Category: English

My words have always come true since birth. When I first learned to talk, I babbled that Dad was going to get rich, and that very night, he won a hundred million in the lottery. When I was six, I said the old man in town whose grandson went missing would have him returned safely. The next day, someone found the dirty child at the community entrance. At eighteen, I commented online that the bankrupt Sullivan Group would turn things around against all odds. Sure enough, half a month later, Sullivan Group’s stock soared back to its peak! And so, with just my words, I was treated as an honored guest by the Foster Group. But the moment I stepped into the Foster family’s villa, someone grabbed my collar from behind and slammed me hard onto the ground. “You homewrecker! Isn’t it enough that you’ve been clinging to Riley outside? You actually chased her all the way here? Desperate to climb your way up, aren’t you? I think you’re tired of living!” Falsely accused out of nowhere, I tried desperately to explain, but these people were convinced I was a social climber and beat me with fists and kicks. As my watch shattered against the stone steps with a crisp crack, I tasted the faint metallic tang of blood between my lips and teeth. No one knew that besides my words coming true, I also carried a curse–whoever made me bleed would be plagued with terrible luck. It seemed the Foster family was headed for complete ruin.

“Mr. Carter, please have a seat here. Damien is already on his way back from the company.” “He’ll be here soon.” The butler treated me with respect, smiling obsequiously. I waved my hand. “No need to be so formal.” My words have always come true since birth. Damien had been half-skeptical at first. Two years ago, he tested my ability. I said one sentence–that their stock would rise. That very evening, the stock skyrocketed. The Foster family, which had been teetering on the edge of collapse, managed to hang on for two more years thanks to that one sentence. From then on, Damien knew I was the person he’d been searching for. To get me to speak those golden words again, Damien pulled out all the stops. He even offered to add me to the Foster family trust’s beneficiary list, letting me enjoy the family’s privileges for life. Only then did I reluctantly agree. After the butler settled me in, she went to the kitchen to prepare some fruit. The other household staff treated me with utmost respect, their eyes full of reverence. I sat on the sofa, quietly waiting for Damien to return, when a stabbing pain shot through my temple. I frowned, turning just as a heavy decorative sculpture crashed into my head, instantly leaving it bloody. I clutched my forehead, seeing through the blood the twisted face of Kyle Anderson. The moment they saw me injured, the two household staff beside me panicked. “Mr. Carter is an honored guest invited by Damien Foster himself. Who are you?” Kyle ground his teeth. “Let’s see who dares touch me. I’m Riley Foster’s fiancé!” “You bastard, how dare you seduce Riley! You even followed her home!” His friends all looked at me with contempt. “Look at this pathetic loser. How could he even compare to Kyle?” “Anyone with working eyes knows who to choose.” “Sneaky bastard. We’re going to teach you a good lesson today.” They tore me down with every word. I frowned, my voice cold. “I’m not here to latch onto anyone. Stop spouting nonsense.” I turned to leave, but Kyle’s heavy fist slammed into my face. “Shameless trash! Don’t think I haven’t noticed you hovering around Riley all the time.” “You probably spend every day trying to get her attention, don’t you?” He lunged forward, his index finger nearly poking my face, his voice vicious. I suddenly remembered Riley Foster. To get me to speak those golden words for the Foster family, she came to see me every day, all smiles and sweet concern. I never expected Kyle Anderson to be her fiancé. The servants around me quickly reacted, surrounding me protectively and carefully trying to stop my bleeding. My voice was ice-cold. “Damien invited me here to help. I have nothing to do with your fiancée.” One of the staff members carefully spoke up for me. “Mr. Carter has the ability to make his words come true.” At those words, Kyle doubled over with laughter, laughing so hard tears came out. “You say your words come true? Then I guess I’m God himself.” “You’ve said so much–I don’t see anything coming true.” I sighed inwardly. Though I had the ability to make my words come true, it only worked effectively once a year. I wouldn’t use this ability lightly. Kyle sneered, hands in his pockets. “Do I look like some idiot who’d believe that?” “You dare to be a homewrecker with me, Kyle Anderson? I’ll make you pay.” His eyes fixed on me like a poisonous snake. The people around him stepped forward, looking at me mockingly. He was coming for me. I stepped back, my voice hoarse. “If you touch me, the Foster family won’t let you get away with this.” Kyle was the first to rush forward, grabbing my hair and slamming my head hard against the ground. “Little bastard, you really dare to talk.” “Brothers, get him! Teach this homewrecker a good lesson!”

I frowned as blood dripped from my forehead. I was truly angry now, looking at Kyle with cold eyes. “I’m a guest of the Foster family. What are you?” “Leave now, and I can pretend nothing happened.” Though he’d have some bad luck for a while. Seeing me completely dismiss him, Kyle finally lost control. His eyes bloodshot, he lunged at me, straddling me and beating me viciously. I was pinned to the ground with no strength to fight back. But as he came close, I opened my mouth and bit down hard on his ear. Kyle clutched his ear, glaring at me. His friends rushed over, pinning me firmly to the ground, each one punching me. My scalp burned with tearing pain as they yanked me backward, making me fall face-up onto the gravel path. I groaned. In front of me, pairs of men’s dress shoes formed an impenetrable circle. When a shoe tip kicked my ribs, I heard the fine crackling of bone. The first punch left my right ear ringing. “This is what you get for being a homewrecker! Shameless!” The second blow left my left cheek burning and swollen. “Trash! I hate people like you who mess with other people’s relationships! Disgusting!” By the third kick, I could taste rust in my mouth. “People like you don’t deserve to live in this world.” They took turns grabbing my collar and yanking it back, the fabric mixing with blood and sticking to my swollen cheek. Fists deliberately smashed into my eye corners, warm blood droplets rolling into my collar. They struck viciously. The two household staff nearby were terrified. I looked at them. “Call Damien now!” I gasped for breath, coldly warning Kyle. “Let me go right now, or I swear I’ll make you pay.” Kyle sneered, kicking me again and again. “You really think I don’t know anything?” “You’re just an ordinary person! Your words coming true? Bullshit!” “You just wanted to seduce Riley when I wasn’t paying attention. I’ve already seen through your plan.” He kicked my ribs with his shoe tip. As I curled up, my forehead hit the concrete edge, blood immediately covering my right eye. Finally, he grabbed the back of my neck and slammed it against the coffee table edge. The instant ceramic shards cut open my chin, blood dripped onto the floor. He sneered and kicked me hard in the abdomen. “Bastard!” I clutched my stomach, curling into a ball. “What are you doing?!” The butler finally emerged from the kitchen with a fruit platter. Seeing my wretched state, her pupils constricted sharply. She hurried over to help me up. “Mr. Carter is Damien’s honored guest! Damien specifically instructed us to treat him well!” “Who dared lay hands on Mr. Carter?” She turned around, meeting Kyle’s eyes. Kyle chuckled. “It was me.” “Kyle, what are you doing here?” Kyle looked at her, his voice cold. “What honored guest? He’s just an ordinary person.” “Let me tell you, I’m going to marry Riley Foster in the future.” The butler glanced at Kyle, then at me. Finally, she reluctantly let go of my hand. I couldn’t stand at all and fell back onto the ground. Kyle sneered, looking smug. “What ability to make words come true? I think it’s all a scam!” “Tell me, do his words really come true or not?” The butler’s eyes darted around before she walked over to Kyle. “Who knows if these supernatural abilities are real or fake?” My heart seized.

Kyle was very pleased with the butler’s flattery. I was bleeding all over, with no strength left to resist. I could barely breathe, let alone speak. Kyle grabbed my chin, his gaze falling on the watch on my wrist. Before I could cover the watch, he reached out and yanked it off my wrist. “Give it back!” My voice was shrill, completely ignoring the bloody marks torn on my wrist. This watch was the only thing my late mother left me. I clenched my back teeth. “Give it back!” I tried to get up and snatch the watch back. But the two people holding me beat me again. Kyle waved the watch in front of me. “This watch is so important to you?” “I can give it back. How about you kneel before me and beg?” “If I’m happy, I’ll return it.” My eyes turned blood-red, fists clenched tight, looking at him with pure hatred. Kyle looked indifferent, holding the watch with disgust. “Looks like you don’t care about this watch that much.” “In that case…” He held up the watch, about to throw it away. I released my broken, bleeding lips. “I’ll kneel!” After those words, all my strength seemed drained. He bent down, patting my face. “Didn’t expect you to be so sensible.” “If you’re going to kneel, do it quickly. Time waits for no one.” I looked at the watch in his hand, closed my eyes, and knelt down. Once I got my watch back, I would make him pay. I knelt on the ground, staring at him. “Give it back.” Kyle looked extremely smug. “You think I’ll give it back just because you ask?” “Let me tell you, this is what you get for trying to climb above your station.” With that, he threw the watch on the ground and immediately stomped on it hard. I watched helplessly as the watch face shattered into pieces, powerless to stop it. My voice was hoarse. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” Getting up from the ground, I rushed forward and grabbed his neck. “Crazy! He’s crazy!” Soon, I was dragged away by his people. I was filled with hatred, grinding my teeth. “Kyle Anderson, I won’t let you get away with this.” As soon as I spoke, they all burst into laughter. Kyle laughed so hard he nearly doubled over. “This is hilarious! Did I hear that right? You, an ordinary person, won’t let me get away with it?” “Oh, I’m so scared. I’d love to see how you won’t let me get away with it.” “Looks like you haven’t learned your lesson. In that case, teach him another good lesson.” A group of people rushed at me again. This time, I didn’t resist at all, just quietly curled up on the ground, letting their fists rain down on me. “Hahaha, look at him! Is he beaten stupid? He doesn’t even know how to fight back!” Kyle laughed until tears came out. I looked at the blood pooling on the ground, a smile curving my lips.

