys returned and learned I was staying at the estate, he moved Skylar into our marital home immediately. The housekeeper there told me Skylar hated my scent. She threw out all the scented candles and diffusers. Any object associated with me was coldly discarded by Rhys. The entire house was then doused in the cloying, heavy scent of cheap orange perfume. The housekeeper once complained to me: “Ma’am, it’s a terribly low-quality perfume, but the master insists on her wearing it, even if it stings his nose.” My belly grew larger each day. I still moved through the corporate offices. The elder Blackwells’ increasing trust meant I gained importance within the company. Coupled with my own competence, I successfully shielded the company from several high-stakes financial and reputational battles. I began to touch the core layers of the business. Rhys, in contrast, grew increasingly indifferent to his work. His obsession with Skylar intensified, reaching a point where he disregarded the company’s interests. Every time Skylar’s family created a scene, he’d dip into the company coffers. His constant pampering only fed the Su family’s greed. His spoiled, immature, and irresponsible use of corporate funds became a testament to their love. He even forced Skylar’s relatives into roles within the company. All because Skylar had once said, “But he’s my brother.” Even when her brother committed a serious infraction and I had him cornered for termination, Rhys would only snap impatiently: “Can’t you stop targeting Skylar for once?” I was always compliant. I naturally listened to my husband and stopped “targeting” her. He retaliated by assigning Skylar—who knew nothing—to be my personal secretary. Skylar was utterly clueless. She couldn’t keep up with my pace and didn’t understand half of what I said. The moment I spoke, her eyes would turn red, and she’d run to Rhys to cry without saying a word. Rhys would then burst into my office and angrily lash out at me, a heavily pregnant woman. With Skylar’s “help,” the company successfully lost several major contracts. Rhys, however, blamed my incompetence, ordering me to hurry home and focus on my pregnancy. I quietly endured it. As I neared my due date, Skylar grew visibly anxious. She tried to find ways to cause a miscarriage several times. When I repeatedly evaded her schemes, she finally lost control and violently shoved me. The impact sent me into early labor. I gripped my abdomen, crying out in pain as bright, fresh blood flowed down my legs. I looked at Rhys, my husband in name only: “Rhys, the blood, our baby…” He shielded her behind him, his face a mask of cold indifference. “The child can be replaced. Who told you to bully Skylar? You deserve it!” “No one help her!” Skylar peeked out from behind Rhys, an expression of triumph directed right at me. She intended to let me bleed out and lose the baby. But I had already prepared. My in-laws took my pregnancy very seriously. The house was riddled with their loyal security staff. Seeing me fall, they frantically rushed to my side, desperately trying to get me to the hospital. Skylar tried to block the elevator, stopping them from helping. Without a second thought, the men shoved Skylar aside, smacking her face, and hurried to get me to the hospital. Their employers were the Blackwells—the baby’s grandparents. Not Skylar. They understood the hierarchy perfectly. When the Blackwells heard the news, they rushed over, demanding Rhys immediately cut off all ties with Skylar. Rhys, however, knelt openly before them. “Mom, Dad, I’m serious about Skylar!” “She’s the only one I want.” “Anyway, you have the child you wanted now. I’ll divorce Sienna once she gives birth, marry Skylar, and let Skylar raise the baby.” As the loud, sharp cry of a newborn split the hospital air, I knew it then. Rhys was finished.

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I took Chloe Vance’s title as the “It Girl” of the upper east side, and even her devoted admirer, Carter Sterling, fell for me. Carter spent three hundred million dollars at an auction just to light up the sky for me, leaving Chloe so angry she fell ill. A twenty-carat pink diamond was presented to me, and Carter, with his devilishly handsome face, looked at me with deep affection: “May I have the honor of being your date tonight?” I smiled and placed my hand on Carter’s shoulder, accompanying him to various high-end venues. We traveled the world, climbed snowy mountains, and bungee jumped from great heights. Just as my smile was at its brightest, Carter let go of my hand for the first time: “The Sterling family is a prestigious clan; they will never allow me to marry a girl from a humble background like yours.” “I truly love you, but I can’t marry you. I can buy you a villa and keep you, giving you a life of luxury.” He wanted me to agree to be his mistress. I feigned confusion: “You love me? Aren’t we just friends?” Chapter 1 Carter frowned. “Are you angry?” He rubbed his forehead helplessly. “It’s not that I don’t want to marry you, but the gap in our social status is too wide. You can’t expect me to break ties with my entire family just to marry you, right?” Ten minutes ago, Carter was gently praising me as the cutest fairy in the world. Ten minutes later, Carter completely changed his attitude. He let go of my hand with a tired look. “You should calm down and think about it. Contact me when you’ve figured it out.” Carter left without looking back, giving me no chance to speak. In the past six months, he had treated me like a princess, almost plucking the stars from the sky for me. To say I wasn’t sad would be a lie, but I knew what could be done and what couldn’t. I would never make the same mistake twice. My new phone number received harassment messages again: Baby, haven’t you had enough fun? At most half a month, I’ll come to pick you up. My hands trembled uncontrollably. I removed the SIM card and turned off the phone again. I didn’t leave the house for three days straight. Listening to his subordinate’s report, Carter’s brow smoothed slightly. “I thought she was really tough. I didn’t expect her to be so heartbroken she wouldn’t even go out.” “Carter, you’re the man. You took down the icy beauty Aria Stone in less than six months.” “The bet isn’t over yet. Aria Stone has to personally agree to be your mistress for you to win.” Familiar voices reached my ears, all from Carter’s close friends. Not long ago, they were affectionately calling me sister-in-law. Behind my back, they treated me as betting fodder. I knew these rich kids played games with life and didn’t take feelings seriously, and now I had experienced it firsthand. In high society, being someone’s mistress is the most shameful thing. Not to mention my father was a business partner of theirs. If I became Carter’s mistress, not only I but also my father and the entire Stone family would be looked down upon. They tried to push a woman into the abyss using her genuine feelings. It was despicable. Carter gently peeled a chocolate for Chloe Vance, his tone indifferent: “Aria is afraid of heights and the dark, yet she was willing to bungee jump and play escape rooms with me. I’ve won this bet for sure.” Another person laughed and added, “Who told her to steal Chloe’s spotlight? As the daughter of a nouveau riche, she should have stayed in her lane. The title of top socialite isn’t something she can dream of.” “Everyone knows the Crown Prince of the capital, Julian Thorne, is choosing a wife. Chloe has liked him for so many years, hoping to become the top socialite to catch the Crown Prince’s eye.” Carter’s eyes darkened. “Whatever Chloe wants, I’ll get it for her.” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but sneer. I thought Carter and Chloe were in love, which was why he played me to vent her anger. I didn’t expect Chloe to like someone else. Through the crack in the door, I saw Chloe leaning shyly on Carter’s shoulder. Carter claimed he only saw Chloe as a sister, but his eyes were filled with undeniable tenderness. “Carter, where is Aria Stone? I really want to eat blueberry cake.” I looked down at the blueberry cake in my hand and couldn’t help but smile sarcastically. My phone vibrated at that moment: Didn’t you say you’d be here soon? Are you here yet? Six hours ago, Carter specifically asked for blueberry cake from City A. I rushed back with the cake, only to hear this. Indeed, an ungrateful wolf can never be tamed, no matter how much effort you put in. I raised my hand and threw the cake into the trash can. The loud thud attracted the people inside. Carter instinctively pushed Chloe away and forced a smile as he walked towards me: “Why didn’t you say anything when you arrived?” He glanced at the cake I had thrown into the trash, showing no guilt but rather accusation: “Chloe was just feeling unwell and leaned on me. Why are you angry? Are you suspecting me?” Carter turned the tables, frowning. “I made Chloe sick with anger for you. She just recovered. Do you really want me to cut ties with all my friends in the circle for you?” Carter often used this rhetoric to make me feel guilty. But this time, I didn’t apologize immediately as before. Instead, I said calmly: “It’s your freedom to be friends with whomever you want.” Hearing this, Carter felt uncomfortable, but seeing my calm expression, he didn’t think much of it. He raised his chin arrogantly as usual. “It’s good that you think this way. Have you thought about what I told you before?” During the six months I was with Carter, I was almost obedient to him and never said no. Now, Carter thought I would compromise again. Before I could speak, Carter frowned again and said, “My mom is arranging blind dates tomorrow. They are all marriages between wealthy families. You won’t make a scene, right?” As soon as Carter said this, everyone else looked over with anticipation. Chloe gloated, “Women outside are naturally different from those arranged by Carter’s family. Sister Aria isn’t an unreasonable person; she wouldn’t make a scene like someone unrefined.” I didn’t speak, just looked at Carter calmly. Without my assurance, Carter looked impatient. He said coldly: “As long as you’re good, I’ll give you everything you should have. Cars, houses, or jewelry, I can give them all.” Actually, Carter didn’t need to give me anything. From the moment he said those words, I had completely given up on him. Just as I was about to refuse, Carter suddenly threatened, “If you still harbor thoughts of marrying into the Sterling family, don’t blame me for being ruthless. Your dad invested a lot of money in that project, right? If you don’t want him to go bankrupt and jump off a building, behave yourself.” I looked at Carter in disbelief, not expecting him to say such things. In the six months we spent together, even if he was arrogant and complacent, he never used his power to oppress others. This was the first time he showed his dark side. And it was the only chance I gave him. I lowered my eyes. “I won’t marry you.” Carter raised an eyebrow in surprise. Chloe and the others looked at each other, not expecting me to be so agreeable. In their imagination, I should be hugging Carter’s thigh, crying and begging to marry him. Carter clenched his fists unconsciously. Whether in terms of family background or appearance, he was top-tier. How could I not want to marry him? Suddenly, as if thinking of something, Carter laughed out loud: “Aria, are you playing hard to get?” I frowned in confusion, but Carter smiled and stepped forward. “Whether you’re playing hard to get or whatever, don’t come to the blind date banquet between me and the Princess of the capital tomorrow. Otherwise, I will break up with you completely and never see you again.” His tone hid a threat, and his eyes were full of frost. Some time ago, Carter and I had a fight, and he also threatened to break off relations and never see me again. At that time, I hadn’t gotten tired of playing with this young master of the Sterling family, so naturally, I coaxed him to reconcile. But now, I didn’t want to coax him anymore. I took a step back, my tone icy: “I won’t ruin your blind date with anyone. I’ll move out of the villa tonight. You can rest assured.” Carter’s friends whistled and jeered: “This canary has been tamed by you. She can watch you go on a blind date without crying or fussing.” “Tsk tsk tsk, calling her a canary sounds nice, but ugly words call it a mistress. In ancient times, it was called an outer room, hahaha~” I didn’t know how these people’s brains worked, misinterpreting my words as willing to be a mistress. Just as I turned to leave, Carter suddenly frowned and scolded coldly: “Shut up! Who allowed you to talk about Aria?” Everyone froze, and Chloe’s smile froze on her face. She tugged at Carter’s sleeve with a bitter smile. “The other brothers just misspoke. Why are you angry?” Carter didn’t pamper Chloe as before. His voice was slightly cold. “Talking about others to their face and embarrassing them, is this your upbringing?” At these words, Chloe couldn’t smile anymore. Carter was slapping her face, practically throwing the words “no upbringing” at her. Chloe glared at me jealously, turned to act coquettishly towards Carter, but was dodged sideways. Carter softened his tone and said to me, “I’ve scolded them. Don’t take those words to heart. I’ll come to see you after I handle the blind date tomorrow.” He took out a crudely made ring from somewhere: “I made this myself. You must wear it on your hand at all times.” There was an identical men’s ring on Carter’s hand. Obviously, this was a pair of couple rings. But I wasn’t moved. Giving a slap and then a sweet date was his usual tactic. How could I not see through it? Moreover, Carter defended me just now only because he classified me as his property. Those people mocking me was a slight to Carter’s face. I wouldn’t be so sentimental as to think Carter did this because he loved me. I didn’t want to take Carter’s ring, but he stubbornly put it on my hand. “Now that you’re wearing my ring, you can’t run away in this lifetime.” Hearing this, I frowned in discomfort. I took off the ring and handed it to Carter. He looked at me in surprise. “You don’t want it?” “Mm.” He didn’t take it, so I let go, letting the ring roll onto the ground. Carter’s eyes reddened slightly, and he gritted his teeth: “Aria, there’s a limit to being willful.” I ignored him and turned to leave. Carter kicked the coffee table angrily and shouted at my back: “Aria Stone, don’t regret this!” I paused, and he immediately smirked triumphantly: “It’s not too late to come back now, I—” The next second, I took off the couple necklace Carter gave me from my neck and threw it into the trash can. Bang! The sound of smashing things came from behind. I didn’t stop at all and walked straight out of the villa. I didn’t take any of