Category: English

During the Mid-Autumn Festival, I gave my parents each a red envelope with 2,000 yuan. But my mother held the envelope, hesitating. “Mom, just say what’s on your mind.” Seeing me ask, she finally spoke up: “I see you got a promotion recently, right? Your salary must have gone up quite a bit. Your brother started giving us 8,000 yuan each starting from the Dragon Boat Festival last month. Yours should increase too, otherwise people will say I’m not treating my children equally.” 8,000 each meant 16,000 total. That wasn’t a small amount, so I called my husband to discuss it. To my surprise, his answer shocked me. He said: “Mom likes to keep things equal, right?” “Then ask her for me: our family is about to receive the village land subsidy, right? How much are Mom and Dad planning to give us?” 1 I knew about the land subsidy my husband, Travis, mentioned. It was a subsidy from the village, not much. For our family of four, the total subsidy was only 800 yuan. For all these years, I never thought about asking for that money. I didn’t expect Travis, who was usually generous, to suddenly care about such a small amount. I couldn’t help but mock him: “It’s only 800 yuan in total. Divided among individuals, it’s only 200 yuan a year per person. That’s not even enough to fill your gas tank once. You’re a big boss, surely you’re not going to be petty over 200 yuan?” Travis was acting strange today, every sentence dripping with sarcasm. “So what if I’m a boss? Does money fall from the sky for bosses? You say I’m petty, but isn’t your mom petty? If she’s not petty, then let her give you that 200 yuan. It’s almost Lily’s birthday, let’s treat that 200 yuan as a birthday red envelope for Lily.” I laughed out loud: “Travis, what do you mean? You don’t think my mom kept my share of the subsidy because she’s stingy, do you? It’s only 200 yuan in total. Even if Mom offered, I’d be embarrassed to take it.” “Travis, I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, you sound so aggressive. You know very well how my mom treats you, right?” Travis was an orphan. After my mom found out, she felt very sorry for him. Every time the family harvested peanuts or corn, they sent us dozens of pounds. He ate so much good food, doesn’t he know better? I thought reminding him would soften his tone. Unexpectedly, Travis seemed to have swallowed dynamite today: “Yes! Mom is good to us! Sending heaps of peanuts and corn. Since she’s so good, she shouldn’t mind giving 200 yuan for Lily’s birthday, right?” It seemed Travis was fixated on that 200 yuan subsidy today. “So if my parents don’t give that 200 yuan today, you won’t agree to give them the 8,000 yuan red envelope?” I was getting angry too. I thought Travis would readily agree to give my parents money like before, which was why I discussed it with him. After all, we’re married, our money is pooled. We also agreed that any expenditure over 10,000 yuan requires mutual consent. But I never expected Travis to refuse so adamantly this time. “Giving money is fine, but you must first ask Mom for me. The village subsidy is coming soon. Since she claims to treat everyone equally, how much is she planning to give us?” “Sarah, you know very well, calculated by headcount, you should get 200. Your parents wouldn’t be unfair over just 200 yuan, would they? Then how can she have the nerve to say she’s afraid people will say she’s unfair?” Travis said hatefully: “If you ask me, your mom is unfair. It’s not that she’s embarrassed not to give you this 200 yuan subsidy, she simply doesn’t want to give it!” I was already annoyed about having to work on the Mid-Autumn Festival, and now Travis was being so sarcastic, I instantly flared up: “Travis, don’t be shameless. It’s just 200 yuan. Do you think I’m like you, a child without a mother, who can’t even get 200 yuan!” Between husband and wife, sometimes when arguing, we really say hurtful things. We stab where it hurts the most. These words poked Travis’s sore spot directly. He shouted on the other end: “Yes, I don’t have a mother to give me money. Sarah, let me tell you, so what if you have a mother? You still can’t get the money! What’s the difference between having a mother and not having one for you?” Could I tolerate him talking about my mom like that? So I roared: “Fine! Travis! I see it now! You’re just mentally unstable because the festival is coming, jealous that I have parents who love me! 200 yuan, right? I’ll ask my parents for it right now! If my parents give it, this 16,000 red envelope will be deducted entirely from your salary card!” Travis was tough too: “Fine! Go ask your mom! If she really gives you this 200 yuan subsidy, I’ll pay the whole 16,000, and from now on, you manage my salary card!” Married for two years, every time I asked Travis for his bank card, he had various excuses. “I cover all household expenses, and money for parents is split evenly. What more do you want?” I thought about it. Since the money I earn is in my hands, there was no reason to manage his salary card. But now since he offered it himself, why would I refuse? I agreed immediately: “Fine, get your card and password ready. Watch me throw the 200 yuan my mom gives me in your face!” 2 I just sat on the sofa after work when Travis came back. As soon as he entered, he asked teasingly: “So? Did you call? Did you get the money?” I rolled my eyes at him: “Can’t you see I just sat down and haven’t even had a sip of water?” Travis rolled his eyes back at me and lay down on the chaise longue next to me. “That’s perfect. Now that I’m back, I can witness the miracle with you. Start calling.” I clutched my phone. The phone showed the chat history with my mom from today. At that time, I transferred 4,000 yuan to her and said: “Mom, I have to work on Mid-Autumn Festival and can’t come back. Here’s a red envelope for you and Dad each. Happy Mid-Autumn Festival in advance.” I transferred money according to the usual custom. After getting married, except for 10,000 each for New Year, the other festivals like Mid-Autumn, Dragon Boat, Double Ninth, Father’s Day, and Mother’s Day were 2,000 each, never changed. Actually, I gave money before marriage too, but it was just me giving it then. After getting married, Travis said he wanted to show his appreciation too, so we split it half and half. But after giving the red envelope this time, my mom suddenly called me. I was still working then. Seeing her hesitating, I whispered: “Mom, just say what you have to say, I’m working.” Seeing me ask, she said: “Sarah, I see you got a promotion recently? Your salary must have gone up quite a bit, right?” I was stunned, not knowing what promotion my mom was talking about. After a while, my brain caught up. Last month I passed an exam, and my technical qualification rating went from C to A. I posted it on my Moments. My mom might have thought this was a promotion, but actually, it was just a higher qualification rating. My salary did increase, but only by 500 yuan, not the promotion to a high official making big money my mom imagined. So I wanted to explain: “Yes, Mom, but it’s just a technical rating upgrade, salary only increased by…” Before I could say 500, my mom interrupted me. She said hurriedly: “Actually, your brother started giving 8,000 red envelopes since the last Dragon Boat Festival. I was too embarrassed to tell you, but I thought about it, I must treat you siblings equally. One can’t give so much more than the other. If people find out, they’ll laugh at me for being an unfair mother.” When my mom said this, I was too embarrassed to mention the 500 yuan raise. Because according to my mom, my brother started giving my parents 8,000 each earlier this year, and I was still following the old rule, giving only 4,000. At this time, my boss came and urged me: “Technician Sarah, the client is here, hurry to the conference room to report on the project progress.” So I covered the receiver and said to my mom: “Mom, let’s talk about the red envelope later, I have to work now.” After the meeting, when I recovered a bit, I remembered what my mom said about the red envelope, so I called Travis. That led to the conversation above. “What? Afraid to call?” Travis lying on the sofa looked like he was watching a joke. “If you dare not call, then your salary card will be managed by me.” Saying that, Travis turned over to rummage through my bag. I quickly covered my bag: “In your dreams!” “I’ll call right now! Get your salary card ready.” Travis turned back, opened his bag, and took out several cards from his wallet. “A savings card, a salary card, a bonus card, all here. Come and get them if you can!” I grabbed the three cards in my hand: “Hmph, get the passwords ready for these three cards. They will definitely be managed by me in the future!” Saying that, I called my mom confidently. 3 The call connected quickly. “Hello, Mom, have you eaten?” I spoke first. “Just finished, your dad is watching TV. We were just talking about you, and your call came! Look at that old saying, speak of the devil and he appears.” “Yeah!” I played along with my mom. “By the way, did you tell Travis about the Mid-Autumn Festival red envelope? I say he definitely has no objection. Travis is such a good son-in-law, always polite and proper during festivals. You are the head of the house, as long as you have no objection, Travis definitely won’t. Your dad and I have always treated him like a son.” My mom was laughing. She probably knew I called to talk about the red envelope. I laughed awkwardly twice: “Yes! You and Dad are good to Travis, he always remembers it! He often says although his parents passed away early, meeting you and Dad is his blessing.” Travis curled his lips and picked up the newspaper on the table. But his eyes kept glancing at me. I knew he was staring at me. My mom saw I didn’t mention giving money, so she spoke first. “By the way, don’t send that 16,000 red envelope via WeChat later. Transfer it directly to the bank card, otherwise I’ll have to withdraw cash. Your dad and I don’t know how to use that thing well. It’s easier for us to save it if you transfer to the bank card.” Only then did I realize my mom didn’t accept the 4,000 red envelope from the afternoon. My heart sank. Were they so sure I would give 16,000? After all, Lily is not yet one year old. I don’t have in-laws to help, relying entirely on myself. Just the nanny and housekeeper cost 12,000 a month. Although Travis pays for it, we have formed a small family after all. Travis’s salary only rose to 16,000 after Lily was born, and my own salary only broke 10,000 after my technical rating rose to A plus the annual bonus. According to my mom, giving 8,000 starting from now on holidays means paying 16,000 just for October. Wait, I looked at the calendar. In previous years, we also had a tradition of giving red envelopes for the Double Ninth Festival. That means paying 32,000 to my parents just in October. Not to mention New Year’s Day and Spring Festival later. Calculating roughly, the holiday money for a year adds up to nearly 200,000. But Travis and I combined only make a little over 310,000 including salary and bonuses. Did my parents not calculate this? Why suddenly raise the holiday money so high? My heart tightened suddenly. Is there something wrong with my parents’ health? Because Grandpa and Grandma both died of cancer, I suddenly got scared. Could it be that my parents are sick and hiding it from me and my brother? But they need money for treatment, so they ask us siblings to give double red envelopes so they can secretly see a doctor. Thinking of this, my heart was high in my throat. I hurriedly asked my mom: “Mom, is everything okay at home? Is anyone uncomfortable?” “If you and Dad have any problems, you must tell me and brother. We are a family, don’t hide it.” My mom was confused: “What problems could your dad and I have! Sarah, don’t talk nonsense there. If you think we are asking for too much, just say it, don’t beat around the bush asking this and that.” I heard my mom’s impatience and hurriedly explained: “No, I was just thinking, you and Dad are already receiving pensions. Although not as much as the elderly in the city with eight or ten thousand, you have nearly four thousand, which is definitely enough in the countryside. Suddenly asking me and brother for so much money, I thought something happened to you and you dared not tell us!” Seeing my genuine concern, my mom softened her tone: “Oh, you think too much. We have food and drink, what could happen? Rest assured, your dad and I are in good health! It’s just seeing Old Li’s daughter next door bringing back tens of thousands a month, your dad and I are envious. Thinking you got promoted? Your brother’s job is stable too, so we thought you children could be more filial to us, letting me and your dad show off too. Otherwise, that Old Li showing off his daughter’s transfer chat records at the village entrance all day is so annoying!” Hearing about Old Li, I breathed a sigh of relief. Back then, Old Li’s family had three daughters in a row, and people said their family was useless. As a result, all their daughters went to university and did well. Heard that the eldest daughter, Nana, sends hundreds of thousands home a year. My dad and Old Li came from the same production team, and Old Li’s wife was my dad’s first love, so it’s normal for my mom to be jealous and want to save face. Just as I was about to agree to give my parents a 16,000 holiday red envelope in the future, Travis kicked me. I glared at him: “What are you doing!” Travis threw down the newspaper, pointed to the three bank cards on the coffee table, and whispered: “Do you still want them?” I remembered my bet with Travis. Fine! Isn’t it just a 200 yuan land subsidy! Just let my mom give it to me. Then I can not only perfectly solve the family conflict but also officially manage all of Travis’s money. Simply killing two birds with one stone! Thinking of this, I kicked Travis back. Growled: “Got it!” Then I said to my mom: “Mom, speaking of Old Li reminded me of something. Doesn’t our village issue a land subsidy every October! I met Old Li’s eldest daughter Nana a few days ago. I praised her for doing well and earning a lot. Nana joked that it was all because her dad gave them the village land subsidy every year. “My dad often says, land money, land money, have land, have leisure, have money. Although the village land subsidy is not much, it is very auspicious and brings good luck. He puts it in a red envelope every year and solemnly distributes that subsidy to us children. Not to mention, every time I receive this land subsidy prepared by my dad, my business profits soar several times, and receiving it basically means smooth sailing for the business. Don’t you think this land subsidy deserves a lot of credit?” I repeated what Nana told me to my mom. After finishing, I changed the subject: “Travis and I just had Lily! The financial pressure is up, and we are preparing to do some small business ourselves. So, Mom, can you give me my share of this year’s land subsidy? I also want to ask for good luck.” I’ve said this much, and the reason is sufficient. Moreover, that subsidy is only 200 yuan per person. I thought my mom would agree readily. Unexpectedly, my mom hesitated again. “That money, not much, what good luck can it have.” “Sarah, don’t worry. Isn’t Lily about to have her first birthday at the end of the year? Mom will give our Lily baby a big red envelope then, guaranteed to be more auspicious than the land money you mentioned.” “No, Mom, Lily’s birthday is still early. Travis and I are starting our business this month. That subsidy happens to be issued this month, isn’t it perfect!” I acted coquettishly: “Mom, don’t think I’m embarrassed to ask for just 200 yuan. I want this money just for good luck. Nana is a big boss, don’t all business people believe in this! We are just starting business, learning from these big bosses, maybe it really will be smooth sailing.” I thought my mom felt 200 was too little to give, so I emphasized again that I didn’t mind, just for good luck. But my mom still seemed very troubled on the other end of the phone. After a long time, she said: “Sarah, I probably can’t give you this year’s subsidy.” “Ah? Mom! Why?” My heart tightened, thinking my mom really had something big hiding from me? But her next words shocked me. 4 My mom said: “Didn’t your brother also want to do business recently? Last time I met Li family’s daughter Nana when she returned to the village, I chatted with her. She didn’t know if she was modest or joking, saying her business did well thanks to the subsidy red envelope Old Li prepared for her.” “I asked casually what subsidy red envelope, Nana said what else could it be, it’s the village land subsidy.” My mom said awkwardly: “If you mentioned it earlier, Mom would have given you that 200 yuan. But your brother asked before you. He said he wanted that land subsidy this year. I’ve already prepared the red envelope for him, ready to give it to him when he comes back for Mid-Autumn Festival.” I thought, what a coincidence. I didn’t expect my mom and I both chatted with Nana and both mentioned the auspiciousness of the land