Seeing me smile, Kyle flew into a rage, roaring, “You bastard, what are you smiling at?” “Believe it or not, I’ll make sure you never smile again in your life!” My voice was soft, carrying a hint of chill, as I looked at him. “You’re about to be disfigured.” Hearing my words, Kyle’s eyes widened. His face turned darker than the bottom of a pot. “You bastard, how dare you curse me!” “I won’t let you get away with this.” He rolled up his sleeves, walking toward me. But in the next second, he fell to the ground. “Ah!” He screamed, hand clutching his face. “Kyle, your face!” His friends couldn’t help but speak up. Kyle pulled out his phone to look, screaming even louder. He covered the bleeding side of his face, glaring at me. My gaze fell on the broken glass that suddenly appeared on the ground, lips curving slightly. Kyle was furious. He rushed at me. “You crow’s mouth! Who told you to curse me!” “Since you have such a foul mouth, I’ll make sure you can never speak again.” My nails dug into my palms, voice hoarse. “You wouldn’t dare!” He raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I dare? I’m going to marry Riley in the future. You’re a powerless nobody. Why wouldn’t I dare touch you!” He signaled to the people around him. I was immediately restrained. He pulled a switchblade from his bag, walking toward me step by step. “Today, I’ll teach you a lesson about running that mouth of yours.” “Even if you stab through my throat, I’ll recover.” As those words left my mouth, a golden light flashed in my pupils. But it was too fast–no one noticed. He moved quickly, the blade aiming straight for my throat. The pain made my whole body struggle, but I couldn’t make a sound. Seeing me like this, Kyle was extremely pleased. “This is what trash deserves.” Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably. The pain in my throat made cold sweat pour from my body. My vision darkened. I felt like I couldn’t hold on much longer. The butler ran over to Kyle. “This is exactly how to deal with shameless people like him.” “Men like this who interfere with other people’s engagements deserve to be punished.” I bit my tongue, the metallic taste keeping me conscious. Kyle dusted off his hands, raising an eyebrow. “Right, such a disgusting man should have his legs broken. Let’s take him to the garage and teach him a proper lesson.” He looked at me like trash, disgust in his eyes. “Grab him.” As soon as he spoke, a voice came from behind. “Who are you people, and what are you doing at my Foster family’s doorstep?” “Adrian!” I heard Damien’s voice.

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At a friends’ gathering, my boyfriend’s female best friend grabbed my phone while I was in the bathroom. She announced to everyone: “Weren’t you all curious about what she writes in her phone notes? Let’s take a look right now!” Everyone crowded around: “It’s definitely about how pathetically she chased after Jason. Didn’t she have a crush on him for three years?” In an instant, all eyes turned to Jason Sinclair. He lounged lazily on the private room sofa, a satisfied smile on his face. “Jason, can I open it?” Jason didn’t stop her. So Sophia unlocked my notes and read the first page. “Today I finally ran into Jason. I confessed to him and he called me crazy.” Everyone burst into laughter. Then came the second page: “Jason finally agreed to be with me. I’m so happy.” … The last page: “Three years of being with Jason, and I still can’t see him as you.” 0 The words hung in the air, and the room fell silent. Jason’s face darkened as he snatched the phone away. No one dared speak. In the tense atmosphere, someone called out: “Victoria’s here.” Everyone turned to look at me with mocking eyes. I had witnessed everything from outside the door. My whole body felt cold. Jason seemed even angrier than me, his eyes filled with rage. Seeing me standing still, he got up and forcefully dragged me to the stairwell. “Victoria, what does that last line mean?” “Who is he?” The dim light shifted across Jason’s face, and I froze for a second. The face looked so similar. But no matter how similar, he still wasn’t him. Perhaps my gaze was too obvious. Jason grew even angrier and punched the wall behind me. “Who are you looking at through me?” I snapped back to reality and countered: “And what about you? You’re my boyfriend, yet you let another woman go through my private things?” Jason froze, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. Just then, Sophia came running out, playing the peacemaker: “Jason, how could Victoria possibly have someone else in her heart? She probably made someone up in her notes just to make you jealous.” “It’s all fake. Didn’t Victoria do plenty of crazy things to chase you before?” Perhaps remembering how I used to stop at nothing to pursue him, even using other men to provoke him. Jason finally calmed down, his face showing its usual hint of disdain. He stepped back from me, frowning: “Victoria, are you done with your games? Only you could come up with something this boring.” “You’re so annoying, always being so dramatic. Do I have to revolve around you twenty-four seven?” Sophia chimed in: “Victoria, don’t do this kind of thing again. I’m keeping an eye out for you—you’re the only woman by Jason’s side.” I scoffed. Wasn’t she a woman too? Then Sophia deliberately hooked her arm around Jason’s shoulder, saying casually: “Jason, let’s go back. The guys are waiting to party all night.” “Let Victoria cool off by herself. You can’t keep spoiling her.” Jason looked at her, an indulgent smile appearing on his face that even he wasn’t aware of. A bitter ache rose in my heart. Just like before, he would always indulge Sophia. Whatever she wanted, he would agree to. But with me, he was always harsh. When Sophia had cramps, one phone call could make him abandon me and rush to take care of her all night. When it was my turn, he would just say: “Drink some hot water. Everyone else deals with it. Just tough it out.” Despite being treated coldly by him countless times, I never felt wronged. As long as I could see that face, it was enough. Watching them playfully walk away together, my thoughts were interrupted by a message. I opened the screen. It was from a number I knew by heart. “I’m back.” 0

In the early morning, Jason came home completely drunk. He was draped all over Sophia, and even when she put him on the couch, his hands still clung to her tightly. “Sophia, you’re not allowed to say yes to that guy who’s pursuing you.” Sophia smiled provocatively: “Victoria, don’t overthink it. He’s just vetting guys for me.” It didn’t matter anymore. Over the years, men who got close to Sophia were always driven away by Jason in various ways. At first, I thought it was coincidence. Eventually, I couldn’t help but confront him. He would just snap at me irritably: “Sophia and I are just bros. Those guys chasing her are all no good. I’m just helping her deal with them. Is that a problem?” “You have a dirty mind, so everything looks dirty to you!” Pulling myself from the memories, I looked at Sophia and smiled calmly: “I know. I’m not overthinking.” Whether he was vetting guys or truly in love with her, it no longer had anything to do with me. A flash of surprise crossed Sophia’s face. She said awkwardly: “Well, I’ve delivered him. I’ll be going now.” She tugged her hand several times before freeing it from his grip. The winter night was freezing. Looking at Jason’s face, I couldn’t bring myself to leave him like that. I brought out a blanket and covered him. When I pulled the blanket up and accidentally touched his waist, he opened his eyes. Seeing it was me, he snapped: “Get away! Don’t touch me!” My hand paused. The next second, I calmly pulled the blanket off. “It was an accident. Didn’t mean anything by it.” With that, I took the blanket and went into the bedroom. Jason was stunned for a moment, wanting to say something, but ultimately stayed silent. The next morning, as soon as I arrived at work, I was informed that Sophia would be replacing me on the interview project with the top business executives. I was told to send her all the interview materials I had gathered. The project was almost complete—just one final interview left. Without even thinking, I knew Jason was behind this. A chill spread through my heart. He knew exactly how much effort I had put into this project, how many nights I’d spent working in the study. Yet he still let Sophia take my work. Just then, Jason walked in with Sophia. His first words were a warning: “Victoria, cut Sophia some slack. She finally found a project she likes.” “There are so many people at this company. Don’t make things hard for her. Just hand over the project materials.” He was afraid Sophia would feel awkward, so he personally came to smooth things over for her. Yet from work to our relationship, he never once considered my dignity. I couldn’t help but remember the past. Whenever I liked something, if Sophia wanted it too— Jason would give it to her. I had tried begging him not to always side with Sophia, to consider my feelings just once. But all I ever got was his cold response: “If you don’t want to break up, give it to her.” Every time I tried to fight for something, I ended up humiliated. Now, I didn’t want to fight anymore. I didn’t care who he sided with. Seeing me stay silent, Jason’s face darkened with anger. He lowered his voice threateningly: “Victoria, you’d better not make a scene… otherwise…” I smiled and cut him off, shoving the materials I had just organized into Sophia’s hands. “Here. It’s just a project.” Both of them were stunned. Jason grabbed my hand, his eyes dangerous as he stared at me. “What are you playing at?” “Victoria, are you upset? Is that why you’re saying this?” Sophia’s eyes reddened as if she was about to cry. Then she turned to leave. Jason panicked, grabbing her hand. “Sophia, I said it’s yours, so it’s yours.” I laughed coldly, seeing through Sophia’s act. “Sophia, can you drop the act?” “The project and Jason—I’m giving you both…” Before I could finish, Jason’s slap landed on my face. “Who said you could talk to Sophia like that!” My colleagues surrounded us. Jason didn’t care about my dignity. He only worried about upsetting Sophia. Time seemed to freeze. Seeing the red mark rising on my cheek, a flash of pain crossed Jason’s eyes. He stammered: “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to…” Sophia’s crying interrupted him. She said petulantly: “I don’t want it anymore.” Jason glanced at me, said nothing, and chased after Sophia out of the office. I ignored the mocking comments around me, rising one after another just like before. Five days. Just five more days and it would all be over. Everything they gave me today, I would return in full. 0

For three days straight, Jason didn’t come home. The old me would have sent countless messages begging him to come back. But now, I didn’t care where he went. I had just finished throwing away everything that belonged to me in the apartment when my mom called: “Victoria, your dad and I already made dinner plans with Jason’s parents tonight. Let’s discuss the wedding.” I wanted to refuse, but then I thought about it. Over the years, all four parents had invested so much effort into my relationship with Jason. Now that the story was ending, I owed them an explanation. So I agreed. Jason arrived half an hour late. I didn’t expect him to bring Sophia. Noticing my parents’ displeasure, Jason explained dismissively: “We once promised to witness each other’s happiest moments.” “So naturally, she has to be here for the wedding discussion.” Sophia added provocatively: “Yes, we’ve been best friends for so many years. Our bond is naturally special. Victoria, do you mind?” Jason’s gaze swept over me casually, as if waiting for my reaction. I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t refuse. I smiled and reassured my parents: “It’s fine. I don’t mind.” After hearing my response, Jason’s face darkened, and the glass in his hand slipped to the floor. Was he expecting me to throw a fit like before? But I used to care about him. Now, my feelings for him… had completely faded. The atmosphere was strange. Jason’s parents looked apologetic: “Victoria is a wonderful girl. Why don’t we set a wedding date? Whatever your family wants, we’ll agree to it.” My mom smiled: “This is Victoria’s decision to make.” All eyes turned to me. I stood up, and under Jason’s ambiguous smile, I spoke: “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to marry Jason.” My answer shocked everyone. Even Sophia, who had been waiting to see me rejected, froze with her glass mid-air. After a moment, Jason scoffed mockingly: “Victoria, your family has brought up marriage so many times before, and now you’re saying you don’t want to marry me? Do you think I believe that? You set up this dinner to make peace with me, didn’t you?” In the past, my parents had indeed mentioned marriage to Jason multiple times. Even though they didn’t like him, they couldn’t refuse because I was so in love with him. I wanted to keep that face by my side forever, so I threatened my parents with tears and tantrums. So they had to humble themselves for me, again and again. But every time, Jason would brush it off: “I’ll marry Victoria once my career takes off.” After the company went public, he said: “I need to mature more before I can make Victoria happy.” Wait, wait, wait—year after year. He made endless excuses, but I knew what he really wanted to say: The person he wanted to marry wasn’t Victoria. It was Sophia. This time, I would be the one to say it clearly. I spoke again: “Jason, like you’ve always said, we really aren’t suited for marriage.” Seeing how calm I was, confusion and panic flashed in Jason’s eyes. He was about to say something when Sophia suddenly clutched her stomach in pain. “Jason, I think I ate something bad. My stomach really hurts. Can you take me to the hospital?” Jason picked up Sophia in front of my parents and rushed toward the door. Ignoring his parents’ attempts to stop him, he said impatiently to me: “We can discuss the wedding anytime. It doesn’t have to be now. Sophia’s not feeling well and needs to go to the hospital right away.” “Just wait. I’ll definitely marry you.” As soon as he left, his parents shook their heads helplessly: “Victoria, he doesn’t deserve you. We really do want you as our daughter-in-law.” I smiled and comforted them: “It’s okay. There will be other opportunities.”