the gifts bought during our sweet times, only my ID. Chapter 2 The next day, while I was dining at a restaurant, a plate of exquisite dessert was pushed in front of me. This was a dessert from a century-old shop in the capital; it shouldn’t be here. I looked up and met a pair of deep eyes. “Baby, you really made me look for a long time.” I pretended to be calm. “Didn’t you say you’d come for me in half a month?” Hearing this, the man’s thin lips curled up slightly, but a dangerous aura spilled from his eyes. Having been with him for many years, I could tell at a glance that Julian Thorne was in a bad mood. “It’s normal for you to love playing at your age, but that Sterling kid is too low-class. If you want to play, you can find me.” Julian loosened his tie, his tone casual but probing. I looked at Julian in surprise, not expecting him, who was always arbitrary, to say such things. You know, in the past, if I said one more word to another man, he would grab me and punish me severely. “Aria Stone?” A surprised shout interrupted my thoughts. Looking up, it turned out to be Carter and Chloe. Carter’s gaze fell on Julian, his face very ugly. Chloe instigated, “Sister Aria, you knew Brother Carter’s blind date location with the Princess was here. Why did you deliberately find a man to anger Brother Carter?” Carter looked at me disapprovingly. “Even if you want to act out of spite, there’s no need to find a gigolo to keep up appearances, right?” Julian raised an eyebrow at me, as if saying, “Is this the kind of trash you found?” I was embarrassed for a moment. “What gigolo? Don’t talk nonsense!” Chloe covered her mouth and snickered. “If not a gigolo, could he be the Crown Prince of the capital? He’s so handsome and wearing the latest suit. What else could he be but a gigolo selling himself?” “We know all the wealthy young masters and ladies in the circle, but we’ve never seen the one in front of you.” I was speechless. The circle Chloe spoke of was just Sea City. Of course, she hadn’t seen Julian from the capital. Just as I wanted to retort, Carter threw a bank card in front of Julian: “There’s a million in the card. Leave Aria Stone immediately. She’s not a woman you can touch.” Julian didn’t even lift his eyelids, just looking at me with interest. I picked up the bank card and stuffed it back into Carter’s arms: “He’s not someone you can dismiss with money. If you don’t want trouble, leave immediately.” Julian didn’t actively reveal his identity, so I couldn’t say anything on his behalf. If Carter had used his brain to think about what I said, he would have reacted. But he suddenly grabbed me angrily. “What, can’t bear to part with him?” Seeing him touch me, Julian’s face immediately darkened, and he raised his hand to grab Carter: “Let go.” Chloe glared at Julian angrily. “Brother Carter is going to marry the Princess of the capital. If you don’t let go, be careful that the Princess comes later and chops off your hand!” Other guests in the restaurant exclaimed in disbelief: “The Princess of the capital? The rumored hot-tempered and arrogant one?” “Carter is going to marry her? Isn’t that a powerful alliance?!” “I’m afraid this kid is going to suffer. The Princess is most protective of her own and can’t stand seeing her people bullied.” Julian frowned unhappily. “Princess of the capital? Marry your kind? Are you worthy?” Carter’s face flushed with anger at Julian’s words. “Whether I’m worthy or not is not for you to say!” “Brother?!” A familiar voice reached my ears. Sylvia Thorne walked towards us, lifting her skirt. Carter softened his face the moment he saw Sylvia’s sweet appearance. He smiled and said, “Sister Sylvia, you should call me by my name.” Chloe also stepped forward to compliment with a smile, “Sister Sylvia, you’re finally here. We’ve been waiting for you for a long time—” Her words were interrupted by Sylvia throwing herself into my arms. Carter and Chloe opened their mouths in shock, their faces full of disbelief. Sylvia said unhappily to Julian, “It took you six months to find Sister-in-law after she ran away from home. Brother, your efficiency is too low!” Carter subconsciously shouted, “What did you say? What Sister-in-law?” Julian pulled Sylvia away from my arms, put his arm around my shoulder, and said matter-of-factly: “Sylvia Thorne, my sister. Is there a problem with her calling my wife Sister-in-law?” Sylvia held my hand affectionately, ignoring the other two completely. This pair of siblings, cold as ice in the eyes of outsiders, only had eyes for me at this moment. Chloe’s face changed drastically. “You are the Crown Prince of the capital, Julian Thorne?! Impossible, he’s not married at all. Where did a wife come from?” Carter’s face was very ugly. He gritted his teeth and asked Sylvia: “This should be just your cousin, right? Your biological brother is busy with everything; how could he appear here?” Chloe also suddenly realized. “That’s right, Sister Sylvia. Your Thorne family is flourishing; there must be many brothers and sisters.” Chloe glared at me hatefully and provoked, “This Aria Stone is the daughter of a nouveau riche. She loves to cling to the powerful. Now that she’s hooked up with a branch of your family, she might be dreaming of marrying into a wealthy family.” Sylvia looked at the two as if they were idiots: “He is my biological brother. What nonsense are you talking about?!” Carter stared at me, gritting his teeth and questioning: “Aria Stone, shouldn’t you give me an explanation?” In the past six months, except for Carter actively pursuing me for half a month at the beginning, I was the one who sought him out almost all the time. Carter, who had been pampered for six months, couldn’t accept the fact that he was abandoned by me. He looked at me with red eyes, as if I were a scum woman playing with feelings. Seeing Carter’s accusatory expression, I couldn’t help but frown and ask back: “What explanation do I give you? Do we have any special relationship?” Carter only intended to play with me from the beginning, and I knew it well. We are all adults; the process just needs to be happy. Moreover, Carter didn’t lose out in these six months. What face does he have to question me? Hearing my words, Carter’s eyes instantly turned scarlet. “You are my woman!” He stepped forward to grab me, but Julian protected me in his arms and looked at him coldly: “Carter Sterling, you’d better watch your words.” I wanted to struggle, but Julian gave me a warning look. Seeing that I was behaving, he said: “Aria loves to play. She ran away from home after quarreling with me six months ago. You were just a playmate when she was relaxing. Nothing special, understand?” Julian’s volume wasn’t loud, but his aura was full. Carter was an heir cultivated by a prominent family after all. How could he not hear the hidden meaning in Julian’s words? This was clearly calling him a plaything not worth looking at, telling him not to entangle too much. But Carter was used to being arrogant; how could he let it go like this? Chloe watched this scene with trepidation, raising her hand to grab Carter’s sleeve and advising: “Brother Carter, forget it. Uncle Sterling still has a ten-billion project under the Crown Prince. Don’t be too impulsive.” She turned her head and looked at Julian coquettishly: “Actually, I didn’t want to say it, but I really can’t bear to see you deceived by such a promiscuous woman.” “Aria Stone must have told you that she and Brother Carter are just friends, but in fact, they slept together long ago. In the past six months, they have been inseparable every day, just like a married couple—” Hearing the words “married couple,” Julian instantly flew into a rage and choked Chloe’s neck. “Who allowed you to fabricate stories about her?” Sylvia immediately took two steps back, winking at me frantically. Dragons have reverse scales; touching them means death. I am the reverse scale for Julian. He can’t stand anyone belittling or hurting me. Carter wanted to stop him but dared not step forward due to Julian’s power. He only gritted his teeth and said: “Chloe just misspoke for a moment. For the sake of the Sterling family’s multiple collaborations with you, please let it go.” Julian sneered. “What face does your Sterling family have in front of me?” “If it weren’t for Aria wanting to play with you, your Sterling family would have gone bankrupt countless times.” Chloe was strangled until her eyes rolled back, and people around looked over in fear. “I heard long ago that the Thorne family in the capital has a history of mental illness in the family. Is the Crown Prince going to strangle this woman to death on the spot?” “Having mental illness means no jail time for killing someone. Chloe Vance really kicked an iron plate this time.” “Powerful and mentally ill, what’s the difference between this and an emperor?” Carter broke out in a cold sweat belatedly and could only look at me for help. I didn’t want Julian to kill anyone, so I could only grab Julian’s hand and beg, “I’ll go back with you. Let Chloe go.” There were many people in the restaurant. I indeed didn’t like Chloe, but not to the point of watching her be strangled to death by Julian. Moreover, Julian treated me very well, just a bit paranoid. Julian looked at me deeply and finally let go when Chloe was about to expire. Sylvia looked at me with lingering fear and whispered, “Sister-in-law, only you can persuade my brother.” After being saved, Chloe’s first reaction was actually to stare at me with resentment and jealousy. Seeing this, Carter felt displeasure towards her for the first time. In his eyes, Chloe had always been weak and kind. Even knowing that he approached Aria Stone to vent her anger, she had been speaking up for Aria. But Chloe’s actions today were different from before. Carter’s gaze fell on me again, his throat dry: “Thanks.” Julian pulled me away without saying a word, and Sylvia followed closely behind. I thought the matter ended there, but my phone suddenly received a message: You spoke up for Chloe just now. I’m really grateful. I know you don’t love Julian Thorne, just forced by his power. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have left him for me. As long as you are willing, I can elope with you. Carter stared at the phone, longing for my reply. Chloe clutched her chest, trying hard to breathe. After calming down, she looked at Carter aggrievedly: “It must be Aria Stone who said something to the Crown Prince; otherwise, how could the Crown Prince have been so heavy-handed with me?” “Brother Carter, I feel so bad. I really like the Crown Prince. Help me.” She cried like a pear blossom bathed in rain, but Carter just gently brushed her hand away. “You said you liked Julian for many years and always wanted to catch his eye, so I bet to teach Aria a lesson. But why didn’t you recognize Julian just now?” “Do you like Julian Thorne or his status as the Crown Prince?” Chloe was stunned for a moment. Just as she wanted to find an excuse, she was interrupted by Carter. “Enough, I don’t want to hear your sophistry.” Carter turned and left, giving Chloe no chance to speak. In Carter’s heart, Chloe was a simple and kind sister who didn’t covet power or play tricks. But everything that happened just now proved that he had misjudged her. Buzz. The phone vibrated. Carter picked up the phone ecstatically, thinking I must have replied to him. But when he saw the picture sent by the other party, Carter’s face instantly turned pale. It was a photo of a man and a woman kissing. Only a bit of the woman’s jawline was revealed, but having been together for six months, Carter recognized it was me at a glance. The intimate posture was impossible to ignore, not to mention the scratch marks on Julian’s neck. Heart aching as if cut by a knife, Carter’s hand holding the phone trembled slightly. The other party immediately sent a provocation: Aria and I got our marriage license long ago, just haven’t held the wedding. Now it seems the wedding needs to be put on the agenda; otherwise, some men will rush to be homewreckers and destroy other people’s families. Such sarcastic remarks left me speechless. Just now, as soon as the phone rang, Julian snatched it away with a cold face, insisting it was a message from a lover. I explained helplessly, “Where would a lover come from? I’ve cut ties with Carter completely.” But the next second, Julian coldly showed me the message. “Baby, he wants to elope with you. Should I break your legs or his legs?” Julian said this with a smile, but I instinctively shuddered. “Better break Carter’s.” Hearing this, Julian’s smile widened. “Correct answer. If you chose to hurt yourself to protect Carter, I would really go crazy.” Heaven knows how much Julian wanted to go crazy just now, but he forced himself to endure it. He told himself that this time he absolutely couldn’t scare me away. I looked into Julian’s eyes but accidentally saw a trace of fragility. Was he afraid… afraid of losing me? Julian took the initiative to hold my hand. “Baby, are you willing to hold a wedding with me?” Ten years ago, my father couldn’t take care of me because he was busy with the company. He fostered me at a relative’s house in the capital to study. I didn’t know why Julian inexplicably fell in love with me; I only knew that he had been following me since school days. Later, we naturally fell in love and got a marriage license on impulse. I wanted to go home and tell my father about this, but I didn’t expect to suddenly receive a confession from a male classmate. Julian was furious, clamoring to go home with me, and said no man was allowed to approach me. In a fit of anger, I threw down the divorce agreement and ran back to Sea City alone. Julian held me eagerly. “I really know I was wrong. Forgive me, okay?” My gaze fell on the man’s pitiful expression, and I deliberately teased, “Don’t you mind about Carter?” Julian’s tone was sour. “He’s just a hotel; I’m your home. Besides, I believe you were just playful and got distracted, right?” Since he put it that way, I couldn’t refuse. I could only nod. Sylvia, driving in the front, winked victoriously in the rearview mirror, holding the steering wheel happily. She kept sighing in her heart, indeed a thousand-year-old fox. Watching the sister-in-law for six months wasn’t enough; this time he deliberately let her contact Carter to destroy the relationship between the sister-in-law and Carter. Now acting pitiful to ask for status, simply amazing! But she saw through it without saying it. As long as her brother and sister-in-law were happy, what was acting in a play to her? Moreover, she really liked this sister-in-law. If she couldn’t beat her brother, she would want to stick with the sister-in-law every day. I realized belatedly that I had been trapped by Julian, but the words were already spoken, too late to regret.

