Category: English

I heard the inner thoughts of the baby in the next bed. “Mommy is so stupid, I was swapped by the bad lady and she didn’t even notice, still holding the fake one.” Without hesitation, I held the baby in my arms tighter. “Mommy, why are you so dumb! You’re holding the wrong baby! Hurry back!” I turned around and took a deep look at the baby in the next bed. The voice was ecstatic: “Mommy looked at me, did she finally realize!” Then, I walked away without looking back. 1 “Mommy is so stupid, I was swapped by the bad lady and she didn’t even notice, still holding the fake one.” My arms tightened around the baby. This was a double room. The woman in the next bed and I had both just given birth to daughters. At this moment, she was in the bathroom and had asked me to watch her daughter for a moment, leaving me alone with two babies. Just then, my daughter stirred awake, her little mouth opening as if about to cry. I quickly hugged her close, ready to comfort her, when I heard a strange voice. This familiar voice almost brought me to tears. But I ignored the voice completely, focusing on soothing my daughter, feeding her, and humming softly. “Mommy, I’m your real daughter! That fake just knows how to pretend to be pitiful to make your heart ache. I’m so good, I don’t cry or fuss, I’m so easy to raise.” “Mommy, I saw the little clothes you bought for me. It’s a pity I won’t get to wear them, the fake is going to wear them away.” Listening to these inner thoughts, my heart remained unmoved. The daughter in my arms was finally coaxed into drinking milk obediently. The other woman finally came out of the bathroom. Seeing me holding the baby, she looked a bit smug: “When the babies were just born, everyone said your baby was like a kitten, so weak, while mine was lively. Didn’t expect that in just a few days, the two would swap personalities. Do you think they were swapped by mistake?” Hearing her words, I just smiled and didn’t reply. That night, I urged my husband to handle the discharge procedures, preparing to leave the hospital directly for the confinement center. The woman in the next bed was surprised: “Aren’t you staying a few more days? Why leave today?” I still didn’t reply, directing my husband to pack our things. As we were leaving, I heard that voice again. “Mommy, why are you so dumb! You’re holding the wrong baby! Hurry back!” I turned around and took a deep look at the baby in the next bed. The voice was ecstatic: “Mommy looked at me, did she finally realize!” Then, I walked away without looking back. In my past life, I was fooled by this child’s “inner thoughts,” and personally swapped my own daughter for someone else’s child. I thought it was a gift from heaven, but didn’t expect it was a demon. 2 In my previous life, possessed by a moment of madness, I swapped the two children. The woman in the next bed had said almost the same things. We each took a child away. For the next twenty-plus years, I raised the child with care. But that strange inner voice lingered. The voice inadvertently revealed that my best friend’s husband molested her, but she was too afraid to speak. When I saw the wounds on her body, I went straight to my best friend’s house, demanding an apology from the couple. Even though my best friend’s husband insisted he never touched my daughter, I believed the child. The scars on her body couldn’t have appeared out of nowhere, right? That day ended with me falling out with my best friend, never contacting her again. Among the inheritance my parents left me were several precious gems. One day, these gems vanished. The inner voice secretly told me that my mother-in-law had snuck into my room. After finding the gems in my mother-in-law’s bag, I refused to listen to her defense and forced my husband to make her move out. Later, the inner voice told me my husband was cheating. By then, I trusted that inexplicable voice implicitly. Without any investigation, I chose to divorce my husband directly. When signing the divorce papers, my husband sighed: “Anne, I suggest you see a psychiatrist. Don’t you feel that ever since our daughter was born, you’ve become paranoid?” I thought it was his mockery after cheating, and cursed him on the spot, disregarding our past feelings. Because in my eyes, he betrayed me first. I was just protecting myself, venting for myself. My husband shook his head, didn’t argue, but instead said: “If you have any trouble in the future, you can call me. No matter what, I will be there for you. From beginning to end, I never cheated, mentally or physically.” I stared at him blankly. The love in his eyes hadn’t disappeared at all, just like when he passionately confessed to me, and passionately proposed to me. That deep affection made me doubt for the first time—was there something wrong with the inner voice I heard? But soon, I dismissed the thought. My daughter was only three years old, didn’t interact with strange people, and hadn’t even reached the age to attend kindergarten. What could she know? That was her inner voice. She wasn’t speaking aloud; could she still lie to me? As for my husband, he was an adult in his thirties. Maybe he had learned to disguise himself when I wasn’t looking. I raised my three-year-old daughter alone. Because of the inner voice, I never restricted her actions. In my eyes, my daughter was always a well-behaved and sensible child. Without any effort, I knew what she liked to eat, what she liked to do, who she disliked, and which boy was pursuing her recently. Just like that, twenty years flashed by. Watching my daughter grow into a young woman, my health started to deteriorate. I slept nearly twenty hours a day. My daughter took me to the hospital for a checkup. The doctor spoke evasively, unwilling to reveal more. But I learned from my daughter’s inner voice that I had a rare disease, incurable in this lifetime, and my days were numbered. Spending money on treatment would only extend my life by a few months without alleviating any pain. I sat in a daze all night. After dawn, I called a lawyer and transferred all my assets to my daughter’s name. House, car, savings, company. But I was too worried about my daughter. She was so pure, like a blank sheet of paper untouched by the world. So I called my ex-husband, forcing him to give his assets to our daughter as well, and demanding he pay close attention to her. On the phone, my ex-husband sounded tentative: “Anne, our things will be hers sooner or later. Why are you suddenly so anxious?” Perhaps because the years had smoothed my edges, and time was short, I didn’t argue with him. I simply described my condition and my intention to give up treatment. Hearing I had a terminal illness, my ex-husband appeared at my door half an hour later. He dragged me to get a new checkup. I couldn’t resist him, so we went to the hospital together. This wasn’t the hospital from my last checkup, but the procedures were similar. Yet, the new report shocked me. My body indicators were normal, but a large amount of sleeping pill residue was detected in my blood. My ex-husband grabbed my hand, wanting me to call the police. But my heart went cold. I shook my head and told him I needed to go home and clarify this with my daughter. Helpless, he nodded. I refused his request to confront our daughter with me. After sending him away, I sat at home alone, waiting for her return. Recently, the daughter who cooked for me every day came home. Seeing me, she just stared silently. I spoke first: “What exactly are you?” My daughter looked at me and suddenly smiled: “Mom, you know?” Then that familiar voice rang in my ear again. “But so what if you know? Everything of yours is mine now.” I thought she wouldn’t dare hurt me in a society ruled by law. But unexpectedly, she easily strangled my neck, using ruthless force and refusing to let go. I struggled, but couldn’t break free from her hands. When I woke up again, I was back in the hospital room more than twenty years ago. 3 Lying in the confinement center, holding the daughter in my arms, my tears flowed down instantly. Seeing everything settled, my husband was about to hold the baby, but I urged him: “Do a DNA test right now.” My husband looked surprised and a bit troubled: “Honey, won’t this hurt the baby? I never suspected this child wasn’t ours.” Looking at my ignorant husband, I shook my head: “I need to confirm this is my child.” My husband laughed: “This is your child. I haven’t left her side since she was born. But since you have doubts, let’s do a paternity test.” I was truly anxious, wishing to verify immediately, so I used the power of money. In less than twenty-four hours, the paternity test report came out. Seeing that this child was indeed my biological daughter, my tears flowed down again. “What’s wrong, don’t cry. Honey, read fewer novels about real and fake heiresses. Read more sweet stories about CEOs loving their wives… Okay okay, I won’t say it, read whatever you want, little ancestor please stop crying.” In my husband’s arms, I cried uncontrollably. After wiping my tears, I told my husband about hearing the other baby’s inner voice, but hid the fact of my rebirth. Hearing my story, my husband frowned: “Honey, maybe read fewer ‘mind-reading’ novels for a while? Could you be hallucinating from reading too much fiction?” “I’m not joking with you.” Seeing my serious demeanor, my husband put away his playful attitude. He held my hand: “Since you say so, I understand. Don’t worry, I won’t let that child appear in front of you again. And I will absolutely never mistake our daughter.” 4 I spent a peaceful week at the confinement center. But unexpectedly, a week later, when I went downstairs for a walk, that inner voice haunted me again like a ghost. “What a coincidence, seeing Mommy at the same confinement center again. Wonder if Mommy can recognize me this time.” “This fake mommy is so bad, ignores me every day, secretly hits me, pinches me. My body is full of marks from her pinching.” Hearing this voice, I instinctively looked towards the door and saw that woman pushing a stroller. Seeing me, the woman’s eyes lit up: “Oh my, isn’t this Anne from the next bed? What a coincidence, you’re at this center too. Come see my daughter, she’s grown so much in a few days, so pretty.” Saying this, she tried to shove her daughter into my arms. I took a step back. A corner of the little blanket on her daughter revealed the baby’s hand. There were marks one after another, looking like pinches. These marks didn’t look like something a baby could fake. Is this another trick of the inner voice? I couldn’t help but associate it with what happened in my previous life. I dodged the woman’s movement. She continued talking to herself: “Sigh, honestly, now that my daughter has opened up, she looks a bit like you. Do you think we might have swapped babies by mistake?” Simultaneously, the inner voice transmitted. “Of course like, we are mother and daughter connected by blood. Mommy, I’ve been beaten like this by this fake mommy, but don’t be sad. Seeing Mommy living well, I’m relieved.” “Mommy it hurts so much, Mommy…” The calls of “Mommy” were incessant. I suppressed the discomfort in my heart, clutching my stomach: “Ouch, my wound hurts a bit.” Just then, my husband returned from work. Seeing me clutching my stomach, he hurried to my side: “What’s wrong? Honey, let me help you back.” Seeing my husband appear, the woman stopped talking and left with the baby.