subsidy. But on second thought, something was wrong. The land subsidy is 800. Nana’s family also distributes 200 red envelopes to each person. Our family also has four people, can’t we also distribute 200 to each person? Thinking of this, I blurted out: “Mom, since brother and I both want to do business and want good luck, isn’t it fine for brother and me to each get 200!” Exactly! Whether divided by headcount or by affection, 200 each is a very natural thing, right? I didn’t know what my mom was troubled about. Unexpectedly, my mom spoke without thinking: “If I give you 200, doesn’t it mean giving away half of your brother’s good luck? That won’t do!” After speaking, my mom probably didn’t feel anything wrong and continued: “If you really want this money, wait a bit longer, wait until your brother’s business gets bigger and stable.” I never expected that asking for a 200 yuan land subsidy would fail like this. I was full of anger and couldn’t help complaining: “Mom, what do you mean giving away half of the good luck? Am I not a member of the family?” My mom quickly replied: “Sarah, Mom didn’t mean that! Of course you are family, but there is only so much luck. If you take some, he takes some, isn’t it gone?” “Your brother is a boy, he will have to buy a house and marry a wife in the future. He needs to make money more than you now. Why do you have to fight with him for this little money?” Honestly, when talking about land money before, it was indeed about money. But now it’s not about money, it’s about sharing good luck. Just because my brother also said he wanted to do business, my mom wanted to give all this so-called good luck to him, unwilling to give me a penny? Is this not obvious favoritism? I was really angry, and my tone hardened: “Mom, if you still treat me as your daughter, your child, give me the land money I asked for. If you treat me as water spilled out, then don’t give it, but don’t say anything about being a fair mother in the future.” My mom got angry too, saying in a low voice: “Sarah, what do you mean? We are mother and daughter, is it worth it for 200 yuan?” I also tried hard to suppress my voice wanting to explode: “Mom, you also know we are mother and daughter. Is it worth hurting my heart so much for 200 yuan? Think about it yourself. Your biological daughter asks you for 200 yuan for good luck, but you only want to leave all this good luck to your son. Do you believe yourself when you say you are not biased?” Now my mom was completely angry: “Fine! Since you say I’m biased, then I am biased! Ask yourself, all these years, have I, as a mother, let you go hungry or cold? What your brother has, when did you not have it?” I sneered: “I did have everything my brother had, but it was all old stuff my brother wore.” The more I recalled, the angrier I got. My brother is a year younger than me, but he has always been taller and bigger than me. So I grew up wearing my brother’s hand-me-downs. Before, the family conditions were not good, and I could understand my parents. Never blamed them. But thinking about it now, my brother wore new clothes growing up. What was wrong with buying me a new one occasionally? I gritted my teeth and realized they just didn’t want to buy new ones for me. I happened to be an obedient child since childhood, never crying or making noise, so of course I didn’t get fed. Thinking of this, I couldn’t help but continue complaining: “And food! I did eat what my brother ate! But what the family prepared was always what my brother loved to eat. So you always said you treated us equally, I had what my brother had, but in fact? I didn’t like those things at all. So seeing me not eating, you always said, Sarah, you don’t like eating this yourself, don’t go outside and say mom and dad are biased, only buying for brother and not for you!” “The fact? If you bought what I liked, would I not like to eat it?” Because of this 200 yuan land money, I held a breath and poured out all the grievances that suddenly surged up. My mom was silent for a long time on the other end of the phone, and after a while she said: “I always thought you were a good child. I didn’t expect you to be so calculating. You remember such small things so clearly. Unlike your brother, who has a big heart. I beat him and scolded him so many times when he was young, but he always said mom was good, never said mom was bad!” Before my mom finished speaking, I interrupted her: “Of course! You beat him when he was young because he skipped class, fought, stole things, and insulted teachers. That was what he deserved. I don’t do these dirty things, of course I won’t ask for scolding.” “Result? Dedicated to being a good child, but because I asked you for 200 yuan, I was called disobedient and small-minded. It seems better to be a bad child in the future. As long as I don’t commit crimes, I’m a good child!” My mom was speechless by my retort: “Fine, your wings are hard, I’m old, can’t explain to you.” With that, she hung up the phone directly. I sat on the sofa angrily, unable to say a word. After a while, my mom sent me a message: “If your dad hadn’t just said it, I wouldn’t have reacted. I didn’t expect you to be so scheming after getting married.” Me: “What do you mean!” My mom: “You know best what it means! Isn’t it just that you don’t want to give the 16,000 holiday red envelope? Saying directly you don’t want to give it, you’re afraid of being pointed at as an unfilial daughter! So you deliberately found an excuse to ask for land subsidies to quarrel with me, so you don’t have to give money! Don’t give if you don’t want to! Do your dad and I really lack your little money?” I didn’t show weakness either: “You don’t covet my money, that’s great! Why don’t you return the money I gave you before? That would be more convincing!” After sending, I threw the phone on the sofa, feeling extremely exhausted all over. Travis had already returned to the bedroom to take care of our daughter. I closed my eyes, feeling tired enough to faint. At this time the phone rang. It was my dad

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I ran into Peter Hawthorne during a late-night delivery shift. He took the condoms I’d brought, his robe hanging open to reveal angry red scratch marks trailing across his well-defined chest. “This is what you’re doing now?” he asked, his voice a lazy drawl. I managed a smile. “Gotta pay the bills. Don’t forget to leave a good rating, boss.” A woman’s soft voice called his name from inside the apartment. Peter glanced back over his shoulder before his eyes found mine again. “My number hasn’t changed,” he said. “If you’re in trouble, all you have to do is call.” I didn’t have time to answer. The dispatcher was already buzzing my phone with the next order, so I just turned and hurried back down the hall. The truth was, I’d gotten used to not depending on him a long time ago. 1 Back at the dispatch hub, a notification popped up on my phone. A bank transfer. Peter had sent fifty thousand dollars to my old account. I stared at it for a long moment, hesitating, before sending every cent of it back. I was working this job to save up for my family’s medical bills. Honestly, that money would have lifted a crushing weight from my shoulders, but it would have also thrown me headfirst into another abyss. An abyss named Peter Hawthorne. It took me three years to crawl out of that pit. I’d be a fool to jump back in. Peter didn’t say anything, but the next night, he placed another order. The system assigned it to me again. The elevator in his luxury condo building, which had been working perfectly fine the day before, was now plastered with an “Out of Service” sign. I had no choice. I hauled myself up thirty-six flights of stairs. When I finally appeared at his door, panting and drenched in sweat, he just arched an eyebrow. “Sorry about that. We ran out of what I bought yesterday.” I waved a dismissive hand. “Sounds like you two are having a good time.” As I turned to leave, his hand shot out, grabbing my arm in a viselike grip. He gritted his teeth, his voice laced with a fury I couldn’t comprehend. “Zoe, why do you always have to be so damn stubborn?” he snarled. “Would it kill you to just say something soft? To ask for help?” Confused, I wrenched my arm free and rushed off to my next delivery. Three years ago, I had said everything there was to say to Peter Hawthorne. I had pleaded, I had raged, I had whispered every broken, loving word I knew. All I got in return was the thunderous slam of a door and the endless dial tone on the other end of the line. What could he possibly want to hear from me now? Running into Peter again felt like waking from a nightmare. The specific details were already fading, but the suffocating, oppressive atmosphere lingered, clinging to me like a shroud. At least, I thought that was the worst of it. But then his sleek black sedan was parked right in front of the delivery hub. Maggie, my shift manager, rushed out to greet me, a strange mix of exasperation and amusement on her face. She gave my arm a light smack. “Zoe, you sneaky thing! Why didn’t you tell me your brother was the Peter Hawthorne? The one from all the business magazines?” she said. “He’s inside right now. Says he’s here to take you home. Now listen to me, stop fighting with your family and go back to your princess lifestyle.” My legs went weak, and I finally collapsed, curling into a ball on the side of the street. My voice was muffled. “He’s not my brother. He’s my ex-husband.” The smile vanished from Maggie’s face. “The one you had a nasty split with.” She was silent for a moment, then she gently pushed me into the shadows of a nearby alleyway to hide while she went back inside to deal with Peter. I don’t know what she said, but it wasn’t long before he stormed out, his face a mask of fury as she practically shoved him out the door. When I finally pulled myself together and went back inside, Maggie was fussing over something. She jumped when she saw me, then gave me an awkward smile as she pulled a small cupcake from behind her back. A single candle flickered on top, its tiny flame reflected in her eyes. “Well, this is a mess. I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said softly. “Happy birthday, Zoe.” It hit me then. Today was my birthday. Seven years ago today, I had been Peter Hawthorne’s ecstatic bride. Three years ago today, I had signed our divorce papers with a knife held to my own throat. And now, I was just me. I had nothing to do with Peter Hawthorne anymore. I wiped away the tears that had started to fall and closed my eyes, making a wish with all my heart. I wished for Maggie to have a long, happy life. I wished for Skye’s illness to be cured. And I wished that the past few days were just a fluke, a final, fleeting coincidence, and that Peter and I would go our separate ways and never see each other again. Maggie felt so bad about the whole thing that she insisted on taking me out for a late-night meal. We found a small diner, and after a couple of beers, I found myself telling her about Peter. His claim to be my brother wasn’t entirely a lie. When I was six, Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne brought me into their home and adopted me. My mother had passed away when I was young, and my father raised me on his own. He was an engineer at Hawthorne Industries. One day, when the young master was visiting the corporate campus, he accidentally fell into the ornamental lake. My father used the last of his strength to push Peter to the surface. He never came back up himself. Peter Hawthorne owed me a life. From that day on, he was ready to give his for me at a moment’s notice. I couldn’t keep up at the international prep school they sent me to. The other kids mocked me, bullied me. Peter cornered them on the rooftop and single-handedly beat them black and blue. When the school called his parents in, he stood there with his chin held high, defiant. “They called her a stray with no family! Well, I’m not dead! And my mom and dad aren’t dead either!” Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne rushed to the school, one burying his face in his hand while the other offered a weary smile from the principal’s doorway. Neither seemed particularly eager to rescue their son. When I first came to live with the Hawthornes, I couldn’t sleep. I’d close my eyes and see my parents, covered in white sheets, never answering when I called. I never dared to cry out loud, but every night, a yawning Peter would drag his pillow and blanket into my room and set up camp by my bed. He’d reach out and pat my back. “Go to sleep. I’m here.” In high school, the love letters and confessions started piling up, and Peter’s temper grew shorter and shorter. He started hating it when I called him ‘brother,’ and God help anyone who dared to call him their ‘bro-in-law.’ After the hundredth time he’d challenged a boy who confessed to me to a fight, one of his friends finally joked, “Dude, you’re not falling for your sister, are you? You guys aren’t blood-related. She hasn’t even started dating and you’re already this territorial. It would all make sense if you were just jealous.” Peter’s face turned beet red, as if a switch had been flipped in his brain. He stumbled home in a complete daze. That weekend, his father summoned him to the study and yelled at him for what felt like hours. He came out with a shoe print on his shoulder, but he didn’t seem to care. He was just grinning like an idiot. The day we both got our acceptance letters to the same university, Peter confessed his love for me. I had no reason to say no. He was my superhero, the one who had stood between me and my nightmares for over a decade. After realizing his own feelings, he had been the one to confess everything to his parents, clearing away any obstacles before they could even form. Without Peter, my life would have a gaping hole that nothing could ever fill. We dated for years in college, blissfully happy. The moment we moved back home, he proposed. And that’s when everything went wrong. After graduation, we both started working at Hawthorne Industries. The company was a chaotic whirlwind of responsibilities, and we saw less and less of each other. He was the heir apparent; I was just another corporate drone. On the rare occasions we managed to schedule a date, it was always me who got called away for a work emergency. Peter threw a few tantrums about it, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty. After working nonstop for a week straight, I finally carved out some free time and decided to go home to surprise him. Maybe we were on the same wavelength, because when I walked in, the floor was scattered with rose petals. My favorite love song was playing softly from the speakers, and the air was thick with the sweet scent of wine. My heart melted. I walked toward the master bedroom, only to let out a bloodcurdling scream. Peter was asleep, wrapped around a strange girl who was wearing my silk robe. My world shattered. I fled our home, blocked his number, and disappeared. It took him three days to find me. The handsome, polished heir to the Hawthorne fortune was a wreck, his face gaunt and his eyes webbed with red veins. He knelt before me, swearing up and down that he’d been drunk, that he’d mistaken the new intern for me. “Zoe, I screwed up, I deserve to die, but I just missed you so much,” he pleaded. “You were never home. Everyone was saying it was like my fiancée didn’t even exist. We’ve been together for more than a decade. Are you really going to leave me over one stupid mistake?” I hesitated. Seizing the opportunity, Peter had the intern publicly fired. The image of her clutching a cardboard box, sobbing as she walked out of the building, even stirred a flicker of pity in me. We got married on schedule. At the wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne wept with joy, and Peter was practically manic with happiness. I let the festive atmosphere wash over me and made a silent promise to pay more attention to him. So when he suggested I quit my job after the wedding to be his pampered Mrs. Hawthorne, I agreed. The days flowed into years. One afternoon, Mrs. Hawthorne baked some scones and asked me to take them to Peter at the office. As I passed the breakroom, I heard a few women gossiping. One voice, chillingly familiar, floated out. “Oh, you guys didn’t know? The CEO’s wife? She used to be their adopted daughter. His little foster sister.” Another woman gasped. “Wow, talk about a social climber. Seducing your own adoptive brother to move up in the world. How shameless can you get?!” It turned out the entire company knew. That intern had never left Hawthorne Industries. Peter spoiled her rotten, and she felt entitled to say whatever she wanted, even spreading the rumor that Peter was resentful that I had trapped him into marriage, which is why he let her badmouth me. The position I had vacated? She’d been given it the very next day. But Peter was the future of the company, and I was just the wife who lived in his shadow. No one would ever dare cross him to tell me the truth. I was the fool, kept in the dark all along. I stormed into his office. He was reviewing a contract and didn’t even look up. “Didn’t I tell you Zoe was coming by today?” he said casually. “Be a good girl and stay out of her way. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I’ll buy you that bag you wanted.” When he received no answer, he finally looked up, a fond smile still playing on his lips. The smile died when he saw my ashen face. I raised hell. I demanded a divorce. Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne, after scolding Peter, turned to me, trying to smooth things over. “Zoe, dear, you’re the only one in Peter’s heart,” his mother cooed. “That girl is just a pet to him, a toy. It means nothing. In our circle, it’s quite common for men to… keep young women around. Be sensible, dear. Don’t lower yourself to her level, alright?” I was their adopted daughter. We had a history of more than a decade. Before we got married, no one had mentioned a prenup. Mrs. Hawthorne had even told me I was like a real daughter to her and that she would leave all her shares to me, not even to Peter. I looked at her, my last hope flickering. “Auntie,” I asked, my voice small, “if I were your real daughter, would you be telling me the same thing?” She couldn’t meet my eyes. She just gave a bitter, silent smile. The sweet little boy who had built me a second home had grown up, and I, after all these years, realized I had never had a home at all. This time, Peter wasn’t panicked or haggard like the first time he’d been caught. He went to work, he came home, and he continued to dote on his intern. A gossipy friend asked him if he wasn’t afraid I’d actually go through with the divorce and take half of Hawthorne Industries. He just laughed, pulling the girl closer. “Zoe? I’ve been protecting her like a precious pearl my whole life. She’ll throw a fit, but she’ll never fly out of the palm of my hand.” Everyone assumed I would make a scene, then face reality and back down. No one believed I would actually leave. So when I filed for divorce, asking for nothing, they were completely blindsided. The headlines screamed about the high-society zero-dollar divorce. The Hawthorne Industries stock plummeted in response. Mr. Hawthorne, in a fit of rage, suffered a stroke. Mrs. Hawthorne was rushing him to the hospital when their car was struck by a truck. Everyone in the car, including the driver, was killed instantly. When I arrived at the hospital, Peter charged at me. The slap was so hard my ears rang. “Zoe!” he roared, his body trembling with rage. “You became an orphan, so you had to make me one too?! How can your heart be so cruel? I wish… I wish I had never met you!” I was already numb with grief, but his blow sent me stumbling backward, the world spinning around me. I fainted. The last thought that crossed my mind before I lost consciousness was one of regret. Peter was right. If I had never met him, my father would still be alive. I would have had a family, someone who truly loved me, someone who would have stood between me and any danger, unconditionally. Peter, I thought, I wish I had never met you, either. When I woke up, he was by my bedside, holding my hand. A storm of emotions crossed his face before it settled into a blank calm. “Zoe,” he whispered, “we’re having a baby.” He squeezed my hand. “You’ve given me a family again. For the baby’s sake… can we just pretend none of this ever happened? Please?” Exhausted and utterly hopeless, I nodded. This child would be my only family. Connected to me by blood, raised with real love and acceptance. For the first few months of the pregnancy, it seemed like Peter and I had reached a fragile truce. But he was terrified that I would still try to divorce him after the baby was born. So he moved to cut off all my escape routes. He had a specialist declare me mentally unstable, ensuring I would never get custody. He reported my university admission files for supposed fraud, getting my degree revoked so I would have no way to support myself independently. He was determined to turn me back into his precious pearl—perfect, round, and utterly incapable of leaving the palm of his hand. Incapable of hurting him, or myself, ever again. Only then did Peter relax. But someone else wasn’t finished with me. Someone was always taking pictures of me near the hospital I frequented. A car would tail mine whenever I left the house. The nanny, hand-picked from a top agency, was caught adding an unknown substance to my prenatal supplements. I was a nervous wreck, living in constant fear. One day, I called Peter, but a familiar face answered the video call. “Well, well, if it isn’t Mrs. Hawthorne,” the intern, Amber, purred. She was lounging by a pool in a bikini, showing off her flawless body. “You just focus on that little bun in the oven, honey. Wouldn’t want to get too many stretch marks.” Her tone was sickly sweet. “Peter’s in the shower. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of him for you. Besides, even if you lose this one, it’s no big deal. I’m younger, prettier, and healthier than you. I can definitely give him an even cuter baby.” My mind snapped. I fell to my knees, bowing my head to the camera on the floor. “Please,” I begged, “do whatever you want to me, just leave my baby alone!” I don’t know what she said to him, but a moment later, Peter took the phone. His voice was ice. “Are you having a paranoid episode?” he asked. “Zoe, if you’re going to have a meltdown, do it at home. Don’t go out and start biting at people.” He hung up before I could explain. He kept saying things could go back to the way they were, but I knew, with chilling certainty, that the Peter who would have fought the world for me was gone forever. On my way to another prenatal check-up, a car tailgated me so aggressively that my driver panicked, swerving and crashing into a roadside barrier. When Peter rushed to the hospital, there wasn’t a trace of concern on his face. He tossed a stack of photos onto my bed. “It’s over, Zoe,” he said flatly. “Go get rid of the baby. I can’t let my parents’ legacy go to some bastard.” They were photos of me in bed with a strange man. I picked them up. In the corner of one photo, I could even see a faint, tell-tale watermark from an AI generator that hadn’t been properly cropped. I didn’t bother pointing it out. I just looked at him, my voice quiet. “If I get rid of the baby, will you grant me a divorce?” Peter frowned. “No. The last thing my father said to me before he left that day was to apologize and take care of you for the rest of your life. I won’t let you leave me.” I didn’t cry or plead this time. I picked up the fruit knife from the bedside table, pressed it against my neck, and asked again. “If I get rid of the baby, will you grant me a divorce?” Peter actually laughed. “Zoe, who are you trying to scare? Do you really think, after everything, that I still care enough to be hurt by you?” So I pushed the tip of the blade into my skin, just enough to draw a thin line of red. And I asked him one last time. “Peter, if I get rid of the baby, will you grant me a divorce?”

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I took time off work to be the maid of honor for my best friend. The moment I landed, she had a welcome gift waiting for me: the latest iPhone, a bottle of designer perfume, and a check for $5,200. “Just a little something,” she said, hugging me tight. “Even though I’m getting married, you’ll always be the most important person in my life, Stella.” I was so moved I could have cried. The next morning, I was up at the crack of dawn, slipping into my bridesmaid dress to go find her. Anna was in the middle of her makeup when I walked in. She saw me and waved excitedly, but as I got closer, her face went rigid. Her smile vanished, replaced by a mask of pure ice. “Get the hell out of my wedding, you bitch.” I froze. … “Anna, are you kidding me?” I managed a nervous laugh, trying to play it off. “It’s your big day. Stop messing around, you’re actually scaring me.” I reached out to touch her arm, hoping a little physical contact would snap her out of this bizarre, far-too-realistic “joke.” But she recoiled as if I were toxic. “Who’s kidding? Get out. Or I’m calling security.” My hand hung in the air. My mind went blank as I frantically tried to figure out what I could have possibly done wrong. I came up with nothing, even as Anna picked up her phone and actually started dialing. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “Did I do something wrong? Is there some local custom I don’t know about? Did I offend someone? I can apologize, Anna, just please don’t be angry.” She was marrying a man from a city over 800 miles away from our hometown. It was possible I’d unknowingly broken some rule. I clung to that thought like a lifeline, looking at her with pleading eyes. “Just tell me what I did.” Her gaze was venomous. “There’s no custom. The fact that I’m not spelling it out for you is me being polite. Security! Get her out of here! I never want to see you again!” Just yesterday, we were curled up in the same bed, laughing about memories from childhood. She was so worried about my long trip that she’d booked me my own suite to rest. We’d only been apart for three hours. How could everything have changed so drastically? When the security guard approached, I shook my head, my eyes fixed on Anna. “I don’t know what I did, and you won’t tell me. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. But today is the most important day of your life. Please don’t kick me out. I’m your only bridesmaid. If I go, what will you do?” The words were barely out of my mouth before Anna lunged forward and yanked at the bodice of my dress. “Take it off!” She shoved her makeup artist forward. “Any woman can do this job. I don’t need you. Stella, get the hell out. I don’t have time for your drama. My makeup isn’t even done! You’re going to ruin my entire wedding, you bitch!” I clutched at the fabric to keep myself from being exposed, the word “bitch” draining all the strength from my body. I looked at her, defeated, and pulled the handcrafted fan I’d stayed up for nights making from my bag. I placed it gently on the table. “I wish you a happy marriage,” I said, my voice hollow. “I’ll return the dress to you shortly.” Anna snatched the fan. For a fleeting second, I thought it was a sign of a truce. “I worked on that for so long,” I said quickly. “I even burned my fingers. It’s just the style you love.” The next second, she smashed it on the floor right in front of me, the delicate frame splintering into pieces. She pointed a trembling finger at the door. “Get. Out.” Back in my room, I took off the dress and sent Anna a text. [I’m still at the hotel. If you need anything, just call me.] A red exclamation mark appeared. The message failed to send. She had blocked me. I fell onto the bed, utterly defeated, the “why” screaming in my mind. But the only answer that came was a knock on the door. It was security, sent by Anna to escort me off the premises. I dragged my luggage through the lobby, past the large, smiling photo of the happy couple, and stood shivering in the cold wind. I had to know. Even if it was the end, I deserved to know why. I called the groom. The phone connected. The man who had been nothing but polite and charming to me before suddenly spat venom. “You have the nerve to call me? Anna has the worst luck, having a slut like you for a friend. Get lost!” That one word—slut—was like a key. A terrible, sickening idea began to form in my mind. Dodging security, I went back to Anna’s suite, carrying the welcome gifts she had given me. I found her glaring at me with undisguised contempt. “Is this what it’s about?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Do you think I’m some gold-digger who only cares about expensive gifts? I tried to refuse them yesterday, but you insisted. Here, take it all back. I don’t want any of it. I just want my friend back.” Maybe it had all been a test. Anna’s eyes scanned the gifts, then me, as if we were both piles of garbage. “This stuff is nothing to me,” she sneered. “I’ll say it one last time. Get out. Or I’ll call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing. My fiancé is a powerful man who loves me. You’ll rot in jail.” I watched, frozen, as she started to dial 911. I left before she could complete the call, leaving the gifts behind. I hadn’t gotten far down the hall when the door to her suite flew open and the gifts came sailing out, landing in a heap on the carpet. “Take your trash with you, you garbage person. And get your filthy hands off my property.” I walked back and picked them up. I wasn’t about to throw away thousands of dollars. My flight, my time off work—this whole disaster had already cost me enough. I booked a flight home for that afternoon. That way, if Anna changed her mind, if she needed me for any reason, I could still get back in time. I told my boyfriend, Alex, what happened. I sent him a picture from the day before, of me in the bridesmaid dress, laughing and play-fighting with Anna. [This is the dress. It’s not revealing, not flashy. I wore my hair in a bun so I wouldn’t outshine her. I wore simple jewelry. I even wore flats so I’d be shorter than her. I thought of everything, Alex. What did I do wrong?!] He sent back a hug emoji. [If you know you did nothing wrong, then the problem is with the friendship, not you. Don’t torture yourself. Come home. I’ll take you out for a nice dinner tonight, we’ll relax.] I sighed, a tiny sliver of hope still flickering in my chest, waiting for a message from Anna that never came. The final boarding call echoed through the terminal. I got on the plane. I felt like a zombie walking back into my apartment. Alex’s “nice dinner” had been postponed. A last-minute business trip had come up, so he couldn’t even pick me from the airport. My roommate, Sarah, who had also been my dormmate for all four years of college, saw my miserable expression. “What’s wrong? Did the wedding not go well?” I told her everything. Her eyes went wide with shock. “How could she do that to you?” “I don’t know,” I whispered, slumping onto the couch. “I’m just so tired. I’m going to bed.” Sarah nodded sympathetically. The next morning, I woke up to find breakfast on the table with a note from her: Cheer up! Off to work. xo Sarah. A little warmth spread through my chest. We’d started rooming together right after graduation when we were both broke. Now that I was making good money, we’d stayed together. Genuine friendship was a rare and precious thing. I ate every bite, took a picture to thank her, and got ready for work. My boss had only approved two days off, warning me that I was too crucial to the team to be gone for long. Any more time and my pay would be docked. I walked into the morning meeting and was surprised to see the Chairwoman of the board, Mrs. Davenport. I smiled and nodded at her; she smiled back. But the moment I sat down, her expression soured. She slammed her hand on the table, the sound cracking through the quiet room. She stood up, her face contorted with rage, and pointed a trembling finger at me. “You. Get out of my company. You’re fired!” I was stunned. The scene was so eerily similar to the day before that my brain couldn’t process it. “Why? Is there a problem with the project?” “The project is proceeding perfectly,” she snapped. “Is it because I took time off?” “Your leave was approved. It’s not that.” “Then why are you firing me? I haven’t done anything wrong.” “I am the boss, Stella,” she said, her voice dangerously low. “I don’t need a reason. Go to HR, collect your severance, and be out of my building in five minutes.” She collapsed back into her chair, breathing heavily. Mrs. Davenport was usually so kind, a motherly figure to everyone in the office. She was known for giving second chances. And I was her star employee. She’d been planning to send me abroad for a special training program, promising me a promotion and a huge raise after my current project was completed. Now, she was looking at me with pure, unadulterated disgust. I felt like I was cursed. “Please,” I begged, “just tell me why. I haven’t done anything.” My direct manager, Mr. Roberts, rushed to her side, rubbing her back. “Just go, Stella,” he hissed at me. “If you give her a heart attack, your severance won’t even cover the hospital bills.” His words snapped me back to reality. He was right. I left the conference room, my head spinning. As the door closed behind me, I heard a coworker mutter, “Knew she was going to get fired.” Like a lost ship spotting a lighthouse, I rushed over to him. “What did you say? Why was I fired?” He looked me up and down with revulsion. “Because you’re a slut.” Slut. There was that word again. The same word Anna’s fiancé had used. The same implication in Anna’s “bitch.” But what had I done? I looked at my reflection in the glass door. I was wearing tailored trousers, not a skirt. Sensible leather shoes, not heels. My makeup was minimal. My clothes were professional and modest. “Why are you calling me that?” I asked, my voice cracking. “What did I do?” The coworker took a step back, as if I were contagious. He waved over a security guard. “Get her out of here.” For the second time in two days, I was physically removed from a building.