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My adoptive father is a supervillain. My adoptive mother is the evil queen bee. To ensure I never got bullied, they taught me every dirty trick in the book. I took the best of their teachings, discarded the rest, and smoothly villain-ed my way through life until college. Then, my biological parents showed up to claim me. They found me with rainbow-dyed hair, pinning a delinquent to the ground and slapping him silly. “Do you want to be a eunuch or my boyfriend?” I demanded. My biological mother almost fainted. “Where is my sweet, soft, fragrant daughter?!” 1 My parents raised me with one core belief: There are two people in this world I must destroy. So, while other kids were being cuddled and watching Peppa Pig, I was in the basement learning how to snap a neck. My childhood had no Barbie dolls. Only Krav Maga, Muay Thai, archery, and tactical espionage. “Mercy to the enemy,” my dad would say, “is cruelty to yourself.” I was three years old when my mom found me in the trunk of a car. That day, her Maserati got rear-ended. The other driver was a thug. Even though he caused the accident, he jumped out and started screaming, demanding ten grand in cash. My mom laughed. She called my dad. He arrived and dismantled the man’s joints like he was taking apart a Lego set. The thug collapsed like a sack of mud, passing out from the pain. Dad wiped the blood off his hands and turned to leave, but then he heard a whimper from the trunk. Inside, curled up in a ball, was a chubby little girl. That was me. Dad stared at me, his brow furrowed in annoyance. He wanted to leave me there. But Mom scooped me up. “My friends on Instagram post their daughters every day,” she mused. “If I had a daughter, she’d be prettier than all of theirs.” So, she took me home. She was right. Her socialite friends fawned over me. Until one day, a blind rich lady brought her bratty son over. The kid sneaked up and kissed me on the cheek. Mom’s smile vanished. That night, she taught me my first lesson. “Next time someone touches you without permission, use a fork to stab their eye.” Dad added, “Go for the throat, too.” The next day, that family disappeared from our social circle. Mom blocked every “momfluencer” on her feed. I was a difficult child. Picky eater, cried a lot, got sick easily. A total princess. Mom would yell, “Eat or starve!” and “Stop crying or I’ll throw you out!” Then she’d immediately call five-star chefs. “Candied apples? What is that? Will it kill a child? No? Fine, get me one too.” “Cotton candy? Ugh, childish… wait, actually, buy a machine.” Dad was even more ridiculous. If I cried, he’d pull out a knife and growl, “Stop or I’ll chop you up!” But if I didn’t stop, he’d panic and throw the knife out the window. Eventually, all sharp objects were banned from the house. Every corner was padded with foam. One day, he discovered that riding on his shoulders made me stop crying. So, every night, this cold-faced CEO would come home, change, and gallop around the living room with a three-year-old on his neck, shouting, “Giddy up! Giddy up!” Mom rolled her eyes from the sofa. “Psychos.” Two weeks later, she joined in. 2 When I was five, I had a fever of 104. I was delirious, too weak to cry, just whimpering in Mom’s arms. The doctor pulled out a needle. Mom exploded. “That needle is huge! Are you trying to kill her?! Will it leave a scar?! She has to wear a bikini someday!” Dad grabbed the doctor by the collar, his voice like liquid nitrogen. “If she dies, you die.” The doctor’s hand shook so hard he almost missed my vein. That night, I woke up to see Dad sitting by my bed, eyes red. He held my tiny hand and whispered, “If you die, Mom and I… we don’t want to live either.” I later learned he almost demolished the hospital. On my sixth birthday, I was kidnapped. The ransom was ten million. Dad listened to the call in silence, then went to the bank and withdrew ten million in cash. The kidnappers kept their word and released me. But during the exchange, a man in a skull mask slapped me. My cheek burned. Tears streamed down my face. In a split second, Dad’s hand was around the man’s throat. “Which hand?” he asked, his tone conversational. Before the kidnapper could answer, Dad pulled out a dagger and started filleting his palm like sashimi. Mom stood nearby applying lipstick. “Too loud,” she complained, glancing at the screaming man. She snapped her fingers. Four men in suits emerged from the shadows. A week later, that kidnapper was found in a pink tutu, dumped in a slum in Mumbai. After that, my bedtime stories changed. Peppa Pig was replaced by Gray’s Anatomy. Sailor Moon became The Anarchist Cookbook. Dad would sit by my bed and coo, “Annie, do you know where to hit someone so it hurts the most but leaves no mark?” He guided my finger to his ribs. “Here. The liver. A sharp punch causes shock, but only leaves a tiny red dot.” Mom was more direct. She gave me a chemistry set. “Red is cyanide, blue causes paralysis, white causes amnesia…” She pinched my cheek. “Girls need to know how to protect themselves.” When I started elementary school, they remembered their old nemesis. They decided to poison his prize-winning bonsai tree and steal his pets. Before I arrived, they lost every battle against this rival. Their win rate was zero. But after I came along, they became undefeated. Mom called me their lucky charm. Their nemesis was a couple named Henry and Sarah. They were Mom’s ex-fiancé and the woman he left her for. Before they got married, Henry fell for Sarah, a bartender. Mom, scorned, pushed them together out of spite. “Why do you hate them, Dad?” I asked. He sighed. “Sarah spilled a drink on me once. Henry thought I was trying to steal his girl and tried to bankrupt me.” I nodded, sharpening my knife. Sworn enemies it is. In school, a fat kid sat behind me and pulled my braids. Mom spent thirty minutes every morning braiding my hair with pearls, and he ruined it. I warned him three times. The fourth time, I grabbed my stainless steel thermos. WHACK. His front tooth flew across the room. He wailed, blood leaking through his fingers. I stood over him, clutching a handful of his hair. The teacher’s voice trembled when she called my parents. “Annie… she knocked his tooth out… and slammed his head…” Thirty minutes later, Dad’s helicopter landed on the playground. He jumped out in a suit, ignoring his assistant chasing him with contracts. “Scram! My daughter committed murder! I need to bury the body!” Mom burst into the office with a sheet mask still on her face. “Who bullied my baby?!” The teacher cowered. “Actually, it was your daughter who…” Dad inspected my knuckles. “Does your hand hurt?” Mom checked my palm. “Ugh, his hair is so greasy. It made your hand red!” The fat kid’s parents tried to yell, but Dad threw a Black Card on the desk. “Dentist, hair plugs, therapy. Put it on the card.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “But if I hear your son touched a single hair on her head again… next time he loses more than a tooth.” The next day, my desk was an island. The fat kid transferred. Mom hummed as she braided my hair. “If anyone messes this up again, we’ll use their bones as hairpins, okay?” I sipped my strawberry milk and nodded vigorously. In high school, I suddenly became a genius. I got first place in every subject. My parents stared at the report card like it was a bomb. Dad: “Is this a misprint?” Mom: “Did she cheat? Should we hire a hacker to check?” 3 That night, a Taoist priest danced around my bed with a wooden sword for an hour. “Strange! Her soul is intact! She hasn’t been possessed!” I ate a popsicle and listened to them argue in the study. Dad: “I failed every subject!” Mom: “I bought my degree!” Dad: “The teacher says she can get into Ivy League!” Mom: “Ivy League? Sounds like a gardening club.” To stop me from “going astray,” they tried to distract me. Mom: “Annie, have you seen that idol show? You’re way prettier than them…” Dad left a book on my desk: How to Use Paparazzi for Fame. They offered to fund a movie for me to star in. I responded by showing them my Gold Medal from the Physics Olympiad. Mom dropped her fork. When my acceptance letter from Stanford arrived, Dad’s hand shook. “My daughter… a scientist?” They threw a banquet at a five-star hotel. Mom toasted everyone, “Oh, we just let her play around, who knew she was smart…” then hid in the bathroom to kiss my acceptance letter until it was covered in lipstick marks. Near the end of the party, Dad pulled me aside. “Bad news. Henry’s adopted son… also got into Stanford.” Mom snapped a nail. “That brat Liam? The math prodigy?” I spun the butterfly knife Dad gave me as a graduation gift. “So?” Dad sighed. “Annie, stay away from him.” Mom agreed. “Yeah, that family is bad luck.” I smiled sweetly. “Okay.” Psych. Sins of the father, punishment of the son. I was going to make Liam kneel and apologize for his dad’s existence. 4 First day of college. My parents were supposed to drop me off. But at dawn, Dad’s phone exploded. “Boss! Henry intercepted our arms shipment in Southeast Asia!” Dad smashed a vase. “That dog!” Mom wasn’t doing better. She was buying my shoes when Sarah walked in and said, “I’ll take these.” Then she smiled at Mom. “Sorry, if you like them, I can buy them for you?” Mom sent me a voice note, screaming. “I need her charity?! That bitch! Annie, go to school yourself! Mama needs to go rip her mouth off!” I sighed. “Don’t break a nail.” I dragged my suitcase to the dorms alone. On a tree-lined path, I bumped into a tall, lean guy. White shirt, black pants, cold profile. Handsome as a painting. I narrowed my eyes. Liam. He looked up. Our eyes met. He nodded politely and walked away. Liam became the campus god on day one. The confession wall was flooded with his photos. Reading in the library, playing basketball, drinking water. Comments: [Three minutes, I need his info!] [Back off, he’s mine!] I scoffed and checked the basketball schedule. The next day, I showed up at the court with a bottle of ice water. The girls screamed as Liam scored a three-pointer. I walked up to him, smiling like an angel. “Water?” The water was spiked with double-dose laxatives. Liam wiped sweat from his forehead, revealing abs. He looked at the water, then at me, and smiled. “Thanks.” Then, he unscrewed the cap… And poured it over his head. The water cascaded down his face, neck, and chest, soaking his white shirt. The crowd gasped. The girls went wild. “Scheming bitch! Trying to seduce him!” I turned to them, smiling. “Yeah, I am. Are you here for charity?” I grabbed a Gatorade from a random girl and dumped it in the trash. “We’re all foxes here, stop acting like bunnies.” I winked at Liam, and while he stared, I poured a second bottle of laxative water onto his limited-edition sneakers. “Oops. Slippery hands.” I walked away.