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Filming for the new series had just begun when I got a call from my dad. He wanted to set me up on a blind date. The guy was apparently the total package—handsome, charming, and had just snagged the award for Best Director at an international film festival. I was still debating whether to meet him when my phone blew up with notifications from the production’s group chat. “Zoe, you won!” “You got the grand prize in the kick-off raffle! A quarter of a million dollars!” Before I even had a chance to celebrate, the director’s assistant, a man named Mills, was standing in front of me. “Hand it over,” he demanded. I stared at him, completely bewildered. “Hand what over?” Mills shoved me hard, a nasty smirk spreading across his face. “Don’t play dumb with me, Yang.” “Mr. Ritchie made it clear. If you don’t hand over that lottery ticket today, you can say goodbye to your leading role.” I froze for a second, then pulled out my phone and dialed the number my dad had given me for the blind date. “Your assistant tells me you’re planning on replacing me?” 1 After graduating from a top film school, I spent three solid years as an extra on the studio circuit, grinding away to hone my craft. Now, after finally landing a lead role through sheer effort, I was about to lose it all over a lottery ticket. And the biggest twist? The director of this production was the very man my dad wanted me to meet. “I’m busy. Get to the point,” the voice on the other end of the line snapped, dripping with impatience. “Mr. Ritchie, your assistant seems to think that if I don’t hand over my winning lottery ticket, my position as the female lead is…” He cut me off before I could finish. “He’s right. Any other questions?” I was stunned into silence. Are all famous directors this arrogant? Seeing my call had failed, Mills’s face split into a triumphant grin. “Well, well, Miss Yang. I thought you might actually know Mr. Ritchie. Turns out he couldn’t care less about you. I’d just hand over the ticket if I were you. Plenty of other actresses on this set are dying for a shot at this role.” He was convinced I had no connections, and he piled on the threats and empty promises. “Does your director’s team have any principles at all?” I shot back. “You gave me the ticket. Now that it’s a winner, you want it back? You want to have your cake and eat it too, is that it?” I pointed up at the security camera mounted on the ceiling. “That thing is recording, you know. If you don’t back off right now, I’m calling the cops.” The threat of police didn’t faze him in the slightest. In fact, it only made him bolder. “Save your breath,” he sneered. “Everyone on this set works for Mr. Ritchie. Who do you think the police are going to believe?” Before I could react, he snatched the phone out of my hand. “Just give it up, Miss Yang! Hand over the ticket, and the lead role is still yours. It’s that simple.” In all my years working here, I’d been nothing but professional. I never once played the diva, despite my father being one of the richest men in the country. Now, this crew was ready to toss me aside for a damn lottery ticket. A hot coil of fury tightened in my gut. “What isn’t mine, I don’t fight for,” I said, my voice low and steady. “But what is mine, no one will take from me.” A wave of gasps rippled through the crew members gathered around us. “My god, she’s got some nerve. Defying Mr. Ritchie? She’ll be blacklisted from the industry.” “It’s just a lottery ticket! Isn’t a lead role a hundred times more valuable?” “Seriously. If it were me, I’d give them the ticket. This role could make her a star overnight!” As the whispers grew louder, Mills’s smirk widened. “You hear that, Miss Yang? The choice is yours. Become a star, or go back to being a nobody. You’d better think carefully.” His threats were laughable. I didn’t even have to think about it. “No need to consider.” I met his gaze, a defiant smile playing on my lips. “The lottery ticket, and the lead role. I’m taking both.” “You little bitch, are you messing with me?” he snarled. Cursing wasn’t enough for him. He rolled up his sleeves and lunged at me. Drawing on years of stunt work and fight choreography, I sidestepped him effortlessly. “What’s this? The famous director’s assistant can’t threaten his way to what he wants, so now he’s resorting to assault?” Caught in the act, Mills’s face turned a shade of crimson. “You just wait, you bitch! I’m calling Mr. Ritchie right now!” I crossed my arms, my smile unwavering. “Good. I’d love to see what this brilliant, award-winning young director is really made of.” Just then, the door to the dressing room was kicked open with a loud bang. “Who’s causing trouble on my set?” 2 A tall, handsome young man, flanked by an entourage of crew members, strode toward me. “You’re Ethan Ritchie?” I sized him up. I had to admit, my dad had good taste. He was at least six-foot-one, dressed in a tailored designer suit that screamed style and confidence. But I was confused. He was a director, so why was he dressed like a runway model? “Mr. Ritchie, a pleasure to meet you. Allow me to introduce myself,” I began. “My name is Zoe Yang, I’m the lead actress in this series, and my father is—” “Miss Yang, do I know you?” Ethan cut me off with an impatient wave of his hand. “I’ve seen a hundred actresses just like you on this circuit,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “So, tell me. Which executive did you sleep with to get this part? Mr. Knight? Mr. Garrett? Or was it Mr. Sterling? Oh, wait, that’s right. Mr. Sterling adores his wife. You wouldn’t have had a chance in hell with him.” For a moment, I thought I’d misheard him. I had hustled on these backlots for three years. My acting might not have been Oscar-worthy, but it was solid. The Mr. Sterling he mentioned was, in fact, my father, but since entering this industry, I had never once used my family’s resources. Even my dad didn’t know I was the lead in his latest investment until after filming had started. “Mr. Ritchie, that’s a pretty unprofessional thing to say in front of all these people, don’t you think?” He let out a derisive snort. “First day in the business, sweetheart?” “Actresses like you—young, no real credits to your name—how else do you think you get ahead? You sell the only thing you have.” He let his eyes roam over my body in a way that made my skin crawl. “Next time you want a lead role, come to me. I’m much easier to please than those old men.” The dressing room erupted in whispers. “So that’s how she got the part. She slept with the investors.” “There are tons of actresses like her around here. Spread your legs, and a role just falls into your lap. Nothing to be proud of.” “I can’t believe it. She was just lecturing us about having principles, and she was the first one to take her clothes off.” The buzz of their judgment was disorienting. When had I supposedly been trading sex for roles? If I really wanted a lead part, all it would take was a single phone call from my father. “Well, since you’ve made your opinion of me so clear, Mr. Ritchie,” I said coolly, “then… I suggest you find someone else.” Before the words were fully out of my mouth, Mills jumped in. “Who the hell do you think you are, Yang? Mr. Ritchie hasn’t fired you yet. You don’t get to just walk away!” He played the part of the loyal dog to perfection. Even I, a professionally trained actress, was impressed by his performance. “With a director like him running the show,” I said, my voice ringing with finality, “I wouldn’t want to be the lead anyway.” Ethan just waved a dismissive hand. “You actresses and your little games of playing hard to get. It’s so predictable.” He pulled a key card from his pocket and held it out to me. “The Grand Marriott, Room 808. Be there tonight. And be clean.” I glanced down at the key card and let out a cold laugh. “Mr. Ritchie, I think you misunderstood me. I’m just telling you… you don’t deserve to be a director.” I turned to leave, but Mills’s voice stopped me in my tracks. “Hold it right there, Yang!” I paused and slowly turned back. “What now? Did Mr. Ritchie have a sudden change of heart?” Mills leisurely pulled a contract from his briefcase. “Playing the innocent saint? You’d better have the bank account to back it up.” 3 The assistant strutted over, holding the contract out like a weapon. I barely glanced at it before giving a dismissive wave. “Just tell me how much. I’ll pay it.” Ethan, who had been watching from the side, looked at me with a flicker of surprise. My lack of panic seemed to throw him off. “Pay it? Can you afford to?” he scoffed. “The contract is crystal clear. If an actor terminates the agreement unilaterally, you owe the production three times the penalty fee.” I raised an eyebrow, a faint smile on my lips. “Mr. Ritchie, just name the price. Whether I can afford it is my problem, not yours.” “One and a half million dollars!” Mills blurted out. A collective gasp went through the crew. Even Ethan seemed taken aback. “Mills, this is just a short-form series. The entire budget is less than that. Isn’t that a bit steep for replacing one actress?” But Mills was resolute. “Not at all, Mr. Ritchie. You’re thinking too small. You just won a major international award. You’re not the same director you were yesterday. And this is your first project since winning. It’s significant! Making that little bitch pay only one and a half million is us being merciful.” Ethan considered it for a moment, then slapped his thigh. “You know, you’ve got a point. My status alone is worth that much!” I had no interest in dragging this out. “Fine,” I said. “One and a half million it is. I’ll pay.” Every eye in the room was now fixed on me. Some of them clearly thought I was bluffing, trying to save face when I didn’t have a penny to my name. Others figured I was just putting on a show of innocence and would end up at the hotel room by midnight. None of their opinions mattered. What mattered was the rage simmering inside me. How did a director with such a vile mindset win an international award? Were the judges blind? And the most infuriating part? He had even fooled my father, the man who wanted me to go on a date with this scumbag. “Well, gentlemen, since I’ve agreed to your terms, may I leave now?” With that, I snatched the contract from Mills’s hand. But as I turned to go, he blocked my path once again. “You can go. But the lottery ticket stays.” At his words, the crew members loyal to him chimed in. “That’s right! The tickets were bought for the whole production. She can’t take it!” “You’re not part of the cast anymore, so you definitely have no right to it!” Looking at the familiar faces now turned against me, I felt a sharp sting of disappointment. During my time as an extra, I had always shared whatever I had with these people. Now, over a single piece of paper, they were treating me like an enemy. My eyes swept over the crowd as a cold laugh escaped my lips. “You know… I tried to get along with you all as a regular person. But all that got me was your contempt.” I took a deep breath. “Fine. My father is Liam Sterling. I’m laying my cards on the table.” 4 The room erupted in laughter. “That’s hilarious! If your dad is Liam Sterling, then my dad is Elon Musk!” “Yeah, right. What daughter of a billionaire is out here shooting a low-budget series?” Mills sauntered toward me, a malicious grin on his face. “Miss Yang, you’re not trying to welsh on the deal, are you? Everyone knows the city’s richest man is named Sterling, not Yang.” A smirk touched my lips as I pulled out my phone in front of everyone. “Hi, Dad. It’s Zoe.” His voice was cheerful on the other end. “Zoe! How’s it going? Have you thought about that blind date?” he asked. “You’ve loved acting since you were a little girl. Are you happy with the match I made for you?” My gaze drifted pointedly toward Ethan. “Dad, the date is a long story. But there’s something I need to tell you first.” I paused. “I don’t want to act anymore.” “What did you say!?” His shock and anger practically exploded through the phone. “Zoe, are you kidding me? Your lifelong dream was to be a leading actress. What do you mean you’re quitting?” I took a steadying breath. “I’m not kidding, Dad. I’m serious. If being an actress means I have to sleep with the director, then I’d rather not have the part at all.” I quickly recounted the events of the last hour. I heard the sound of a glass shattering on his end. “Put that son of a bitch on the phone. Now.” Before I could say anything, Mills snatched the phone from my hand, along with the lottery ticket. “Hey, you the little bitch’s father?” he sneered into the phone. “Let me tell you something. Your daughter just pissed off the one and only Ethan Ritchie. Do you have any idea what that means?” My dad, who probably hadn’t been spoken to like that in decades, was silent for a few seconds. “You’re the one who told my daughter to hand over the ticket and pay a penalty?” Mills, still blissfully unaware of who he was talking to, remained as arrogant as ever. “Cut the crap. Are you going to pay or not?” Even through the phone, I could feel the inferno of my father’s rage. “Pay? Is one and a half million a little low? How about I make it fifteen million?” he roared. “Give me your location. I’ll have the money sent over right now.” Mills, clearly thinking my dad was just some blowhard, shot back. “Don’t bullshit me, old man! You’ve never even seen fifteen million dollars in your life! But you know what? If you’ve got the guts to send it, I’ve got the guts to take it. Studio lot B. And I want it in cash.” After hanging up, Mills shot a triumphant look at Ethan, his chest puffed out with pride. I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. “I have to hand it to you, Mr. Ritchie. You’ve got yourself a one-of-a-kind assistant,” I said. “He even dares to curse out my father. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so brave.” Mills just snorted, completely unfazed. “Whatever. I don’t care who your dad is. On this set, what Mr. Ritchie says is law.” I sighed dramatically, a smile playing on my lips. “That’s a real shame. Because your Mr. Ritchie is about to be unemployed.” Just as the words left my mouth, someone in the crowd yelled. “Hey, look over there!” Everyone turned. A convoy of a dozen armored trucks, each emblazoned with the investor’s logo, was rolling steadily toward our set.