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We had been divorced for four years when I ran into Lucas Sterling at the hospital. I was there to pick up a pathology report. He was there to visit his newborn son. We stood in the elevator in silence, the air thick with unspoken history. Neither of us was willing to break the ice. But the moment I stepped out, he chased after me. “Elena,” he called out, his voice laced with concern. “Are you sick? Do you need my help?” I shook my head, keeping my expression flat. “I’m not the patient. My child is.” He froze. His eyes drifted to the waiting area, where a little girl in a floral dress sat quietly, swinging her legs. She looked up, her eyes wide and timid—eyes that were a mirror image of his own. Lucas’s pupils constricted violently. “Is that… is that our child?” To this day, he had never known he had a daughter. 1 Across the sterile, narrow hallway, Lucas stared at Clementine. She was a little over three years old, peeking curiously at the stranger. Her brow, her nose—she was his carbon copy. After a long silence, Lucas turned back to me, his voice trembling. “Is she… ours?” I nodded. There was no point in hiding it now. He frowned, a mix of confusion and anger rising on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I looked at him, and suddenly, the memory of the abortion clinic flooded my mind. Back then, Lucas was angry that I had confronted his mistress, Sophie. When he found out I was pregnant, he treated it like a punishment. He forced me into that clinic, demanding I get rid of the “problem.” I didn’t cry on the way there. But as the cold instruments pierced me, tears had rolled down my face from the sheer physical pain. I thought I would remember that pain forever. But looking back now, I answered him calmly. “I found out I was pregnant with Clementine a month after we separated. She was already almost four months along. I was terrified that if you knew, you’d force me to terminate her too.” “At that stage, it would have been too dangerous. It would have cost me my life.” Lucas looked stunned. “I… I didn’t mean that. What’s wrong with her? What illness does she have?” “Congenital heart valve defect.” Lucas looked back at Clementine, his expression unreadable. “I’ll contact the best specialists in the country,” he said urgently. “I don’t care how much it costs. We will fix her…” “There’s no need,” I interrupted. “Clem had her surgery last month. Today was just a check-up. The doctor says she’s recovering perfectly.” I ended the conversation. “If that’s all, I’m leaving.” But Lucas called out again. “The medical bills… are you okay for money?” “I mean, if you need anything, you can ask me.” I took Clementine’s hand and turned toward the stairwell. “Not necessary.” The rain had already stopped. Offering an umbrella now was meaningless. 2 In the stairwell, a group of nurses were chatting during a shift change. They were each holding a small box of gourmet chocolates. One nurse, who I knew well, handed Clementine a lollipop and whispered to me. “That’s Lucas Sterling, the CEO of Sterling Corp, upstairs in the VIP suite. His wife just gave birth to a son this morning. He’s so happy he’s handing out Godiva to the whole floor.” I heard the others gossiping as they walked down. They said the Sterling baby was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. They said Lucas was so thrilled he donated five million dollars to the hospital wing on the spot. They said his wife was elegant and gentle, a perfect match for him. I listened calmly, feeling nothing. Until I heard this: “Actually, this is his second marriage. He had an ex-wife before.” “I heard she was some psycho from the trailer park. She used to show up at his office screaming and hitting him.” “He put up with it for three years before he finally divorced her.” The nurses sighed in sympathy. “Poor Mr. Sterling. How did he end up with a crazy woman?” “That woman was an idiot. Imagine fumbling a bag like Lucas Sterling.” “Well, he’s got his happy ending now.” I let out a dry laugh. So that was the narrative. I had become the villain in his story. I didn’t argue. I just patted Clementine’s head and kept walking. Suddenly, the stairwell went quiet. I looked up to see Lucas standing on the landing above us. His voice was cold, directed at the nurses. “My ex-wife wasn’t like that. Please stop spreading rumors.” “She… was actually a good person.” He spoke to them, but his eyes were fixed on me. I didn’t stop walking. Honestly, the nurses weren’t entirely wrong. Towards the end of my marriage to Lucas, I did act like a crazy person. 3 Lucas wasn’t born a Sterling. He was a foster kid who ended up in my small, rural town in the Rust Belt. The couple who fostered him were paid by the state, but they didn’t care about him. Once they had their own biological son a year later, Lucas became invisible. In my memories, Lucas’s childhood was miserable. He worked endless chores, wore rags, and was always hungry. My Nana couldn’t stand watching it. She’d call him over to our porch for dinner. We’d sit side-by-side on plastic stools, eating Nana’s stew. Whenever his foster dad beat him, he ran to us. Nana would apply ointment to his bruises, sighing. “This is no way to live.” So, my Nana—a woman who had never left the county—took a bus three hours to the city to find records of his biological parents. Even Lucas had given up hope, but Nana was stubborn. And miraculously, she found them. The “Sterling” family from New York City. The day they came to get him was a spectacle. A convoy of black SUVs rolled down our dirt road. It was a scene I’d only seen in movies. When Lucas left, he took me with him. Nana waved goodbye from the porch, tears in her eyes. “Go get an education,” she yelled. “See the world.” We were both sixteen. For the next ten years, our lives intertwined. We went from best friends to lovers. He married me despite his wealthy family’s objections. I planned a dream wedding. I remember him lifting my veil, kissing me like I was the most precious thing in the world. I thought I was running toward a fairy tale. I didn’t know that clouds scatter easily in the wind, and glass breaks at the slightest touch. I dressed up in my finest gown only to walk into a tragedy. 4 I had mentored a girl named Sophie. She was from a background like mine—poor, struggling, but bright. She got into the same university in the city where I lived. I picked her up from the train station, paid for her dorm essentials, and showed her the ropes. I promised to drive her to orientation, but the night before, I got a call from Nana’s neighbor. Nana had fallen and broken her hip. I booked the first flight home. Since Sophie had so much luggage, I asked Lucas to help her move in. That was my mistake. I let the wolf into the fold. Nana’s injury was severe. I spent months shuttling between the city and my hometown, too distracted to notice the changes in Lucas. On Lucas’s 28th birthday, he called to say he was stuck at a business dinner. I went down to the garage to check something in the car and saw them. Lucas was in the driver’s seat. Sophie was straddling him, her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him. The window was halfway down. I saw Lucas’s eyes—usually so calm—filled with raw, animal lust. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I smashed my purse against the window. Sophie flinched like a frightened deer, burying her face in his chest. But Lucas didn’t look panicked. He just held her tighter, protecting her from me. “I pursued her, Elena. Don’t blame her.” “She grew up poor, just like you. Just like me. I saw myself in her.” “Maybe what we had wasn’t love. It was just family loyalty. Meeting Sophie made me realize what passion actually feels like.” So, the time he climbed a snowy mountain to write my name in the snow wasn’t passion? The vows we made on a windy beach weren’t love? That day, I learned their affair had been going on for six months. While I was working, the girl I mentored was wearing my silk pajamas, sleeping in my bed, and laughing with my husband. Sophie looked at me with wide, teary eyes. “Elena, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to take anything from you. I just… I love Lucas so much.” “You’ve helped me for so long. Please, help me one last time. Let him go.” Unlike my disheveled state, she was draped in Lucas’s suit jacket, holding his hand. And on her finger was a blue diamond ring. It matched his wedding band better than my white diamond ever did. Drained of all energy, I leaned against a concrete pillar. “Let’s divorce.” I thought he would agree. After all, he had found “true love.” To my surprise, Lucas refused.

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After divorcing the top-tier idol, my interview where we dissed each other went trending. A popular starlet posted sarcastically: “A toad lusting after swan meat.” While the whole internet was waiting to laugh at me, the noble and cold Movie King posted late at night to support me: “Sister is so good, how could anyone be blind enough to look down on her?” Netizens exploded: [Is this still our noble and cold Movie King? Why does he feel a bit… bitchy?] 1 I had been secretly married to the top-tier idol, Caleb, for three years. We spent little time together. On the day I finished filming, it happened to be our wedding anniversary. I packed up early, planning to rush home overnight to spend some quality time with Caleb during my break and give him a surprise. But when I opened the door, I saw men’s and women’s clothes scattered all over the floor. There was an indescribable scent in the air, mixed with a perfume that wasn’t mine—seductive and pungent, yet strangely familiar. The candles on the dining table hadn’t burned out yet. The bedroom door was ajar, a sliver of light seeping out, along with the faint, ambiguous whispers of a woman. It was obvious what was happening. I took out my phone and started recording. 2 I dragged my suitcase to a hotel and stayed awake all night. The sweeter the old memories, the more nauseating Caleb’s betrayal felt. I drafted a divorce agreement overnight and sent it to Caleb via express delivery. Whether it was because of the video in my hand or because he had long intended to do so, Caleb signed it readily. But we both chose to keep the divorce a secret. Perhaps unable to bear seeing me devastated, my agent handed me a variety show notice: “A slow-paced travel variety show that’s very popular recently. Consider it early promotion for your drama, and a chance to relax.” “I’ve checked the guest list. They are basically acquaintances you’ve met before. There’s also the young Movie King, Liam, who is in the limelight, and the starlet, Bella.” After skimming through the contract, I agreed readily. Relaxing while making money, why not? But coincidences make stories. On the day of the pre-recording interview for the variety show. The guests arrived early. Besides the ones I already knew, there was a familiar figure: Caleb. I froze on the spot and turned to my agent: “He’s in this show too?” My agent was obviously confused as well: “I didn’t hear about this.” Seeing me arrive, the staff surrounded me: “Teacher Nancy, let’s go to the dressing room first. The livestream will start soon.” I suppressed the dissatisfaction in my heart. Having signed the contract, backing out now would mean paying a sky-high penalty fee. For me, love is never as important as bread and butter. Sitting in the waiting room, I began to familiarize myself with the script. To warm up for the variety show, this pre-recording used a livestream format, allowing viewers to interact with guests in the chat room. Although called an interview, the show’s writers had already listed the questions and standard answers. I just needed to improvise reasonably based on them. The first few interview questions went smoothly, but the last question wasn’t in the script. With a polite smile, the director slowly asked: “It is understood that this variety show is the second on-screen collaboration between Teacher Nancy and Teacher Caleb. What are your impressions of each other?” Caleb and I had a hidden marriage and a hidden divorce. His single persona was marketed to perfection, while my resources were downgraded, so almost no one knew about this short marriage. Taking a deep breath, I smiled: “Fake abs, padded butt, insoles at least two inches thick.” The director froze on the spot. Caleb turned his head to look at me, his face full of surprise, his eyes filled with unconcealed anger, gritting his teeth: “Hypocritical, nice face but cruel heart.” Comments densely covered the screen in an instant: [Who is this? A D-list celebrity dares to scold Caleb?] [Finally invited a top-tier star, and Nancy really dares to leech off anyone’s fame. She dares to say anything!] [Stabbing each other in the lungs during the pre-recording stage? Something’s wrong with these two. Let’s watch.] [Fam, who understands? I smell a breakup. Did these two date?] 3 The next day, #Caleb Nancy Livestream Diss Battle# #Good Morning World Guests Caleb Nancy# Both topics topped the trending search list. My account gained hundreds of thousands of followers overnight. Of course, mostly haters. Just as my agent was ecstatic, the popular starlet Bella posted sarcastically under the topic: “A toad lusting after swan meat.” In no time, this post was sent to the trending search by bots. Endless insults poured in: [Bella is right. Nancy, have some shame. Is Caleb’s fame that easy to leech off?] [Always a leech. Hard to comment on this.] Out of ten thousand comments, more than half were negative. My reputation hit rock bottom instantly. But at this moment, Movie King Liam posted late at night: “Sister is so good, how could anyone be blind enough to look down on her?” Five minutes later, it topped the trending search list, and the top comment exploded: [Is this still our noble and cold Movie King? Why does he feel a bit… bitchy?] Liam’s post was like a heavy bomb dropped into a calm lake, stirring up ripples one after another. Netizens asked curiously: [What is the relationship between Liam and Nancy? Daring to support Nancy at this time?] Solo fans explained: [Our brother is soft-hearted. After all, they are on the same variety show; it’s not good to make things too awkward.] There were also dissatisfied ones: [Nancy is too manipulative. Knowing there are a top-tier star and a Movie King in the show, she deliberately leeched off the heat.] [Our Movie King is beautiful alone. Please don’t be sentimental. Flops stay away, thanks.] Having been in the industry for so many years, I was used to hearing insults. After all, this contributed to my traffic. It was just Liam’s support that surprised me. Even my agent called specifically to ask: “Nancy, did you have a friendship with Liam before?” “I don’t think so?” Liam’s perfectly sculpted face was unforgettable. If I had to mention it… a memory suddenly surfaced in my mind. It was the