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1 In my last life, at my own birthday party, my wife Seraphina’s ‘best friend,’ Caleb, cornered me with a smirk and a glass of champagne. “Hey, Ash,” he’d said, his voice dripping with condescension. “Sera had a little too much to drink last night. I was the one who gave her a bath. Don’t take it personally.” I exploded. The fight that followed ended with me screaming for a divorce. To escape the nauseating pair, I agreed to walk away with nothing. I died alone in a dingy rental, succumbing to a sudden illness with no one by my side. After my death, Seraphina’s company went public. Her wedding to Caleb was the event of the season, a sensation that captivated the entire city. Everyone called them a match made in heaven. When my name came up, it was only with a dismissive sigh: “That man… he just wasn’t meant for good fortune.” I opened my eyes. I was back at my birthday party. Caleb was walking toward me again, the same taunt ready on his lips. This time, I didn’t get angry. I smiled. I reached for my best friend, Maya, who had come with me, and linked my arm through hers intimately. As Seraphina and Caleb watched in stunned silence, Maya turned to my wife, whose face had gone rigid, and gave her an innocent blink. “Oh, don’t be jealous, Sera. Ash and I go way back.” Her voice was light, playful, but carried a razor’s edge. “After all… I was his first.” The entire hall fell silent. Seraphina’s face was a canvas of fury, shifting from deathly pale to a mottled, ugly purple, finally settling on a shade so dark it seemed to bleed into the shadows. In that single moment, I felt the foundation of a decade of love crumble into dust. Her knuckles were white where she gripped her wine glass, the veins on the back of her hand standing out like cords. Her composure had shattered. Caleb’s smug expression froze, his face a patchwork of red and white. Maya’s casual remark had utterly demolished his pride. The whispers of the surrounding guests buzzed like a swarm of angry hornets. I kept my arm linked with Maya’s, a perfectly measured smile on my face. “Happy birthday, Sera.” I raised my glass to her in a mock toast, then downed it in one go. Seraphina didn’t move. Her eyes were daggers, promising a slow and painful death. I set my glass down and, taking Maya with me, turned to leave. “Asher!” The name was forced through her clenched teeth, each syllable burning with rage. I didn’t stop. A powerful hand seized my arm, yanking me back so hard that pain shot through my wrist. “Have you made enough of a scene?” she hissed, her voice low and laced with a chilling frost. I looked up at the face I had loved for ten years, a face so familiar it felt etched into my very soul. Now, it was twisted with nothing but fury and impatience. “Let go,” I said. “Come home with me. Stop embarrassing us here.” She tried to drag me toward the exit. Maya stepped between us in a fluid motion. Her hand shot out, grabbing Seraphina’s wrist. With a deceptively casual twist, she broke the hold. Seraphina yelped in pain and released me. “He doesn’t want to go with you, Ms. Sterling,” Maya said, her playful smile back in place, but her eyes were chips of ice. Seraphina shook her hand free and smoothed the wrinkled cuff of her blazer. She looked at me, her gaze overflowing with cold disappointment. “Asher, I thought you knew your place.” “Are you really going to let this… outsider… come between us?” I stared at her. An outsider? My gaze drifted past her to where Caleb stood, watching me with the smug look of a victor. “Seraphina,” I said, my voice perfectly calm. “Let’s get a divorce.” The air crackled and went still. She let out a short, sharp laugh, as if I’d just told the world’s most ridiculous joke. “A divorce? Asher, how many times have you used that threat? I’m telling you, don’t push your luck. You want a divorce? Fine. You walk away with nothing. Do you have the guts for that?” She was certain I didn’t. She was sure that the man she supported, the man who lived in her shadow, couldn’t possibly survive without her. In my last life, she was right. I had begged her to stay, and my tears only earned me deeper humiliation. But now… “Fine,” I said, looking her straight in the eye, the two words clear and sharp. The sneer on her face froze. She stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief, as if trying to process what she’d just heard. I didn’t give her another chance. “Maya, let’s go.” I turned my back on her. This time, she didn’t stop me. I could feel her searing gaze burning into my back until Maya and I disappeared through the ballroom doors. In the car, Maya broke the silence. “Are you sure about this?” “Yeah.” “She won’t let you go easily.” I watched the city lights streak past the window, blurring into long ribbons of color. “I know.” Back at the penthouse I shared with Seraphina, I didn’t waste a second. I started packing. I didn’t have much. A few sets of clothes, some professional books, and a few heirlooms my father had left me. Just as I was placing a locked rosewood box into my suitcase, the bedroom door opened. Caleb was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed. He was wearing one of Seraphina’s silk robes, the front open to reveal his chest. He looked every bit the man of the house. “Packing so late, Ash?” His eyes fell on my suitcase, his contempt unconcealed. “Sera sent me to check on you. She was worried you might do something stupid.” I ignored him and zipped the suitcase shut. He sauntered into the room and picked up a handcrafted brass spinning top from my desk. It was the first gift I’d ever given Seraphina, something I’d made for her myself in a metalworking class in college. She had loved it, always keeping it on her bedside table. “This little thing is so ugly,” Caleb said, fiddling with it, his fingers tracing its surface with casual disdain. Clatter. The top fell to the marble floor, a deep, ugly dent marring its surface. “Oops. My hand slipped,” he said, spreading his hands. There was no apology in his eyes, only the raw pleasure of provocation. In my last life, that would have sent me into a blind rage. I would have lunged at him. But now, I just glanced at the broken toy on the floor. Then I looked up at him and smiled. “It’s fine. It’s just trash I was going to throw out anyway.” Caleb’s smirk vanished. I walked past him, suitcase in hand, ready to leave. As I passed, I paused and leaned in close to his ear. My voice was a whisper, meant only for him. “Caleb, you know that cheap men’s cologne she wears sometimes? Guess how long it took me to get used to the smell of you on her?” The color drained from his face, leaving it a sickly white. I didn’t look at him again. I walked out of the home I had lived in for five years without a backward glance. The moment the door clicked shut behind me, I heard the sound of something inside being smashed violently against a wall. I settled into the apartment Maya had found for me. The next morning, my phone rang. It was my mother-in-law. The second I answered, her voice, shrill and accusatory, assaulted my ear. “Asher! What the hell were you thinking last night? Do you have any idea how much you humiliated our family?” “You ruined Sera’s birthday! Have you no shame?” I held the phone away from my ear, waiting for her to finish her tirade. “Are you done?” I asked calmly. There was a pause on the other end, as if she was shocked by my reaction. “What kind of attitude is that? You listen to me! You are going to go and apologize to Seraphina right now! And to Caleb! Caleb is a good kid, stop picking on him!” “We’re getting a divorce, Eleanor.” “What nonsense is this? A divorce? I forbid it!” Her voice was as sharp as a razor blade. “This is between Seraphina and me.” “Asher, don’t be an ungrateful fool! Who do you think you are? Without Sera, you’re nothing! Absolutely nothing!” I hung up. The world went quiet. A few moments later, a text message arrived. A notification from my bank. Every single one of my credit cards had been frozen. It was immediately followed by a text from Seraphina. “Let’s see how you like having no money, Asher. When you’ve had time to think, when you realize you were wrong, you can come crawling back to me.” The message ended with a single, imperious period. I deleted the text and opened a luxury consignment app. One by one, I listed the watches I had never dared to wear and the designer suits that had hung untouched in my closet. They were all things I had bought with my own money before the marriage. Now, they would be the seed money for my new life. That afternoon, I received a call from an unknown number. The caller identified himself as an organizer for the Aurora Gala, a high-profile charity auction. “Mr. Evans? Hello. We’ve been informed by Ms. Sterling that your VIP seat for the event has been canceled.” “Additionally, the tea set she submitted for auction, titled ‘The Dawn,’ she specifically requested that the artist credit be changed to Mr. Caleb Thorne.” I held the phone, silent for a few seconds. In my last life, this was the very tea set that launched Caleb’s career as a “design prodigy.” For Seraphina, the successful charity marketing stunt paved the way for her company’s IPO. No one knew that the true creator of the set was a long-dead master craftsman named Elias Vance. And I just so happened to be his last and only student. The Aurora Gala was the society event of the year. Seraphina had poured massive resources into it. She needed a flawless PR moment to elevate her company’s image and build hype for an upcoming product launch. Caleb’s debut as a “design prodigy” was the centerpiece of the whole spectacle. In my last life, I was locked away at home, forced to watch on the news as they took the stage together, bathed in the blinding light of flashbulbs. Seraphina had announced with magnanimous flair that all proceeds from ‘The Dawn’ would be donated to children in need. Caleb stood beside her, looking thoughtful and modest as he described his “creative journey.” They received a standing ovation. And I, like a rat hiding in the shadows, had watched it all, consumed by a helpless, burning jealousy. This life, I wouldn’t give them the chance. I didn’t contact the media. I didn’t try to find evidence. The best way to deal with arrogance is to let it be the cause of its own spectacular fall. I pulled out the design sketches my master, Elias Vance, had left me. Tucked into the last page was a yellowed letter. It was written to me shortly before he passed away. In it, he mentioned the proudest creation of his later years. A piece he loved so much he had never shown it to anyone, nor had he ever signed it. He described the tea set in meticulous detail, including the small, unique “V” mark he had stamped into the center of the teapot’s base using a special glaze. That tea set was “The Dawn.” I made a phone call. “Hello, is this Alistair Finch?” A gruff, elderly voice answered. “Who is this?” “My name is Asher Evans. I was the student of Elias Vance.” Alistair Finch was the country’s foremost art authenticator and one of my master’s closest friends. He was a man of rigid principles who despised nothing more than fraud and plagiarism in the art world. “Ah, Asher. What can I do for you?” “Mr. Finch, I need to ask for your help.” I didn’t go into detail. I only mentioned that a piece bearing a striking resemblance to Elias Vance’s style might be appearing at the Aurora Gala. “I just feel,” I said, my voice carefully measured, “that my master’s work shouldn’t be forgotten. And it certainly shouldn’t be stolen by a charlatan.” There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “I understand.” That was all I needed. On the night of the auction, I didn’t go. I stayed home and watched the live stream. On the screen, Seraphina stood under the spotlights, dressed in a tailored black suit, the picture of a powerful, competent executive. Beside her, Caleb was the image of gentle artistry in a white tuxedo. Behind them, on a massive screen, was “The Dawn.” The porcelain was as luminous as jade, the glaze soft and warm. When the light hit it, it seemed to glow from within, as if holding a piece of the morning sun. It was breathtakingly beautiful. “This set, ‘The Dawn,’ is the result of three years of dedicated work by Caleb,” Seraphina’s magnetic voice filled the hall. “It represents new beginnings and hope.” She looked at Caleb with an expression of pure admiration and affection. He nodded gracefully, playing his part to perfection. The room erupted in applause. The bidding began, and the price climbed rapidly, quickly soaring past seven figures. Just as the auctioneer was about to bring the hammer down, a figure rose from the front row. It was Alistair Finch. He leaned on a cane, his hair white, but his eyes were sharp and clear. “Ms. Sterling, if I may, a question for the artist?” Every eye in the room turned to him. Seraphina, who clearly recognized the titan of the art world, managed a polite smile. “Of course, Mr. Finch. Please.” “This tea set is, without a doubt, a masterpiece. However, the lines of the pot, the delicate curve of the cup’s rim… they are identical to the style of my late friend, the master craftsman Elias Vance.” His voice wasn’t loud, but the microphone carried it to every corner of the hall. “Mr. Thorne, may I ask who your mentor was?” 2 The color drained from Caleb’s face. He shot a panicked, pleading look at Seraphina, his lips trembling, unable to form a single word. Seraphina’s smile was frozen in place, a flicker of sheer panic in her eyes. “Mr. Finch, you must be mistaken. Similarities in design style are quite common.” “Are they?” Alistair’s gaze was sharp behind his glasses. “In his later years, Elias Vance perfected a ‘seamless body’ technique for firing thin-walled porcelain. It was a method he never shared with anyone. I’m curious, Mr. Thorne, where did you learn it?” A wave of murmurs swept through the venue. Every gaze shifted from the beautiful art on the screen to the pale, sweating face of the man on the stage. The camera flashes were relentless, like daggers trying to slash through his fraudulent mask. I closed the live stream, picked up my glass of red wine, and gave it a gentle swirl. The show was just getting started. The auction devolved into a complete farce. Alistair Finch’s reputation was unassailable; his accusation carried the weight of absolute authority. The “design prodigy” was exposed as a “plagiarizing fraud” overnight. The news was everywhere. Tycoon’s Secret: Charity Auction Rocked by Forgery Scandal, CEO’s Best Friend Accused of Design Fraud. Art World Titan Exposes Fake Genius on Stage. Seraphina’s company stock plummeted. Her meticulously planned PR triumph had turned into a PR catastrophe. I could only imagine the chaos she was dealing with. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before my phone rang. It was Seraphina. I let it ring. The ringing stopped, and a text message appeared. “Where are you? Get out here now!” It reeked of impotent fury. I typed out a leisurely reply. “Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Sterling? I believe we’re no longer associated.” Her reply was instantaneous. “This was you, wasn’t it? Asher, why would you do this?” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Are you happy now that you’ve ruined me?!” I looked at the words on the screen and smiled. Ruined her? No. I had simply reclaimed what belonged to my master. The person who had truly ruined her was herself, with her own greed and foolishness. I didn’t reply again. The next day, I went to the bank and withdrew all the money I’d made from selling my watches and suits. Then, I used it to register a business. A studio. I called it “Vance Heritage.” In memory of my master, Elias Vance. I was busy setting up the space when Maya arrived. She was carrying bags of food and a bottle of champagne. “A toast,” she said with a grin, “to the future of our great Mr. Evans.”