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My husband was an undercover hero who helped take down the mob. To save that hostage girl, he was tortured by them for an entire month. After he was rescued, his body was covered in scars, and he developed a severe physical condition. The doctors said it was psychological trauma—that he couldn’t be pushed. I was heartbroken. For three years, I didn’t even dare breathe loudly in my sleep. I was terrified of disturbing his fragile nerves. I spent every penny we had on his treatment. I even paid for that poor rescued girl’s education. On the day of the police commendation ceremony, the big screen accidentally played an unreleased surveillance clip. In the footage, that man—who acted so timid and submissive around me— was pinning that girl against a desk, going at it like a wild animal. His mouth was full of filthy words, his movements rough and savage. He quickly covered my eyes. “Don’t look! That was just an act to gain the mob’s trust!” “Tech team! Who played that video? Shut it off now!” Captain Harris’s roar exploded through the auditorium. The blinding white light from the screen vanished, plunging the entire hall into dead silence and darkness. I sat frozen in my seat, hands and feet ice cold. The hand covering my eyes carried the familiar scent of tobacco. But that same hand, just moments ago on screen, had been gripping another girl’s hair. “Emma, don’t look.” Ryan’s voice came from beside my ear—steady as always, but with an almost imperceptible tension. I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. My fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of my shirt, wrenching the soft fabric into a hard knot. It was a nervous habit of mine. The lights snapped back on with a sharp click, stinging my eyes. Everyone around me—colleagues, family members—their gazes landed on me like spotlights. Pity. Curiosity. Contempt. Schadenfreude. Ryan lowered his hand. His face looked pale under the lights, but his eyes remained calm. He took off his crisp uniform jacket and draped it over my shoulders, covering my trembling body. “Just a misunderstanding. Special interrogation tactics, that’s all.” He spoke to the people around us. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough for the nearest rows to hear clearly. “Everyone, please continue. Let’s not let this little hiccup ruin the ceremony.” His tone was calm, as if that clip—practically worthy of an adult film—was nothing more than mundane work footage. Captain Harris hurried over, his face full of apology and concern. “Emma, are you okay? Those idiots in tech messed up. I’ll deal with them later!” The way he looked at me was pure, genuine concern—like an elder worried about someone younger. For three years, the entire department knew about Ryan’s condition. They also knew that to take care of him, I’d quit my job and stayed by his side every moment. In their eyes, I was the noble, patient, selfless officer’s wife. But now, that nobility had become a huge joke. “I’m fine, Captain.” My voice came out dry and hoarse. Ryan wrapped his arm around my shoulders, his grip firm and commanding. “I’m taking her home to rest.” He didn’t give anyone a chance to ask more questions. We walked through countless complicated stares and left the auditorium. Cold wind rushed through the corridor. I shivered. It wasn’t until we got into the car that he let go of me. The car felt cramped. The smell on him—sweat mixed with something primal—made me nauseous. I turned to stare out the window, my stomach churning. “It was fake.” He started the car and finally spoke. “What was fake?” “What happened in the video. It was a performance for the mob, to gain their trust.” His explanation was exactly what I’d expected—calm, logical, flawless. “That girl, Anya, she was in too deep back then. Without some special tactics, she wouldn’t have talked.” “I thought those files were destroyed long ago. I didn’t expect the tech team to make such a mistake.” He drove while glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “I know it’s hard to accept, but that was my job.” “Emma, you have to understand.” Understand. Those words again. For three years, I understood the trauma from his failed mission. I understood his physical condition. I understood all his sensitivities and fragilities. I took care of him like a delicate porcelain doll. But I couldn’t understand how he could sleep with another woman on a desk without batting an eye. Yet around me, a single touch seemed like torture to him. The car stopped downstairs. I didn’t move. Ryan unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned toward me. His face was close to mine. Those eyes that once made me fall so deep—now they were filled with exhaustion and some complicated emotion I couldn’t read. “Stop being upset, okay?” His voice softened, coaxing. “Anya’s waiting for us upstairs. She was really scared today.” Those words hit me like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. I whipped my head around and stared at him. “Why is she in our home?” Ryan frowned, a flash of impatience crossing his eyes. “She was scared living alone. She moved in a few days ago.” “I thought I told you.” He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world—as if this wasn’t my home, just some hotel where anyone could crash. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. He hadn’t told me. He hadn’t told me anything.

I pushed open the car door and stumbled toward the building. The key jammed in the lock. It took several tries to get it right. The moment the door opened, an unfamiliar perfume hit me. In the entryway sat a pair of pink high heels that didn’t belong to me. On the living room couch lay a woman’s jacket. On the coffee table were half-eaten snacks and a fashion magazine. Everything here announced the presence of another woman. Anya walked out of the master bedroom wearing my nightgown. That silk nightgown—I’d splurged on it for my birthday and never once worn it. Now it hung loosely on Anya’s slender frame, the neckline gaping wide, revealing patches of suggestive red marks. “Ryan, Emma, you’re back!” When she saw us, her face took on a startled, rabbit-like expression. She instinctively pulled at her collar. “I’m sorry, Emma. Your nightgown… all my clothes are in the wash. Ryan said I could borrow yours.” She looked at me timidly, her eyes glistening with tears, as if I were the intruder here. Ryan walked in and casually took the glass of water from Anya’s hand, taking a sip. “Were you scared? It’s okay now.” He stroked her head, the gesture intimate and natural. That kind of tenderness—I’d only ever seen it when he first came back from missions, at his most vulnerable. “I’ll go make dinner.” I dropped those few words and fled into the kitchen. Cold water ran over my hands, but I felt nothing. My body was like cotton set on fire, burning from the inside out. I could hear them talking quietly in the living room. “Ryan, is Emma mad? It’s all my fault…” Anya’s voice was tearful. “Don’t overthink it. She just needs time to process.” Ryan’s voice was low. “You had a scare today. Go rest early.” “But I’m scared. Every time I close my eyes, I see those surveillance images…” “Then I’ll stay with you for a while.” The door clicked softly shut. I turned off the faucet and leaned against the cold counter, trembling all over. So it wasn’t that he couldn’t. He just couldn’t with me. I made three dishes and a soup for dinner—all Ryan’s favorites. For the first time, I didn’t serve him food like I usually did. The atmosphere was suffocating. Anya kept her head down, eating in tiny bites, her eyes red-rimmed. Ryan’s expression wasn’t good either. He barely ate before setting down his fork. “I’m full.” He stood up and pulled a stack of cash from his wallet, placing it on the table. “This month’s living expenses. Let me know if it’s not enough.” I stared at those crisp bills and found them blinding. When did our relationship come down to just this? “Is Anya’s tuition and rent coming from this too?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. Ryan’s movements froze. He turned to look at me, his eyes going cold. “She’s a girl with no one to rely on. Helping her is the right thing to do.” “Emma, I thought you were better than this.” Better than this? I’d spent every penny we had treating his so-called “condition.” I’d sold the jewelry my mother left me to pay for this “poor girl’s” education. And all I got was being told I wasn’t being generous enough. My heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand. I could barely breathe. “Fine. I’m petty.” I lifted my head and met his gaze. “Ryan, tell her to move out.” “This is our home.”

Anya’s fork clattered to the floor. She flinched, shoulders hunching, tears spilling down her cheeks. Ryan’s face went completely dark. He didn’t look at me. Instead, he walked over to Anya, bent down to pick up the fork. “Don’t be scared.” He pulled her up and positioned her behind him, shielding her like she was facing some vicious enemy. “Emma, are you done throwing your tantrum?” I watched him protect another woman like that, and I laughed—but tears fell despite me. “Ryan, who’s the one throwing a tantrum here?” “For the past three years, I’ve lived like a ghost for you.” “I didn’t dare speak loudly. I didn’t dare sleep with the lights on. I was terrified of disturbing your fragile nerves.” “I made you my whole world, my everything. And what about you?” “You were out there sleeping with another woman, then coming home to tell me it was for work!” “How am I supposed to believe that? How am I supposed to understand?” My voice grew louder and louder until I was screaming. Three years of grievances and pain exploded in that moment. Behind him, Anya trembled even harder, crying: “Emma, please don’t blame Ryan. It’s all my fault… If it weren’t for saving me, he wouldn’t have—” “Shut up!” Ryan suddenly growled, cutting her off. The coldness in his eyes could have frozen me solid. “Emma, you really think I’m lying to you?” I bit my lip and said nothing, but the distrust in my eyes said everything. He suddenly laughed—a laugh filled with self-mockery and bone-deep exhaustion. “Fine. Since you don’t believe me, I’ll show you the proof.” He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen rapidly, then tossed it in front of me. On the screen was a hospital diagnostic report. Severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, accompanied by serious physiological dysfunction. Black words on white paper, searing my eyes. Below were several video clips—recordings of his hypnotherapy sessions with a psychologist. In the videos, he looked like a helpless child, curled up on the couch, drenched in cold sweat, mumbling words I couldn’t understand. It was a side of Ryan I had never seen—his most vulnerable self. “See?” His voice was rough. “The doctor said my trauma stems from that month of torture. I have an instinctive resistance and fear toward all intimate contact.” “The reason Anya is different…” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “The doctor’s analysis is that because she went through the same hell I did, my subconscious sees her as safe—so it lowered my defenses.” “It’s a pathological response, not a betrayal.” His explanation sounded airtight, even scientifically rigorous. So I wasn’t his exception. I was the unsafe factor being excluded. “So I’m the cause of your condition, is that it?” I murmured. Ryan seemed caught off guard. He froze for a moment. He stepped toward me, wanting to hold me, but I stumbled back a step. His outstretched hand hung in the air, his expression complicated. “Emma, it’s not what you think.” “I love you. I just want us to have a good life together.” “Give me some time, okay? I’ll heal myself.” His voice was soft, almost pleading. I felt like I was losing my mind.