third day after Caleb signed the divorce agreement. Seeing me depressed, a friend took me to a bar, claiming: “Instead of languishing over a scumbag, let’s go look at handsome guys.” “The next one is better, the next one is more obedient!” Unable to resist her, I agreed. But I forgot that when I get drunk, my personality changes drastically, and I act crazy. After three rounds of drinks, I started getting tipsy, picked up my phone, walked straight to a handsome guy in a booth not far away, and opened my QR code: “Hello, handsome. Wanna kiss?” The man turned his head, high nose bridge, indifferent eyes. Cruelly rejected, I squatted down hugging my legs and screamed: “I thought we had a chance. Didn’t expect it to be my monologue.” Perhaps seeing this for the first time, the man was shaken, extended his phone, and showed his QR code. I added him on WeChat and casually noted him as “Chat Guy.” After all, ordering a guy in a bar, if not for chatting, what else could it be for? Opening the chat box, I bombarded him: “Sister has five apartments in Beverly Hills. Brother, wanna consider?” “Be my boyfriend, only profit, no loss.” … Thinking about it now, this “Chat Guy” looked exactly like Liam! I covered my head. “Then how did he…?” My agent hesitated to speak, but I understood her implication. But with just a one-time encounter in a bar, Liam shouldn’t remember me. Seeing me silent, she quickly changed the subject: “Don’t think about it. Filming starts in two days. Adjust your state.” I nodded: “Okay.” 4 “Good Morning, World” is positioned as a slow-paced travel variety show. The seven guests travel to destinations arranged by the program team in turn. For each destination, different guests prepare guides and plan the itinerary in advance. The first stop is Hawaii. The guides are Caleb and Bella. Due to the unprecedented heat of the pre-recording, the pilot episode received a huge wave of comments as soon as it aired: [Top-tier star × popular starlet, I love this guide configuration.] [Anyone like me wanting to see the frenemy CP? Caleb and Nancy dissing each other is also refreshing!] [Only a pilot episode? One person’s blood letter asking for the first episode to be edited and aired quickly!!] On the day of official recording, I arrived at the airport early. Liam was already in the waiting hall. As the youngest Movie King in the entertainment industry, Liam’s outstanding appearance has won a large number of fangirls. Black bucket hat paired with a baseball jacket and boots, distinct profile, smooth jawline. The whole person was casual yet exuded a sense of alienation warning strangers away. Where was the “bitchy” look from the trending search? Suppressing the doubts in my heart, I walked over slowly. Liam noticed me, his cold eyes softened a bit, corners of his mouth curved up, and he reached out to greet me: “Liam.” I shook his hand, a light grip then release: “Nancy.” “Are they not here yet?” “Still a while. Should be soon.” Pausing, he added: “Caleb is already on his way.” Liam stood almost a head taller than me. When speaking, he specifically bent down to get close to me. The fresh sea salt scent on him caught me off guard, filling my nose. Unexpected close contact. Liam leaned into my ear, lowering his voice: “Sister, didn’t you say you’d buy me apartments in Beverly Hills?” Me: !!! My intuition was right. That night’s “Chat Guy” was Liam! My heart trembled, and I took half a step back calmly. Seduction by beauty, who can withstand this? Liam and Caleb are two completely opposite people. Caleb has always been lazy. When we just got married, we agreed to travel to another city together. Almost missed the flight because he slept in. Arriving at the destination, he often canceled the itinerary last minute due to a whim. I didn’t expect him to be the same even on a variety show. Immersed in my own memories, I didn’t notice Liam’s slightly disappointed look beside me. Seeing this scene, netizens commented frantically: [Liam is the King of Charm! He even bent down to listen to Nancy! This kind of detail really kills me boohoo] [Don’t say it, the CP feeling is really mysterious. Nancy and Liam look so good together! The vibes of older sister and puppy dog are there.] [Disclaimer first, I’m Liam’s solo fan, but when he mentioned Caleb, his tone felt weird, and his face wasn’t quite right. Any family members feel the same?] [Agree with the above! Clearly said they were almost here, but insisted on mentioning Caleb. Connecting to the trending search, is Liam planning to announce officially with Nancy?] Netizens discussed enthusiastically, and the other guests also hurried into the waiting hall. The two guides were the last to arrive at the gathering place. Bella panted, her small face flushed, apologizing repeatedly: “Sorry, sorry, didn’t expect everyone to come so early. It’s my first time being a guide, I thought arriving at the gathering time was fine.” Caleb had a cold face, his gaze patrolling back and forth between me and Liam, emotions indistinguishable. Several guests expressed they didn’t mind. The group, led by Caleb, went to check in. Walking past me, Caleb stopped: “In the group chat, you said you arrived very early.” “Looking forward to the Hawaii trip that much?” He spoke to me, but his eyes looked at Liam. He must have seen Liam’s post and the top comment. He didn’t avoid suspicion with Bella, yet was dissatisfied with my contact with Liam. Back when we were together, I interpreted it as Caleb being possessive and jealous. Looking at it now, it was just making trouble out of nothing. I laughed in anger. Just as I wanted to retort, Liam spoke with a smile: “Very much looking forward to it.” “Especially knowing Sister is also participating in this variety show, I was so excited I didn’t sleep all night.” I froze. Was this meant for me? But Liam didn’t care at all, wearing a polite smile on his face. Looking at Caleb, his face was so dark water could drip from it. Secretly delighted, I glanced at the gloomy Caleb, followed Liam’s steps, and hurried to check in. The interaction between us also sparked speculation among netizens: [Is it my illusion? Did Liam and Nancy know each other before?] [Movie King Liam is too good at this, right? Tea Dog (scheming puppy) yyds (eternal god)! Nancy-Liam CP, I’m shipping first out of respect.] [Seems like a huge Shuraba (battlefield)! Ex and current meeting, war is imminent! Sister Nancy has got something.] [Hard to comment [doge face]. Movie King Liam isn’t like this in other variety shows! The green tea scent is too strong, I like it!]

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1 Victoria Greene, the city’s elite darling, was famous for her one-month flings and zero commitment. A line of suitors hoping to lock her down stretched across the city. In a good mood, she’d gift a mansion; in a bad mood, a million-dollar goodbye check. Everyone laughed, calling me the most humiliated kept man alive—and they believed I’d endure it forever. Until Victoria brought home Liam Anderson, an ordinary college student who broke her monthly rotation rule. She gave me two choices: accept an open marriage with Liam as an equal partner, or divorce her, take half her wealth, and leave. Her friends watched eagerly, expecting me to swallow my pride and stay for the money. But I didn’t hesitate. I chose to leave. In my past life, I chose tolerance. Liam only pushed for more—forbidding Victoria from touching me or having my children. Old and alone, I watched his family grow. Even after Victoria’s death, her will ignored me completely, leaving everything to Liam. I died lonely, bearing only the empty title of her husband. Reborn, I finally understood: take the money and go. This time, I wanted nothing to do with her. I picked up the divorce papers, read every word, and reached for the pen. Victoria, surprisingly, spoke, a tightness in her voice she herself might not have noticed. “Alex Jupp, are you sure? Once you sign, there’ll be no turning back.” My hand didn’t falter. The pen scratched a clean arc across the paper. I signed. “I’ll pack my things and leave now.” Why would I regret it? In my past life, I foolishly believed she brought Liam home as a new form of torment. I naively thought, after all these years, there had to be some affection between us. How laughable. She and Liam had two children in three years, living a life of devoted affection until their old age. And I? I was nothing more than an awkward fixture in that house, a silent ornament for half a lifetime, the subject of whispered jokes for decades. It wasn’t until my twilight years that I overheard her and Liam talking in a hospital room. She said the dramatic scene, the “affair” I supposedly had with a disheveled housemaid, had been entirely her doing. “I was just tired of him, and I didn’t want a messy divorce.” Her clouded eyes held not a shred of guilt. “So I engineered that whole thing. That way, whatever I did next, it would look perfectly justified.” So that was it. No wonder my desperate explanations were always met with her cold disbelief. Because she knew the truth all along. She didn’t love me, yet she used a fabricated crime to trap me for fifty years. She could have ended it cleanly, but instead, she chose to slowly carve me to death with a blunt knife. I looked at her, at the young yet still chillingly indifferent face before me, and felt nothing but a churning, seething hatred where love once resided. She stared blankly at the signed agreement, her eyes wide with bewilderment. Outside, the furtive sounds of eavesdropping abruptly ceased. The next second, my “esteemed” in-laws burst into the room, beaming. My mother-in-law grabbed Liam’s hand, scrutinizing him, clucking with approval. “Oh, it’s so much better with young people! So much vitality!” My father-in-law, who usually glowered at me, was smiling benignly now. He cast a pointed glance my way. “Finally, we’ve gotten rid of the dead weight. How many years has it been? Not even an heir.” Liam ducked his head shyly, feigning modesty. “Uncle, don’t say that. I’m not that much younger than Alex.” He paused, a blush rising on his cheeks. “Actually, Victoria is already a month pregnant. It’s early, so we hadn’t wanted to say anything.” I raised an eyebrow. Of course. The familiar thinly veiled jabs, the sickening tone. But this time, I felt nothing. For years, to be the perfect kept husband, I toiled like a dog at Greene Corp during the day. At night, I returned home to serve these demanding, antiquated relatives. I was barely thirty, and my temples were already streaked with gray. Yes, I looked old. I turned and walked into the bedroom, beginning to pack my meager belongings. My mind was already racing, planning where to go first for a well-deserved break after the money came through. I didn’t notice Victoria follow me in. “It’s late. No need to move out immediately. Stay another night.” “Isn’t that villa on the West End still empty? You can stay there for now. I’ll come visit when I have time.” “Alex, I know you love me. Don’t be childish and spiteful.” She gently placed a hand on her flat stomach. “But a proper title… I truly can’t give you that anymore. I can’t let my child be born a bastard.” I didn’t reply. I simply picked up my suitcase, walked past her, and headed straight for the door. “There’s nothing left to say between us. I’m glad to be divorcing you.” “If you have any conscience left, just send me the money you owe me. Quickly.” The night wind, carrying a dusting of fine snow, bit at my skin. It was icy, bone-chilling, yet it couldn’t extinguish the fire that burned brighter and hotter within me. 2 Victoria Greene’s efficiency was, as always, impressive. When I woke up, three hundred million dollars had landed in my bank account. The first thing I did with the money was book the most luxurious private club in the city. Haircut, full spa, the works. The haggard, gray-haired man in the mirror was gone. In his place was a sharp-eyed young man with defiant red hair. I had just changed into fresh clothes when my good friend, Ethan Hayes, called. He immediately launched into an astonished shout. “Alex Jupp! What’s going on with you and Victoria? Are you insane? Has the whole world gone mad?!” I held the phone away from my ear, asking lazily, “What’s up?” “What’s up? Don’t you read the news?!” Ethan’s voice was filled with disbelief. “The headlines are all about Victoria Greene taking that pretty boy to a gala! She stood in front of all the reporters and declared that kid her only husband! Said they’re getting married immediately!” He lowered his voice, a hint of cautious concern in it. “Your stuck-up in-laws were there too, saying that kid is ‘worthy’! Buddy, are you okay?” All the public acknowledgment I had never received, all the validation I had yearned for half my life, Victoria had now bestowed upon another man. “I’m fine,” I said, admiring my new look. “We’re divorced.” “Divorced…?” Ethan couldn’t believe it. He’d watched me love Victoria for over a decade, watched me humble myself, abandon my self-respect, and beg like a dog for that marriage. I didn’t offer any further explanation. I just chuckled softly. “Free tonight? Come out for a drink. My treat.” At the city’s most extravagant bar, the VIP booth was laden with bottles of the most expensive champagne. Several young, beautiful hostesses hovered around me, eagerly pouring drinks. Ethan’s eyes widened. “Holy hell, now I believe you. You’ve really moved on. This isn’t like the old you.” The old me, desperate to prove to Victoria that I wasn’t after her money, scrutinized every purchase for its cost-effectiveness. I was terrified she’d think I was wasteful or didn’t care for the family. Now, I sat in the opulent private room, looking at the man reflected in the polished glass. Defiant red hair, a perfectly tailored custom suit. Ethan raised his glass and clinked it against mine with a loud thud. “You’re acting like the Alex Jupp from back in our top business school days – the once-in-a-century genius.” He chugged a large gulp of champagne, fuming on my behalf. “How many venture capitalists were fighting over you back then? If you’d started your own company, you would have crushed Greene Corp years ago!” “You spent over a decade being their glorified dog, and this is all you get in a divorce? Buddy, I really don’t think you got what you deserved.” More than a decade. In my past life, Greene Corp, under my management, had topped the national charts as the most powerful enterprise. Yet, in my old age, I couldn’t even afford a box of painkillers. I was eventually thrown out by Liam’s “dutiful” children, dying of illness beside a dumpster on a winter night. The business empire I’d built with my life’s effort had all become a wedding dress for Liam and his offspring. The thought made me drain my glass. The sharp, burning liquid scorched my throat, but it ignited a furious fire in my heart. Let them all see. Let them see if they can thrive without Alexander Jupp.