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My daughter has been missing for six years, and there has been no news of her. Late one night, I couldn’t help but go into her old room again. As I stared entranced at the portrait of her on the wall, I heard her crying coming from inside the wall. “Mommy, it’s so cold inside the wall.” 1 My heart skipped a beat. To explain this, I have to start with the crying I’ve been hearing late at night recently. Six years ago, ever since my daughter disappeared, it has been a sickness in my heart. But lately, I haven’t been able to sleep at all. I went to see a therapist. I wanted some comfort, but instead… The therapist looked at me seriously and asked: “Have you been sleepwalking lately? Touched anything unclean?” She made it sound so mysterious. I shook my head immediately. The therapist glanced at my husband, signaling him to leave the room first, saying she needed to do a psychological evaluation on me. But as soon as the door closed, she asked again. “Have you been hearing someone crying in your ear late at night recently?” I nodded. “It’s probably your daughter missing you.” I was shocked: “But isn’t she already…” “However, I must warn you to be careful of the people around you, especially…” I quickly interrupted her. “But… but what does my daughter’s disappearance have to do with the people around me?” Only at the end did I realize there was a hidden meaning in her words. Before I could react, she dropped another hint. “You know the saying ‘the darkest place is under the candlestick,’ right?” I nodded. “But my husband loves me so much… how could he…” “You probably have secrets you can’t tell anyone either, right? Probably even your husband doesn’t know!” I clenched my fists tightly. She added. “If you don’t pull out this thorn, you’ll only sink deeper…” Sink deeper into what? My daughter’s crying at night? The therapist was ambiguous. My daughter had been missing for six years. I had suspected neighbors, people in the community, even strangers on the street. But I had never suspected my husband, Arthur Thorne. Because it was impossible. “Believe it or not, it’s up to you.” After returning home that day, I started observing my husband quietly. I tested him from time to time. “Honey, Lily has been missing for so many years. Do you think she’s still alive?” My husband showed no abnormality; his hands didn’t even stop working. He looked at me calmly and said: “I hope so. But if she were alive, she would have come back to find us, right?” I glanced at him and said lightly: “Honey, I’ve been hearing our daughter crying late at night recently…” 2 Hearing this, Arthur looked up sharply, and the bowl in his hand smashed onto the floor. He grabbed my hand tightly. “Where… where did you hear it?” Our daughter “Lily Thorne”—her name has always been a taboo in our house. In the years she’s been missing, we tacitly agreed not to mention her. But subconsciously I knew she must be dead. I just held onto a “fantasy” about her. I still remember. When Lily first learned to walk, she limped. As she grew older, she stayed the same. Later, we went to the hospital and found out. She had congenital polio. This made our already struggling family even worse off. Arthur and I worried all night without sleeping. But we couldn’t think of a solution. We could barely put food on the table, and Arthur had lost his job… It seemed hopeless no matter what. But the next day, Arthur looked at me calmly and said: “Don’t worry, leave this to me.” I quickly asked: “How will you handle it?” He said impatiently: “Just stay out of it.” I stood there in disbelief, looking up and down at this honest man who had always been simple and never lost his temper with me. But he didn’t care at all. “Something that shouldn’t have been born in the first place, and a sick one at that. Besides being a bottomless pit for money, what’s the point of keeping it?” I was speechless with shock. Who would believe these words came from a man who loved his wife and child? “Do you… really think that?!” “Enough, stay out of it. I’ll do it. You won’t be involved.” I remember clearly that he sent me to the countryside overnight. When I returned, our daughter was gone. At first, I couldn’t accept it. After all, she was flesh of my flesh. Just gone like that. I had to find out. I questioned Arthur like a madwoman every day. Where did he take our daughter? Even just letting me take a peek at her from behind would be enough. But every time, Arthur would hold me tight. “Breathe deep. Yes, deep breath.” He said lightly: “It’s fate. I took Lily shopping that day, and she got lost in the blink of an eye. Maybe she’s enjoying a good life in someone else’s home.” Over time, I stopped asking. But fate seemed to play a huge joke on me. That day, inadvertently, I saw… In Arthur’s phone history, a search entry read— “How long does quick-drying cement take to set?” And the time was exactly the night I went back to the countryside! My scalp went numb instantly. I remembered the doctor’s words again. A terrible thought shuttled back and forth in my mind… I rummaged through the rooms like crazy, but found nothing. Right, there was one more room. Pushing open my daughter’s room again, everything was the same. Except there was a portrait of her on the wall that I hadn’t seen before. In the painting, she was smiling at me. This was the first time in all these years. Arthur laid his cards on the table about our daughter’s disappearance. He said: “No one wanted her, so I had to sell her.” I screamed at him hysterically. “Did you sell her? Or… bury her?” He looked up in shock, clenched his fists, and finally spat out two cold words. “Buried…” My scalp tingled with shock, and I broke down crying instantly. I didn’t expect him to admit it just like that! I couldn’t control myself; I grabbed a knife and slashed at him recklessly. As for where our daughter was buried? Neither Arthur nor I mentioned it, but he knew perfectly well! And I could vaguely sense it too. But from that day on, I had nightmares every day. Especially recently. I could always hear my daughter crying. Even the therapist told me to find the source. “If you don’t pull out this thorn, no one will have peace!” 3 Late that night. I heard my daughter crying again. She cried and said: “Mommy, it’s so dark in the wall. “Mommy, it’s so cold in the wall. “Mommy, why don’t you come find me?” I woke up in a cold sweat again. Since knowing what Arthur did, I never went into my daughter’s room again. And he added three locks to it. He said it was for my safety. I didn’t understand. What was unsafe about it! But this desolate crying seemed to have magic, dragging me to investigate. Because the rent was cheap, we rented the apartment furthest inside next to the stairs. And my daughter’s room was the innermost one. I went to the utility room to get some tools and a flashlight. I tiptoed to the door of the innermost room. But for some reason, I felt a chill on my back. Just as I hesitated whether to open the door, I heard that eerie yet desolate cry again. “Mommy, it’s so cold in the wall. “Mommy, come save me.” Hearing this, my heart skipped a beat. My hands moved faster involuntarily to open the door. One lock, two locks… finally, the door to my daughter’s room was opened again. To prevent my husband from finding out, I immediately locked the door from the inside. Unexpectedly, just as I stood firm, laughter rang out in the room. “Hee hee, come here, come here~ “Guess where I am.” Because of the unpleasant experience with Arthur last time. Although not explicitly stated, in the whole room, only that extra painting was weird. That portrait was nearly as tall as a person. I stared fixedly at my daughter’s face. But just taking a step. The painting tilted a corner visibly. And the daughter laughing heartily in the painting was shedding two lines of bloody tears… As if she wanted to climb out of the painting… I stepped back in fear. Rubbed my eyes quickly and shone the flashlight on the painting. Looked again. The portrait wasn’t tilted, and my daughter was still smiling… I tentatively called out softly. “Lily?” No response, dead silence around. It seemed I was overthinking. Probably psychological effects, seeing illusions. After comforting myself, I walked slowly towards the portrait. “Click, click, click…” One step, two steps, three steps… My daughter’s room had no windows, especially after she disappeared. My husband had the whole room sealed. It was pitch black around, not a trace of light, terrifyingly quiet. Only the beam of the flashlight illuminating my daughter’s smiling face. Eerie. I searched the whole house, leaving only my daughter’s room, and only here was there an extra painting. As if covering up something. If he wanted to hide something, then… Trembling, I yanked the painting open. But there was nothing behind it. Just as I planned to get closer and check carefully. A large patch of red liquid suddenly oozed from the wall. And a corner of a plastic candy wrapper. I knew that was Lily’s favorite! I backed away in horror. Although I had a premonition, seeing it with my own eyes was hard to accept immediately. I had to admit— My daughter wasn’t missing! She was sealed in the wall by Arthur! I broke down on the spot. Crying out of breath. “Let me out.” Suddenly, a cry came over. I immediately covered my mouth desperately, my heart in my throat. Lily? Impossible! Leaving aside being sealed in the wall for so many years, she would have become a dried corpse long ago! Even if it were just a few days, a person couldn’t be alive! But this crying was indeed Lily’s! Was someone playing a prank? But only Arthur and I knew about this. What exactly was going on? Before I could figure it out, scratching sounds came from inside the wall. As if desperately trying to crawl out… I sat on the floor in fright. Only then did I realize with a start, it definitely wasn’t my daughter inside! I struggled to run out. But my hands were trembling, and I couldn’t open the door locked from the inside no matter what. Suddenly, eerie voices filled the room. One after another, crying then laughing. “Mommy, don’t you want me anymore either? “Mommy, why did you come to find me so late? “Mommy, it’s so dark in the wall. “Mommy, I can’t breathe. “Mommy, it’s so cold in the wall…” Trembling, I tried to pry open the lock. But I couldn’t open it now! The voice that was far away just now suddenly seemed to be right in my ear… As if whispering against my ear, eerily. “Mommy, it’s so dark in the wall~ “Join me.” Terrified, I hugged my head and collapsed on the floor. I was cold all over, desperately clawing at the door. But something behind me seemed to be pulling me into the wall… My mind knew. But my body couldn’t exert any strength… Suddenly, I heard Arthur calling me. Using my last bit of strength, I scrambled out of the room. 4 In the middle of the night, I curled up at the foot of the bed, trembling all over. Arthur looked at the terrified me. No need to ask, he guessed most of it. With a dark face, he said: “I put three locks on it, and you still tried to be brave?” Calming down, I stared at him blankly. “Arthur, Lily is our biological daughter after all. We wronged her first. “Let’s hire someone to perform a ritual and bury her properly, okay?” Arthur looked surprised; he looked at me for a long time. Finally, he said impatiently: “What ritual? It’s all nonsense.” “But haven’t you heard our daughter crying lately?” He snorted coldly. “How superstitious have you become? “Just wait, tomorrow I’ll smash that wall!” Arthur disappeared early the next morning. Just as I was about to call him. The therapist called. She asked how I was doing lately. I didn’t tell her what I encountered last night. Thinking of someone pulling me into the wall fiercely. My scalp went numb instantly. So all these years my daughter was missing, she was actually sealed inside the wall of her room! How dared he! But logically, she should have weathered into a dried corpse long ago. But how to explain the series of strange events recently? I was afraid, but couldn’t break free. I went to the therapist again. The session took longer than ever. When I came back, it was already dark. But as soon as I opened the door, I was startled. Arthur stood before me, disheveled, with fear in his eyes. One look at him, and I knew. Bad news! He definitely touched our daughter’s room. I immediately grabbed his arm and stared at him fiercely. “Didn’t we say we’d hire someone for a ritual first, then bury her? Why did you…” But Arthur was obviously scared by something; he muttered. “I just, just wanted to confirm, who knew…” I immediately realized something was wrong. Panicked and red-eyed, I roared at him. “Who knew what?” Arthur’s hand trembled as he pointed to the innermost room. “Daughter… is… in her room!”

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I’ve died 30 times already. Every time, killed by a man in a black ski mask. I’ve struggled, ran, hid, even called the police. I’ve tried everything. Nothing works. I still die, right on time, at 2:40 AM. Finally, on the 31st struggle, I ripped off his mask. I never expected what stared back at me. A face that had aged a decade. My own face. 1 My name is Ethan Carter. I’m just a regular guy working the night shift at a convenience store. Couldn’t find a decent job after college, so I’m stuck here on the outskirts of town, barely scraping by. No family, no friends, not even a cat. Maybe that’s why nobody noticed I’ve died thirty times. The first time I woke up in the loop, I thought it was a nightmare. Until the searing pain of the blade dragged me back to reality. The second time, I tried to call 911. But the landline was dead, and my cell service vanished. The third time, I hid behind the shelves. The killer found me effortlessly, like he knew exactly where I’d be. The fourth time, I grabbed the biggest wine bottle I could find. He dodged it like it was nothing, and the blade still found my heart. Ten times. Twenty. Thirty. Each death was terrifyingly real. I tried everything: running out the front door (intercepted), hiding in the bathroom (dragged out), playing dead (stabbed anyway), even piling all the cash on the counter. He ignored the money and killed me. His movements were precise, professional. He knew every inch of the store like he’d rehearsed it a thousand times. This wasn’t a robbery. It was an execution. Why me? Why this store? Why do I have to die, over and over, only to wake up in front of the ice cream freezer? Tonight, the 31st loop, I decided on a different strategy. I’m going to memorize every detail. Every move. Every habit. If I can’t stop my death, I at least want to know why I’m dying. 2 Time ticked away, second by agonizing second. I stood by the freezer, forcing myself to breathe. The loop gave me one advantage: I knew the future. The killer would enter through the back door, take five steps to the corner aisle, eight steps to the register, then lunge straight for me. He had a slight limp in his right leg. An old injury? A habit? He always held the knife the same way: left hand in his pocket, right hand holding the blade low, edge down. A classic ambush stance. He never spoke. Never took the money. His target was always me. I pulled out the inventory log and scribbled these observations down, knowing the ink would vanish in the next loop. 2:39 AM. I shifted my position, standing to the side of the register instead of behind it. 2:40 AM. A faint click from the back door… He’s here. I held my breath, pretending to organize candy bars, keeping the back door in my peripheral vision. The shadow arrived on cue. Familiar footsteps. Familiar path. But this time, I saw more. A scar on his left wrist, visible when his sleeve rode up. He was my height, my build. But faster. More decisive. When he neared the register and saw I wasn’t in my usual spot, he paused for a split second. Now! I grabbed the fire extinguisher I’d prepped and blasted it in his face. He wasn’t expecting that. He stumbled, but his reaction was insane. He sidestepped, dodging most of the spray. That wasn’t a normal reflex. Still, the white cloud bought me a few seconds. I dropped the extinguisher and grabbed the mop, charging him. This was the first time I attacked. No more waiting to die. We grappled in the haze of chemical powder. He was stronger, more skilled than any average joe. But I had rage. I had the experience of thirty deaths. During a dodge, I saw his sleeve slip again. That scar was clearer now. It looked like a surgical scar. Right over the pulse point. Why did it look so familiar? Before I could process it, he recovered. The blade flashed. This time, dying hurt more than ever. But I was closer to the truth than I’d ever been. 3 I opened my eyes in front of the freezer. No fear this time. I had a plan. 2:37 AM. I marched straight to the security office and pulled up the feeds. I’d ignored the cameras before. There were six. Maybe they caught something I missed. The office was tiny, just an old monitor split into six grainy views. I fast-forwarded through yesterday’s footage. Weird. Starting at 2:00 AM, the feed glitched. Static. Jumps. Like interference. And at 2:40 AM, the moment he entered, all cameras blacked out for a full second. Not a coincidence. I switched to the live feed. 2:39 AM. Camera 4 caught a shadow lurking by the back door. He’s here. I picked up the landline in the office and dialed 911. “This is the Southside Mart. Someone’s breaking in. Send help now!” Silence for a beat. Then a calm female voice: “Address, please?” I rattled it off, eyes glued to the screen. The figure had popped the lock. He was creeping in. “Officers will be there in five minutes. Stay safe.” Five minutes? I didn’t have five minutes. I watched him get closer on the screen. Then, an idea. The panic button. It was wired directly to the station. I slammed the red button. A piercing alarm screamed through the store. On screen, the killer flinched. But he didn’t run. He moved faster. He knew he was on a clock. I grabbed the baton from under the desk and hid behind the door. When he burst into the office, I swung with everything I had. Crack! I hit his shoulder. He staggered back. First time I ever had the upper hand. While he was off balance, I swung again. A glancing blow to the head. The black mask slipped, revealing a strand of gray hair. My heart pounded. Finally. I was going to see the face of the monster who killed me thirty times. I lunged and ripped the mask off. I froze. It was a face I knew better than anyone’s. But worn. Weathered. It was me. But older. Ten, maybe fifteen years older. Deep set eyes. Exhausted. A scar on the forehead. Even the mole on the chin was identical. Future Me looked at me with cold determination. “Get out of the way, Ethan!” His voice was raspy, but it was my voice. Just… broken. I stumbled back. “You… you’re me? Why are you killing me?” “Our daughter has a rare blood disease. If I don’t get the money, Lily… Lily dies!” Daughter? I didn’t even have a girlfriend. Before I could ask, Future Me raised the knife. His eyes were dead. “I’m sorry. But it’s the only way she lives.” As the blade pierced my chest, my brain was still reeling. The killer was me. 4 I woke up gasping. Not from fear, but from shock. Lily. The name echoed in my head. My daughter? My future daughter? Why would Future Me kill Past Me to save her? That’s a paradox. 2:20 AM. I sat at the register and booted up the computer. I needed answers. I googled “Lily” + “rare blood disease.” Too many hits. I searched “extremely expensive blood disorder treatments.” One stood out. Heimann-Faber Syndrome. Rare genetic disorder. Less than 500 cases worldwide. Treatment costs millions. Was this it? But why kill me? Robbing a convenience store for a few grand wouldn’t make a dent in those bills. Unless… it wasn’t just about money. I searched “time travel” + “ethics” + “paradox.” Skimmed through sci-fi theories and physics papers. 2:39 AM. I shut down the computer and stood behind the counter. Waiting. This time, I wouldn’t run. I wouldn’t fight. I’d talk. When the figure entered, I spoke up. “Lily needs treatment for Heimann-Faber Syndrome, right?” He faltered. Just a step. Then kept coming. “I know who you are. I know why you’re here,” I said quickly. “But killing me won’t help. We can figure this out together.” He stopped. I could feel his gaze burning through the mask. “You know nothing. It’s too late. There is no other way.” “Tell me the truth!” I shouted. “Why this store? Why tonight? Why me?” He didn’t answer, just kept advancing. I noticed something. He clutched his chest occasionally. It wasn’t just his daughter. He was sick too. “You’re dying too, aren’t you?” I asked. That stopped him. He pulled off the mask. That face. My face. Etched with pain. “Listen to me. You will never understand unless you live through what I lived through.” “Lily needs a bone marrow transplant. But we aren’t a match anymore. Because…” He doubled over, coughing. I stepped forward to help. He waved the knife warningly. “Because what?” “Because time travel changed me. It changed everything.” He gritted his teeth, pulled the mask back down, and charged. Dying this time felt different. My last thought was of a daughter I’d never met.