That night, for the first time, Ryan didn’t go sleep in the study. He lay beside me, his body rigid, but a galaxy stretched between our hearts. The next morning, I woke up to find him already gone. In a daze, I packed a few clothes and stuffed them into a suitcase. I needed to get away. I needed to clear my head. I sent Ryan a message saying I was going to stay at my parents’ place for a few days. He didn’t reply. I dragged my suitcase downstairs. At the entrance of our complex, I spotted Ryan’s car parked not far away. He hadn’t left. Something indescribable stirred in my chest. I pulled my suitcase toward his car, step by step. The window rolled down, but it wasn’t Ryan’s face. It was Captain Harris. “Emma, where are you headed?” His expression was serious. “I… I’m going to stay at my parents’ for a few days.” Captain Harris sighed and opened the car door. “Get in. Let’s talk.” The car didn’t head toward my parents’ house. Instead, it circled the city’s most congested main roads, round and round. “That kid Ryan—stubborn as a mule.” Captain Harris drove while he talked. “I know you’ve been wronged. But you also know what these three years have been like for him.” “That month—no human being should have to go through that. If it were me, I probably would’ve lost my mind.” I kept my head down, fingers unconsciously twisting my shirt hem again. I’d heard all this countless times. “I know.” “You don’t just know—you’ve been incredible.” Captain Harris glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Everyone at the station says Ryan must have saved the world in a past life to marry a woman like you.” “But Emma, some things can’t be fixed just by being good.” My heart clenched. “Captain, do you know something?” Captain Harris was silent for a long time—so long I thought he wouldn’t speak again. He pulled the car over by the river and lit a cigarette. He took a deep drag. “About Anya—what Ryan told you wasn’t the whole truth.” My stomach seized violently. A wave of nausea hit me. My body reacted faster than my brain could process. I never expected what he said next would push me into the abyss. “Anya wasn’t just some ordinary hostage.” “She was the mob boss’s adopted sister.” My mind went blank with a deafening buzz. “What did you say?” “That mission—Ryan’s goal was to take down the entire organization.” “Anya grew up in that world. She did whatever her brother told her. It took Ryan a long time to make her waver.” “Later, when things went south, her brother wanted to clean house. Ryan got captured because he was protecting her.” “So he wasn’t tortured for saving a hostage—he was tortured for protecting Anya?” I could hear my own voice shaking. “You could say that.” “Then… that video?” “It was staged.” Captain Harris exhaled a ring of smoke that blurred his face. “Ryan needed to get the final piece of evidence. The team helped him fake that video.” “To protect his reputation—and to give Anya a fresh start—everyone agreed on the same story.” My marriage. My love. Everything I’d given for three years—all built on a massive lie. “Why… why are you telling me this?” I used every ounce of strength to ask that question. Captain Harris stubbed out his cigarette, his eyes full of struggle and reluctance. “Because that kid Ryan—he’s in too deep.” “What he feels for Anya isn’t just about the mission.” The air in the car seemed to freeze. A clean break is better than a slow death. How easy that sounds. My three years of youth. My wholehearted devotion. The love I thought was unbreakable—it had been a joke from the very beginning. I don’t even know how I got out of the car or how I made it back to that so-called home. I pushed open the door. The place was empty. Anya wasn’t there. Neither was Ryan. Just as well. I needed space to digest the truth. I lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling. My eyes burned dry, but not a single tear would fall. My phone buzzed—a picture message from an unknown number. A photo. In it, Ryan and Anya sat in an upscale restaurant, making wishes over candlelight. Anya wore a birthday tiara, her smile bright and sweet. Ryan’s gaze held a tenderness and adoration I had never seen before. Below the photo was a message: Emma, Ryan’s helping me celebrate my birthday. We’ll be back later. He didn’t want you to overthink, so he told me not to tell you.

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One month after my mother passed away, my father brought his mistress home. I screamed and cried, grabbing a glass and hurling it at the woman and her daughter. The scheming mistress cried, but clutched her head and leaned against my father, saying she was fine. My father flew into a rage. For the first time ever, he yelled at me and told me to go back to my room. I couldn’t take it anymore and ran away from home. My father was so angry his heart condition nearly flared up: “If you leave, don’t ever come back!” But I still left. I didn’t even take a single penny—I wanted him to regret cheating, to regret losing me and my mother! But after I left, I realized how brutal the real world actually was. I hadn’t even finished high school. All I could do was manual labor and food delivery. Three thousand dollars a month wasn’t enough to rent a decent place. I had to share a cramped basement apartment with strangers. One night, rushing to make a delivery, I ran a red light and got hit by a truck. I died in an unclaimed body in the morgue, while my father was throwing a one-month celebration for his new son at his mansion. He had a loving wife, a son and daughter, the perfect happy family—while I died alone on a freezing night! But then, when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day that woman and her daughter first showed up! This time, I didn’t cry or scream. I just secretly slipped my father a sterilization drug.

The glass hit the mistress square on the head. She clutched her bleeding forehead and collapsed against my father. My father screamed at me: “Emma! Have you lost your mind? Did everything I taught you go in one ear and out the other?” I froze for a moment, then realized—I had been reborn. The mistress clung to my father’s arm and said softly: “Richard, don’t be so hard on her. She just lost her mother. It’s normal for her to be upset.” My father held her protectively and pointed at me: “Apologize to Victoria right now!” Victoria’s eyes glistened with tears as she quickly waved her hands: “No, no, it’s fine. I know Emma looks down on someone like me. Please don’t fight because of me. I’ll just leave.” She turned and started dragging her suitcase toward the door. But then her daughter, Megan, suddenly burst into tears: “Mom, didn’t you already give up our apartment? Are we going to be homeless again?” My father, who had been hesitating about whether to let them stay, suddenly made up his mind. He pointed to the master bedroom: “Stay. Victoria, from now on, you’re the lady of this house!” Then he pointed at me: “Emma, go to your room and think about what you’ve done!” The mother and daughter kept their heads down, sobbing, but I could see the triumph hidden in their eyes. Scheming bitches! She knew exactly what she was getting into when she became his mistress. My mother wasn’t even cold in her grave, and here they were, moving in. I didn’t know what kind of act she was putting on. I clenched my fists, wanting to throw another glass. But when I looked up, my father’s face was already red with fury. In my previous life, my pride couldn’t handle my father yelling at me. I stormed out without taking anything—and all my jewelry and designer bags ended up with Megan. In the end, I died getting hit by a truck over a three-dollar delivery tip. A miserable death. This time, I would not make the same mistake! I relaxed my grip and pinched my thigh hard, forcing tears to well up in my eyes. “Dad, are you abandoning me?”

My father, who had been furious just moments ago, paused. His tone softened slightly: “What nonsense are you talking about? You’re my only daughter! How could I ever abandon you?” I pouted and pointed at Megan: “What about her? Isn’t she here to be your daughter? Isn’t she moving into our home?” My father said without thinking: “She’s Victoria’s daughter. If you don’t like it, she can just call me ‘Uncle Richard’ instead.” Seeing their chance at the mansion slipping away, Victoria and Megan’s faces stiffened. Megan put on her most pitiful expression: “Uncle Richard, does Emma not like me?” Victoria immediately jumped in: “Richard, are we making things difficult for you by being here? If Emma really doesn’t want us, I won’t force it.” “As long as I can be with you, anywhere is home.” My father was instantly moved by this heartfelt declaration. He took a deep breath. “Emma, from now on, Victoria is like your mother! And Megan is like your sister. You need to treat them well.” My hands clenched tight, my nails digging into my palms. The flowers on my mother’s grave hadn’t even wilted yet, and this woman was supposed to be like my mother? “Dad, it hasn’t even been thirty-five days since Mom passed. You two were childhood sweethearts, deeply in love. Is Victoria really in such a hurry?” At the mention of my mother, guilt flickered in my father’s eyes. He finally stopped insisting. “You’re right, I wasn’t thinking clearly. Victoria, why don’t you and Megan stay at the apartment downtown for a few days?” Victoria stared at me, a flash of venom in her eyes. She clutched her injured forehead and said weakly: “Richard, you know I’ll do whatever you say…” Before she could finish, she fainted. Megan nearly burst into tears. “Mom! What’s wrong? Please don’t scare me! You know your health isn’t good!” My father went into full CEO-rescue mode, scooping her up and shouting: “Doctor! Where’s the doctor?!” I sat on the couch, smirking coldly. So what if she used this trick to stay? I had plenty of ways to get rid of them!

“The family doctor said Victoria has a concussion from you hitting her with that glass. Go apologize properly!” Victoria was lying in bed, her head wrapped in gauze, still playing peacemaker. “Richard, don’t blame her. I’m sure she didn’t mean it, right?” Victoria looked at me with that soft, challenging gaze. Normally, I would have been provoked. But now? I could out-manipulate her. I put on my most pitiful expression: “I’m sorry, Dad. I was just so angry that I threw a glass. How was I supposed to know Victoria would walk right into it?” My father was so caught off guard by my response that he actually laughed, his anger fading. He patted my head and said: “I’ve spoiled this child too much. Victoria, please don’t be upset.” Victoria’s face darkened, but she forced a smile and said it was fine. As long as they could stay here, she wasn’t worried about winning over a man’s heart. When it came time to choose bedrooms that evening, Megan immediately set her sights on my room on the second floor. My room was spacious with great natural light, plus it had its own bathroom and walk-in closet. Victoria quickly said: “That’s Emma’s room. Do you really think you deserve to stay there?” “Richard, Megan isn’t used to such big rooms. The guest room downstairs is fine. We don’t want to be any trouble.” Megan started crying pitifully, and I could see my father starting to soften. I spoke up immediately: “Dad, I think Victoria has a point. What if Megan has nightmares in such a big room?” “Our guest room is perfectly nice. Once it’s tidied up, Megan will feel right at home.” My father’s furrowed brow relaxed: “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. Since she’s not used to big rooms, the guest room will do for now.” Victoria couldn’t maintain her smile any longer. But the smile didn’t disappear—it just moved to my face. Back in my room, I pulled up the hidden camera feed I’d installed in the guest room earlier. Megan was crying and throwing a fit about not wanting to stay in that room. She wanted my big room. “Mom, you said I was going to be a rich heiress! Why am I still being stepped on by Emma?” Victoria’s face was dark with anger: “What do you know? This is called strategic retreat. Does that little brat really think she can outplay me?” “Your Uncle Richard doesn’t have a son. Once I get pregnant with his baby, we’ll see how smug Emma is then!” With that, Victoria walked out the door, ready to bring tea to my father in his study. And I had already slipped the sterilization drug into the kettle.