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Lately, something has been seriously bothering me. My freshly washed underwear always had a strange smell. I told my roommates, “Do you think a pervert got into our dorm?” But my roommates said I was overthinking it. One of them even spread rumors that I was promiscuous and had caught a dirty disease. I was furious, and I made a decision. I secretly coated my underwear with ghost pepper sauce. That night, screams echoed through the room. 1 I think I’m being targeted by a pervert. The underwear hanging on the balcony always has a weird smell. It started half a month ago. I was collecting my laundry from the balcony as usual. As soon as I took down a pair of panties, a fishy stench hit my nose. It smelled like rotting fish that had been left out for days. “Ugh—” I gagged, nearly throwing the clothes in my hand. Fighting back the nausea, I brought the underwear closer to inspect. Besides the smell, there were some yellowish stains. I didn’t think much of it at the time. It had been raining lately. Maybe they fell on the floor and got dirty. Until three days later. I smelled the same odor on another freshly washed pair. This time, it was stronger. I immediately asked my roommates. They shook their heads and said they hadn’t touched my stuff. To figure out where the smell was coming from, I went for a full medical checkup. The doctor told me everything was normal. Then, I switched underwear brands. But it was strange. As long as the underwear hung on the balcony overnight, there was a high chance it would have that smell. I realized a terrifying fact. The problem wasn’t the underwear. It was the balcony! A pervert might have gotten into our dorm! 2 I rushed to tell my roommates about this discovery. “A pervert might be targeting our dorm. Recently, my underwear always…” Before I could finish, Sarah cut me off impatiently. “Lily, you should see a therapist. Last time you said we touched your underwear, now you’re making up a pervert. What? Does your underwear have a special magnet for perverts?” She suddenly covered her mouth. “Do you… have that kind of disease? I heard some dirty diseases have a weird smell…” As soon as she said that, the other two roommates leaned back in unison. As if I were a virus. I was shaking with anger. “Sarah, did you brush your teeth with a toilet brush this morning? Your mouth stinks.” “Oh, hit a nerve?” Sarah flipped her newly permed hair, smiling maliciously. “Wearing those sl***y panties all day, who knows who you’re showing them to? We’re decent people. If you’re dirty, don’t drag us down.” As soon as she said this, the others shrank back again. The dorm leader, Emily, hesitated and said, “Lily, maybe you should move out first? My mom said that kind of disease can be transmitted through clothing contact…” Seeing someone agree, Sarah became even more smug. She picked up a bottle of disinfectant from the table. “Here, let me help you disinfect!” The pungent liquid splashed onto my face. Soaking me. Amidst the screams of my roommates, I grabbed Sarah by her hair and dragged her to the bathroom. “Lily, let go of me! Are you crazy?” Sarah’s screams echoed in the dorm. I ignored her, turning on the faucet with one hand. I aimed the showerhead at her face. “Returning the favor. Let me help you wash that filthy mouth.” I sneered, adjusting the water flow. “And wash away the water in your brain while I’m at it.” “Help… glub… me!” Emily wanted to come forward to stop me. But was frozen in place by my glare. “Do you want a wash too?” I didn’t let go until Sarah’s hair was plastered to her face and mascara created two black rivers under her eyes. She slumped on the floor, crying. “Boo hoo…” 3 I had just cleaned myself up. The smell of disinfectant hadn’t even dissipated when my phone vibrated. It was a text from our advisor, Mr. Lee. [Lily, come to my office immediately.] I looked up and met Sarah’s triumphant gaze. Her lips were curled high, phone in hand. Obviously, she had just snitched. Unbelievable! She splashed me first, couldn’t win the fight, so she went to tell on me? I sneered, grabbed my jacket, and walked out. Sarah added sarcastically behind me, “Someone better not cry later~” I pushed open the office door. As soon as Mr. Lee saw me, his face darkened, his voice sharp and piercing. “Lily, you’ve got some nerve! Daring to beat up a classmate in the dorm?” I took a deep breath. Trying to keep my voice calm. “Mr. Lee, Sarah started it. She threw disinfectant on me.” “Ha!” He scoffed, eyes full of contempt. “Sarah is a scholarship student, an excellent student. Would she do such a thing?” “Look at you, built like an ox. Could she have started it? If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable!” Being strong is a sin? I gritted my teeth. “Mr. Lee, you’re judging a book by its cover.” “Don’t give me that attitude!” He slammed the desk. “Sarah told me everything. You love to stir up trouble in the dorm. Write a 5,000-word apology letter immediately and apologize to Sarah publicly tomorrow, or I’ll give you a major demerit!” I laughed in anger. “Mr. Lee, is this how you act as a teacher?” His face turned ashen. “You dare question me? Fine, I was going to save you some face, but it seems unnecessary!” “Sarah told me all about your nasty business. A girl like you, how can you be so shameless…” I interrupted him. “Does Dean Zhang know about this?” Mr. Lee froze, his face even uglier. “Don’t… don’t use the Dean to pressure me! I’m telling you, not even God can save you!” I took out my phone and dialed Dean Zhang’s number right in front of him. Mr. Lee’s face changed colors. Finally, he squeezed out a twisted smile. “Act, keep acting! I’ve been teaching for twenty years, and I’ve never seen a student as fake as you!” “Likewise.” I smiled. “It’s also my first time seeing such a ‘fair’ teacher like you.” “You!” His fingers trembled with rage. Just then, a cold automated voice came from the phone. [Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable…] Mr. Lee grinned triumphantly. “Dean Zhang went to the provincial capital for a meeting, the whole department knows!” He shook his head smugly. “What? Were you going to say Dean Zhang is your dad?” “Dean Zhang isn’t my dad.” I put away my phone. “But he certainly wants to be a son to my dad.” Mr. Lee’s expression stiffened. He didn’t seem to understand what I meant. I couldn’t be bothered to explain. I looked down and sent a text to my dad. [Dad, hold off on that donation to the school.] After sending it, I turned and left. Mr. Lee’s roar came from behind. “Lily! What is this attitude?! 50,000-word apology! If you don’t finish it, don’t think about graduating! Bring your parents to school tomorrow!!” Psycho! I rolled my eyes internally. I slammed the door without looking back. 4 As soon as I reached the dorm door, I heard Sarah’s triumphant voice. “Mr. Lee just texted me. Lily is definitely getting a demerit this time! Maybe even expelled.” “Sarah, you have such a good relationship with Mr. Lee…” Emily’s voice lowered. “Um… about that grad school recommendation I mentioned…” “Oh, don’t worry. Isn’t that just a matter of a few words?” So that’s it! Last semester, my GPA was 0.3 points higher than Sarah’s, yet the scholarship went to her. I won first place in the speech contest, but she represented the school in the competition. The things I didn’t understand before. Now they all had an explanation. But right now, I had more important things to do. I had to find that pervert quickly. I’ve had enough of wearing disposable underwear every day! I opened a shopping app. An item suddenly caught my eye. [Colorless, Odorless Concentrated Capsaicin, Home Defense Essential!] I clicked on the details page. The description read boldly: [Extracted from Indian Ghost Peppers, effective in 10 seconds, lasts for 48 hours!] This looks promising. I opened the chat with customer service. [Are you sure it’s spicy enough?] Customer service replied instantly. [Rest assured, dear~ Our capsaicin purity is up to 99%~ It can make an elephant cry!] Perfect. I placed the order immediately. In the notes section, I wrote in bold: [Urgent! Must be discreet packaging!]

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I have three childhood best friends. I was the only girl in our group of four. My family’s fortune had collapsed, and the elders were scrambling for a lifeline. Their brilliant plan? Marry me off to one of the boys. But Jace, the resident bad boy, swept a disgusted look over me and sneered, “No way. I like girls who are actually feminine. She’s just a bro to me.” Liam, the puppy-dog playboy, threw his hands up in mock regret. “Same here. I only see her as a big sister.” Ethan, the genius academic, was the coldest of them all. “She’s rash and dim-witted. She isn’t fit to be my wife.” Refusals, insults, humiliation. They threw them out without a second thought. My parents could only sit there, smiling awkwardly, swallowing their pride. That was the moment my heart finally went cold. So, I looked at my parents and said, “Mom, Dad, I already have a boyfriend.” Chapter 1 Jace sat with his sleeves rolled up, one arm draped lazily over the back of his chair, manspreading like he owned the place. He was joking around with Liam. Ethan, meanwhile, was staring at his phone. His long fingers swiped across the screen with indifference, the light reflecting off his glasses making him look detached and unapproachable. They were completely ignoring my parents’ desperate attempts to smooth things over. Until I dropped that single sentence. The private dining room went dead silent. Jace and Liam snapped their heads toward me in unison. Ethan finally looked up, his gaze sharp and meaningful. I pretended not to notice. I turned to my stunned parents. “You should have told me about this arranged marriage idea earlier. We could have avoided this whole embarrassing misunderstanding.” “They’re right,” I continued, my voice steady. “We grew up together, sure, but I only see them as brothers. There’s absolutely nothing romantic between us.” My parents hadn’t told me this was a setup. They were afraid I’d be too proud to come. They had carefully chosen Liam—he was two years younger than me, clingy, and we rarely fought. They thought he was the safe bet. I don’t know why the other two showed up. I was angry at my parents for blindsiding me, but mostly, I just felt a crushing ache in my chest. Back when my family still had money, my mom once asked if I liked anyone. I had looked away, refusing to answer. Mom knew immediately. She asked, with a knowing smile, if it was one of the three boys. I turned bright red and shouted at her to stop talking. She took that as a yes. But after that, I locked my feelings down tight. Even they couldn’t guess which one I actually loved. Then my dad’s investments tanked. The Sterling family fell from grace. The other three families—the “Old Money”—started distancing themselves. Mom thought that if she didn’t fight for me, given my stubborn pride, I’d never confess. So she took a risk and set up this dinner. She just didn’t expect the boys I grew up with to trample her daughter’s dignity so thoroughly. I was used to their mockery. But seeing the strained, plastic smiles on my parents’ faces, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by a vice. I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up, scanned the table with cold eyes, and said, “It doesn’t look like you guys want to eat anyway.” “Since that’s the case, let’s just call it a night.” Chapter 2 My parents went to get the car. I was about to follow when a hand grabbed my arm from behind. I spun around to face Jace. He looked pissed. He was wearing a white dress shirt unbuttoned to reveal a black tee underneath, showing off two new diamond dermal piercings on his collarbone. Trendy, wild, unrestrained. Just like him. He loomed over me, a sarcastic smirk playing on his lips. “Been a while. Your temper’s gotten worse, hasn’t it?” “I thought you took a leave of absence from school. Where’d you find this boyfriend?” “How old is he? Is he hot? Do I know him?” The questions were rapid-fire, aggressive. It sounded like concern. But I knew better. If I answered, he’d just blink those pretty eyes and tear me down, telling me I wasn’t good enough for whoever it was. It had happened too many times. I yanked my arm away, my voice rising uncontrollably. “It’s none of your business!” Jace stared at his empty hand, stunned. The smirk vanished. He frowned, his irritation growing. Liam popped out from behind Jace. He grinned, showing his canines. “Whoa, why the big reaction?” He used that sweet, boyish voice he knew people loved. It made him seem harmless. But his words were poison. “Does our Chloe really have a wild man on the side?” “Wow. Aren’t the three of us enough for you?” His grin widened as he dropped his voice. “Slutty.” Liam loved to joke that the three of them were my “harem.” As if I held some high status. As if I was the queen bee. But in our little quartet, I was the desperate one trying to fit in. I used to lie to myself. I told myself their pranks and insults were just “guy things.” They defended me from outsiders, right? We grew up together. I had to be special to them. Until that incident. That was when I realized I was just a toy to them. A clown for their amusement. I met Liam’s gaze. He was waiting for me to flinch at the insult. I stared at him blankly for a few seconds, then turned and walked away. A few steps later, a colder voice stopped me. “When are you coming back to class?” I paused but didn’t look back. It was a normal question, so I gave a normal answer. “Couple of days.” I heard Liam click his tongue in annoyance. He spoke loudly on purpose, ensuring I heard him. “Of course. She only answers him.” “But seriously,” Liam sneered, “you guys broke up ages ago. Chloe, why the special treatment?” Funny, isn’t it? Of the three, Ethan was the one who hated the idea of marrying me the most. He called me stupid. Said I wasn’t fit to be his wife. But he was the one I had actually dated. Ethan was the one who confessed to me first. Chapter 3 Unlike the generational wealth of Jace, Liam, and Ethan’s families, the Sterlings were “New Money.” My dad caught a lucky break in the tech boom and rocketed into their social circle. But behind our backs, people whispered. They called us lottery winners. Trash with cash. They said we didn’t belong. When I was little, I wanted to fight them. My dad stopped me. He told me that if we wanted to stay at the top, I had to make friends with those three boys. So, I swallowed my pride. I became the tomboy, the sidekick, the girl who laughed off every insult. I followed them from elementary school to college. I forced them to accept me. Even if my motives started out impure, after all those years, I genuinely loved them as my best friends. Then my dad’s stocks crashed. The boys started freezing me out. I finally understood that we were never equals. This time, I didn’t beg for their attention. I went to school, kept my head down, and tried to adjust to life without them. Then, I got kidnapped. It was a group of acquaintances—guys I partied with—who cornered me. They needed drug money. I recognized them. I thought it was a prank. I even laughed and offered to lend them cash. But when they demanded a ransom my family couldn’t possibly pay, I realized they were serious. They took everything valuable I had. Locked me in a warehouse for two days without water. When I heard them debating whether to sell me to human traffickers because they were too scared to call my parents, I felt a hysterical urge to laugh. It was like watching toddlers holding real guns. Absurd, but deadly. The laughter died when they stripped me naked to take photos for the “buyers.” I curled into a ball, screaming, threatening them. But they saw my fear. One guy, Kyle, used to be my friend. He crouched down, sighing while his hands roamed over me. “Chloe, forgive me. I actually really liked you. I didn’t want to do this…” I bit his finger. I bit down so hard I almost severed it. Chaos erupted. They swarmed me. And then— The warehouse door crashed open. A beam of sunlight cut through the darkness, blinding me. A tall silhouette stood in the light. It was Ethan. Chapter 4 After the rescue, I didn’t leave the house for weeks. The betrayal by friends, the kidnapping, the humiliating photos—it broke me. My mind was fragile, teetering on the edge. During that time, Ethan—cold, aloof Ethan—never left my side. I had never seen him so gentle. He seemed to sense my crumbling mental state. He filled the silence with conversation. I stayed in his private penthouse. He handled my leave of absence from the university. He hid everything from my parents so they wouldn’t worry. He used his connections to punish Kyle and the others quietly. He even managed Jace and Liam, keeping them away so no one would disturb my recovery. He was my shield. His maturity and reliability made me open up, made me depend on him. Finally, I couldn’t help it. I asked him, trembling, “Why… why are you being so good to me?” I remember the scene perfectly. Ethan was wearing casual loungewear, sitting next to me on the rug. He had rolled up his sleeves, revealing pale but strong forearms, twirling a fountain pen in his fingers. Without his glasses, his eyes were soft. He didn’t answer directly. Instead, he smiled and asked, “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” I fell. Hard. Under his care, I healed. I became happy again. Looking back, it feels like a fever dream. Ethan seemed passive, but he was dominant to the core. When we were dating, Jace stopped touching me. Liam stopped the dirty jokes. If I frowned, Ethan fixed the problem immediately. I was so happy I was planning our wedding in my head. But it was an act. It was all fake. I’ll never forget that day. I had spent hours cooking for the first time. My hands were covered in small cuts. I made a gourmet meal, eighteen dishes, just because Ethan said he wanted a home-cooked birthday dinner. The doorbell rang. I opened it, expecting praise. Instead, I got laughter. Cruel, raucous laughter. Liam was clutching his stomach, doubling over. Jace was whistling, recording me with his phone—me in an apron, holding a spatula, looking like an idiot. And Ethan. He was leaning against the doorframe, a faint smile on his lips, watching the scene like a player who had just won the game. “I never thought our arrogant Princess Chloe had a domestic side,” Jace jeered. “Hahaha…” “Good thing the bet was only for a month. Any longer, and she’d be trying to have your babies, Ethan!” “Ha! Interesting. My turn next, right?” Jace paused after saying that. He looked at me. Then he shrugged, turning away indifferently. “Oops, she heard me. Guess I’ll have to come up with a new game next time.”