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My husband’s adopted sister was supposed to bring my prenatal vitamins. Instead, she handed me abortion pills. I took the dose, and the bleeding began almost immediately. Ruby blinked innocently but offered no apology. “I’m always playing pranks on Julian, like slipping him laxatives. It’s just a habit. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” She tilted her head. “It was just a joke, Helena. You’re not mad, are you?” I tried to lunge at her, but my body gave out and I collapsed. Rushed to the hospital, I drifted in and out of consciousness. Through the haze, I saw Ruby fall into Julian’s arms, pouting. “It wasn’t on purpose! How was I supposed to know the driver grabbed the wrong box? He thought it was for you!” “What do we do now?” she cried. “Helena lost the baby! When she wakes up, she’ll kill me! What if she scars my face? You won’t see your beautiful Ruby anymore!” Julian looked at her adoringly, gently tapping her forehead. “Scared now? Where’s the brave girl who locked me in a bathroom without toilet paper?” He sighed and pulled her close. “You get away with this because you know I love you, you little troublemaker.” “Alright, stop crying. I’ll handle it. Just follow my lead.” When I opened my eyes again, Julian was holding a document—the driver’s termination letter. He had pinned all the blame on an innocent man. In that moment, I knew. This hollow marriage was finally over. 1 Seeing my silence, Julian grew uneasy. He took my hand and forced it against his own cheek, mimicking a slap. “Helena, please don’t be like this. Say something. You’re scaring me.” He showed me the termination letter, flipping to the page where the driver had signed a confession. “It was the driver’s fault. He thought the medicine was for me, one of our stupid pranks. He couldn’t find laxatives, so he just grabbed another box. He never imagined you would be the one to take it.” “This is all my fault,” he continued, his voice thick with false contrition. “I didn’t manage my people properly, and it cost us our child. Take it all out on me. Hit me, scream at me, whatever you need to do to feel better. I won’t fight back, I promise.” I wanted to scream at him, to ask him why an innocent driver had to pay for Ruby’s crime. But the moment I opened my mouth, tears began to stream down my face. Julian’s panic intensified. He pulled me into a tight embrace, his voice cracking. “Don’t worry, I’ve already fired him. With this confession, he’ll never work in this city again. Think of it as justice for our baby.” “We can have more children, Helena. We’re still young. Please don’t punish yourself. This is all my fault…” We can always have another one. What a cruel, ironic thing to say. For five years of marriage, I had dreamed of nothing more than having a child with him. The doctors said my body was weak, that I needed special care. To get pregnant, I forced down nauseating herbal teas every single day. My stomach was a roadmap of countless needle marks from hormone injections; I’d thrown out boxes upon boxes of empty syringes. And then, finally, we had good news. But after only two short months, before I could even begin to feel the joy of impending motherhood, it was all ripped away. And my husband, instead of blaming the person responsible, was making excuses for her. I wrenched my hand from his grasp, my smile more painful than any sob. “Where is Ruby?” Julian’s posture immediately stiffened. “Why are you asking about Ruby? She’s at the office, overseeing a meeting for me.” He rushed to her defense. “Don’t get the wrong idea. This had nothing to do with her. She was just the messenger. The driver bought the pills…” I hadn’t even accused her, yet he had already built a fortress of excuses around her. A bitter acid rose in my throat, choking me. “I just want to see her. Why are you so defensive?” “Did I say she had anything to do with this?” He let out a breath, realizing he had overplayed his hand. He tried to backtrack. “I’m just worried about you. You’re emotional right now, and I don’t want you and Ruby to fight…” In the past, I might have swallowed my pride and confronted her. But now, I knew I didn’t have the right. I had lost that privilege long ago. From the moment Ruby entered our lives, Julian had changed in ways that terrified me. This man, who had always been so aloof with other women, learned to bend for her. He, who hated having his plans disrupted, would smile and ask about her schedule, then orchestrate “coincidences” so they could meet. I had seen what it looked like when he loved me. I knew what I was seeing now with Ruby was the same thing. But whenever I tried to talk about their relationship, his face would flush with anger. “I’ve told you a million times, Ruby is just my sister! That’s it!” “I’ve known Ruby for as long as I’ve known you! If something was going to happen, don’t you think it would have happened before I started chasing you?” “She’s young and naive! As her older brother, it’s my job to look out for her! Why do you have to have such a dirty mind?” For five years, he had fed me lies. Eventually, I started helping him, lying to myself. I believed that true love would always win. I just didn’t realize how quickly a heart could change. Just then, the door creaked open, pulling me back to the present. 2 Ruby stood by my bed, beaming. “Helena, you’re awake! I’m so glad you’re okay. Brother Julian was so worried he couldn’t even eat!” Julian chuckled, playing along as if I wasn’t there. “You have the nerve to say that? I couldn’t eat because of the laxatives you gave me! I lost ten pounds in two days. I almost ended up in the ER!” Ruby stuck her tongue out playfully. “That’s what you get for making me run two miles to deliver a file. Now you know not to mess with me!” She playfully threw a punch in the air toward him. He got the cue, clutching his chest dramatically and collapsing back onto the chair. “Augh! I’m slain! Princess Ruby is too powerful!” Beneath the sheets, my hand clenched into a tight fist. The IV needle was forced from my skin, but I was so numb I couldn’t even feel the sting. After a moment, Ruby seemed to remember I was in the room. “Oh, Julian, you’re terrible!” she whined. “I came here to see Helena, and you didn’t even remind me. You just wanted to see me make a fool of myself, didn’t you?” “You’re the one who wanted to pick a fight. Don’t you dare play the victim. Your sister is watching, you know.” Ruby sat down on the edge of my bed, her face a mask of faux sympathy. “Helena, please don’t be sad. I bought you all these supplements to help you recover. You just need to build your strength back up, and you can always have another baby.” I slowly closed my eyes, not responding to her words. My voice, when I spoke, was ice. “You were hoping I’d never get pregnant, weren’t you?” “Well, you got your wish.” The single sentence plunged the room into a heavy silence. When I opened my eyes again, Ruby’s were filled with tears, as if she were the most wronged person in the world. “How can you say that to me?” “I think of you as my real sister! Why would I be happy that my sister had a miscarriage?” “You can hate me if you want, but you can’t accuse me of something so horrible!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I raised my hand to slap her. The next second, a sharp crack echoed through the room as my palm connected with Julian’s face. “Helena! That’s enough!” He pulled Ruby behind him, shielding her completely. “I told you what happened with the pills! It was the driver’s fault, it had nothing to do with Ruby! You can be upset, but you don’t have the right to blame innocent people!” “Ruby came here out of the goodness of her heart to see you! Look at yourself! You’re acting like a monster!” My nails dug into my palms as I screamed back at him. “Goodness of her heart? If she was so good, why didn’t she take me to the hospital the second I took that pill?” “I almost died! The doctors said I might never be able to get pregnant again! It’s easy for you to talk, you’re not the one who lost the chance to be a mother!” “Julian, you must be exhausted from keeping up this act for so long.” “Now that I can’t have children, you have the perfect excuse to divorce me! You can propose to Ruby right now! She’s been dreaming of crawling into your bed and having your bastard children!” A stinging slap across my face. Blood trickled from the corner of my lip. “Helena, I’ll say this one last time. There is nothing going on between me and Ruby.” “You couldn’t keep our child safe, that’s your failure! What’s even more pathetic is that you can’t admit your own weakness, so you blame everyone else!” “I am so disappointed in you right now. Stay here and think about what you’ve done.” With that, he turned and walked out. Ruby shot me a triumphant, mocking glance before hurrying after him. Outside the room, she grabbed his arm, her voice dripping with false concern. “Helena’s just upset, that’s why she said those things. I don’t mind, so why are you so angry?” “I can’t stand it when she gets like this. Paranoid. She can say whatever she wants about me, but not about you.” “But she just had a miscarriage. Are you really going to leave her here all alone? What if she gets angry and ignores you?” “That’s what I have you for, isn’t it?” “So, how are you going to thank me for covering for you this time?” My body shaking, I threw back the covers and dragged myself to the door. Through the crack, their hushed, intimate whispers stabbed at my ears. “I brought that miniskirt you bought me. If you want to see it, we could find a hotel nearby…” “You’re such a little temptress. A hotel is half an hour away. I can’t wait a single minute.” “What about your car? But what if Helena finds out? She’ll skin me alive.” “She won’t dare. Not while I’m here.” Their footsteps faded down the hall. The phone on my nightstand lit up.