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1 Everyone said Caleb Stone loved me to the bone. To marry me, he defied his parents, even enduring his family’s brutal “discipline”—ninety-nine lashes with a cane. But on the day of our wedding, for the sake of a young housekeeper, he was willing to give up his inheritance just to marry her instead. His grandfather, the patriarch of the Stone family, finally relented. When I confronted him, my heart shattering, he could only look at me with reddened eyes and say, “Kelly, you have to believe me. You’re the one I love.” “As for Jenna,” he continued, his voice choked with a twisted sense of duty, “when my enemies drugged me, she saved me by giving me her body. I have to be responsible for her.” From that day on, I became his secret lover, hidden away in the shadows. Until the day Jenna had a miscarriage. Without any investigation, Caleb decided I was to blame. He ordered his men to beat the six-month-old child from my womb. “Kelly Hope,” he spat, his voice laced with venom, “I never knew you were so malicious. You killed Jenna’s baby, so don’t even think about keeping yours!” I was beaten with a wooden rod until I vomited blood and died. One body, two graves. … This time, I woke up on my wedding day. “Kelly, I’m only marrying Jenna to repay a debt.” “She’s just a small-town girl. If people found out she wasn’t a virgin before marriage, the gossip would destroy her.” “You’re different,” he pleaded, his voice a familiar poison in my ear. “You grew up in the city. You’re worldly, open-minded. Even if you’re with me, no one will dare say a word.” “Marriage is just a formality. The one I love will always be you.” The voice… I was back. I had been reborn. In my last life, Caleb had knelt before me just like this, begging. He had deliberately shown me the vicious welts on his back to soften my heart. The thought that he had endured ninety-nine lashes for me made me agree to anything. And so, my nightmare began. When Jenna got pregnant, he forced me to wait on her hand and foot. When her deadbeat brother came demanding money, he sent me to deal with him. If I hadn’t sensed danger and called the police beforehand, I would have been assaulted. The terror of that encounter left me unable to leave my apartment for a month. Caleb’s only response was a cold accusation: “Why were you dressed like that? You were asking for it.” He grabbed my hand and forced me to sign a settlement agreement, absolving the man. “She’s my wife,” he said flatly. “Shouldn’t I help my wife instead of my mistress?” I endured it all. I kept enduring until the very end, until I watched him murder me and our child. “Kelly?” Caleb’s voice, soft and cautious, pulled me from the horrifying memories. I yanked my hand from his grasp. “By your logic, every high-society woman in the city should be content to be a mistress,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “You may have no shame, Caleb, but I do.” I snatched a pair of scissors from a nearby table and plunged them into the pristine white fabric of my wedding dress. With a savage rip, I sliced through the layers of silk and tulle. The heavy skirt fell to the floor in a heap. The color drained from Caleb’s face. “Since you’ve chosen Jenna, then stay the hell away from me. This wedding is off.” I shoved him aside, gathered the butchered remains of my dress, and stormed out. Caleb tried to follow, but Jenna appeared as if from nowhere, grabbing his arm. “Caleb, if you leave today, what will people think of me?” she whispered, her eyes wide and innocent. “Once the ceremony is over, I’ll go with you to apologize to Kelly, okay?” Bound by the pretense of honor, Caleb went through with the wedding. The bride was just a different woman. My parents, who had rushed to attend the ceremony, found me standing outside the hotel, stunned. I gave them the short version of the story. My father’s face contorted with rage, ready to storm in, but I stopped him. “Dad,” I said, my voice eerily calm, “could you call the Croft family? They made an offer before… if I married their son, they’d invest three hundred million. Is that deal still on the table?” My mother’s eyes filled with tears. “He was the one who wronged you, darling. You don’t have to do this, to marry a…” She trailed off, but we all knew what she meant. Sebastian Croft, the heir to the Croft empire, was rumored to be gay. “I’m not doing this out of spite,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ve just realized that even the deepest love can fade. Compared to something as fleeting as affection, money and status are far more real.” “Isn’t marriage just a transaction, anyway? Sebastian Croft likes men. He won’t bother me. I’d prefer the peace and quiet.” My father was silent for a long time before he finally made the call. The answer came back quickly. “The agreement stands, but the terms have changed. Marry within a month, and the investment is yours. Otherwise, the deal is off.” “I accept,” I said without a moment’s hesitation. In this new life, I would never make the same mistake again. 2 The Croft family sent their lawyers. We negotiated for the entire afternoon, finally setting the wedding for two weeks from now. By the end of the day, I was so exhausted I didn’t even glance at my phone. I went home and fell into a dead sleep. In the middle of the night, a faint noise woke me. My eyes snapped open. A dark figure was standing by my bed. A scream caught in my throat. “Kelly, it’s me.” “Caleb?” I couldn’t believe it. I had changed the passcode to my apartment the moment I got home. How did he get in? He draped his jacket over a nearby chair. “A man should spend his wedding night with the woman he loves. As for you… blocking me on social media, changing the locks… are you really that angry?” My eyes fell on a dark, unmistakable mark on his neck—a love bite. I sneered. “The woman he loves?” After sleeping with Jenna, you come here and talk about love? Your love is cheap, Caleb. He took a step closer, his gaze burning. “You can fool everyone else, Kelly, but you can’t fool me. You changed the passcode, but you left my fingerprint access… you were waiting for me.” Crack. The sound of my hand connecting with his cheek echoed in the silent room. He stumbled back, stunned. “Are you awake now?” I hissed. “Good. Now get out. You’re filthy, and I don’t want you here.” “I forgot to delete your fingerprint. That’s all. Don’t flatter yourself.” I grabbed my phone and, right in front of him, deleted his access from the system. Caleb’s face hardened, his eyes locking onto me. After a long moment, he let out a bitter laugh. “So this is still about Jenna. It’s just a title, Kelly. Why do you care so much?” “Besides,” he added, his voice dripping with condescension, “Jenna is being very gracious about this. She was even generous enough to give you her wedding night. What more could you possibly want?” I’d lost count of how many times he’d accused me of being petty about Jenna. In my last life, she had “accidentally” shattered my mother’s heirloom necklace. She had stood there, crying, insisting it wasn’t her fault. Caleb hadn’t even looked at me. He just berated me for being “aggressive” and forced me to apologize to her. In front of everyone, he had physically pushed my shoulders down, making me bow to a housekeeper. He had personally crushed my dignity into the dirt. Later, when I was pregnant, he made me kneel for an hour as punishment because I didn’t share the special prenatal tonics my mother had sourced from specialists with Jenna. “We have money for supplements, Kelly. What’s the big deal if you prepare a portion for her? She tolerates you being my mistress, can’t you show her a little consideration?” But my mother had pulled countless strings to get them. There was only one course. And I had watched him, spoon by spoon, feed what was meant for me and our child to another woman. That was the moment I understood. His so-called love was just poison coated in honey. And I was the fool who had wasted a lifetime drinking it. His voice pulled me back to the present. I looked up at the man who had been my ruin. “Want to make a bet? I guarantee that within thirty minutes, Jenna will call you back with some excuse.” He looked at me as if I’d told a ridiculous joke, his eyes filled with scorn. “Fine. Jenna’s not that kind of—” Before he could finish, his phone rang. The name “Jenna” glowed on the screen. His expression was a mixture of confusion and frustration. After a long pause, he turned and left the bedroom to take the call. When he returned, he had his excuse ready. “Jenna said she cut her hand while making a late-night snack. The house staff isn’t there, so I’m just going to go check on her.” He stood to leave, his concern for her written all over his face. “Wait.” Caleb thought I was trying to stop him, and his voice became impatient. “Yes, Jenna called. But it’s because she was hurt and needed my help. Don’t project your own cynical worldview onto her, Kelly.” I just stared at him, my heart a placid, frozen lake. This wasn’t the first time he’d abandoned me for her. On my birthday, while everyone was celebrating with me, my own boyfriend was hiding on the balcony, cooing sweet nothings to another woman. When I caught him, he was indignant. “You have plenty of people here with you. It’s not like you need me. Besides, Jenna’s had headaches for days. I was just telling her a story to help her sleep. Are you going to control that, too?” “Don’t you forget who saved me when I was drugged, Kelly! I am repaying a debt!” I had tried to tell him there was more to that story, but he always cut me off. “Whatever excuse you have, it doesn’t change the fact that Jenna was the one who saved me!” Watching him choose her, again and again, I had suppressed my unease, telling myself he was just repaying a debt. After all, our love had once been so passionate. He had defied his entire family to invest in my father’s failing company, had taken a beating just to marry me, all to prove to the world that he would give up everything for me. And in the end, on our wedding day, he gave it all up for Jenna. I walked over to the chair, picked up his jacket, and shoved it into his chest. “I’m getting married, Caleb. I’d appreciate it if you, a married man, would stop harassing me.” “Otherwise, I’ll call the police.” “I’m sure you wouldn’t want a headline like ‘Heir to Stone Industries Forces Fiancée of Rival into Mistress Role’ to start trending, would you?” His eyes widened in shock. I slammed the door shut. But his hand shot out, jamming the door before it could latch. “Kelly,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Are you threatening me?” Before I could answer, he pushed the door open again. Our eyes met, and a slow, cruel smile spread across his face. “If you have the guts, Kelly, look me in the eye and say that again.” It was a rule we’d made when we were dating: when you say you love someone, you look them in the eye. The same goes for when you don’t. He was certain I was just bluffing, trying to force me to back down. I simply took a step back and met his gaze without flinching. “I said, I’m getting married.” He let out a short, sharp laugh. “Everyone in our circle knows you’re obsessed with me, Kelly. Do you really have it in you to leave me?” His smile vanished. “Alright, that’s enough. I don’t like these games. Don’t let me hear you say that again.” “Jenna’s waiting for me. I’m leaving.” As his figure disappeared down the hall, I whispered to the empty air, “I’m serious this time, Caleb. I don’t want you anymore.”

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Whenever Sebastian fights with his first love, he buys me bags, shoes, and bracelets. I accept them happily. After all, I was specifically hired to make his first love jealous. Eventually, I became financially independent and happily became the sugar mommy to a young, aspiring idol. Then Sebastian told me, “Actually, you’re better. Let’s start a sweet, healthy relationship for real!” Huh? But what about my puppy dog idol? 1 When Vanessa returned to the States, everyone thought Sebastian would dump me. After all, Vanessa was his true first love. I was just the replacement. “She’s only made money because her eyes look a bit like Vanessa’s.” That’s how people described me. When Sebastian heard this, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he quietly pulled strings behind the scenes, drowning the gossiper in debt until they went bankrupt. Yes. Sebastian didn’t dump me. He treated me even better. New designer bags arrived one after another. Necklaces upgraded from regular diamonds to rare pink diamonds auctioned for astronomical prices. Besides that. My bank account would randomly receive transfers of hundreds of thousands of dollars. From Sebastian. Labeled: Voluntary Gift. Rumors started circulating in our circle that I, the substitute, had finally made it. That I was going to be the official Mrs. Sterling. Until I bumped into Vanessa. “You’re the girl Sebastian is keeping on the side? Jane?” She looked me up and down carelessly. “You do look a little like me.” In her eyes. Disdain, contempt, arrogance. “Sebastian hasn’t touched you in a long time, has he?” She whispered in my ear, “Every time we fight, he runs off to spend money on you.” That’s right. Buying me gifts, sending me money. All of it was just to piss off Vanessa. She was Sebastian’s “the one that got away.” Years ago, she dumped Sebastian for her career and went abroad to study, leaving without a backward glance. Until Sebastian became successful. Then she came back. People said she didn’t do well overseas, so now she was running back with her tail between her legs. Everyone knew what she was after. But clearly, Sebastian didn’t care about her motives. “Do you know?” “Every time he spends money on you.” Vanessa smiled, her tone suggestive. “The angrier I get, the harder we go at it when we make up.” 2 I knew she came specifically to tell me this today. To embarrass me. To make me realize my place and leave on my own. After all, the original was back. What business did the replacement have staying in the nest? But I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. Her relationship with Sebastian was ancient history. And Sebastian hadn’t broken up with me yet. Lately, they had a small fight every two days and a big fight every three. A few more fights, and the balance in my account could buy a penthouse in Manhattan outright. Besides. I recently set my sights on a little puppy dog. He’s poor but dreams of going from D-list to A-list. I plan to sponsor him. I need the money. 3 Everyone thought I was desperately in love with Sebastian. But actually, I couldn’t even remember his face. I was born face blind. Most of the time, I had to rely on voices to distinguish people. “What are you thinking about so deeply?” Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, looking down at me. Eyes were eyes, a nose was a nose. He wasn’t ugly. But as soon as I looked away. I forgot what he looked like completely. Meeting his gaze, I smiled, my tone relaxed. “Thinking about what my life would be like if I hadn’t met you.” Thinking back now, without Sebastian. My life would have been hard. Since I can remember, my dad drank, and my mom gambled. When I was seventeen, after racking up huge debts, they came up with a plan. A fifty-year-old widower in the next town was offering a high price for a wife. That money would cover their debts perfectly. Since I was face blind anyway. Even if the widower had a face full of acne, a pig nose, and yellow buckteeth. I’d forget what he looked like as soon as I turned around. Heartless and lungless, I’d fit right in. But unexpectedly. The Sterling Group planned to acquire our town and turn it into a resort. Sebastian came to negotiate the acquisition. He just happened to glance at me. Buying land turned into buying me. Even now, when bringing this up. Sebastian still couldn’t hide the anger in his eyes. “Your parents were too much.” He pressed his thin lips together, hugging me tight, and sighed. “Jane, if only I had met you sooner.” 4 Sebastian always said this— Meeting me sooner would have saved me a lot of suffering. At first, I was dizzy from such sweet words. I really thought Sebastian liked me that much. But then one time. I saw a photo in the wallet he never let out of his sight. To be precise, it was an ID photo. Two inches, white background. The girl in the photo looked young, smiling brightly. Because of my face blindness, I shouldn’t have been able to recognize her. But the girl’s eyes and brows. Looked seventy percent like mine. That day, I finally understood that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. I could be a toy, I could be a boredom-relieving substitute. But I could never be the one in Sebastian’s heart. My dignity screamed at me to break up. But my brain told me that compared to the assets and lifestyle Sebastian provided. My dignity was worthless. Was I sad? Actually, a little bit. But soon, I realized. If it had been someone else being sold that day, would Sebastian have saved them? Yes. Actually, he didn’t care if he saved Jane, Mary, or Sue. He just couldn’t bear to see a girl who looked somewhat like his first love fall into such a situation. If Sebastian didn’t find me, he would have found someone else— So I might as well earn this money. I needed money. I liked money. And obedient, docile, sweet-talking. I could act out all the things he liked.