What I didn’t expect was that three months later, Victoria actually got pregnant! When I heard the news, I was stunned. I immediately messaged the seller who’d sold me the drug, asking what was going on. The reply came: “That’s absolutely impossible. This isn’t some ordinary fertility suppressant. If a man takes too much of this, he’ll become…” The rest of the message made me laugh—and confirmed one thing. My father definitely couldn’t get anyone pregnant anymore. So whose baby was Victoria carrying? My father was overjoyed at becoming a father again in his later years. Not only did he have the master bedroom completely redecorated to Victoria’s taste, he even insisted that Megan move into my room. “Victoria said Megan gets scared sleeping alone. Let her stay with you.” Victoria stroked her still-flat belly and shot me a triumphant smile. “Emma, you don’t mind, do you?” I smiled right back at her: “Of course not. Once you give birth to my little brother, we’ll all be one big happy family.” Seeing us getting along so well, my father beamed with joy and announced that the whole family would go out for dinner that night. When I got back to my room, Megan was standing in front of the mirror, trying on a pair of my wine-red stilettos. When she saw me come in, she grinned: “Such pretty shoes. I’m just trying them on. You don’t mind, do you?” Those were a gift from my mother for my eighteenth birthday. The last gift she ever gave me. I couldn’t even bring myself to wear them. I couldn’t take it anymore. My face went cold: “Take them off. Now.” Megan sneered: “Dropping the act now that your dad’s not around?” Then she kicked her foot hard against the full-length mirror. The delicate heel snapped clean off, and the glass shattered with a deafening crash. I stood frozen as hurried footsteps thundered up the stairs behind me. Victoria came up clinging to my father’s arm. She covered her mouth, her eyes instantly welling with tears. “Megan! What happened to your leg? There’s blood everywhere! Does it hurt?” Megan clutched her bleeding shin, crying: “I’m sorry, Emma. I shouldn’t have tried on your shoes. Please don’t blame Mom.” The broken heel lay discarded on the floor—it looked exactly like I’d thrown the shoe in a fit of rage. My father frowned, disappointment written all over his face: “Emma, I actually thought you’d grown up a little. Turns out you’re two-faced!” I instinctively tried to explain: “She’s the one who—” But my father cut me off, raising his voice: “Enough! You always have excuses! I think you just don’t want this family to be happy!” I shut my mouth. My father made a phone call, then pointed at my closet: “Pack your things. You’re an adult now—move out.” “I’ve already arranged a place for you. Don’t come back unless it’s absolutely necessary. Victoria needs to rest. She can’t be stressed.” I nodded: “Fine. I’ll go. But I’m taking one thing with me.”

With that, I shoved Megan aside and pulled the heels off her feet. Her hands landed on the broken glass, and she let out a shriek. She glared at me through gritted teeth. I didn’t even look at her. I just wiped the stains off the shoes with disgust. “Congratulations. You two finally got what you wanted—getting me kicked out.” My father was about to lecture me again, but I looked up at him, my voice breaking: “This was the last gift Mom ever gave me. I’m not leaving it for them.” My father froze. I walked past them and headed downstairs without another word. The driver was already waiting at the door. I got in the car and closed my eyes. I’d already sold off or swapped out everything valuable in the house. After what happened in my past life, I understood one thing clearly: money is the only thing you can count on. As for Victoria and her daughter? There was plenty of time to deal with them. The apartment my father arranged was near my school. It was one of those fancy prep schools where money could buy your way in. When I showed up the next day, I found out Megan was enrolled there too. She was wearing my clothes, carrying one of the fake designer bags I’d swapped in, surrounded by classmates showering her with compliments. “Oh look, isn’t that our former heiress? Got kicked out and still showing up to class?” The group burst into mocking laughter. Megan sauntered over to me and said sweetly: “Don’t listen to them, Emma. Even after the baby’s born, you’ll still be part of the family.” I pulled my hand away coldly: “‘Our’ family? Are you even a Whitmore?” Megan’s expression stiffened. She pouted: “Do you still hate me, Emma? It’s not like I asked Uncle Richard to kick you out.” Some of the social climbers quickly jumped in: “Megan, don’t apologize to her. She’s just stuck up!” “Exactly. Acting all high and mighty when she won’t even get a cent of the inheritance.” I said nothing, just looked down at my book. I’d been through enough in my past life to know how fickle people could be. Their mockery didn’t faze me. Megan basked in the attention and announced loudly: “When my little brother’s one-month celebration comes around, you’re all invited!” I gripped my pen tighter, smiling coldly to myself. Oh, let them all come. I couldn’t wait. Ten months passed in the blink of an eye, and the day of the baby’s one-month celebration arrived. My father called me personally and told me to come home. “Enough with the attitude. This is your baby brother. What will people think if his big sister doesn’t show up?” I agreed immediately and grabbed the folder sitting on my desk, tucking it into my bag. When I arrived in my plain school uniform, my father—who was busy greeting guests—frowned at me. “Emma, do you have any sense of dignity? You couldn’t even find a decent outfit?” I glanced at Megan and tilted my chin toward her: “All my nice clothes went to the new heiress, didn’t they?” My father went silent. He waved over his assistant to take me to change. But Victoria appeared, cradling the baby: “Emma, you’re here! Would you like to hold your little brother?” Before I could react, she was already placing the baby in my arms. I reached out to catch him—but it was too late. The swaddled infant slipped from the blanket and hit the marble floor. The baby’s agonized wails echoed through the hall. I stared at her in disbelief. This woman was ruthless enough to use her own son as a pawn! All eyes turned to us. Victoria sobbed dramatically: “Emma! Even if you don’t like your brother, how could you drop him like that?” My father’s face went dark. Without even letting me explain, he slapped me across the face. My head snapped to the side, my cheek burning. It took me a moment to process it. My father had hit me. This was the first time in my entire life. A wave of humiliation and fury exploded in my chest. My father clutched his chest, glaring at me with raw disappointment: “I really misjudged you! You heartless, ungrateful girl! You couldn’t even hold onto your own brother!” Victoria clutched the baby, wailing: “He’s just a baby! Can’t you stand him that much? Are you that afraid he’ll take your inheritance?” Everyone was staring at me now. Some with contempt. Some with disdain. Some just enjoying the show. “The Whitmore heiress is vicious, huh? Dropping a one-month-old baby like that!” My father was trembling with rage. He spat out: “Do you think I’m too old to do anything? Let me tell you—you won’t see a single penny of my money!” The room erupted in shocked murmurs. Victoria and Megan couldn’t hide their glee. This meant the entire Whitmore fortune would be theirs! I touched my stinging cheek and let out a bitter laugh. But I didn’t break down or cry like they expected. Instead, I pulled the document out of my bag. “Dad, why don’t you take a look at this gift first before you make any decisions?”

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My husband who never liked pets suddenly adopted a stray cat. He said he could hear the cat’s thoughts, and that it had come to repay a debt of gratitude by helping him become a billionaire. He named the cat Bella. “Bella says that before I become a billionaire, I need to sleep with her every night so I can absorb her fortune energy.” He pushed me out of the master bedroom and locked the door. The next day, I developed a 104°F fever from the drafty storage room and begged him to take me to the hospital. But he locked me inside the storage room instead: “Bella says you just need to drink some hot water and you’ll be fine. This is a critical period—we can’t go out, or it’ll break my fortune flow.” “Once I become a billionaire, you’ll have more money than you could ever spend!” But the storage room caught fire by accident. I was burned to death, my body charred beyond recognition. After I died, I suspected my husband was having an affair and had just used the cat as an excuse— deliberately killing me so he could be with his lover. But as my soul floated in the air, I watched my husband clutching my burned corpse, sobbing uncontrollably: “I just wanted to give you a better life. How did I end up killing you instead? Without you, what’s the point of having all this money?” Then he opened the window, held the cat tight, and jumped. When I woke up again, I had returned to the day my husband adopted the cat. I stared at that cat, determined to find out why he obeyed it so completely.

“Honey, if we just adopt this cat, we’ll get rich!” “I can hear this cat’s thoughts. She says she’s here to repay a debt of gratitude and will help me become a billionaire.” Lucas walked through the door carrying a filthy black stray cat, his eyes glinting with something manic. In my previous life, Lucas had been so allergic to cat fur that he broke out in hives. I’d taken care of him for an entire month, and after that, he’d been terrified of animals. But with this black cat, he acted like he was under a spell, throwing all caution to the wind. Later, to be alone with the cat, he’d banished me to the storage room—where I’d died of a high fever. I looked at that cat, my grip tightening around the mop handle. I knew I had been reborn. “Emma, why aren’t you saying anything?” Lucas frowned when I didn’t respond: “Whether you agree or not, I’ve decided to keep her!” I snapped back to reality, pushed down my thoughts, and forced a gentle smile: “Of course not. If she’s here to repay a debt, then she’s an honored guest in our home. She can stay!” Lucas seemed momentarily stunned. The black cat in his arms was staring at me intently with those eerie green eyes. Maybe I was imagining it, but I could swear I saw something in those eyes—a cruel, human kind of mockery. Lucas relaxed and stroked the cat’s head gently: “From now on, she’s our precious baby. Let’s call her Bella!” Lucas carried the cat into the bathroom to give her a bath himself. This man who made me wash his dirty socks was now crouching by the bathtub, testing the water temperature over and over, washing the cat with tender care. In my previous life, I’d suspected Lucas was having an affair and that the cat was just his excuse to kill me. But after I died, my soul watched Lucas jump off the building with the cat in his arms. If he just wanted to run off with a mistress, I was already dead—why would he kill himself too? There had to be a secret I didn’t know. While Lucas was out buying cat food, I posted a reward notice in our building’s residents’ group chat, hoping to find the cat’s owner and get some clues. Unfortunately, my message went nowhere. Either no one had seen the cat, or they assumed it was spam. Only one message caught my attention. Someone told me to get rid of the cat immediately—or else there’d be minor troubles at best, and a deadly disaster at worst. I was about to reply when Lucas came home with armfuls of shopping bags. He saw what was on my phone, and his expression darkened. “You can’t even stand me having a cat? How much does keeping a cat even cost? One bottle of your skincare products could feed her for months!” “Emma, I never thought you’d say one thing and do another!” I quickly explained: “This cat appeared so suddenly. I just wanted to make sure she didn’t belong to someone else. If we get attached and then the owner shows up wanting her back, that would be awkward.”