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To coax my feverish son, Leo, to take his medicine, I started humming a lullaby. But halfway through, his little face scrunched up in disgust. He swatted the bowl from my hand. “Mommy, you sing terribly,” he whined. “I want Daddy to sing.” Shards of porcelain scraped the back of my hand, drawing pinpricks of blood. “Don’t be difficult,” I scolded gently, picking up the pieces. “Your dad? He doesn’t know any lullabies.” Leo let out a sleepy yawn. “He does too!” he mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut. “When he sings to Miss Nina while she rests her head on his lap, it sounds way better than this.” My hand froze. 1 I stayed that way for a long time. So long that Leo had already drifted off to sleep in his bed. Finally, I moved, walking slowly to the balcony to stare into the night. It was Christmas Eve, and the world outside glittered with life, a tapestry of festive lights woven between the houses. When I turned back, my own home felt cavernously cold and empty. Just like every other night, Ethan wasn’t home yet. I hesitated for a moment before dialing his number. The ringtone droned on for what felt like an eternity, nearly forty seconds, before a clipped, impatient voice answered. “In a meeting. I’ll be late.” He hung up before I could even reply. But I’d heard it. The background noise wasn’t the quiet hum of a boardroom. It was a cacophony of chatter and laughter, a woman’s giggle cutting through it all. On an impulse I couldn’t explain, I went downstairs, got in my car, and drove straight to Leo’s preschool. The square across the street was alive with holiday cheer. It took me less than a second to find him. Ethan was dressed in a goofy Santa suit, striking ridiculous poses that made the woman sitting on the stone steps double over with laughter. He used the moment to slip a piece of candy into her hand, his voice warm. “Nina, Merry Christmas.” A sharp pain lanced through my chest. Last Christmas, I’d been bored at home. I’d tugged on his sleeve, trying to be playful. “Come on, just spend a little time with me. Can’t you leave work early?” I’d wheedled. “Just an hour? Half an hour? Even ten minutes would be enough!” He’d merely shot me a cold look and pulled his arm away. “It’s just one night, Chloe. Why are you being so childish?” My vision blurred. Across the square, they were still laughing and teasing each other, looking for all the world like a couple lost in the throes of new love. I knew her. Nina. Leo’s “Miss Nina.” At twenty, Ethan had fought our arranged marriage with everything he had. He’d knelt before his grandfather, begging to be punished, begging to marry her. In the end, the old man’s fury had triggered a heart attack. His dying wish, written into his will, was that Ethan honor the engagement. So Ethan had shut his mouth and locked away his heart. He cut off all contact with her and, as promised, he married me and we had a child. But now, a decade later, it was thirty-year-old Ethan who couldn’t forget Nina. Not me, his wife of ten years. In that instant, ten years of marriage and fifteen years of my own secret, unrequited love felt like a pathetic joke. I forced a bitter smile. If this marriage was something I had stolen, then it was time I gave it back. Taking a deep breath, I turned and drove home. The clock hands swept past midnight before Ethan finally walked through the door. I hadn’t turned on any lights. I was just a small shape curled up on the sofa in the dark. He looked at me in silence for a moment, not noticing the paleness of my face as he sat down beside me. “Can’t sleep without me?” he chuckled, pulling a small jewelry box from his pocket. “It’s the new piece from the holiday collection. Want to try it on?” My lips tightened. “Christmas is over, Ethan,” I told him, my voice flat. “And so is my love for you.” His expression darkened, the faint glimmer of amusement vanishing from his eyes. He tossed the box into the nearby trash can. “Chloe, you’re crossing a line.” As he turned to leave, the air he stirred carried a cloying, fruity sweetness that made my stomach turn. I stopped him as he headed for his study. My voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” That way, I’ll never have to cross a line again. 2 Ethan froze mid-stride. He turned his head, his brow furrowed. “All because I was late for one stupid holiday?” I was silent for a moment, then shook my head. “It’s more than that.” To be honest, the word “divorce” had startled me as much as it had him. From the time I was a little girl, my mother had drilled it into my head that I was destined to be Ethan’s wife. I had chased after him for years. I’d been hurt, I’d been exhausted, I’d cried, but I had never once thought of giving up. And yet, the word had slipped out so easily. Ethan’s face was a blank mask, his gaze chilling me to the bone. “If you’re going to throw a tantrum, Chloe, at least pick a better time. I’m busy. I don’t have time for these childish games.” I didn’t expect him to believe me. It didn’t matter. I didn’t argue. He’d know I was serious soon enough, when a lawyer presented him with the divorce agreement and a detailed division of our assets. I changed the subject, my tone deceptively casual. “Nina got a divorce, did you know? I hear she’s teaching at Leo’s preschool now.” Ethan’s eyes dropped. “I didn’t know,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “And I don’t care.” How could he not care? I stared at the headlines on my phone, my fingers gripping the screen until my knuckles turned white. “CEO’s Fiery Defense of Childhood Sweetheart.” “A Love That Transcends Class.” He had helped her with the divorce. He had personally carried her to his car. And he had carefully chosen a job for her, placing her right under his nose. I shoved the phone in his face, my voice trembling. “This is you ‘not caring’?” I demanded. “Wasn’t that you, the great CEO, playing Santa in the snow to make her smile?” Ethan barely glanced at it, not even giving me a proper look. “Her ex was a monster. Abusive. I brought Nina back because I couldn’t stand by and watch. I’d do the same for anyone.” He sighed, as if explaining something to a difficult child. “Christmas is her birthday, and she’s been depressed. I was just trying to cheer her up. Chloe, can’t you have a little empathy? This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. You always overthink things.” It was all so reasonable. My limbs felt stiff, my chest so tight I could hardly breathe. I didn’t know what expression to make. Ethan paused, then let out a soft sigh, patting my shoulder. “Chloe, we’re married now.” The words were meant to be comforting, but they were laced with a quiet sorrow, a phantom limb of a love he’d lost in his youth. I understood his unspoken message. We’re married. What more could you possibly want? I shook his hand off, clinging to one last shred of hope. “Leo had a fever all night. Did you know?” He flinched. I knew it. He’d put me on Do Not Disturb again, never even seeing my messages. A bitter sting filled my nose. I was about to say more when a horrifying realization struck me. Leo. I’d wanted to name him Theodore, but Ethan had insisted on Leo. For her middle name. Leonora. Nina was just a nickname. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Even the child we had created was just another secret monument to his memory of her. I felt utterly defeated. I didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. Ethan looked uncertain, hesitantly reaching for me, but the sudden, sharp ring of the doorbell cut through the tension. A moment later, the door swung open. A frail figure peeked around the doorframe, her voice choked with tears. “Ethan… I have nowhere else to go.” 3 Nina’s sobs filled the room. The little rabbit keychain dangling from her hand was a perfect match to the one on Ethan’s keyring. Clearly, he’d brought her here before, shown her our home while I was away. Seeing her tears, Ethan’s composure shattered. He turned without a second thought to go to her. Bile rose in my throat. I fought back the nausea and grabbed the corner of his jacket. “Ethan, do you think I’m that much of a pushover?” I asked, my voice dangerously low. “Do you even consider this our home anymore? Leo is still sick…” My voice cracked. “If you let her in that door, we are really, truly done.” His eyes, red-rimmed and desperate, met mine. He paused, his hand covering mine on his jacket. Then, slowly and deliberately, he pried my fingers off, one by one. “This doesn’t concern you, Chloe. Just do your job and be my wife.” He pulled away and rushed to Nina’s side, his voice dripping with concern. “What happened? Who hurt you?” Nina buried her face in his chest, her muffled sobs telling a story only he could hear. Ethan’s brow furrowed in anger. He held her, murmuring reassurances until she quieted down, finally sparing me a glance. “Nina’s ex-husband followed her here. She’s alone and terrified he’ll harass or hurt her, so she came to me for help,” he explained, his tone accusatory. “Don’t be so cruel, Chloe. Go clear out the master bedroom. You can sleep with Leo tonight. Nina needs to rest.” My fingers clenched into fists. I stared at him, my jaw tight. “She needs to rest? What about Leo? Isn’t he your son? You want him to sleep poorly while he’s sick?” Just then, the door to the spare bedroom opened. Leo stood there, his face stormy with irritation. He glared at me, his voice sharp. “Mommy, you’re so loud! Can’t a person get some sleep?” I froze, stunned into silence. My first instinct was still to worry about his fever, to soften my voice and coax him back to bed. But then Leo’s eyes landed on Nina, who was trembling behind Ethan. I tried to block his view, but he pushed my hand away and ran straight to her, tugging on her arm like a puppy. “Miss Nina? What are you doing here? Did you miss me?” He looked up at her tear-streaked face. “Are your eyes red because my mommy was being mean and scared you?” Nina knelt, gently stroking his hair, her lips curving into a soft, sad smile. “No, sweetie, your mommy is a very nice person… The teacher was just followed by a bad man, her ex-husband. For a little while, I might not have a home.” Leo’s face lit up with purpose. He took her hand and puffed out his chest. “Don’t be scared, Miss Nina, I’ll protect you! When I grow up, I’ll marry you, and then you’ll never have to worry about not having a home again!” Nina blinked, then burst into a genuine, delighted laugh. “You little charmer. I wonder where you get your taste in women.” Her eyes flickered meaningfully toward Ethan. The hardness in Ethan’s face softened. He playfully tapped Leo’s forehead. “Get back to bed. You think Nina needs your help?” “No! I want to sleep with Miss Nina…” The warm, yellow light of the living room cast a soft glow on the three of them. Bathed in the light, they looked like a perfect, happy family. And I was the intruder. I let out a quiet laugh—I wasn’t sure if it was from pain or self-mockery. Without another word, I went and packed a small bag. As I walked to the door, I looked back at Ethan with considerate calm. “It’s okay if the house is a little crowded.” “I’ll just stay somewhere else.” Ethan’s movement stuttered. He took two steps toward me before Nina grabbed his arm. “Ethan, Leo said he’s sleepy. Why don’t we get him to bed first?” He stopped. He glanced at my back, then down at Nina’s pleading eyes, and his resolve crumbled. He gently pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright. Let’s get our two little troublemakers to sleep.” He hesitated for a second, then tossed a black credit card onto the floor near my feet. “If you insist on making a scene, then get out and cool off for a few days. When you’re done with your tantrum, I’ll come get you.” I bit down on my lip, hard. I didn’t turn around. I just walked out and slammed the door behind me. Then I pulled out my phone and called the number that had been sitting in my block list for years. “If I said I regret it now,” I asked, “is the offer still on the table?” On the other end, a man chuckled, a lazy, carefree sound, but his voice held a new weight when he spoke. “I’m still single. Of course it is.” 4 It took my lawyer a week to draft the divorce papers and divide our marital assets based on the evidence I provided. During that time, Ethan didn’t call. He didn’t come to get me. But I heard all about him. He made high-profile appearances at the preschool, joining Nina for parent-child activities. After school, photos surfaced of him wrapping both of them in his oversized coat, shielding them from the wind and snow. Even though I’d braced myself, my heart still ached with a familiar bitterness. I was always cold. One winter, years ago, I’d playfully slipped my hand into his coat pocket. “Let me borrow some of your warmth?” Without a second thought, he’d pulled my hand out. “I’ll have my assistant buy you a hand warmer.” I’d thought he was just shy, uncomfortable with public displays of affection. Now I knew the truth. It was never about shyness. It was just a lack of love. His recent public appearances were a calculated move, successfully capturing the media’s attention. Headlines like “Trouble in Paradise for Shen Corp CEO?” and “Ethan Shen Rekindles Old Flame” dominated the news cycle for days. The comment sections were a storm of speculation: [Isn’t she the girl he wanted to marry ten years ago, before the arranged marriage?] [They were always meant to be together.] [The one who isn’t loved is the third wheel. If his wife hadn’t forced her way in, none of this would have happened.] [He looks so happy with the girl he really loves. They look like a perfect family.] In the past, whenever rumors of marital trouble had surfaced, Ethan had crushed them before they even went to print. One nosy reporter was run out of the city overnight, never to be seen in journalism again. The family name was everything. Which meant that now, every one of these articles, every one of these comments, had his tacit approval. He was choosing to direct the narrative, to paint me as the villain, to ensure the woman he cherished wouldn’t suffer a single whisper of criticism. I took a deep, steadying breath. It didn’t matter. This sham of a marriage was finally ending. I went straight to his office. His assistant tried to block my way, head bowed. “Ma’am, Mr. Shen is busy. And you don’t have an appointment…” I just stared at him. He held his ground, sweating. Just then, Nina emerged from the office, carrying an empty lunchbox. She gave me an apologetic smile, but I could see the triumphant glint in her eyes. “Chloe. Ethan is a little tied up right now.” I ignored her, pushed past, and threw the divorce agreement onto Ethan’s desk. “The property’s divided,” I said coolly. “You get the kid. If there are no issues, sign it.” Ethan turned his head. The words “Divorce Agreement” seemed to burn on the page. His brow furrowed. “Are you still angry about this? I’m not signing it. Get it out of here.” Beside me, I saw Nina’s hand clench, her knuckles white. An unsettling silence filled the room. Ethan stared at me, his frown deepening. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a sudden commotion outside. “Who the hell is that?” “Somebody stop that lunatic!” A brutish man stormed into the office, lunged at Nina, and slapped her hard across the face, twice. “You little tramp!” he roared. “Thought you could run off? I give you everything, and you throw yourself at another man to be his mistress! You filthy…” After striking her, he turned to me with a sickeningly sweet smile and a nod. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Shen. I’ll take her home right now and teach her some manners.” I was stunned. Ethan’s face went dark with rage. He glared at me, a vein throbbing in his forehead. “You hired this scum to attack her? You hate her that much?” His voice was a low growl. “Chloe, you’re a woman too. Are you trying to drive Nina to her death?” I clutched the sleeve of my coat, my face draining of color. “Is that really what you think of me?” Ten years. I thought if there wasn’t love, there would at least be a basic foundation of trust. “Shut up!” he roared, his eyes bloodshot. “Chloe… you make me sick.” He snatched a pen, furiously scribbled his name on the papers, and threw the agreement at my feet. I bent down, calmly picked it up, turned around, and walked away without a backward glance. Ethan sat frozen in his chair, his chest heaving, his lips trembling. His eyes darted around the room in frustration. On the corner of his desk lay a single, snapped red thread. His pupils contracted. He shot up from his chair, ready to chase me, but just then, Leo came running in from school. “Daddy, did you get a new car?” Ethan paused, confused. “…No.” “Oh. But I just saw Mommy get into a wicked-cool red supercar.”