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One month before the SATs, I started seeing my score floating above my head. It was a curse. Every time I completed a practice test, the number dropped by ten points. But for every day I skipped school to party, it went up by ten. I spent an entire month partying. The number above my head climbed to a perfect 1600. But when the actual results came out, I scored a 400. The 1600? That was my younger brother’s score. My parents, furious and humiliated, disowned me and kicked me out to work in a factory. That same night, I was cornered in a dark alley by a group of thugs and beaten to death. As I lay dying in a pool of my own blood, I heard my brother’s voice. “You always thought you were smarter than me, Nathan. But in the end, you were just a fool who believed the number above his head.” That was when I realized: the score I saw was controlled by him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. It was exactly one month before the SATs. Above my head, the neon number read 1300. “Nathan, let’s do some practice questions tonight,” my brother, Caleb, said with a sweet smile. I looked at him, grabbed the practice sheet in my hand, and lit it on fire with my lighter. “Exams are coming up. I’m done studying.” The number above my head ticked up by 10 points. Caleb feigned disappointment, but the moment I turned around, I saw the smirk curl the corners of his lips. He has no idea. The show I’ve prepared for him is just beginning. Chapter 1 After rejecting Caleb’s invitation, I headed straight for my bedroom. But Caleb wasn’t ready to let me off the hook. He followed me, suggesting we go see a tutor. I slapped his hand away. “Cramming now is useless. Go by yourself if you care so much. I’m going to play video games.” “Nathan, I know you’re smart, but don’t get cocky,” Caleb said, repeating the exact words he used in my past life. He was testing me. He wanted to see if I truly believed the hallucination above my head. I met his gaze and smiled lazily. “Even without studying, I’ll score higher than you.” Caleb looked down, acting hurt, but he couldn’t hide the gleam of triumph in his eyes. Watching his retreating back, I sneered. Caleb, this time, you’re the one who shouldn’t get cocky. Back in my room, the score above my head had jumped to 1350. But the moment I cracked open a textbook, it began to plummet. By the time I finished reviewing the last chapter of calculus, it had dropped to 1200. I pulled up the feed from the micro-camera I had planted on Caleb earlier. On my screen, I saw him pacing his room, looking frantic. “Why is Nathan’s score dropping? I knew that bastard was lying! He says he’s not studying, but he’s grinding behind my back. Why doesn’t he believe the projection?” A distorted voice replied from his phone speaker. “Calm down. If his score drops below 1000, the neural feedback will trigger a migraine so severe it’ll feel like an explosion. If he keeps studying, he’s just torturing himself.” My heart skipped a beat. Neural feedback? Caleb laughed, his face twisting. “Good. If his brain fries, he deserves it for trying to play me.” Watching the score continue to freefall, I frowned. I needed a way to trick the system. I spent the next hour testing variables. No matter what I did in the room, the score dropped. When it hit 1000, the number turned red and started flashing. A sharp pain stabbed at my temples. I panicked. I slammed the book shut, grabbed my keys, and drove straight to a high-end lounge downtown. I booked a private room and ordered a bottle. Only when the score climbed back up to 1400 did the pain subside. Back on the monitor, Caleb noticed the rise. “I knew it. Nathan is an idiot. He fell for it.” “He’s probably out partying right now. He must be so happy seeing that score go up while he does nothing.” “That moron actually thinks he’s getting a 1400. That score belongs to me!” Watching Caleb celebrate my “stupidity,” I poured myself a drink and smirked. He didn’t know I had already figured out the glitch in his little game. Chapter 2 I tossed the chalk onto the floor. I lay back on the velvet sofa of the VIP lounge, admiring the walls. They were covered—floor to ceiling—in complex mathematical formulas. This was what I had actually been doing all night. Because I was in a “leisure environment” and technically “wasting money,” the system didn’t register my mental work. The score above my head remained high. A waiter knocked, reminding me the tab was due. I dialed Caleb. “Bro, I’m stuck at the lounge. Cards are maxed out. Send me some cash, quick.” “A lounge? Nathan, how could you go to a place like that right now?” Caleb’s voice feigned shock and concern. “I needed to blow off steam before the test. Don’t tell Mom and Dad, okay? Just transfer me two grand.” “You should come home and study,” he chided. “Are you my brother or not? If the club calls Dad, I’m dead. I’ll be locked in my room studying for weeks. Just help me out. I need to relax.” Caleb sighed, acting reluctant. “Fine. But you have to promise to study eventually.” I agreed effortlessly and hung up. Caleb transferred me three grand—his entire savings. He wanted me to stay here and rot. I took his money and lived in that lounge for a month. I only returned home the day before the SATs, sporting dark circles under my eyes. Above my head, the neon number blazed: 1600. Caleb smiled, handing me my admission ticket. “You’re finally back. Just in time for the test.” “You useless waste of space!” My mother screamed from the living room. “The biggest exam of your life, and you disappear for a month to party?” “Why did you even come back? You should have died in a gutter!” Her words stung, even though I knew she had always favored Caleb. I tried to force a bitter smile, but my father was faster. He slapped me across the face. “Don’t you dare smirk at me! You degenerate!” “If it weren’t for your grandmother insisting, I wouldn’t even let you sit for the exam!” He grabbed my ear, twisting it violently. When I tried to pull away, he kicked my knee, sending me crashing to the floor. “You spent a month in a club with god knows who? You probably have a drug habit or a pregnant stripper chasing you by now!” He kicked me toward my room. “I should just lock you in here!” Caleb intervened, playing the saint. “Dad, stop! Grandma said Nathan has to take the test. We can’t disobey Grandma.” At the mention of the family matriarch—the one who controlled the trust fund—Dad hesitated. He shoved me toward the door. “Go. It’s a waste of time anyway.” I clutched my burning ear and limped to the car. Caleb and I were driven to the testing center. After the exams were over, Caleb rushed out of the center, beaming at our parents. “I crushed it. I feel like I got everything right. Can we throw the celebration party the day the scores drop?” Mom and Dad looked at him with pure adoration. “If you’re that confident, Caleb, of course. We’ll invite Grandma, too. She needs to see your success.” “Yes! Grandma always favors Nathan, but this time, I’m going to give her a real surprise.” At that moment, the floating number above my head flickered and vanished. I watched Caleb’s confident strut and smiled. Oh, little brother. You’re in for a surprise, alright. Chapter 3 The day after the exam, my parents took Caleb on a luxury graduation trip to Europe. They left me behind. I wasn’t sad; I was relieved. With the house empty, I could finally work. I dialed a number I had memorized by heart. “Professor, I solved the equation you sent me last month.” The voice on the other end gasped. “Nathan? You actually cracked the Riemann hypothesis variant? This is… this is going to change everything for the institute!” The Professor sent a car for me immediately. I spent the next month at the Advanced Research Institute, working on proofs and algorithms. I didn’t leave until the day the SAT scores were released. The Professor’s driver dropped me off at the hotel where my family was holding the “Celebration Banquet.” I walked into the ballroom. My parents and Caleb, tan from their trip, were surrounded by socialites and business partners. “Mr. Xu, you are so blessed. Two bright sons.” “It’s an honor to be associated with the Xu family.” The crowd wasn’t just here for test scores. Grandma, the iron-fisted matriarch of the Xu Corporation, had declared that whoever got into the better university would inherit her controlling shares. Today wasn’t a party. It was a coronation. I took a deep breath and walked straight to Grandma. She smiled, her eyes crinkling. “Confident, Nathan?” I nodded. “I won’t let you down, Grandma.” In my past life, Grandma was the only one who loved me. But after Caleb framed me and my score tanked, she died of a heart attack three days later, heartbroken by my ‘failure.’ I wouldn’t let that happen again. “Nathan, why lie to Grandma?” Caleb’s voice cut through the air. He marched over, phone in hand. “You spent a month getting drunk in a lounge. How could you possibly do well?” He flashed photos of me in the club, surrounded by bottles, to the guests. Dad looked at me with pure disgust. “If I were you, I wouldn’t have shown my face today.” “Caleb is estimating a 1580. You probably didn’t even break 800. After today, the company belongs to your brother. You’ll be begging him for scraps.” “A loser preparing to leach off his brother… pathetic.” The guests whispered and laughed. “I saw him downtown. He had a bottle in one hand and a girl in the other. Living the life.” “A 1580? That’s Ivy League material. Probably Harvard or MIT.” “Caleb has always been the smart, handsome one. The company is safe in his hands.” I scanned the room of sycophants. “The scores aren’t even out yet. You’re all licking his boots a little early, aren’t you?” “Watch your mouth!” Dad snapped. “Bad grades and bad manners.” “Someone’s delusional,” a guest laughed. “If partying got you into Yale, the clubs would be libraries.” My dad slammed his car keys on the table—keys to a McLaren. “If you beat Caleb, this car is yours.” I laughed. “Just a car? I thought you were a big shot, Dad.” “If you trust Caleb so much, why not bet all your properties?” Mom hesitated, but the crowd egged them on. “A 1580 is a lock! Nathan has no chance.” “Exactly. Even if you bet the whole estate, Nathan isn’t taking a dime.” I raised an eyebrow. “So, Dad? All your assets. Let’s see your confidence.” Dad wavered, but Mom whispered, “What are you afraid of? He’s trash.” Caleb nodded. “Trust me, Dad.” Dad puffed out his chest. “Fine! Whichever son gets into the better school gets all my personal assets. Grandma is the witness!” Just then, the online portal for scores opened. Caleb stepped up. “I’ll go first. Let’s verify my estimate.” He typed in his info with a flourish. The screen refreshed. Chapter 4 1580. The room erupted. “1580! It’s real! Caleb is practically the CEO already.” “A young man of such character and intelligence. We are in good hands.” I frowned slightly. The number was high—exactly what he needed. Dad looked at me like I was a cockroach. “Wipe that look off your face. From now on, you serve your brother. Be a good dog, and maybe we won’t starve you.” “If you drag Caleb down, I’ll kill you myself.” I looked at him calmly. “I haven’t checked my score yet. Are you sure I’m the dog in this scenario?” Slap! Mom hit me across the face. “Ungrateful brat! You wish you could serve Caleb!” Caleb looked at me with mock pity, which quickly turned to venom. “Nathan, I don’t know why you hate me. But if your score is lower than mine, I want you to kneel and apologize for disrespecting Dad.” He shoved the laptop toward me. “Check it.” Under the gaze of hundreds, I typed in my info. The screen loaded. I blinked. 400. It happened again. My score and Caleb’s score combined… roughly equaled a perfect score plus the baseline. He had siphoned everything. “400? You get 400 just for signing your name!” “Brain dead. Thank god he’s not the heir.” “All that arrogance for a 400?” Caleb sneered. “Nathan, kneel.” “You’re clearly mentally unstable. As the new CEO, I’ll send you to a specialized facility. I hear the shock therapy does wonders.” “But if you beg nicely, maybe I’ll let you be treated at home.” “Kneel? You’re not worthy,” I said. Caleb kicked the back of my knee. Dad grabbed my shoulder and forced me down. I looked at Grandma. She sighed, her eyes dull. “Nathan… I am so disappointed.” “Grandma, the admissions letters haven’t come out yet!” I shouted. The crowd laughed. “Admissions? With a 400? Maybe community college… if they’re desperate.” “Is he delusional?” “Caleb is too nice. Just kick him out.” Caleb sighed theatrically. “Nathan, you see? You have to kneel, or the investors won’t respect me.” He signaled security. A guard kicked my other knee, forcing me to the ground. I tried to stand, but Caleb stepped on my face, grinding his heel into my cheek. “Nathan,” he whispered, “I want you to watch me get into MIT while you rot. When I leave for college, I’ll have your tendons cut. You’ll be a cripple forever.” He laughed, standing up as the doors opened. The admissions representatives from the top universities had arrived. “Watch this,” Caleb said, walking toward them with open arms. But as he reached them, his smile froze. The show was about to start.