Hearing my explanation, Lucas’s expression softened, though he still muttered: “Bella only has one owner—me!” Then he started unpacking all sorts of fancy gift boxes filled with high-end custom pet clothes for Bella. He held up a little pink dress against her body, his eyes full of adoration: “Bella would look so cute in this!” I glanced at the price tag. The little dress cost $9,999. Just yesterday, he’d yelled at me for an hour about being wasteful because I bought a $9.99 T-shirt. I swallowed my bitterness and pretended to be concerned: “You bought Bella so many clothes. That must have cost a fortune?” Lucas waved dismissively: “So what if I spend money on Bella? She’ll give me back way more!” Bella was curled up in Lucas’s arms, those green eyes looking at me with a challenge. She even stuck out her tongue and licked his fingers. Lucas looked intoxicated by it, and that overwhelming sense of wrongness hit me again. To prove his point, he pulled out a stack of scratch tickets. “This is Bella’s power!” I flipped through them. Ten scratch tickets—and they’d won $12,000! Seeing my stunned expression, Lucas said smugly: “Take good care of her, and once she helps me become a billionaire, this will be nothing!” “Bella…” I repeated the name unconsciously. Then it hit me like lightning. While Lucas and the cat were playing happily together, I made an excuse about looking for something and slipped into the storage room. With trembling hands, I opened Lucas’s treasured college yearbook that he’d kept all these years. Sure enough, I found the name. It belonged to Lucas’s dead first love, Sophia Morgan. In her personal info section, her nickname was clearly written: Bella. I forced down the storm of emotions inside me and walked out holding the yearbook, deliberately putting on a jealous act: “Honey, are you still not over her? You even named your ‘grateful cat’ after her?” Lucas’s hand froze mid-stroke on the cat’s fur, and his face immediately darkened: “Emma, will you ever let this go? What you fell in love with was exactly this—how I sold everything I had to pay for her treatment. That’s the kind of man I am!” “Sophia’s dead. What’s the point of being jealous of a dead woman?” Five years ago, Sophia had terminal cancer, but Lucas never left her side. He went deep into debt trying to save her. I happened to be Sophia’s nurse at the time. I witnessed their undying love and thought he was a rare man of true devotion. After Sophia passed away, I started pursuing him. I stuck with him through the hard times, helped him pay off his debts, and married him even when he had nothing. But now I realized—all of Lucas’s devotion had only ever been for Sophia. Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a friend request. It was from that person who’d warned me about the disaster. 【Your family will face catastrophe within three days! Get rid of that cat immediately!】 I accepted the request, then asked building management to look into the cat. They were efficient. By evening, they sent me their findings. But the results were disappointing. It was just an ordinary stray cat. Plenty of the elderly residents who fed strays had seen it around. It probably wandered over from another neighborhood looking for food, and Lucas happened to spot it and bring it home. After thinking it over, I concluded: if there was nothing wrong with the cat, then the problem had to be with the person. After dinner, I heard clattering noises from the master bedroom. Then Lucas threw my belongings out the door. “What… what’s going on?” I pretended to be shocked. Lucas pointed matter-of-factly toward the storage room: “Bella says that before I become a billionaire, I need to sleep with her every night so she can transfer her fortune energy to me.” I was about to argue when he handed me a lottery ticket. It had won $40,000! “See? This is Bella’s power!” “Just make do in the storage room for now. If you’re around, she gets distracted during the energy transfer, and the fortune won’t reach me—you might even attract bad luck!” “Once we’re rich, honey, I’ll buy you anything you want!”

I was stunned inside, but outwardly I put on the look of a wronged wife: “But there’s not even a bed in the storage room…” Lucas cut me off impatiently: “So what if you sleep on the floor? No pain, no gain.” “Remember—don’t come anywhere near the master bedroom without my permission.” The black cat perched on his shoulder, silently baring her teeth at me, her eyes gleaming with a victor’s triumph. “Okay, honey. You focus on receiving the fortune energy. I’ll be waiting for you to give me the good life.” Right in front of me, Lucas slammed the master bedroom door shut with a bang. Then came the sound of the lock clicking into place. I turned and walked into the storage room, pulled out my phone, and opened the surveillance app. While he was out buying things for the cat, I’d secretly installed a hidden camera in the bedroom. On the screen, Lucas was holding the cat close, gently stroking her now and then. Man and cat, heads together, gradually drifting off to sleep. The scene looked completely normal, but an invisible terror wrapped itself tightly around me. In my previous life, I was burned alive in this drafty storage room. I couldn’t take that risk again. Quietly, I packed a few clothes and slipped out the door, checking into a nearby hotel. For several days in a row, Lucas insisted I sleep in the storage room, claiming that if I slept in the wrong position, it would affect his fortune. So I did the same thing every night—I’d go sleep at the hotel, then sneak back to the storage room in the morning. When Lucas noticed I looked refreshed every day, he asked curiously: “Is sleeping in the storage room really that comfortable?” My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly denied it. That night, Lucas suddenly showed up to check on the storage room. I was prepared and pretended to be groggy from sleep. “Honey, can I please move back to the bedroom? I keep feeling like something’s pressing down on me in here and I can’t breathe.” Lucas’s suspicious expression suddenly relaxed, and he smiled reassuringly: “Just hang in there a couple more days, honey. Once Bella helps me become a billionaire, you can sleep wherever you want!” Then he carried the black cat back to the master bedroom. I wasn’t lying. In my previous life, every night I slept in the storage room, I felt like something was crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe. I’d always thought something was wrong with my body. Now it seemed like this storage room might be hiding something sinister. While Lucas was out, I searched the entire storage room. In a corner, I discovered several creepy-looking talismans! I was starting to get an idea of what was going on. The next day, I knocked on the master bedroom door with a deathly pale face and purple lips: “Honey… please open the door…” “I have a fever. I feel terrible. Please take me to the hospital!” Through the glass, Lucas noticed my complexion and first looked delighted, then shouted angrily: “Hospital? Bella already told me—this is just your body expelling negative energy. It’s a normal reaction.” “But I’m running a 104-degree fever…” Lucas cut me off impatiently: “This is a critical period. We can’t go out, or we’ll leak fortune energy and ruin my path to becoming a billionaire.” “Honey, for the sake of our future good life, just tough it out a little longer.” Desperate, I pounded on the door: “Please just open the door and look at me. I really can’t take it anymore…” Silence from inside for two seconds: “Emma, just hang in there. I’m doing this for your own good. Once I become a billionaire, you’ll have more happiness than you can handle!” I pulled out the pregnancy test I’d prepared—the one showing two lines—and said with tears in my voice: “But I’m pregnant!” The door flew open. Lucas stood in the doorway, and when he saw my deathly pale face, a flash of panic crossed his eyes: “Honey, I’m worried the fever will hurt the baby. Will you please take me to the hospital?” “Pregnant women shouldn’t be around cats. It’s bad for the baby. Maybe… we should rehome Bella for now?” “No!” He practically roared it, his face turning ashen. My heart sank as I stared at him: “It’s just a cat. Is she really more important than our child?” “Are you hiding something from me?”

Lucas was clearly rattled. His eyes darted away, and it took him several seconds to force out a response: “Don’t overthink this. Trust me—you’ll feel better soon.” He reached out to help me up, but suddenly came a soft “meow~” Lucas snatched his hand back, his expression instantly darkening: “This is all your fault. What are you screaming about? You woke up Bella! If she doesn’t rest properly, how is she supposed to bring me fortune?” The door slammed shut. From inside came the sound of him cooing at Bella. I slid down to the floor, my back against the door, my entire body cold. The last shred of hope I had for this man crumbled completely. I pulled out my phone, found that person’s contact, and had just finished sending a message when Lucas suddenly burst out. He stormed into the storage room and pointed at the cross around my neck: “Take off that cross and give it to Bella.” “Bella says the cross will help her gather wealth better, and help me achieve my dream of getting rich faster.” I instinctively clutched my chest and stepped back warily: “No. This is the only thing I have left from my mother. I can’t give it to a cat.” “Honey, it’s just a piece of silver. Is it more important than our family’s fortune? Once I’m rich, I’ll buy you ten of them—a hundred!” Lucas lost his patience. He lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of my hair to force my head back, and roughly yanked at the red cord with his other hand. The cord snapped. A burning sting flared across my neck, but it was nothing compared to the coldness in my heart. He didn’t even glance at me. He turned and gently hung the cross around the black cat’s neck: “Bella, it looks so pretty on you. This is yours now!” The black cat rubbed affectionately against his hand, straightening up and glancing at me as if showing off. “Crack!” A sharp shattering sound. The cross lay in pieces on the floor. The black cat was smugly licking her paw—she had clearly knocked it off on purpose. “Bella, you little troublemaker!” Lucas didn’t scold her at all. Instead, he picked her up adoringly and kissed her: “Breaking it is good—’shattered’ sounds like ‘safe’ in Chinese. Out with the old, in with the new. Bella’s just helping me dispel bad luck!” I stumbled forward and picked up the fragments one by one with trembling hands. The sharp edges cut my fingers. The pain was excruciating. This was the last memento from my mother, and now it was destroyed too. “Meow~” The black cat let out a satisfied, drawn-out cry, as if mocking my futile efforts. “Enough. Stop standing there looking so miserable—it’s depressing.” Lucas frowned and waved his hand dismissively. “Clean that up. All those sharp pieces everywhere—what if they hurt Bella’s paws?” Then he turned and walked away, carrying the cat. I cradled the broken cross, tears streaming down my face. Just then, my phone buzzed. I struggled to pull it out. Just one short line of text, but it made me instantly alert, my blood running cold: “Your home has been set up with a ‘Soul Exchange Formation’! Run while you still can!” The overwhelming terror crushed my grief. I tiptoed toward the front door. One step. Two steps… I gripped the door handle and pressed down gently. Click! The door opened. Joy surged through me. I was about to rush out. A large hand suddenly reached from behind me, slamming the door shut with force: “Honey, you’ve been reborn too, haven’t you?”