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The news hit like a physical blow: my little brother, barely a freshman in college, had been sold to a cartel-run scam compound by his girlfriend for ten thousand dollars. The shock sent my parents into a dead faint. By the time I rushed home from my surgical residency, my mother was staring at her phone, a horrific video playing on the screen. It was my brother, Leo. Only nineteen, and he was beaten black and blue, his body a canvas of bruises. He was already deaf. His girlfriend, Rina, clutched at my sleeve, her face streaked with tears as she pleaded with me. “Ava, what are we going to do?” she sobbed. “They want fifty thousand dollars to let him go! You have to save him, please!” I scoffed, shoving her hand away with disgust. “My brother has been hitting our parents up for cash ever since he met you. This is just another one of your scams to milk us for money, isn’t it?” I leveled a cold gaze at her. “I’ll get the money. But I’m going myself.” 1 Rina crumpled to the floor, her sobs echoing through the room. “Ava, he’s really been taken! You have to save him! You can’t just walk into a place like that!” I ignored her, helping my parents, who were still pale and trembling, to the couch. “Like I said, I’ll bring the money,” I repeated, my voice flat. “But I have to see him with my own eyes.” It was the only way to ensure they wouldn’t torture him to death. They wanted money, after all. Keeping him alive was their only leverage. Rina’s eyes darted around for a moment before she feigned resignation. “Okay… then I’ll take you. But you have to promise you’ll get Leo out!” A cold, bitter laugh rose in my throat. Oh, I’ll get him out. And I’ll make sure you go in. I withdrew fifty thousand dollars in cash from the bank, packing it into a hard-shell briefcase as Rina watched my every move. She thought she was hiding her triumphant smirk, but I saw it clear as day. Go ahead and smile, I thought. Smile while you still can. The moment our plane touched down in the lawless border region, Rina’s patience evaporated. She shot me dirty looks, her frustration palpable. She had wanted to book a direct flight, but I’d insisted we follow the exact travel itinerary she and Leo had taken on their “vacation,” claiming it might reveal clues. In reality, I just wanted to watch her squirm. Throughout the journey, her eyes were glued to the briefcase, practically burning a hole through the metal. I could tell she was itching to knock me out and run with the cash. But she didn’t dare. She needed to deliver me to the compound first and let her people handle me. After three grueling days of travel, we finally arrived. The second I stepped through the gates of the compound, a dozen burly men swarmed around me. Their leader, a brute with a jagged scar bisecting his face, sneered at Rina. “This is the ‘prime cut’ you promised to bring us? Just some skinny broad?” So, they were in on it together. Just as I suspected. Before Rina could answer, a blood-curdling scream echoed from deeper within the compound. It was followed by a chorus of agonizing cries, and among them, I recognized Leo’s voice. My eyes locked onto Rina. “Let my brother go,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “And the money is yours.” Rina waved a dismissive hand, and a few moments later, two men dragged out a figure so broken he couldn’t even walk. The man they threw at my feet was barely human. His face was a swollen, bloody mess. He pried open a single, slit-like eye and stared at me. A few seconds later, a tear of blood trickled down his cheek. “Ava…” My heart stopped. It was really him. This mangled thing, this creature that could hardly be called a person… was this really Leo? The little brother I adored? His right leg was bent outwards at a sickening, unnatural angle. His left hand was a mangled pulp of flesh and bone, two fingers completely gone. Blood oozed from every feature on his face. I tried to speak to him, but his eyes were filled with a distant haze. He raised his mangled left hand—the one with only three fingers remaining—and shook his head, pointing to his ears. “Ava… I can’t hear…” his voice was a raw, broken whisper. Tears welled in my eyes as I reached out to touch his face. He winced in pain but leaned into my hand, a ghost of his old affection. “We’re going home,” I choked out. “I’m taking you home.” With that, I kicked the briefcase toward the scarred man. “Here’s your money. I’m taking him.” I tried to help Leo to his feet, but before I could turn, several thugs blocked our path. “Not so fast. Who said you could leave?” They roughly tore Leo from my grasp. Rina stepped forward, her sweet facade gone, replaced by a cruel smirk. She patted my cheek. “Ava, a pretty face like yours is a top-tier asset here. You’ll earn them way more than that useless piece of trash ever could!” Two men seized my arms. Nearby, another guard deliberately pressed down on Leo’s wounds, making him cry out in agony. The scarred man, Scar, opened the briefcase with a wicked grin. His face fell the instant he saw the contents. “What the hell? It’s all paper!” 2 The thugs crowded around the case. Sure enough, it was filled to the brim with worthless blank paper. The next thing I knew, a stinging slap sent my head reeling. “You bitch! You trying to screw me over? I’ll kill you both!” Scar grabbed me, ready to drag me into the main building. Leo, though he couldn’t hear, knew exactly what was happening. He thrashed wildly, trying to break free, earning him several more savage blows. I grabbed Scar’s wrist with one hand and made a quick sign to Leo with the other, telling him to stay calm. “You might want to think this through,” I said, my voice steady despite the ringing in my ears. “Your people had eyes on me the entire trip. She,” I said, nodding toward Rina, “watched me pack the cash herself.” I let my words hang in the air. “She never left my side. The only time that case was out of my sight was when I went to the restroom, and I always left it with her. If there was a switch, I’m not the one who made it.” Scar’s gaze shifted to Rina. She took a moment to process my words, then waved her hands frantically. “No way, Scar! I would never cheat you!” “The money was with her the whole time! I never touched it!” she shrieked. “Don’t you trust me? I’ve brought you so much prime stock! I’m loyal!” I feigned confusion. “That’s odd. You were watching me like a hawk. If I’d swapped the money, wouldn’t you have noticed?” I then pointed to Rina’s pocket. “Scar, my phone is in her pocket. She would know if I tried any tricks. But you know, my phone accidentally recorded a very interesting video. Maybe you should take a look.” Scar didn’t hesitate. He strode over, snatched my phone from Rina’s pocket, and found the video I mentioned. On the screen, Rina was shown furtively fiddling with the briefcase while I was in the restroom. Her eyes went wide with panic. “No! Ava, you set me up, you bitch!” she screamed, lunging for the phone. “You framed me! I’ll kill you!” She swung her hand, aiming for my face. A loud smack echoed through the yard. But it was Scar who had hit her, a backhand so vicious it sent her sprawling. “Damn you, I always knew there was something off about you!” he roared. “You dare steal from the Compound? You think you’re something special because you have a pretty face? Let me tell you something! Around here, I’m the one in charge!” He gestured to his men. “Take her and this one down to the Studio! Both of them!” The moment Rina heard the word “Studio,” she began to struggle and scream as if it were the most terrifying place on earth. It wasn’t until they threw me into a cell that I understood her fear. We were in a basement, a dark, damp space filled with strange, unsettling noises. The area was divided into cells fenced off with iron bars. But inside, each cell was a themed set—some cozy, some seductive, some garish. And every cell had a camera rig and a man. The other end of the cameras fed into the darkest corners of the internet. The men’s job was to manipulate the women in the cells, using props or their own bodies, all for a live audience on the dark web. Upstairs, the building echoed with the pained cries of men. Down here, it was the rising and falling screams of women. The louder they screamed, the more tips they earned, and the more excited the men in the cells became. Rina and I were shoved into two cells facing each other. Fortunately, mine didn’t have a camera rig yet. Her eyes burned with hatred as she gripped the bars. “Are you happy now that you’ve dragged me down with you?” I leaned against the bars of my own cell, crossing my arms and offering her a small, cold smile. “Happy? Oh, not yet.” 3 That night, they came for Rina. They forced her into a bizarre costume and set up the camera equipment in her cell. She tried to fight back at first, but they beat her into submission. Soon enough, she started cooperating with the man who was directing her performance. Four hours later, the live stream ended. Rina was tossed aside like a broken doll. Her voice was raw and hoarse, but she still managed to crawl to the bars and glare at me with venom in her eyes. “Why?” she croaked. “Why aren’t they coming for you?” I turned my head on the small cot to look at her, a broken, pathetic mess. I almost felt like laughing. “Take a guess.” Just then, a blond thug came down the hall, rapping his club against the iron bars. “Shut it! People are trying to sleep!” he snarled. “Looks like someone needs to be taught some manners!” Rina let out a spiteful laugh. “Heh, you really think you’re getting out of this? You’re next. You’ll be just as ruined as me!” The blond thug whistled as he unlocked my cell, his eyes meeting my icy stare. He scowled and swung the club, striking me hard in the side. “What are you looking at, bitch? You’ll be begging me not to stop soon enough!” He reached out to grab my hair. I let him pull me forward, using his own momentum as I tilted my head back and plunged the black hairpin I’d been holding deep into the side of his neck. Close-quarters combat. The basics. He gasped, clutching his throat, unable to make a sound. I kicked him into the corner of the cell. As he stared at me in terror, I took the club from his hand for protection. Across the way, Rina watched the whole thing, her jaw hanging open in disbelief. I gave her one last chilling look before stepping out of the cell and racing upstairs. I knew the layout of this place like the back of my hand; I had lived here for sixteen years. But it had been a long time, and my memory was a little hazy. Minutes later, a piercing alarm blared through the building. I could hear Rina’s shrill voice from downstairs. “She went that way! Get her! Hurry!” The sound of dozens of footsteps thundered through the halls. I ran frantically, searching for my brother. Where had they taken Leo? “Don’t worry,” a calm, menacing voice—Scar’s—cut through the chaos. “She won’t leave without her brother.” “You should just kill him already!” Rina shrieked. “Shut your mouth, you idiot,” Scar growled. “I’m warning you, if you don’t come up with that fifty grand, I’ll have you work it off in the Studio and then sell your organs to the highest bidder.” It sounded like he’d slapped her and then grabbed her by the throat. I moved from cell to cell on the upper floors, but there was no sign of Leo. Before I knew it, I had reached the top floor. “Boss, she’s headed for the top! What do we do?” a thug yelled from below. “Relax. The man upstairs will handle her.” The top floor was pitch black and eerily silent, a stark contrast to the chaos below. As my foot touched the last step, I heard a faint click. I instantly pulled my foot back as a volley of arrows shot out from the walls. I dodged and rolled, but one of them pierced my left arm. I grunted in pain, clutching the wound. As a surgeon, I knew better than to pull it out. Stumbling, I relied on memory to find the last room at the end of the hall. I pushed the door open. It was an office, the layout just as I remembered it, but with a few minor changes. A large executive chair sat with its back to the door. A cold, masculine voice drifted from behind it. “Someone actually made it this far? Are all my men dead?” I flinched. I knew that voice. “You’re hurt.” The chair slowly swiveled around. In a flash, I wrenched the arrow from my arm and pressed its bloody tip to the man’s throat. Blood spurted from my wound, but I didn’t have time to care. The man’s eyes widened as he saw my face. He reached up, his hand closing around my wrist. I narrowed my eyes, aiming the arrow at his carotid artery. “Don’t fight me. Come with me.” 4 The man I held captive was Kael, the absolute authority here. He was in his forties but looked like he was barely over thirty. In these lawless borderlands, everyone knew his name. I grabbed him by the collar with one hand and held the arrow to his throat with the other, forcing him downstairs. The concrete floor of the main hall was already swarming with his men, Scar at the forefront. “You bitch! Let our boss go, or I’ll kill your brother!” he yelled, his voice raw with fury. “He’s barely breathing as it is!” Scar dragged Leo out from behind the crowd. He looked even worse than before. I watched his chest, seeing the shallow rise and fall. He was fading. I tightened my grip on Kael’s throat and whispered in his ear. “You know what to do.” To my surprise, Kael just chuckled. He turned and spoke to Scar, his voice firm. “Let the boy go, Scar.” Rina, standing in the crowd, piped up, “I say we just kill him! Get rid of the problem! Once he’s gone, she’ll have nowhere to run!” How did she get out? She must be trying to capture me to earn her freedom from the Studio. Scar frowned, confused. “Boss, we have guns! There’s no way she’s faster than a bullet!” A smirk played on my lips as I pressed the arrow deeper into Kael’s neck. “Want to test that theory?” I said to Scar, my voice cold. “At this range, what do you think is faster? Your gun, or my hand?” Kael’s voice sharpened with annoyance. “Are you deaf? I said let the boy go! Can’t you see my life is in her hands?” His men hesitated, their eyes darting between me and Kael’s darkening expression. Reluctantly, they pushed Leo forward. But Leo couldn’t stand on his own. He collapsed to the ground in a heap. For a split second, my focus wavered. I reached out, wanting to catch him. Rina saw her chance. She lunged at me, screaming, “Kael! I’m here to save you!” I had just bent down when she was on me. I saw the glint of a knife in her hand, but it was too late. She was too close. Instinctively, I raised my arm to block, but Kael moved faster. He kicked out, sending Rina flying. She hit the ground hard, spitting up blood. Kael looked down at her, his eyes filled with contempt. “Do I need you to save me? Or do you just think I’ve gotten old?” She had gambled, hoping to win his favor. It was the same damsel-in-distress act she’d used to lure my brother, playing on her youth and beauty. But Kael wasn’t buying it. I helped Leo up, propping him against a wall. Scar immediately started to move forward with his men. Kael just raised a hand, and they froze. He looked at me, his expression softening. “What else do you want? Just ask.” I tore a strip from my sleeve, wrapping it tightly around the arrow wound in my arm and tying it with my teeth. My gaze fell on Rina, who was still kneeling on the ground. “I want her to kneel and bow ten times to my brother.” Then I looked at Scar and his men. “And I want them to slap each other a hundred times.” Scar’s eyes were wide with a mixture of terror and confusion. He wasn’t afraid of me. He just couldn’t understand why Kael, who was no longer my hostage, wasn’t letting them attack. But what terrified him more was the look in Kael’s eyes. In the four years he’d worked for him, he had never seen his boss look at anyone with such softness. Then, Kael smiled. It was a chilling, unsettling smile. Scar visibly relaxed. Kael always smiled before he killed someone. The smile lingered for a full ten seconds before it vanished. He looked at me. “My dear daughter,” he said. “Haven’t you had enough fun yet?”

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