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“The company’s been dissolved.” Mark slid the divorce papers across the table to me. “What?” “We’ve been in the red for three years. We’re three hundred thousand in debt,” he sighed. “I’ve sold the house to cover it. We’ll split whatever’s left.” I just stared at him. Eight years. I was with him from a rented apartment startup to a company valued at over a million dollars. “Last month you told me you landed three huge contracts.” “They fell through.” He offered me a pen. “Just sign it, Leah. It’s better for everyone.” I didn’t take it. “Mark, when was the company dissolved?” “Last week.” I glanced at my phone. It was Monday, 3:00 PM. The state business registry showed the dissolution time: today, at 2:00 PM. An hour ago. 1 I turned my phone screen toward him. “You said last week?” Mark’s eyes flickered for a fraction of a second before he regained his composure. “My mistake. I’ve been swamped lately.” “Busy dissolving the company?” “Leah, what are you getting at?” He frowned. “I didn’t want it to come to this. The business really couldn’t hold on any longer.” I didn’t say a word. Eight years of marriage had taught me everything I needed to know about him. When he lied, his left hand would instinctively twist the wedding band on his finger. Right now, his left hand was hidden under the table. “Where are the debt records?” I asked. “The accountant has them. I’ll have her send them to you.” “Don’t bother,” I said, standing up. “I’ll go get them myself.” “Leah!” He moved to block my way. “What is this? You don’t trust me?” I looked at him, at this face I had known for a decade, loved for eight years. The face of the man who, on one knee, had told me meeting me was the greatest fortune of his life. The man who said we would grow old and gray together. “We’ll see about trust once I’ve seen the books.” I stepped around him and headed for the door. “The company is dissolved! What’s the point of looking at them now?” I stopped. “You’re right.” I turned back. “Once it’s dissolved, the books are meaningless.” He let out a visible sigh of relief. “That’s why I want to see the records from before it was dissolved.” The color drained from his face. “What records?” “Those three big contracts you mentioned last month,” I said, my gaze locked on his. “The agreements, the payment records, the project timelines.” “They all fell through! There’s nothing to see.” “Even failed projects leave a paper trail.” “Leah, what the hell do you want?” he snapped, his voice rising. In all the years I’d known him, he had almost never raised his voice at me. This was a first. “I want the truth.” He froze for a second, then a bitter laugh escaped his lips. “Fine. You want to see them? You’ll see them.” He pulled out his phone and dialed. “Hey, it’s Mark. Could you send my wife the contract files from last month? … Yeah, all of them.” He hung up and looked at me, a smug expression on his face. “Happy now?” I remained silent. Ten minutes later, a file landed in my inbox. Three contracts, totaling over one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. All signed and stamped by the clients. But there was a note attached: Project suspended due to client-side cash flow issues. I looked up at him. He was leaning back in his chair, wearing an I-told-you-so smirk. “Convinced?” “Completely.” I slipped my phone into my purse. “I’m just going to use the restroom.” Inside the stall, I silenced my phone and pulled up the state’s online business database. I typed in the name of the first client company. The search result came back instantly. The company was dissolved three years ago. The second one? Dissolved two years ago. The third? No record of such a company ever existed. I leaned against the cool tile of the bathroom wall, taking a deep, shaky breath. Eight years. I thought I was his wife, his partner. It turns out I was never his wife. Just his piggy bank. 2 When I walked out of the restroom, my expression was a perfect mask of neutrality. Mark was still sitting there. “All good?” “All good.” “Then let’s get this signed.” He pushed the pen toward me again. “The sooner we’re done, the better.” I sat down and picked up the agreement. Four pages. I read through them one by one. The house would be sold by him to cover the debts. The car was his. Our savings would be divided based on whose name they were under. I would get custody of our son, Leo, and he would pay two hundred dollars a month in child support. “Two hundred dollars?” “I don’t have an income right now,” he said with a practiced sigh. “I’ll raise it once I’m back on my feet.” “How much do you have in your personal savings?” “Less than five thousand.” I met his gaze. “We’ve been married for eight years, and you only have five thousand dollars to your name?” “Company finances and personal finances are separate, Leah, you know that,” he said, his tone perfectly calm. “When the company went under, all the money went to pay off creditors.” I nodded slowly. “What about the house?” “There’s still a hundred and seventy thousand left on the mortgage. After we sell it and pay that off, there won’t be enough to cover the rest of the business debt.” “And the car?” “It’s a five-year-old sedan. It’s not worth much.” I set the papers down. “So, what you’re saying is, after eight years of marriage, I walk away with nothing?” “It’s not that you get nothing, Leah, it’s that there is nothing,” he said, his eyes pleading. “I hate this as much as you do, but this is our reality now.” I studied his face. He looked so sincere. So wounded. So utterly helpless. If I hadn’t known those contracts were fake, I might have actually believed him. “I need some time to think.” “Think about what?” he frowned. “Is this about not trusting me again?” “I need to see the complete financial records.” “They’re with the accountant! I told you, I can have her send them over.” “Not those,” I said, standing and grabbing my purse. “I want to see every single financial transaction from the day the company was founded until the day it was dissolved.” His expression hardened. “Leah, what is the meaning of this?” “It means nothing,” I said, walking toward the door. “I’ll sign the papers, but not before every penny is accounted for.” “The books are clean!” he shouted after me. I paused at the doorway. “Then what are you so afraid of?” He had no answer. I walked out of the room, hearing his voice call after me. “Leah, you better think carefully!” I didn’t turn back. “About what?” “About what kind of outcome you really want.” This time, I turned. His face was no longer a mask of wounded pride. It was cold, hard, and utterly unfamiliar. “The outcome I want,” I said, “is the truth.” He laughed, a short, ugly sound. “The truth?” “Yes. The truth.” “Leah,” he said, rising and walking toward me until he stood just inches away. “Some truths are more than you can handle.” I looked him straight in the eye. “You really don’t know me at all, do you?” Then I turned and left. As soon as the law firm’s doors closed behind me, my hands started to shake. It wasn’t fear. It was pure, unadulterated rage. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. “Chloe? Are you still at the office?” “Yeah, I am. What’s up?” “I need you to run a check on someone for me.” “Who?” “Mark.” There was a two-second pause on the other end. “Your Mark?” “Yes.” “Leah, what’s going on?” I took a deep breath, the city air feeling thin in my lungs. “He dissolved his company an hour before asking me for a divorce.” Chloe was silent. “I need to know where his money went for the past eight years.” “Okay,” Chloe’s voice turned sharp and professional. “Send me his social security number.” “And one more thing,” I added. “Check for any signs of hidden debts or asset transfers.” “You got it.” After hanging up, I stood on the sidewalk, watching the river of people flow past. Not a single person knew that in an office just above them, my marriage had just died. It was a quiet death. But I wasn’t going to let it be a mysterious one. 3 When I got home, our son Leo was building a tower of blocks in the living room. Mark’s mother was watching him from the sofa. “You’re back!” she said, standing up and taking my purse with a warm smile. “Have you eaten?” “I have.” “Well, have a glass of water. I just made some chamomile tea.” I looked at her. For the past few months, my mother-in-law had been unusually kind. She used to visit once a month, staying for a couple of days at most. But she’d been living with us for nearly two months now. She said she wanted to spend more time with her grandson. It seemed normal then. Now, it felt all wrong. “Mom, how has Mark’s company been doing lately?” Her hand paused mid-air. She recovered quickly. “Not too well, I don’t think. He doesn’t tell me much.” “So you didn’t know the company was dissolved?” She blinked. “Dissolved?” Her expression was one of perfect surprise. Her eyes, however, were not. “It was dissolved today,” I said, watching her closely. “He didn’t tell you?” “He… he didn’t say a word,” she sighed. “That boy, he never tells me anything.” I offered a thin smile and said nothing more. Leo ran over and hugged my leg. “Mommy, why are you home so early?” “Because Mommy missed you.” I scooped him into my arms. A five-year-old boy, so blissfully unaware. He had no idea that his own father was likely orchestrating a grand deception to strip his mother of everything she had. Mark didn’t come home that night. He sent a text: Out with friends tonight, don’t wait up. I didn’t reply. Instead, I opened my laptop and started piecing together the last eight years. My bank statements, my credit card bills, my transfer histories. My salary account had received just over $200,000 in eight years. I’d spent about $130,000 on household expenses: groceries, Leo’s formula and diapers, preschool tuition, gifts for both our parents. The remaining $70,000 was mostly in my savings account. Mark never touched the household finances. He always said he was in charge of making money, and I was in charge of spending it. I thought it was a sign of trust. Looking back, it was probably part of a much darker strategy. I opened the old profit-and-loss statements he’d shown me before. 2021: Profit $350,000. 2022: Profit $250,000. 2023: Profit $220,000. That was over $800,000 in profit in just three years. Where did it all go? My phone buzzed. A message from Chloe. Found a few things. Let’s meet tomorrow. Okay, I replied. Lying in bed that night, my eyes wide open in the dark, I couldn’t sleep. By the time the sun rose, one thing had become terrifyingly clear. This divorce wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision. It was a carefully planned hunt. And I was the prey. 4 The next day, I met Chloe at a café. She pushed a file across the table. “Start with this.” It was a share transfer agreement. I opened it. The date was from six months ago. Mark had transferred 45% of his company shares to someone named Tina Miller, for the price of one dollar. “Who is Tina Miller?” “I checked her out. Her ID lists an address in Florida,” Chloe said, watching me. “But she owns a condo here. In the city.” “When did she buy it?” “Last August.” Last August. We hadn’t even been talking about divorce. “How much was the condo?” “Four hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Paid in cash.” I took a sharp breath. Chloe produced another sheet of paper. “And then there’s this.” It was a bank transfer record. Over the past two years, Mark’s company account had wired a total of $600,000 to a company called “Apex Trading.” The memo for each transfer was “Project Fees.” “Did you look into this company?” “I did,” Chloe said, her expression grim. “The legal representative is a man named George Miller. Tina Miller’s father.” I said nothing. Chloe continued. “Apex Trading is a shell corporation. It has no actual business operations. Most of the money it received was funneled directly into Tina Miller’s personal account.” My hand, wrapped around my coffee cup, began to tremble. Six hundred thousand dollars. In two years. Plus the four-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar condo. Over a million dollars. “There’s more,” Chloe said, sliding one last document toward me. “This one was harder to get. I had to call in a favor.”

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My mother was the “vicious female antagonist” everyone despised. Three months after her death, the male lead finally married his “white moonlight,” his true love. Everyone praised their shining love story, but no one cared that my mother’s body was barely cold in her grave. Upon hearing the news, the villain swallowed half a bottle of sleeping pills, slashed his wrist, and lay quietly in a bathtub. As his body slowly turned cold. I, carrying my little backpack, knocked on his door and asked in a milky voice, “Uncle, hello. Are you my daddy?” 1 Julian Thorne’s face was deathly pale, and he was alarmingly thin. He stared at me, brows furrowing. “Whose kid are you?” I blinked. “My name is Kiki. My mom is Seraphina. Are you Mr. Julian Thorne?” Julian raised an eyebrow. “I am.” My eyes turned red, and I rushed into his arms, sobbing. “Daddy, I finally found you!” Julian’s mouth twitched. It took him several attempts to pry me off. “Sorry, I don’t know you, and I certainly don’t know your mother.” His shirt was already soaked with my tears. He glanced at it with disdain. I pouted, heartbroken. “Daddy, why don’t you want to acknowledge me?” Julian: “…” He shut the door. “Go home. I don’t have time to play games.” Two minutes later, I rang the doorbell again. Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong! When Julian opened the door again, he was dripping wet. His wrist was hastily bandaged, and he looked terrible. Seeing it was me again, he snapped, “What now?” I stood on my tiptoes, peering inside, twisting my fingers nervously. “Daddy, can I come in and eat something? I’m so hungry.” Julian gritted his teeth. “…How many times do I have to say it? I am not your father.” I looked innocent. “But Mom said you are.” He… “I don’t know your mom.” “Then how did she have me with you?” Julian closed his eyes, turning back into the house. Just as I was about to follow, he grabbed some bread and milk from the fridge, shoved them into my arms, and said ominously, “Don’t let me hear you ring that bell again.” Slam! The door shut. I stood there blankly for a while. Sitting on the porch steps, I looked at the bread in my hand and slowly stuffed it into my mouth. It was dry, so I gulped down some milk. The wind was chilly, making me shrink into my collar. So cold. And I needed to pee. Helpless, I stood before the door again. He said not to ring the bell, so I knocked. Knock, knock, knock! Knock, knock, knock! I knocked for so long that the neighbor across the street peeked out. Julian couldn’t take it anymore and opened the door. I sneezed, eyes watery. “Daddy, I’m sorry, but I can’t hold it. I need to pee.” The beautiful neighbor lady came out, covering her mouth in surprise. “Mr. Thorne, is this your daughter? I’ve never seen her before.” Julian’s face went completely black. Seeing me shivering in the cold wind, he took a deep breath and stepped aside. “Come in.” 2 Before I entered the bathroom, Julian said, “Wait.” He closed the door, and I heard the bathtub draining. “Okay, go ahead.” After I finished, I noticed faint bloodstains on the edge of the tub and a knife on the floor. When I came out, I was worried. “Daddy, are you hurt?” Julian’s lips tightened. “No.” “That’s good.” I sighed in relief and cheered up. “Daddy, your house is huge.” “As big and pretty as Daddy Liam’s house.” “Mom said you were amazing, even more amazing than Daddy Liam. She didn’t lie.” Julian asked, “You have another dad?” I nodded. “Mom was with Daddy Liam, but he was mean to her. After Mom got sick and died, he married another lady.” “Your mom passed away?” “Mm-hm.” Mentioning Mom, I wiped my eyes sadly. Julian frowned. “What’s your Daddy Liam’s name?” “Liam Carter.” He froze. “And your mom?” “Seraphina.” “Do you have a photo?” Right! I pulled Mom’s only photo from my backpack and handed it to him. Julian stared at the photo, his gaze sharpening instantly. His expression was complex, as if lost in memories. Though he tried to suppress his emotions, his hand holding the frame trembled slightly. After a long while, he curled his lip, tone mocking. “Your mom is Seraphina Vance?” Mom once said her real name was Seraphina. Seraphina Vance was the name she got after coming to this world. Only Daddy and I knew this. But it seemed Daddy didn’t know yet. So I nodded. “Yes.” Julian squatted down, scanning my face, as if looking for traces of himself. “How old… are you?” His voice was hoarse. I answered softly, “Six.” The hope in his eyes vanished instantly. He stood