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I had been married to Ethan Cole for one month when he was diagnosed with ALS. The doctor said his muscles would gradually atrophy until respiratory failure. I told him to quit his job, and I worked four jobs a day myself, so exhausted that my feet swelled too much to fit into shoes. But as long as I could afford his daily physical therapy, I felt it was all worth it. Until that night, when a drunk man grabbed me and dragged me into an alley, his vulgar words mixed with the stench of alcohol. I struggled and screamed toward Ethan at the alley entrance: “Call 911! Call 911 now!” He just stood there, frozen, not moving at all. Afterward, I threw myself at him, tears streaming down my face: “Why wouldn’t you lift your hand to call for help? You just watched me get attacked?” He said sorry in a low voice, and my heart sank bit by bit. Later, I accompanied him to a follow-up appointment. On the way, a woman in a white dress slipped. Ethan suddenly pushed me aside and rushed over to catch her steadily. He called out a name I had seen in 999 love letters. “Lily, are you okay?” So it turned out, I was his ALS.

The wind blew in from the alley entrance, carrying a rotten smell. My clothes were torn to shreds, my hair plastered messily against my bleeding forehead. The drunk was scared off by a few young people passing by. And my husband, Ethan Cole, had stood there the entire time. He didn’t move, didn’t shout, didn’t even make any attempt to call for help. He just stood there. I steadied myself against the cold wall and shuffled toward him step by step. “Ethan.” When I spoke, I realized my voice was completely hoarse. “Why didn’t you call 911?” He hung his head, his fingers twitching slightly—one of the few voluntary movements since his illness. “You couldn’t even yell? Just one shout for help would have been enough!” My questioning turned into hysterical screaming, piercing the empty night. “You just watched him drag me in there! You just watched! Did you want me to die?” Tears finally broke through the dam, mixing with blood as they flowed down. He finally raised his head and struggled to open his mouth, squeezing a few words from his throat. “I’m… sor…ry…” Those words, he said clearly enough. All the strength drained from my body instantly, and I collapsed at his feet. Sorry? For his twenty-thousand-dollar physical therapy sessions, I scrubbed dishes in restaurant kitchens until midnight, knelt to mop floors in office buildings, hauled bricks at construction sites, and worked as an overnight caregiver. I slept only three hours a day. My feet were so swollen that even the largest slippers wouldn’t fit. I just wanted to take him outside for some fresh air, so he wouldn’t be cooped up at home all the time. And what did I get? I got an “I’m sorry.” The hole in my heart grew bigger and bigger, and cold wind howled through it. I didn’t want to look at him anymore. I struggled to my feet and limped home. He followed behind, his steps slow and heavy—the last bit of dignity I had carefully maintained for him. Back home, I locked myself in the bathroom. Hot water washed over my body but couldn’t wash away the deep, bone-chilling disgust and coldness. The person in the mirror was haggard and disheveled, with none of the glow from our wedding day. I opened the medicine cabinet and tended to my wounds, every motion mechanical and numb. Ethan knocked on the door, gently and patiently. “Emma… open the door…” I ignored him. After a while, the knocking stopped. When I finished treating my wounds and came out, the living room was quiet. Ethan sat in his wheelchair, his back to me, his shoulders trembling slightly. Was he crying? I walked over, but saw the glowing phone screen in his hand. On the screen was a chat with someone saved as “Lily.” The last message was one he had just sent. “I miss you so much.” His fingers tapped rapidly on the screen—with a dexterity I had never seen before. “She’s so annoying. I can barely keep up this act anymore.”

The phone’s light reflected on his face. That wasn’t guilt or sadness—it was pure impatience and disgust. In that moment, my blood completely froze. He sensed my presence and whipped around, frantically trying to hide his phone. But it was too late. Our eyes met, and the mask of fragility on his face instantly crumbled. “Emma, let me explain…” Ethan’s defense stuck in his throat, because he saw the phone glowing in my hand too. On my screen was a bank collection notice I had just received. “Dear Ms. Emma Scott, the hospitalization and physical therapy fees you arranged for Mr. Ethan Cole are overdue. Please pay the outstanding balance of $200,000 within three days, or we will discontinue treatment.” Two hundred thousand dollars. What a laughable number. I closed my eyes, and memories of our wedding flashed through my mind. Back then, Ethan was handsome and tall, standing before me, making his vows. “Emma, I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.” He said his startup had failed, that he was drowning in debt, and asked if I still wanted to marry him. I smiled and hugged him: “I’m marrying you, not your money.” One month after the wedding, he got “sick.” ALS—a diagnosis that sounds hopeless just hearing it. I quit my job, sold our small but cozy home, rented a run-down old apartment, and started working like crazy. I believed that as long as we didn’t give up, there was always hope. But now, reality had slapped me hard across the face. “Explain what?” I asked him calmly. Even I was surprised at how composed I was. “Explain that you can actually move? Or explain that you’ve been lying to me all along?” Ethan stood up from the wheelchair. Yes, he stood up. Stood up straight. Gone was that sickly appearance that required my support just to barely stand. “I didn’t mean to, Emma.” He walked toward me, trying to take my hand. “It started as a joke…” “A joke?” I stepped back, avoiding his touch. “Working myself to the bone every day was a joke? You standing by while I was attacked was a joke? Ethan, your jokes sure come at a high price!” A flash of guilt crossed his face, but it vanished instantly. “It was Lily! She made a bet with me!” He desperately shifted the blame. “She said if I married you, I had to prove that she was the only one in my heart! She said unless she came back, I couldn’t have any ‘normal’ contact with the outside world! This was all for her!” “For her?” I repeated those words, finding the whole thing utterly absurd. “So I deserved to be played like a fool? I deserved to be your slave?” “I didn’t think that way! Seeing you work so hard, I felt bad too!” He shouted back as if he were the one who had been wronged. “I wanted to tell you the truth so many times! But Lily said this was the final test of our love! She said she’d be back soon!” “So those two hundred thousand dollars in ‘therapy fees’ were part of the test too?” I held up my phone, shoving the collection notice in his face. “I thought your startup failed and you were broke? How did you pay for this?” His face went white instantly. “I… I…” He stammered, unable to explain. I didn’t need his answer anymore. I rushed into the bedroom and pulled open a hidden compartment under his bed. Inside was a laptop. I opened it, and a stock trading app appeared on the screen. The numbers in the account had so many zeros I couldn’t count them. And in the transaction history, the most recent large withdrawal was from yesterday. The description read: Lily’s Gallery.

I carried the laptop out and slammed it down on the coffee table in front of Ethan. “Was this part of the test too? Throwing money at your first love while watching your wife go gray with worry over twenty thousand dollars in ‘medical bills’?” “You lay there every day watching me run myself ragged for you, watching me break down from collection calls—did that give you a sense of accomplishment?” “Ethan Cole, do you even have a heart?” I couldn’t control myself anymore. I grabbed the water glass from the table and hurled it at him. He dodged it easily. That agile movement stabbed my eyes once again. “Emma! Are you done with your tantrum?” He finally exploded, grabbing my wrist. “Money, money, money! That’s all you care about! Fine, I admit I lied to you, but haven’t I been good to you? I let you live in my house, gave you food and shelter—what more do you want?” “Food and shelter?” I laughed in disbelief. “I live in what you called ‘the only place left after selling everything to pay off debts’—a tiny dump! I wear secondhand clothes from thrift stores! I eat leftovers from restaurant kitchens! This is the food and shelter you gave me?” “Then what do you want? Lily is different! She’s never suffered a day in her life! I owe her! I have to make it up to her!” He shouted righteously. “You owe her, so I have to pay?” My heart turned completely cold. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” “Divorce?” He froze, then sneered. “Emma, don’t push your luck. Who do you think you are? Without me, can you even survive? A woman with no education and no connections—where are you going to find someone as good as me?” “Oh? Really?” I shook off his hand, walked to the door, and pulled it open. Outside stood a man in a tailored suit—my new boss, the CEO of a publicly traded company. Earlier that day, in that office building, I had knelt to polish his shoes. When he saw me, he nodded slightly, then turned his gaze to Ethan inside. “Mr. Cole, I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Ms. Emma Scott’s attorney, and also her new employer.” The man handed over a business card, then turned to me and gave me a document. “Ms. Scott, the equity transfer agreement left by your father has taken effect. As of today, you are officially the largest shareholder of Global Group. Here is the asset report on Mr. Ethan Cole that you asked me to investigate.” I took the documents without even glancing at them and threw them in Ethan’s face. Papers scattered across the floor, each one recording his lies and betrayal. Ethan’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief to utter incomprehension. “Ms. Scott?… Global Group?” he muttered as if hearing a fairy tale. I looked at him and spoke, word by word. “I forgot to tell you—my father is the chairman of Global Group. He said if the man I married truly loved me, all this would be my dowry. If not, consider it a lesson learned.” “Ethan Cole, congratulations. You’ve taught me the most expensive lesson of my life.” Ethan’s face lost all its color instantly. He staggered back a step and crashed into the wall with a dull thud.