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I’d been in a secret relationship with my roommate’s CEO cousin for three years. Today, he hit me with some news. “My cousin is bringing her boyfriend of three years to meet her parents in a bit.” Then he clapped me on the back. “Hey, when are you going to bring your little girlfriend around for me to meet?” I had no idea how to answer him. I mumbled an excuse and escaped to the balcony, dialing his cousin’s number. She hung up on me. When I turned around, my girlfriend was standing in the doorway, her arm linked with another man’s. The smile on her face vanished the second she saw me. “What are you doing in my house?” 1 The question snapped out of her, sharp and accusatory. Every eye in the room turned to me. Realizing her mistake, Isabella’s tone softened. “Matt, what a surprise. I thought you were still on your business trip.” Under the curious gaze of her entire family, I froze for a second before managing a bitter smile, forcing myself to play along. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. So, this is what it felt like to be a secret. The one who couldn’t be seen in the light. A thousand questions were screaming in my head, but seeing her there, so composed, I lost the will to ask any of them. Suddenly, the whole charade just felt pointless. “Just got back,” I said, my voice steady. “Didn’t have a chance to notify you, Ms. Jiang.” My compliance seemed to satisfy her. The tension in her face eased. Dinner was a masterclass in performance art, a perfect family gathering. I feigned an instant camaraderie with Isabella’s boyfriend, Leo. We clinked glasses, traded stories, and exchanged contact information. I didn’t say a single word to Isabella all night. After dinner, I went home alone. I sat on the sofa, the image replaying in my mind: Isabella on Leo’s arm, proudly introducing him to her parents as her boyfriend. It was everything I had ever dreamed of for us. I had wanted her to make us public, to take me home to meet her parents. I would have told them I’d spend my life cherishing her, protecting her from any harm. Instead, I was a rat, scurrying in the shadows. I sat there until midnight, when Isabella finally came home. This should have been the moment the dam broke. Our fights always followed the same pattern: a tense quiet, then accusations, shouting, excuses, blame, and finally, the cold shoulder. But tonight, I felt nothing. The energy for the fight was gone. It all felt meaningless. After changing her shoes, she must have noticed my unnerving silence. For once, she spoke first. “I only brought Leo to meet them because my parents have been pressuring me to get married. He was just doing me a favor, playing the part for a day to get them off my case.” “Mm,” I said, acknowledging I’d heard her. I offered nothing else. By all accounts, my response was perfectly reasonable. But a second later, she was the one who was angry. The impatience in her voice was so sharp it made me look up. “Matt, I just explained everything to you. What is with this attitude?” Her words churned in my mind, a rising vortex of frustration. I couldn’t stop myself. “You asked your assistant to work overtime to play your boyfriend? Why didn’t you just ask me? I’m your actual boyfriend!” “Because you would have embarrassed me in front of them!” The words hung in the air. She ripped her purse from her shoulder and threw it at me before storming into the bedroom. The door slammed with enough force to shake the frame. The bag was a gift from Leo. A discounted Coach bucket bag from an outlet mall, yet she carried it everywhere. She’d shield it from the rain with her own body. The Chanel Classic Flap I’d bought her? Leo had taken one look at it, declared it a fake, and she’d slashed it with scissors and thrown it in the trash. The difference between being loved and not being loved was so painfully obvious. And the joke was on me, for refusing to see it for so long. Her words just now, spoken in the heat of anger, were the unvarnished truth. She thought I wasn’t good enough for her. And maybe she was right. I met her in college, and because of her, I didn’t return to my own family after graduation. I went to work for her company. She was the CEO of Astra Group. In everyone else’s eyes, I was just some leech who got a job through connections, living off her. I was an embarrassment. Leo, on the other hand, was her perfect match—her equal, someone who made her look good. It didn’t matter that I had spent three years dedicating myself to her, catering to her every whim. I could never compete with him. It was time to end this three-year farce. I pulled a spare duvet from the closet and spent the night in the study. For the first time in a long time, I slept soundly. The next morning, I packed my work bag and left for the office. As I was leaving our complex, I got a call from the dealership. “Mr. Shaw? Your car service is complete. When would you like to pick it up?” Last month, Isabella had lent my car to Leo without asking. When he’d returned it last week, he casually mentioned a few new scratches. I’d wanted to confront him, but Isabella had defended him, so I’d let it go and sent the car in for a tune-up. I arrived at the dealership a short while later. The manager handed me the keys with a knowing, conspiratorial smile. He gestured to a small gift bag with the dealership’s logo sitting on the passenger seat. “Hey, kid, we put everything back in the bag for you. I get it, you’re young, but maybe try to control yourselves a bit. And next time, probably best to clear out your valuables before you bring it in for service. It was a little awkward for my mechanics.” Confused, I walked over and opened the bag. Inside was a set of risqué lingerie and a pair of nipple covers adorned with tiny bells. There was only one conclusion to draw about how those items ended up in my car. And I had never, not once, done anything like that with Isabella in my car. Which meant it was her. And Leo. 2 There was no questioning, no anger. I wasn’t even surprised. I removed the dashcam’s memory card and turned to the manager. “Do you buy used cars?” “We certainly do, sir!” I didn’t haggle. We quickly settled on a price, and I took a cab to the office. The moment I sat down at my desk, I heard the women at the next cubicle whispering. “Did you hear? The CEO and that assistant are totally a thing.” “I knew it! I heard she personally recruited Leo and offered him a huge salary!” “Of course she did. They were college classmates. I saw them at a bar together just last night!” Hearing it confirmed still sent a shard of ice through my heart. So that’s how it was. I numbly opened my laptop, but the blank document stared back at me. I couldn’t type a single word. “Matt!” Isabella’s voice cut through the air from behind me. “You’re an hour late. I’m marking you as absent for the day.” As if to cut off any argument, she added, “I checked your time card. Exactly one hour. According to company policy…” “Okay.” I nodded, my gaze still fixed on the screen, trying to figure out how to start the document. My calm acceptance seemed to take her by surprise. She lingered by my desk, her shadow falling over my keyboard, blocking the light. I looked up, confused. “Is there something else, Ms. Jiang?” She crossed her arms, looking down at me with a scrutinizing glare. “Matt, don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” I was genuinely baffled. I thought for a moment. “I was late. That’s a fact. You’re following company policy, which is your right. I don’t see what there is to explain. I don’t have any excuses.” My straightforwardness seemed to disarm her. Her face darkened, but she turned and walked away without another word. Soon, I was lost in my work, and the hours flew by. When I finally finished and took off my headphones, I looked up to find the entire office was empty. It was 11:30 PM. I cursed my work buddies for not even giving me a heads-up they were leaving. Just then, I heard the click of high heels behind me. Isabella tossed an empty takeout container in the trash and casually sat down in the chair next to mine. “Why didn’t you answer my messages?” I opened my laptop and saw that she had indeed messaged me. “Help me pick out some parts. Which of these CPUs, motherboards, and graphics cards are best for AAA gaming?” “And what’s a good setup for RGB lighting in the case? Is liquid cooling better or air cooling?” She knew I was an expert on this stuff; it was my bread and butter. A year ago, I had mentioned to her that I wanted a new high-end Intel processor for my own work. It wasn’t a hint for a gift; it was a test. She’d been hot and cold with me, and I wanted to see if I still mattered. Her response then had been sharp with annoyance. “You’ve been out of college for two years, Matt! You’re not a student anymore. Stop thinking about video games and focus on your job!” I had tried to explain that a CPU was different from a graphics card, and that for my work, the processor was the priority. She hadn’t listened. Now, I quickly put together a list of top-tier components and sent it to her. She was delighted. After placing the order, she grabbed my arm, and we left the office. On the drive home, I sat in the back, running diagnostics on a program on my laptop. I mindlessly scrolled through my social media feed. The first post was from Leo. A nine-photo grid with the caption: “Mentioned it once, and it appeared. I feel so loved.” The photos were of the top-of-the-line gaming setup Isabella had just ordered. I liked the post and left a simple comment. “Wishing you both the best.” A moment later, Isabella’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, and the car screeched to a halt on the side of the road. She whipped around, her eyes blazing. “So I bought him a gaming PC, so what? What’s with the passive-aggressive comment on his post?” “Fine! I’ll buy you one, too! I’ll buy you anything you want, is that what you want to hear?” I was annoyed. The sudden stop had made my hand slip on the keyboard, interrupting the diagnostic that was almost finished. Now I had to start all over again. But I had no interest in fighting. I sighed, restarted the program, and said calmly, “I wasn’t being passive-aggressive. It was a sincere comment. You don’t need to be so sensitive.” Her face was a thundercloud. She reached back and slammed my laptop shut. “Is this still because I asked Leo to pretend to be my boyfriend? You’ve been holding a grudge since yesterday!” “Is this fun for you, Matt? Instead of thanking Leo for helping me, you go and leave sarcastic comments on his posts.” “And don’t think for a second that just because you’re younger, I’m going to baby you. If you want to throw a tantrum, go home to your parents. Don’t expect me to put up with it! Know your place!” “Keep this up, and we’re done!” Her voice was laced with threats and fury. In the past, I would have immediately backed down, begging her for forgiveness. But now? I was just tired. All I wanted was to finish running my program before the code corrupted. I just nodded. “Okay. I get it. You can keep driving now.” I have no idea which word set her off, but she screamed at me again. “Get out!” I looked at her for a second, then grabbed my laptop and got out of the car. I really didn’t want to fight with her. One more second and her road rage might have gotten us both killed. The moment I was out, she floored it, peeling away into the night. I watched the taillights disappear and thought about the past. Her mood swings used to send me into a panic, making me constantly question what I’d done wrong to upset her. I just wanted her to be happy, but with me, she was a storm of unpredictability. I always assumed it was my fault and was always the first to apologize. But not this time. I just sat on the curb, laptop open, desperately trying to salvage my work. Then I pulled out my phone, called a car, and booked a luxury suite at the nearest five-star hotel. 3 Another night of perfect sleep. The first thing I did when I woke up was check my program. Thank god. It ran perfectly. After showering and having breakfast at the hotel, I saw a new message from Isabella. “All the parts are arriving today. Don’t leave after work. Go to Leo’s place and build the computer for him.” I scrolled up. The seller had sent an installation guide with a mockup of the finished computer, including a custom-etched LED panel for the case. The design was a piece of custom art Isabella must have commissioned. The irony was so thick I almost laughed. I was a software developer, not a professional PC builder. I typed up my resignation letter, went to the office, and handed it to HR. The moment I did, a massive weight lifted from my shoulders. Even the stale office air felt fresh. I worked until closing time, packed up my personal laptop, and prepared to leave for the last time. An unwelcome figure blocked my path. Isabella, her face a mask of displeasure. I tried to walk around her, but she grabbed my arm. “Matt, where do you think you’re going?” Her sharp tone made heads turn. I pointed at the clock on the wall, my voice laced with confusion. “Home? It’s quitting time.” Her voice was ice. “Quitting time? The entire project department is still here working. What makes you think you can leave?” “My work is done. Why should I work overtime?” As my coworkers stared in shock, I turned to leave, Isabella’s angry shouts echoing behind me. “Matt! If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back tomorrow!” I ignored her and called a cab. Back at the apartment, I pulled out a suitcase and started packing. It didn’t take long. Everything I owned fit into a single suitcase. The bulkiest items were my desktop computer and my two monitors. After arranging for a courier to ship my things, I booked a red-eye flight to New York. I left my key on the shoe cabinet. A second later, my phone rang. It was Isabella. “My clothes are dirty. Bring me a change.” She hung up before I could reply. A location pin followed. I grabbed the gift bag from the dealership. Twenty minutes later, I was standing outside the door of a private room at a high-end club. The door was slightly ajar. As I reached for the handle, I heard my name. “Isabella, I thought you were just messing around with Matt. Why haven’t you dumped him yet?” “It’s been three years! Don’t tell me you actually fell for him? Leo came all the way back for you!” Isabella’s reply dripped with scorn. “How could I fall for a kid like Matt? He’s annoying as hell. But I will admit one thing.” “What? What is it?” her friends chimed in. Her voice was smug. “These past few years, as clingy and irritating as he is, he’s been completely obedient. He waits on me hand and foot. He’s like a well-trained puppy. I can forgive a little whining now and then.” “Oh, and he’s a ridiculously hard worker. Never slacks off, always takes on extra tasks. For one person’s salary, I get the output of three. Where else am I going to find such a useful workhorse?” The room filled with laughter. “So, Isabella, who are you going to marry? Him or Leo?” “Yeah, we’re all shipping you and Leo! You can’t break up our favorite couple!” Isabella laughed. “What does marriage matter? Marriage is one thing, love is another. If we’re talking about marriage, Matt’s honestly the more suitable choice. He can cook, clean, and he works his ass off.” That’s when I pushed the door open. The lively atmosphere froze. Isabella saw me, and a flicker of panic crossed her face, quickly replaced by annoyance. She said, with a casual wave of her hand, “See? Told you he’d be here in a flash.” Dozens of eyes were on me, all wearing the same expression: they were waiting for the punchline of a joke. I tossed the bag onto the table in front of her. She glanced at it. “I told you to bring clothes. What’s this tiny bag from a car dealership going to hold?” I smiled faintly. “I sold the car. They gave me the bag as a thank you gift.” Someone immediately jumped to her defense. “Matt, are you insane? Why would you sell your car? Did Isabella even say you could?” I snorted. “My car got dirty, so I sold it. What’s it got to do with Isabella? It’s not like she bought it for me.” “And it does have your clothes in it. The ones Leo personally took off you.” “Honestly, you two. You’re grown adults. Couldn’t you get a room? You just had to do it in my car. Do you need me to play the dashcam footage to jog your memory?”