up, voice self-mocking. “It wasn’t enough for her to lie to me; she sent you to lie to me too?” 3 What is Daddy saying? I was stunned. “I didn’t…” Julian slammed the photo frame onto the table, his tone cold again. “Go back to the Carter family. You can’t be my child, and I’m not your father.” “But Mom said you are my father.” “Impossible.” He closed his eyes. “I broke up with your mother eight years ago. You’re only six. You can only be Liam Carter’s daughter.” I counted on my fingers for a long time and realized he seemed right. Am I really Liam Carter’s daughter? But Mom wouldn’t lie to me. There must be a misunderstanding! “Daddy, we can do a DNA test! I really am your daughter!” I plucked a hair from my head, wincing, and looked at him with expectation and nervousness. Julian looked at me, brows furrowed. “Achoo!” I sneezed again. Julian looked at the dark night outside, then at thin, frail me. “You can stay, but only for tonight. “Tomorrow, I’ll have the police take you home.” Yay! Daddy isn’t chasing me away. Julian went upstairs to prepare a room for me. I trotted behind him. “Daddy, what kind of person was Mom to you?” Julian sneered. “Heartless, greedy, lustful, fake.” Four words, I only understood the middle two. “Daddy, was Mom a pervert?” “…Kids shouldn’t ask so much.” I slowed down, feeling sad. I knew since I was little that Mom was the “vicious female antagonist.” Because she was the villainess, no one liked her. Mom said in her original world, her name was Seraphina, and she had brain cancer. Before she died, a System approached her, asking if she wanted to transmigrate into a book as the villainess. If she successfully made the male lead fall in love with her, she would get a healthy body. Mom agreed. She became Seraphina Vance. The lost true heiress of the Vance family, and Liam Carter’s real fiancée. Claire Vance was her sister, the “group favorite” heroine of this story. Raised with love, the parents couldn’t bear to send Claire back to poverty, so she stayed. Mom didn’t know what she did wrong. But if Claire was unhappy, it was Mom’s fault. Everyone looked at her with condemnation and disdain. Though related by blood, Mom was thin, unpolished, lacking the grace of a wealthy lady. Her parents favored the heroine. Liam Carter hated Mom too. After reuniting with the Vance family, it seemed only Grandpa truly welcomed her. Mom was an orphan in her original world and craved family love. Whether it was her adoptive parents before or the Vance parents now, she cherished them all. Even though she tried her best to please everyone, the plot’s force was immovable. Mom had no choice. If she didn’t win Liam over, she would die. Later, the Carter Corporation faced a financial crisis. Liam chose to break up with Claire then. Claire cried and went abroad to heal under the protection of the devoted second male lead. At that time, Mom’s company, ClearSky Tech, was booming, nearing Series B funding, but she sold it cheaply. She used that money and Grandpa’s inheritance to buy the position of Liam’s wife. Although Liam was forced to marry her, his heart remained with Claire. He partied every night, indulging in women who resembled Claire. But the one who looked most like her was Mom. Liam often kissed Mom with malice, calling out Claire’s name. He even brought women home to their marital bed. It seemed only by seeing Mom suffer could his hatred find an outlet. Even when I was born, he never cared. Mom’s reaction to this was: “Let whoever wants the rotten cucumber have it.” Although I didn’t understand, I admired Mom’s attitude. On my sixth birthday, the System announced time was up. The male lead still didn’t love Mom. Mission failed. The punishment was erasure. Simultaneously, the hospital results came back: terminal brain cancer. The System gave Mom three days. I still remember Mom’s expression: confusion, loss, pain. And the deep sorrow and reluctance when she looked at me. She didn’t beg Liam anymore. She decided to find Daddy. She asked to meet Daddy many times, but he refused. Her messages sank into the ocean without a ripple. On the last day. She waited downstairs at his company building for a long time, until the light faded inch by inch, and her life came to an end. He never showed up. 3 “Mom wasn’t that kind of woman.” I clenched my fists, looking seriously at Julian’s face. “Mom loved Daddy very much. Mom never forgot Daddy.” Julian paused, his smile growing more mocking. “Did she teach you to say that?” I shook my head. “No…” “No one knows Seraphina Vance better than I do.” His expression was almost cold. “Except for Liam Carter, she never truly loved anyone.” My face turned red holding it in. I couldn’t say Mom was a “strategy player” who was with Daddy Liam just to survive. How could I make Daddy believe Mom truly loved him? With a heavy heart, I climbed into bed. Julian tucked me in. “I’m right next door. Knock if you need anything, okay?” “Okay.” Blood was seeping through the bandage on his wrist. The wound hadn’t healed. Is Daddy hurt? I worried. Ten minutes later, I stood at the master bedroom door. Knock, knock, knock. Julian opened the door, eyes red, face tense. “What is it?” “Daddy, can I sleep with you?” “No.” I clasped my hands together, pleading. “Please, you know I left my mom since I was little…” “…Come in.” He made a pallet on the floor, letting me sleep in the bed alone. To prevent me from falling, he left a nightlight on. “Daddy, aren’t you sleeping with me?” “Girls grow up and avoid their fathers.” I sat up in surprise. “You admit you’re my dad?” Julian closed his eyes, not looking at me. “Strange men are even more forbidden.” I lay back down disappointed, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw a photo frame face down on the nightstand. It was Mom’s photo. “Daddy, you miss Mom too, don’t you?” Julian paused, answering stiffly. “…No.” Really? Then why, after Mom died, did you lose all will to live? 4 The next morning after breakfast, Julian wanted to take me to the police station. I hugged his leg, wailing. “Daddy, I don’t want to go! I can’t leave Daddy…” The beautiful neighbor lady happened to come out. Seeing this, she ran over, hugging me distressedly. “What’s wrong, baby? What happened?” I cried breathlessly. “Da… Daddy wants to send… me to the police station…” The neighbor lady was indignant. “Mr. Thorne, you can’t scare a child like that. It’ll cause trauma.” “Daddy, Daddy…” Seeing me convulsing with sobs, the neighbor lady held me, patting my back. “Don’t cry, baby. Auntie is here. I won’t let your dad send you away.” Julian: “…” He tried to explain. “Mr. Thorne, your daughter looks so much like you.” The neighbor lady pinched my cheek, sighing. “Eyes and nose are identical. No wonder she’s so pretty, inheriting the best traits from both parents?” Julian frowned. He looked at me, a moment of daze in his eyes. He didn’t make me leave. Through the slightly open study door, I heard him talking to a friend. “Greg, I need you to do a paternity test for me.” “Huh? Since when do you have a kid? Who gave birth to it?” “Seraphina Vance.” “Eh? Her?” The friend sighed. “How did you get tangled up with her again? She turned her back on you so fast back then, used you and tossed you, and now a kid pops up?” “Is hair with follicles okay?” “Yes, but Julian, don’t get your hopes up. Seraphina has been married for seven or eight years, her kid is probably big now. She was so devoted to Liam Carter, why would she have your kid?” “Seraphina is dead.” “What? Dead?” The other side sounded shocked, silent for a long time before speaking. “Okay, send the sample over. I’ll expedite it. Results in six hours max.” When Julian came out of the study, the neighbor lady was feeding me cherry tomatoes. I shook my head. “Sorry Auntie, I can’t eat tomatoes. I get itchy all over and get bumps.” “Is that so?” She looked regretful. Seeing Julian, she smiled. “Mr. Thorne, want to try? My mom picked them from our garden this morning, very fresh.” Julian looked complicated. “I’m allergic to tomatoes too.” He squatted in front of me, touching my face, eyes unreadable. “Are you… really my daughter?”

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My husband, Adrian, and I are known for our mutual hatred. I just suggested we sleep in separate rooms, but then I saw a row of comments floating in the air. [Is the female side character stupid? Bringing up separate rooms out of the blue is suspicious.] [Over a hundred chapters in and still sleeping separately? This story is meaningless without some action.] [Don’t worry, sis. After the male lead agrees, the side character tries to elope with her boy toy. The male lead goes dark, and they’ll be doing it non-stop.] [But the male lead has such long fingers… I’m afraid she won’t be able to handle it.] Terrified, I scrambled back under the covers and quickly changed my tune: “Actually, let’s keep sleeping together. I think I kinda like you.” Hearing my insincere words, Adrian chuckled in disbelief. “Playing with me again?” 1 “Don’t you like it when I play with you?” My fingertips traced down his collarbone. Adrian’s abs tensed up immediately, his breathing growing heavy. “Ha, I’m not one of the fish in your pond. You think I’ll take the bait that easily?” The comments in front of me scrolled frantically. [Male lead, keep being stubborn. Every time she teases you, you kiss her.] [Honestly, the male lead’s body is nosebleed-worthy. Broad shoulders, narrow waist. I’d trade souls with her just for the free luxury cars and mansions.] [Why are you so greedy upstairs?] [Ahhh, don’t stop! Look at the veins popping on his abs! He’s losing control!] I yanked my hand back, cheeks burning. My flustered expression didn’t escape Adrian. He chuckled, leaning in to lock eyes with me. Those bottomless eyes seemed to see right through me. “Scarlett, didn’t you want to kill me before?” “Why so forward all of a sudden?” 2 Adrian was right; I did want to kill him before. We were the famous “hate couple” of high society. After a wild night, we were forced to get married. Post-marriage, we were at each other’s throats, exploiting every weakness. He cut off my numerous romantic prospects; I embarrassed him publicly multiple times. But everyone gets tired of fighting eventually. I didn’t want to battle Adrian anymore, so I planned to elope with a college student under the cover of night. After all, he was a 20-year-old innocent college boy. Until a few minutes ago, when I saw the comments. To avoid being investigated, I tearfully abandoned my elopement plan. Seeing my silence, Adrian’s aggressively handsome face suddenly leaned in, millimeters from my lips. The air was thick with tension. I snapped back to reality, blushing as I spouted nonsense: “I just recently realized you’re actually pretty great. Handsome, fit, and willing to spend money on me.” “Compared to those flowers outside?” “No exaggeration, those mediocre guys don’t compare to one ten-thousandth of you.” Adrian stared at me, a fake smile on his face. “Is that so? Then delete all those male models from your WeChat.” I froze. Adrian really had to say things that made me want to die in the most ambiguous moments. Under his murderous gaze, I deleted over a dozen male models. Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Not deleting the college boy? Saving him for your elopement tonight?” My hand trembled. Adrian really knew everything. I secretly thanked my lucky stars that I saw those comments before eloping. I painfully deleted the college boy’s contact. The corner of Adrian’s mouth lifted slightly as he ruffled my hair. “Good girl.” I ignored him. I just buried my face in his massive chest muscles and secretly wiped my tears. 3 While Adrian took a cold shower, I quietly opened another chat app. I messaged X: [Hey, it’s night… the photo…] X was the white moonlight I’d been longing for over seven years, my first love. Although it was just an online relationship, he saved me time and again. When my stepmother beat me within an inch of my life, he called the police, saving me. When I couldn’t afford surgery and was desperate, he paid for it. If not for that night with Adrian, maybe X and I… A notification pulled me back. X: [I’ll take it in a bit.] He suddenly asked: [Scarlett, who do you like more, me or him?] I knew “him” meant Adrian. I didn’t hesitate: [Do you even need to ask? I like you, not Adrian. No matter how good he is, I’ll never like him.] Read, no reply. I said I liked him, why is he mad again? Men are so hard to understand. The comments scrolled. [Tsk tsk, X is jealous even of this?] [I always look forward to X’s thirst traps. Is he not sending one today because he’s mad? I’m gonna cry.] *[I ship the side character with the male lead, but her and X are cute too. Whatever, I’ll ship anything. Besides, the male lead and X are both ***.] [Another spoiler alert taken away. RIP sister.] Based on my extensive reading experience, the censored words were probably… sexual. My brain spun. Well-endowed? Good in bed? Or… My cheeks burned, and I couldn’t stop smiling. Oh my, what could it be? So hard to guess. Since X wasn’t replying, I watched the comments to pass the time. From the comments, I pieced together the plot of the novel. I was in a melodramatic romance novel. Adrian was the male lead, Sophia was the female lead, and I was just cannon fodder to push their relationship forward. After the female lead returned from abroad, my hate turned to love for the male lead, and I tried everything to stop them from being together. I humiliated the female lead, framed her for stealing company secrets, causing misunderstandings. Eventually, the male lead discovered my evil deeds and had an epiphany. His last bit of affection for me vanished, realizing he truly loved the female lead. He sent me to prison, where I couldn’t handle life and bashed my head against the wall, dying. I stared at my death description for a few seconds. This side character’s fate was too pathetic, wasn’t it? [Side character, stop daydreaming! Look at your phone, X sent the photo.] I snapped back and opened the photo. My face went red instantly. The photo was taken in a bathroom. The man wore only a loose towel around his waist. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, pecs and abs on full display. The veins on his lower abdomen were faintly visible in the mist, making my heart race. The comments exploded. [As expected of X, quality is always top-tier. Pant pant, licking the screen.] [Bro, sorry for what I did to your photo.] [The side character is eating good tonight!] [Thank you, side character. Just say the word, and we’ll vote you as the new female lead.] [No need. With all the evil things she does later, making her the lead would be disgusting.] [But she’s not following the plot now, is she?] 4 Early the next morning, the phone rang, waking me up. It was the college boy. I hung up in a panic. “Who was that?” Startled, I turned to look at Adrian. He was in a black suit, tall and slender. Behind gold-rimmed glasses, his peach blossom eyes were lazy yet sharp—full “refined scum” vibes. I lied: “Spam call.” Adrian frowned. The comments scrolled. [Oh no, male lead’s darkness level is rising.] [Better flirt a little to survive.] I grabbed Adrian’s tie, forcing him to bend down to eye level, and stared straight at him. “What? You think another man called?” “Jealous?” A blush crept up Adrian’s ears, and his breathing grew heavy. He looked down, avoiding my gaze, voice icy: “Ha, only you could come up with such a clumsy seduction.” Despite his words, he let me pull his tie like a leash. I traced circles on his chest with my fingertip, feigning frustration. “Oh well, I’m definitely not as smart as you. “So, Adrian. “Do you like clumsy seductions or not?” Adrian froze. He was silent for a moment, but seeing my expectant gaze, he rasped: “I like it.” The comments went wild. [What has she turned the male lead into?] [Suddenly reminded of a fitting line: As long as I can stay by the young miss’s side, I’ll do anything, even be her dog.] [Forget the male lead, I’m falling for the side character. Who doesn’t love a beautiful, flirtatious bad girl?] I leaned in close, millimeters from his lips, teasing him. Adrian’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his heartbeat audible. Just as he closed his eyes, I held up my phone: “Adrian, it’s 8:30.” Implying he needed to go to work. Adrian laughed angrily, desire still burning in his eyes. “Playing me?” I shrugged nonchalantly: “Not the first time.” Adrian adjusted his tie. “I’ll be back at six. You can play however you want then.” The comments were full of innuendo. [Is this “play” innocent? Sounds dirty to me.] [But the male lead’s fingers are so long, I feel like she won’t be able to handle tonight.] [Who said long fingers are bad? They’re amazing.]

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My moral compass is so straight, it’s bent back on itself. So, of course, I got bound to a “Be a Mom to the Villain” System. First time I was dropped into a story, the System made me a stepmom. My mission: use love to redeem the world-destroying villain and heal his childhood trauma. Faced with the weak, eight-year-old villain, I didn’t hesitate. I sent him to meet his maker. Before I could even wipe the blood off my hands, the kind-hearted, eight-year-old heroine ran up to accuse me. Knowing she’d one day sacrifice her entire village to save some man, I sent her on her way to the afterlife, too. Just as I was about to go after the so-called hero—the one who spouted righteousness while plaguing the common folk—the System shrieked and threw me into a romance novel. [This time, you’re the villain’s birth mother. Let’s see you lay a hand on him now.] [You cannot kill the villain, or you will be erased!] The moment the System finished speaking, I kicked the villain’s father straight into the ocean. If I can’t kill the villain, I’ll just kill his dad. As long as it saves people, I’m fine with dying. 1 Arthur Vance was screaming for help in the ocean. The System was screaming in my head. [Jocelyn, are you insane?! Your mission is to redeem the villain, so what the hell are you doing throwing his father into the sea?] I crossed my arms, my logic sound. “I’ve done my research. The reason Ethan turns evil is because of a traumatic childhood, and his father is the source of all his misery. Once his dad is gone, all the problems solve themselves.” [Solves my ass!] the System swore, losing its composure. [If Arthur is gone, his mistress is still around, and she’s pregnant! With her schemes, she’ll get her hands on Arthur’s entire estate, kick you and Ethan out, and then hire people to torture you both. It would be child’s play for her!] Oh? The mistress was that capable? Seeing the murderous glint in my eyes, the System let out a high-pitched screech. [Jocelyn, don’t you dare! This world has laws! If you kill someone, you’ll go to prison. Ethan will be bullied even more severely, and he’ll turn out even worse!] My eyes widened. “This world has laws? Why didn’t you say so sooner? You’re slowing me down.” With that, I dove into the water. Before the System could even praise my sudden enlightenment, it saw me pull a knife from my pocket and slash it across Arthur’s arm twice. Blood instantly bloomed in the water, staining the surface crimson. It didn’t take long for the scent to attract sharks. By the time the System rebooted, the sharks had picked Arthur clean, leaving only his head. The System went berserk. [How could you kill again—] “Watch your mouth. I didn’t kill anyone,” I interrupted. “Arthur asked me here to discuss our divorce. I refused, so he tried to push me into the ocean. He lost his footing and fell in himself. I tried to save him, but he accidentally bumped into the knife he was carrying in his pocket, and then the sharks came.” I wasn’t just telling this to the System. I told it to the police, too. Except when I told the police, I was crying my eyes out. “Officer, does this make me a murderer? Am I going to jail?” Arthur was a classic social climber. He clawed his way out of poverty, married the original Jocelyn—a wealthy heiress—and then took over her family’s company. He devoured their fortune, drove her parents to an early grave, and found himself a mistress. For this mistress, Arthur kicked his own wife and child out of their home. This drove the original Jocelyn into a deep depression, and she would take her frustrations out on Ethan. Arthur, egged on by his mistress, ignored Ethan’s plight completely. The mistress then hired people to bully Ethan both in and out of school. Under this triple threat of pressure, Ethan’s transformation into a villain was guaranteed. The System’s goal for me was to be a good mother to him. To shower him with endless maternal love while he suffered. But in my opinion, nothing heals the soul quite like cold, hard cash. Arthur was a well-known entrepreneur, and his sordid affairs were common knowledge. The police were already sympathetic to my situation. After reviewing the security footage, they confirmed that Arthur had indeed fallen into the water during our argument. His death was officially ruled an accident. And so, with a freshly printed death certificate in hand, I went home. The moment I pushed open the door, I heard the sharp sound of a slap. “You little bastard, how dare you talk back to me!” I looked up. Arthur’s mistress, Serena Lynn, was standing there, heavily pregnant, hitting Ethan. “Get on your knees,” she snarled. Just as Ethan, his eyes red with familiar tears, was about to kneel, I stepped forward and blocked his arm. Then, I swung my hand and delivered a hard slap across Serena’s face. Both Ethan and Serena stared at me, their eyes wide with disbelief. “Jocelyn, how dare you hit me!” Serena shrieked, recovering and lunging for my face. “Mom.” Ethan instinctively tried to step in front of me. I quickly pulled him behind me. Serena’s slap met only air. I raised my hand and slapped her again, back and forth, several times. Her voice grew louder. “Jocelyn, you must have a death wish! I’m calling Arthur right now. He won’t let you get away with this!” Seeing her like this, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t bother. Arthur’s dead.” 2 Serena froze for a few seconds. “What nonsense are you talking about? Arthur was fine this morning. If he knew you were cursing him like this, he’d be furious. You two would be in for it!” She frantically dialed Arthur’s number several times. When none of the calls went through, a flicker of panic crossed her face. “Really, don’t bother,” I repeated, offering my sincere advice. “He’s really dead.” Serena refused to believe it. “Impossible. Jocelyn, you and Arthur aren’t even divorced yet. What good does it do you to curse him?” I rolled my eyes, pulled Arthur’s death certificate from my bag, and tossed it at her. “If you don’t believe me, take a look at this.” Serena’s face turned ashen in an instant. “He… he’s really dead? What about the body?” “Eaten by sharks.” I shrugged helplessly. “Serena, I don’t know why you insisted he discuss the divorce with me at the beach. The man can’t swim. He fell in, wouldn’t wait for rescue, and, well, the sharks picked him clean.” Serena stood as if turned to stone, forgetting to breathe. A few minutes later, she made a break for the door. “You’re lying. This can’t be real. I’m going to find Arthur.” She didn’t get far before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed. “Ms. Lynn fainted from the shock,” the doctor explained. “The baby is fine. She just needs a couple of days of rest.” I let out a long sigh. Everyone assumed it was a sigh of relief that the baby was safe. Only the System knew the truth. [You’re disappointed, aren’t you? That neither of them was harmed.] I ignored it. I was busy. Arthur was dead, and he hadn’t left a will. This massive estate was waiting for me and Ethan to inherit. So I called in Arthur’s lawyer and financial advisor and had them compile a summary of his assets. I had no idea until then just how rich he was. Hundreds of properties in his name, a dozen safe deposit boxes. I was still counting the zeroes when I noticed something odd. “What’s the deal with these properties?” The lawyer glanced at the file. “Mr. Vance was in the process of transferring those properties to Ms. Lynn. The paperwork is still being processed.” “What?” I shrieked. “On what grounds does Arthur give my property to someone else?” The lawyer offered an awkward smile. I suddenly remembered the System mentioning that this world had laws. “Halt the transfer immediately.” I slammed the papers on the table. “And everything else Arthur gave to Serena Lynn, you have records of that, right? That’s all community property. As the legal wife, I’m suing her!” True to their elite status, the two of them had a complete list of Arthur’s expenditures on Serena within two hours. In just two years, Arthur had given Serena over a dozen properties. He gave her fifty thousand dollars a month in pocket money, and after she became pregnant, he moved her into the old family estate that the original Jocelyn’s parents had left her. He even made Serena the household manager. While Serena lived in luxury, she stipulated that the original Jocelyn and Ethan’s combined monthly expenses could not exceed five hundred dollars. Ethan lived in a mansion and rode in luxury cars, yet he couldn’t afford to eat. He would go hungry at school all day long. The thought made my blood boil. That bitch deserved to die. Since I couldn’t kill her, I would make her suffer everything Ethan had endured. 3 The lawyer informed me that suing Serena to reclaim the assets would be a lengthy process and suggested I try negotiating with her first. Armed with the list, I stormed into Serena’s hospital room and demanded she return the money and property. Serena, who had been weeping dramatically over Arthur’s death, instantly stopped crying. “What are you talking about? Arthur gave me these things willingly.” I stared at her coldly. “He may have been willing, but I wasn’t. Ms. Lynn, what he gave you was our community property. I have the legal right to reclaim it. If you don’t return it, I will sue you.” “Jocelyn, you’re a bully!” Serena started crying again. “I’m carrying Arthur’s child! If he were still alive, he would never let you treat us this way!” “Yes, it’s a shame…” I drew out the words. “He’s dead! He can’t protect you now. You deserve to be bullied by me.” At this point, I was done wasting my breath on her. I turned to leave, but paused at the door to issue a final warning. “You have three days. Give it all back. Otherwise, I’ll leak your entire sordid history online.” Serena had started out as an escort, climbing her way up after seducing Arthur at a party. After becoming his mistress, she wasn’t content to be a kept woman. She used his resources to start a social media company and became an influencer. Her online persona was that of a single, wealthy, independent mother, building a legion of loyal fans with her “empowered single mom by choice” brand. People had tried to expose her past before, but Arthur had always paid to have the stories buried. The original Jocelyn, being a proper lady, was too proud to let the world know about her failed marriage. So Serena had thrived. Perhaps my threat worked. The next day, Serena returned all the properties and money. Looking at it all, I couldn’t stop grinning. I knocked on Ethan’s door. “Come on, son. Mom’s treating. Let’s go get a feast.” Not only did I treat Ethan to a lavish meal, but I also bought him a whole new wardrobe. Throughout it all, though, he was quiet and withdrawn. When I asked, he admitted he was sad that his father was dead. I couldn’t help but marvel. He may be a future villain, but before his corruption, he was a genuinely kind boy. I felt compelled to comfort him by explaining that his father was the kind of man whose death was— A blessing. He should have died long ago. His death now was long overdue. The System started screaming in my head. [Stop, stop, stop! What kind of parenting is this? He’s already prone to turning evil. If you keep provoking him, you’ll just make it worse!] “Wrong,” I replied calmly in my mind. “Ethan’s twisted psyche is a direct result of having too much of a moral compass. He internalizes all his pain while his resentment builds. Teaching him to be a little more selfish, to lower his moral standards, that is true redemption.” Just then, Ethan asked softly, “What will happen to Aunt Serena and the baby in her belly?” I immediately turned to the System. “See? He’s still worrying about others. A classic sign of an overactive conscience.” Then I looked at Ethan. “That is not your brother. You don’t need to worry about strangers.” Ethan hesitated, then finally said, “Mom, Aunt Serena is going to make trouble for you.” “I’m counting on it,” I smiled, preparing him. “Ethan, for a mistress like Serena, whatever happens to her from now on, she deserves it.” Two days later, Ethan’s words came true. A court summons arrived in the mail.