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Before dying, my childhood sweetheart said he would leave his entire inheritance to his first love. “Sarah, she’s different from you. You’re a maid, but she’s a dancer. She’s been elegant all her life; she needs money to live comfortably for the rest of her days.” “Besides, if you hadn’t staged that car accident back then, she and I wouldn’t have been separated.” “You used your kindness to demand repayment and ruined my entire life.” “If I could do it all over again, I’d rather be a cripple than have anything to do with you.” He was full of grievances, yet he never mentioned that I missed two college entrance exams to save him. Later, to help him recover, I gave up my dream of aerospace engineering and switched to nursing. I signed the agreement to waive the inheritance and nodded softly, “Okay.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the college entrance exam, right when he was racing his car to win back his first love. I pretended not to know anything. In this life, I don’t want to have anything to do with him either. 1 As soon as the morning exam ended, my dad grabbed me and quickly ran back to the car. He started the car, while my mom was responsible for explaining. “Do you know about Ethan dating early? Today is the college entrance exam, but that girl broke up with him. Ethan…” I didn’t need to hear the rest; I knew it clearly. Just like in my previous life, Ethan got into a car accident while chasing his girlfriend and lost the use of his legs. The only difference was that this time, I watched Ethan go to his doom with my own eyes, then continued to finish the afternoon exams. When we arrived at the hospital, two doctors had just wearily come out of the operating room. “The accident was too severe, and the rescue was delayed a bit. He’s alive, but there’s a high probability he won’t be able to stand up again. If recovery isn’t good after surgery, amputation might be necessary.” Upon hearing this, Ethan’s mother, Mrs. Wen, burst into tears. Mr. Wen supported her, his face also full of grief. My parents stood there, stunned. “It’s a pity Ethan studied so hard for so many years, only to have an accident at this critical juncture.” My dad signaled my mom to shut up with a look. After Ethan was wheeled out, the four parents surrounded him. Only I stared blankly at my own hands. Slender and long, without calluses, nor the swollen and deformed joints from touching cold water for a long time. I was truly reborn, and the two exams I took in the afternoon were also real. In my previous life, Ethan’s first love, Mia, broke up with him on the day of the college entrance exam. To win her back, Ethan didn’t hesitate to take Mr. Wen’s car and chase after her. Seeing this, I was worried about Ethan’s safety, so I followed him. But I witnessed that tragic car accident with my own eyes. To send him to the hospital for treatment as soon as possible, I missed the two exams in the afternoon. I, who usually scored nearly 700 points, only got over 400 points in the college entrance exam. I wanted to repeat the year, but Ethan suddenly knelt and confessed his love. He said, “The doctor said if you hadn’t risked danger to pull me out of the car, both my legs would probably have been amputated.” “You gave up two exams for me and missed the aerospace major. I am willing to be responsible for you for the rest of my life, if… if you don’t mind me.” Years of secret love suddenly had a sequel at this moment. For a while, I didn’t even know how to react. “Then, what about Mia?” Ethan’s eyes were full of hatred, “If it weren’t for her, how would I have become like this!” “I hate her too much!” After hesitating for a day, plus the change in college entrance exam policies, and Ethan claiming he couldn’t leave me, I agreed. Missing my favorite major, I enrolled in nursing to help Ethan stand up again. For the next few decades, I had been helping Ethan with rehabilitation training. He said he didn’t like outsiders coming into the house, so laundry, cooking, massage, and rehabilitation were all done by me alone. I took care of him meticulously until he stood up again. He was unwilling to be mediocre and wanted to start a business, and I was the one running errands for him. But on the day his business succeeded and he held a celebration banquet. I heard him ask his assistant, “Did you invite the dancer named Mia to be my companion today? Did you invite her?” The assistant nodded but hesitated, “Mr. Wen, what about the madam?” Ethan looked at himself standing straight in the mirror and sneered. “Madam? She’s just a maid.” I stood behind the door, clutching my dress in humiliation. Perhaps God opened his eyes, and Ethan ended up in the ICU again due to complications. But before he died, he left all his inheritance to Mia. He even transferred the only few hundred thousand dollars in my name to Mia. “Sarah, she’s different from you. You’re a maid, but she’s a dancer. She’s been elegant all her life; she needs money to live comfortably for the rest of her days.” “Besides, if you hadn’t staged that car accident back then, she and I wouldn’t have been separated.” “You used your kindness to demand repayment and ruined my entire life.” “If I could do it all over again, I’d rather be a cripple than have anything to do with you.” After working hard for half my life, I became a penniless pauper who only knew how to do rough work. In my previous life, I had already paid the price for being love-struck. 2 This time, I watched Mr. Wen and Mrs. Wen cry without saying a word. “Old Wen and I only have Ethan as our son in this life. We poured all our heart and blood into him. Ethan was clearly a good child with excellent character and academics, but how did he date early?” “I’ve asked around. That girl is an art student with terrible grades. The college entrance exam isn’t important to her at all! But she can’t ruin Ethan at this time, boohoo…” My mom sighed beside them, “That girl too. Ethan had such a big accident for her, and she doesn’t even come to see him.” Mrs. Wen stood up abruptly with hatred in her eyes. “We are not unreasonable people, but that girl ruined my son; she has to come and apologize no matter what!” Mrs. Wen got up to find Mia, but before she took two steps, Ethan’s shouting came from the ward. “Mia, Mia!” I followed at the very end and walked in. Ethan’s head was wrapped in gauze, both legs were fixed, and he was struggling to get up but couldn’t. Because I didn’t follow him, it was said that Ethan was in a coma in the car for over an hour before he was found by a teacher who called 911. Treatment was delayed, and the injuries were more severe. The doctor said the probability of amputation was very high. Mrs. Wen ran over, holding back tears. “Don’t move, son. The doctor said you can’t move around; the wounds haven’t healed yet.” Ethan looked at his legs, stunned for a moment, and pretended to be relaxed: “It’s okay, isn’t it just a fracture? It’s not a big deal.” “Look, I can still move.” Ethan tried to move his legs, but there was no reaction. His expression gradually froze. With each attempt, he also showed anxiety. “Why can’t my legs move? The anesthesia must not have worn off yet, right?” Mr. Wen and Mrs. Wen had tears in their eyes but didn’t know how to speak. “Speak! Say something!!” Ethan pressed the nurse call button himself. After the nurse came in, he started questioning. “What’s wrong with my legs?” “Say it! What happened to my legs!!” The nurse was startled. Just as she wanted to speak, Ethan suddenly hammered his legs heavily. “Why can’t they move at all!” Ethan was emotional, and two or three people couldn’t hold him down. But seeing him like this, a trace of pleasure inexplicably rose in my heart. I walked up to Ethan and said word by word: “Keep hammering your legs. Right now your legs are just paralyzed, but if you keep hammering, maybe they’ll need to be amputated.” Ethan froze as if hit by the word “paralyzed”. “Pa-paralyzed?” Mrs. Wen finally couldn’t help but burst into tears. Mr. Wen also said, “Dad knows the ins and outs of this matter. You’ve become like this, that Mia…” Before he finished speaking, Ethan suddenly said: “It has nothing to do with Mia.” “It was me being anxious and driving privately.” I lowered my eyes and smiled. Is favoritism defending you in front of everyone even if you caused my paralysis? This car accident had nothing to do with me no matter how you look at it, but in my previous life, Ethan could recklessly pin the accident on me. Love and lack thereof are indeed obvious. In my previous life, he said he would rather be a cripple than have anything to do with me again. In this life, he continues to be disabled, while I took the college entrance exam and prepared to fulfill my dream. Everyone gets what they wish for. 3 This time I didn’t offer to stay with Ethan. I stayed for a while and went home. But the next day, Mrs. Wen fell ill from anxiety. After all, Ethan’s driving without a license as a minor was exposed by the media, and the internet was full of insults against Ethan. Mr. Wen couldn’t handle it alone, so helplessly, my mom arranged for me, who had just finished the college entrance exam, to go over. Seeing that it was me, the excitement Ethan had just raised faded. I ignored him and just sat quietly playing with my phone, thinking as long as he was alive, it was fine. But when the nurse came to change the dressing, Ethan was very uncooperative. “Bed 18, time to change dressing.” Ethan turned his head with red eyes, “No need.” The nurse was helpless but not surprised at all, looking like she was used to it. “If you don’t change the dressing, your leg condition will only get worse.” The nurse tried to untie the gauze on Ethan’s leg on her own. “I said no need!” Ethan knocked over the iodine in the nurse’s tray, and the tray crashed to the ground with a clang. I frowned and stood up. In my previous life, Ethan couldn’t accept his legs becoming like this either, but he wasn’t as bastardly as now. After carefully recalling, I discovered the difference. In my previous life, after Ethan’s accident, I went to find Mia and persuaded her with good and bad words, and Mia came to visit him the next day. But this time, news of Ethan’s car accident spread throughout the school, but Mia didn’t make a move. Ethan was venting his anger. The nurse lady was extremely wronged but had to finish her work. But before she could touch him, Ethan actually reached out and pushed the nurse’s shoulder. “I told you no need, do you not understand human language! Are people in your line of work all so cheap? Can’t you understand the patient’s…” Unable to bear it anymore, I raised my hand and slapped Ethan across the face. “If you don’t want treatment, just check out. What are you going crazy for here?” The nurse wiped her tears, took a deep breath, and went out to get medicine again. “Bed 18…” I took the medicine and threw it on Ethan. “If you want to die, hurry up. If you don’t want to die, change it yourself.” The nurse gave me a grateful look and went out as if relieved of a heavy burden. I silently felt sorry for this young lady in the private hospital for encountering such a beast as Ethan. Ethan glared at me angrily, panting like a mad lion. “Sarah Qiao, what right do you have to hit me!!” Looking at the swelling on his face, I finally felt a little relieved. “Before you court death, look at your parents. Your mom fell ill, your dad’s hair turned white overnight. What reason do you have to act up here?” “Just because Mia didn’t come to see you? Then why don’t you go act up at her?” Ethan fell silent after his thoughts were exposed. After a long time, he spoke with a nasal voice, “Did Mia go to the training camp again and doesn’t know about this, so she didn’t come?” I ruthlessly burst his bubble. “The college entrance exam is over. She even went to a class reunion yesterday.” Ethan pursed his lips tightly and turned his head away, obviously unwilling to admit it. When I came back from the bathroom, he had secretly changed the dressing himself. In my previous life, I always felt sorry for Ethan being a patient and took care of everything personally. Later, I turned him into a giant baby who wouldn’t even take his daily medicine unless I sorted it out. Now with no one to take care of him, didn’t he change the dressing himself? After returning home, I looked at Mia’s social media. She had been living a colorful life these past few days. After thinking about it, I clicked open the chat box with Mia. I wanted to see how Mia would treat Ethan in this life without my earnest persuasion. 4 The next day, Mia and I arrived at the hospital one after another. When I came, Ethan looked dead inside; when Mia came, Ethan looked like a living person. His eyes were shining, “Mia, you finally came.” “How did you know I was hospitalized? It’s hard for you in such hot weather. Sarah Qiao, go buy Mia a cup of bubble tea.” Even though I had no feelings for Ethan in this life, I was still laughed at out of anger. In my previous life, I gave up repeating a year and chose nursing, allowing him to stand up again from paralysis. Not only did he not think I worked hard, but he also treated me as a maid, saying that the car accident was deliberately designed by me to be with him. Sure enough, the one truly loved doesn’t need to do anything; just standing there is winning. I stood still, and Mia also crossed her arms and said coldly no need. She kept her distance from Ethan. “I didn’t come here to drink bubble tea.” “Ethan, what exactly do you mean? Your driving skills are poor and you had an accident, now you want to involve me and make me responsible for you?” “Are you crazy? Your car accident happened after I broke up with you. I have nothing to do with you anymore, understand?” It was the first time I saw that expression on Ethan’s face. Astonishment, embarrassment, and forcing a smile. Looking very miserable. He stammered a bit, “Mia, no… I didn’t want you to take responsibility, I…” Mia scolded him back coldly. “Do you think I don’t know you deliberately had people spread the news of your car accident at school? Aren’t you just trying to morally kidnap me!” “The more you act like this, the more disgusting I find you! You insisted on pestering me yourself; do you still want to delay my whole life?” “Don’t contact me again in the future. I’m telling you for the last time, I’ve broken up with you!” Mia walked away, and Ethan actually shed two tears. In my previous life, he didn’t cry before dying, didn’t cry when learning of paralysis this time, but was moved to tears by a few words from Mia. I raised the corner of my lips vengefully. “It’s almost time to fill out college applications. I’m going back to choose a school.” “Uncle Wen has to take care of Auntie Xu. You should hire a caregiver here for now.” I said a bunch, but Ethan didn’t listen to any of it. But it didn’t matter. I just needed to complete the orders from my parents. I just heard that Ethan had a high fever that night and was urgently treated again.

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