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It had been eight years since I last saw my ex-boyfriend, Jack Godley. The boy with the bleached-blond hair had dyed it black, lasered off his tattoos, and transformed into a refined, aloof tycoon. As for me, the delicate flower he once knew? I was still a flower, just one that was rapidly wilting away. “Miss Collins, I’m very sorry, but the cancer has metastasized too far. Any further treatment would only cause you more pain.” The doctor was kind, phrasing “just go home and wait to die” as gently as he could. I walked out clutching my own death sentence. Passing by the obstetrics department, I slammed right into him. Eight years. He was taller, more handsome, more… “If you’re not going to use your eyes, donate them to someone who will.” Right. More of an asshole. 1 After spitting that cold remark at me, Jack’s face transformed in an instant. He turned to the woman beside him, her baby bump prominent, his voice softening with concern. It was an accident, but she was pregnant, and I figured I could use some good karma before I kicked the bucket. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?” The woman offered me a reassuring smile and shook her head. Then she turned to Jack, her brow furrowed as she gently tapped his arm. “She didn’t mean it. Why do you have to be so harsh?” My eyebrows shot up. I nodded emphatically in agreement. Being a CEO had certainly done a number on the sweet boy I once knew. “I’m sorry,” the woman said to me, her presence radiating a gentle warmth that only an expectant mother possesses. She and Jack, with her refined grace and his commanding presence, looked like they were made for each other. “He gets overprotective. He didn’t mean to offend you.” She didn’t seem to know who I was, and Jack was clearly content to pretend he didn’t either. Suddenly, the sterile hospital air felt suffocating. “It’s fine, really. As long as you’re alright. I should go.” I sidestepped them, my shoulder brushing against Jack’s as I passed. In the antiseptic air, I caught the faintest trace of his signature cedarwood scent. Back home, my body felt like it had hit its limit. The moment I collapsed onto my bed, a vicious cramp seized my stomach. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead, mingling with the silent tears escaping the corners of my eyes. My phone rang, a shrill, insistent sound. “Mia, great news! The investors love the new project. We just need you to finish the script so we can submit it for approval.” It was Chloe, a TV producer I’d befriended on a previous project. I glanced at my reflection in the full-length mirror. A pale, tear-streaked face stared back, my hair plastered messily to my cheeks. “Chloe, I haven’t figured out the ending yet. Can we maybe put it on hold for a—” “No way, Mia, we can’t! This investor is a huge deal. If we bail on them, we can kiss our careers in this town goodbye.” The words of retreat died in my throat. I didn’t have a future to worry about, but Chloe did. “Okay,” I sighed. “I get it. I’ll finish it as soon as I can.” After hanging up, I pulled out the painkillers the doctor had prescribed. One bottle, 30 pills for a month. One a day, he’d said. But since I was dying anyway, I saw no point in rationing my comfort. I shook out three and swallowed them dry. I sat down at my laptop, opened the document, and began to write the final chapter of my last story. The sky bled from black to blue, then from blue back to black. [THE END] After typing the final words, I stretched, letting out a long, slow breath. The idea for this story had been in my head for years, but it wasn’t until this year that I finally put it to paper. I stared at the screen, a bitter smile on my lips. “Maybe everything is just fated to be.” Moments after I emailed the script to Chloe, my phone buzzed wildly. “Mia, I absolutely love it! This is the best thing you’ve ever written!” She was ready to pop the champagne before the investors had even replied. And somehow, in a daze, I agreed to meet her for a celebratory drink. I’d barely eaten anything but a few bites of a stale croissant while racing to finish the script. Now, with alcohol in my system, my stomach was churning unpleasantly. I couldn’t take another painkiller. Gritting my teeth against the throbbing pain, I got up, intending to ask the bartender for a glass of hot water. I turned and walked straight into a warm, solid chest. The scent of cedar filled my senses, and for a second, my mind went completely blank. 2 The next second, I was shoved away roughly. Jack was frowning, disgustedly brushing at the spot on his chest where I’d touched him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I apologized sincerely. “That’s twice in two days you’ve run into me. If it wasn’t intentional, you should probably get your brain checked.” Maybe it was the searing pain in my stomach, or maybe it was just the sheer exhaustion of it all. My nerves were frayed to their breaking point, too fragile to withstand his barbed words. He let out a cold, sharp laugh, his eyes raking over me. “What’s with the wounded act? I state a simple fact and now you’re going to cry?” He was right. I hadn’t cried when he knelt in the snow eight years ago, begging me not to leave him. Now, looking at this proud, cold man in his tailored suit, I couldn’t find a single trace of the boy I once loved. I knew he remembered me. The loathing and hatred in his eyes were too clear to ignore. He obviously wanted nothing more to do with me. I could at least grant him that final wish. Another good deed before the end. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on.” I walked around him and left. When I returned with my hot water, Chloe was back at the table. “Where’d you go? You disappeared the second I got back. You scared me.” “Just went to get some water.” Bumping into Jack was a fluke, a cruel twist of fate not worth mentioning. I thought submitting the script was the end of it. But the next day, Chloe called me in a panic. “It’s bad, Mia! The investors rejected it. You need to get to the office, now!” When I arrived, Chloe and an associate from the investment firm were waiting in the conference room. I was ushered inside. Chloe shot a nervous look at the man sitting with his back to us in a large executive chair. “Excuse me,” I began, addressing the man directly, assuming he was the big boss Chloe had mentioned. “Could you tell me which part of the script you weren’t satisfied with?” There was a long pause. Then, a familiar voice cut through the silence. “The ending.” The chair swiveled around, revealing Jack’s cold, impassive face. So he was the big-shot investor. He met my gaze, not a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Before I could speak, Chloe jumped in to defend me. “Mr. Godley, audiences today prefer happy endings. It’s what the market demands.” Jack nodded slowly. Chloe looked relieved for a second, but then he spoke again, his voice dangerously quiet. “I don’t like this ending. Change it.” The audacity of a corporate tyrant. Utterly unreasonable. “If you want a different ending, you should hire a different writer. I can’t write it.” I wasn’t above compromising for money, but this story, this one story, felt too personal to change. Jack looked at me, a thin, cruel smile playing on his lips. “Fine. Then you can pay the breach of contract fee.” The color drained from Chloe’s face. She scribbled a number on a piece of paper and slid it towards me. [$8,000,000] They could sell me, sell the whole damn production company, and we still wouldn’t have eight million dollars. I sighed, a bitter laugh escaping me. Fine. I was dying anyway. What did artistic integrity matter now? “Okay. I’ll change it.” The meeting ended. The capitalists were satisfied, and I was the poor workhorse left to do their bidding. But it seemed fate wasn’t done kicking me while I was down. Jack’s assistant, Mark, caught up to me. “Ms. Collins, to facilitate communication about the script, Mr. Godley has requested you work from our offices for the time being.” I frowned, looking past him to where Jack stood, coolly dismissing someone else. He hated me, right? So why would he want me under his nose all day? It made no sense. My empty stomach protested loudly. I mumbled my assent and hurried away. In the breakroom, I had just pulled out my bottle of pills when the door swung open. “What are you doing?” Jack’s voice startled me, and the bottle slipped from my hand, scattering the precious pills across the floor. 3 Ignoring him, I dropped to my knees, my heart aching as I gathered the pills. These weren’t just painkillers anymore; they were my lifeline. Jack stood there in silence, watching me pick them up, one by one. I was about to pop the last three into my mouth when his hand shot out and stopped me. “They fell on the floor. You’re just going to eat them like that?” I irritably shook his hand off. Eight years had changed so much about him, but his damn germaphobia had stuck around. “It’s none of your business.” I swallowed the pills quickly. Jack’s frown deepened. As I turned to leave, he spoke again. “What kind of medication is that?” I paused, looking at him, puzzled. He caught my inquisitive gaze and sneered. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m just curious. Did all your dirty deeds finally catch up to you?” A bitter smile formed in my heart. You have no idea. After all, I had broken the heart of an eighteen-year-old boy, stolen his first time, and then left him without a second glance. Terminal stomach cancer seemed like a fitting punishment. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I plastered a brazen smile on my face. “Sorry to disappoint you. Just low on vitamin C. Doctor’s orders.” After leaving his office, I went to the Westwood Orphanage. “Dean,” I asked the headmistress, “what did the doctor say about Lily’s eyes?” The Dean shook her head sadly. “We’re still waiting for a donor. There’s nothing more they can do for now.” For some reason, my mind flashed back to bumping into Jack at the hospital. I squeezed the Dean’s hand. “Don’t worry. Our Lily is such a sweet, wonderful girl. I know she’ll be able to see the world again one day.” Before I left, I transferred another sum of money to the orphanage’s account. “Mia,” the Dean said, her voice full of concern, “you’re not a little girl anymore. You need to save for yourself. Find someone you love, get married, have a family. You’ve done more than enough for us. Your kindness is all we need.” I grew up here. The Dean was the only mother I’d ever known. “I’m making good money now, Dean. You don’t have to worry about me.” I hadn’t told anyone about my illness. She had enough to worry about without adding my burdens to her own. When I got home, I went online and registered as an organ donor. Jack’s cruel words had a point. I wouldn’t be needing my organs anymore. The next day, I reported to Jack’s company on time. Mark showed me to a desk. “You’ll be working here, Ms. Collins. Mr. Godley’s office is right next door.” I stared at the pristine glass wall that separated the two spaces. It was so clean it was almost invisible. “Could I possibly move? I feel a little pressured sitting here. It might affect my writing.” “I’m sorry, Ms. Collins. These were Mr. Godley’s specific instructions.” Right. No room for negotiation. Thankfully, Jack was a busy man. He hadn’t returned to his office by the time lunch rolled around. But Isabelle did. She walked up to my desk, carrying a lunch box, her baby bump more pronounced than before. She looked surprised to see me. “Mr. Godley’s new project… I’m the screenwriter,” I explained. “I’ll be working here until the script is approved.” “It seems you and Jack are truly bound by fate,” she said, her eyes crinkling in a friendly smile that made me feel inexplicably guilty. Footsteps sounded behind me. It was Jack. He strode past me to Isabelle’s side, taking the lunch box from her. “Why did you come all this way? You could have had the driver bring it.” “It’s no trouble. I was bored at home anyway.” The two of them disappeared into his office, leaving me feeling like a ghost. I had no right to be upset, but my heart clenched painfully anyway. 4 The week flew by. I submitted three different endings. Every single one was rejected. My stomach was in knots. I hadn’t eaten a proper meal all week. Watching Isabelle bring Jack delicious, home-cooked lunches every day made my takeout taste like ash. I was desperate to finish the script, but Jack kept stonewalling me. The more pressure I felt, the worse my mood became, and the less I ate. The less I ate, the more my stomach hurt. In just one week, I’d lost ten pounds. It felt like a white-hot poker was being twisted in my gut. A cold sweat broke out across my skin. My fingers were trembling so badly I could barely type. I was curled in my chair, shaking, about to reach for my pills, when my chair was violently spun around. Jack was crouching in front of me, his brow knitted in a deep frown. He roughly grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Mia, what the hell is wrong with you?” I wanted to tell him to fuck off. I wanted to slap his hands away. But when I opened my mouth, my teeth chattered with pain, and I couldn’t even lift my arm. The next thing I knew, the world tilted. When my head cleared, Jack was carrying me out of the office. At the hospital, a doctor gave me a quick examination. He looked worried and wanted to run a full panel of tests. I refused. “You don’t have to, Doctor. I know what it is. It’s terminal stomach cancer.” The kind doctor was at a loss for words, unable to find the right platitude. “Doctor,” I pleaded, “this is my private medical information. Please, help me keep it a secret. Especially from the man outside.” He agreed. He told Jack exactly what I’d asked him to: that I just had a bad case of gastritis. Jack was skeptical. “Gastritis makes someone hurt that badly?” The doctor hesitated. I seized the moment, playfully slapping Jack’s arm. “What, are you worried about me?” That did it. His face froze over. He turned on his heel and walked away. As I was slowly making my way out of the hospital, a luxury car pulled up beside me. “Mrs. Godley. It’s been a long time.” Inside was Jack’s mother, my former employer. “Have you forgotten the promise you made when you took my money and left?” “I haven’t forgotten. To never appear in front of Jack again for the rest of my life.” She glanced at me, her eyes dripping with a familiar scorn. “We met by chance, through work. Don’t worry, he can’t stand the sight of me. What you’re worried about will never happen.” I hated being looked at like I was trash, but she had given me the money that saved a life. I owed her that much. “See that it doesn’t. Finish your work and get away from my son.” When I went back to the office the next day, I heard Jack was on a business trip. He’d be gone for two weeks. With the boss away, the administrative staff relaxed. “Why is the boss gone for so long this time?” “Oh, you don’t know? He’s not just there for business. He’s scouting maternity hospitals for Ms. Isabelle.” “No wonder! They have the best obstetricians in the country there. He really cares about her, doesn’t he?” I didn’t hear the rest. I just got up and walked out. Back home, I opened my laptop and created a new, blank document. I knew what kind of ending Jack wanted. I was just greedy. I had gambled on the foolish hope that he might show me a sliver of mercy. It was time to give up. When the snow melts, there will be nothing left between us. In life and in death, we will never meet again. He approved this ending. The single word “Approved” glowed on my phone screen. A hot, coppery taste filled my mouth, and I coughed, spraying blood across the screen. Darkness closed in. A bitter smile touched my lips. My ending, it seemed, was finally here.

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