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The day I died was my mom’s birthday. She had, for once, saved me a really big piece of cake. I floated in front of that cake, ghostly and hungry, taking a longing sniff. But the next second, the cake was handed to my sister instead. “Lily, go ahead and eat. Your sister, that ungrateful brat, clearly doesn’t deserve any!” Then she turned to Dad, who was recording on his phone. “Did you get all that? When that little brat comes back, make sure she watches this. Let’s see if she dares to say we’re playing favorites again!” “Of all the things she could’ve done, she had to run away from home!” “We spoiled her rotten! If she’s got the guts, she should never come back!” Mom slammed her hand on the table while cursing me out, that cold sneer on her face. She didn’t notice the panic written all over my sister’s face as she held the cake. She didn’t notice her tangled hair either. And she definitely didn’t notice the dark stains of blood on her sleeve. That blood was mine. When Mom was yelling at me in the community playground, a bunch of elderly neighbors had gathered to watch the drama. One old lady pointed at my mom and started lecturing the toddler in her arms. “Sweetie, you need to be a good girl. Don’t be like that lady’s kid, hiding somewhere and refusing to come home.” The little kid in her arms was sucking on her fingers, her voice muffled. “Hungry tummy.” Her grandma replied, “Exactly, that’s why this lady is trying to call her daughter home—” “Bullshit!” “Me, calling her home? That little brat—I hope she drops dead out there!” Mom whipped around and snapped at the old lady. The old lady covered her grandchild’s ears and said awkwardly, “Watch your language, will you? There are children here.” “With a mom like you, no wonder your daughter doesn’t want to come home!” I crouched on the rusty swing, which swayed gently in the wind, creaking softly. Mom’s face turned bright red. “Mind your own damn business, you old hag!” The old lady took half a step back after being yelled at. But looking at the innocent toddler in her arms and the crowd of onlookers, she couldn’t help but argue back. “Wh-what are you getting so defensive about!” “Last time I saw you all at the grocery store, you were carrying your younger daughter while the older one trailed behind, dragging shopping bags that were almost as tall as her!” “Tell me, folks—they’re both your kids! What kind of mother does that!” The moment she said that, whispers erupted through the crowd. “Oh wow, now that you mention it, I think I’ve seen that too.” “That girl was so skinny and pale, head down, barely able to walk straight.” I crouched on the swing with my head down, picking at my fingernails. From struggling before I died, my nails had peeled back one by one. Now that I was a ghost, the wounds were still the same—raw flesh tinged with a dark purple. At least they didn’t hurt anymore. Mom was all about appearances. Hearing those words, her face turned even redder, and her voice got shriller. “So what if I made her carry a few things? Would it kill her to help out around the house?” “That bag was full of snacks she wanted to eat anyway! She was carrying her own stuff—what’s the problem?!” That wasn’t true. I held my breath and kicked the swing hard. That day, the shopping bags had been so heavy they turned my fingers purple. They were stuffed with my sister’s favorite snacks, the soda Mom loved, and the cigarettes Dad smoked. I stumbled along behind Mom, sweat dripping into my eyes, making them dry and sting. My sister was being carried in Mom’s arms, holding an ice cream cone, her face smeared with it. She turned her head, a big smile on her face. “Want some, Emma?” I licked my lips, desperate for a taste. Mom immediately turned my sister’s face back around. “Ignore her. She deserves it. That’s what she gets for failing her test and talking back.” When we got home, they sat on the couch watching cartoons. I was locked out on the balcony to “reflect” and redo my test papers. My stomach cramped with hunger. In the living room, Mom fed my sister, smiling so gently. That smile—I had never once been on the receiving end of it. A thought began to grow inside me like a vine, wild and consuming. I stopped picking at my bloody fingernails and looked up at Mom. She was arguing back and forth with the neighbors, her pretty eyes blazing like a fire that would never go out. If Mom found out I was dead, would she regret it? Would she cry for me? Would she—just once—hold me the way she held my sister? I jumped off the swing and floated over to her side, reaching out to touch her. But my fingertip passed right through her arm, just as I expected. I pouted, then carefully slid my finger into Mom’s loosely curled palm. It almost looked like we were holding hands. I couldn’t help but smile a little. The next second, Mom flung her hand away. Of course, she couldn’t actually shake off my ghostly finger—it was just a gesture she made while arguing. “She’s my daughter! I’ll discipline her however I want!” “If she wants to die out there, then let her! At least I’ll finally have some peace and quiet!” My finger stayed suspended in midair, still curled in that pretend hand-holding pose. I stared at my transparent finger for a long time, then slowly pulled it back.

Mom stormed back home, furious. Dad was still playing video games. When he saw her come in, he didn’t even turn around. “Emma wasn’t at the playground?” “She’s dead to me!” “That little brat—when she gets back, I’m gonna beat her senseless!” Dad’s fingers on the keyboard didn’t even pause. “Don’t say stuff like that.” “Besides, this is partly your fault. If you hadn’t taken the dress you promised Emma and exchanged it for Lily’s size, she wouldn’t have run off in the first place.” That was all it took to set Mom off. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and hurled it at Dad. “How is this my fault!” “Lily needed that dress for her recital! Emma has plenty of dresses—would it kill her to give up one?” “Well, Emma wasn’t wrong when she said you play favorites!” “Me? Play favorites? Lily’s younger—what’s wrong with asking her sister to be a little understanding? Isn’t Emma supposed to act like a big sister? I spend tens of thousands on tutoring for Emma every year—doesn’t that count for anything?” “Act like a big sister? Is that why you’ve yelled at her so much she’s too scared to come home?” “She’s got a guilty conscience! She’s probably hiding somewhere having fun, just to make me mad!” Mom and Dad went back and forth, their argument growing louder and louder. Neither of them noticed the small figure crouched in the corner of the living room, hands pressed over her ears, face full of fear. She was still wearing that dress—the one I’d never even gotten to wear before it was exchanged at the store for a smaller size. I floated over and curled up across from her, hugging my knees, staring at the dress she was wearing. Blue, covered in rhinestones, so pretty and sparkly. Like the dress Cinderella wore in the cartoons. Dad had promised me—if I passed my test, he’d buy it for me. I studied so hard for so long, and finally, I passed. But the day the dress arrived, my sister cried and begged to wear a princess dress for her kindergarten talent show. Without a second thought, Mom took the dress and the receipt back to the store and exchanged it for the smallest size. “Emma, you’re the big sister. Let your little sister have this one.” “Next time—next time, Mommy will buy you an even better one.” There was no next time. I looked down at my own dress—washed so many times it had faded to a grayish white. In the bottom right corner, there were a few drops of ink my desk mate had flicked onto it during calligraphy class. No matter how many times I washed it, it never came out. Lily’s expression grew more and more dazed. Every time she heard my name, her body would flinch. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and burst into hysterical sobs. “Emma! Emma!” “Emma run!” The heated argument between Mom and Dad stopped abruptly. Mom hurried over and pulled Lily into her arms, gently patting her back. “Baby, I’m sorry. Mommy was wrong. Did we scare you?” “It’s all your sister’s fault for running off. When she comes back, we’ll yell at her together!” Dad walked over too. He sighed, his voice weary. “Okay, okay, stop crying. Daddy will buy you a doll tomorrow, how about that?” But Lily kept sobbing hysterically, calling out “Emma” over and over again. That night, Lily developed a high fever. Mom held Lily’s hand, her face exhausted, stroking it over and over. In the silence, she seemed to be talking to herself, her voice hoarse and bitter. “Your sister has been nothing but trouble since the day she was born. Now she won’t even come home, and she’s still finding ways to torment us…” “If she hadn’t been so stubborn and run off, you wouldn’t have gotten so scared. You wouldn’t have gotten sick…” “If she had any conscience at all, she’d come back and apologize on her own…” I stood on the other side of the hospital bed, watching Mom’s tired, tender profile. When she looked at Lily, her eyes were filled with such genuine worry and love. I had dreamed of that kind of tenderness countless times—if only I could have it just once. Now I was seeing it with my own eyes, but in this way. A sharp ache spread through my chest. So even ghosts could feel pain. I slowly reached out, wanting to touch Mom’s messy hair, wanting to tell her: Stop blaming me. Emma’s never coming back. My fingertip passed through her again, leaving nothing behind. Just like my death. Apart from making my sister sick and giving Mom another reason to complain about me— I left nothing behind.

The next day, Mom and Dad carried a listless, hollow-eyed Lily out of the hospital. As Dad folded the princess dress, his fingers paused on a stiff, dark-red patch of fabric on the sleeve. After a moment, he called out to Mom, who was coaxing Lily to drink some water. “Come look at this. Is this… is this blood?” Mom walked over. One glance, and her face went white. She grabbed Lily’s arm and frantically checked her over. “Lily, tell Mommy—where are you hurt? Let me see!” Dad tensed up too, checking Lily’s other arm, even lifting her hair to examine her scalp. Lily just stared with empty eyes, letting them move her around however they wanted. No crying, no fussing, no words at all. They didn’t find a single wound. That blood wasn’t Lily’s. I floated over and looked too. That bloodstain was probably from when the bad man grabbed me and Lily. He had grabbed my hair and yanked it back hard. In the searing pain, I lost my balance and my forehead slammed into a jagged rock jutting from the wall. Warm liquid instantly blurred my left eye, carrying the taste of rust. A few scalding drops of blood splashed from my forehead and landed on Lily’s blue sleeve—the sleeve she was using to grip my shirt so tightly. “Emma!” Lily’s piercing scream was the last clear sound I remembered. After that, everything became chaotic and dark. I only remembered using the last of my strength to shove Lily toward the crowded plaza. Then more fists and more pain rained down on me. By the time I was aware of anything again, I was already floating, weightless, crouching in front of the cake Mom had saved for me. “It’s not Lily’s blood…” Dad’s eyes were blank, his voice trembling as he asked Mom, “Then whose is it?” Mom didn’t answer. She suddenly turned to look at Lily, who kept murmuring “Emma” over and over. The hand holding the water bottle wouldn’t stop shaking. Unlike the car ride to the hospital, filled with Mom’s constant cursing— The drive home was dead silent. I followed them into the apartment complex. Just as they reached the entrance to their building, they ran into the college-aged guy who lived across the hall. He was on his bike, about to head out. “Hey Mr. and Mrs. Carter, is Lily feeling better?” He stopped his bike, a simple, friendly smile on his face. “Oh, and Mrs. Carter—happy belated birthday.” “Yesterday’s cake had extra mango in it, you know. Emma asked us to add it. She said it’s your favorite.” The moment he finished speaking— I saw Mom’s fingers twitch violently. Her nails dug into her own palm. The guy kept talking, his tone light and teasing. “Last month, Emma helped out at my parents’ bakery for a whole afternoon. She earned a little money and was so happy—said she wanted to buy you a birthday present.” “She even asked my mom which hand cream was best. Said your hands crack in the winter.” He concluded with a smile. “Emma’s such a good kid. Sweet, thoughtful, and hardworking too.” Mom and Dad stood frozen in place. I was a little stunned too. I thought about that tube of hand cream. I had hidden it in the innermost zippered pocket of my backpack, guarding it like a big, sweet secret. Every night after finishing my homework, I would secretly take it out and hold it. I imagined how Mom might look when she got it—would she smile, even for just a second? Would she reach out with those hands and gently ruffle my hair? Even just once. But now, that hand cream was probably still lying quietly in that backpack. Tucked away with my body, which had long since gone cold, hidden in some filthy corner. Mom opened her mouth, probably about to argue like she always did. But this time, all the sharp words got stuck in her throat. For the first time, when it came to something about me—she was silent. Back home, the silence stretched on. Without a word, Mom grabbed the mop and started scrubbing the floor, pressing down so hard it was like she wanted to stab right through it. Dad didn’t turn on his computer. He sat on the couch, then suddenly looked up and asked Mom: “Emma’s been gone all night.” “She’s only nine. Where could she even hide?” Mom slammed the mop onto the floor and hissed through clenched teeth. “How should I know?” “You’re on that stupid game all day! You don’t even care that your daughter ran away!” “I don’t care?” Dad shot to his feet, his voice rising. “Every time I tried to discipline her, who said I did a good job?” “Who’s the one who took the dress I bought for her and gave it to Lily, saying the big sister should give in to the little sister?” “And what about you? Have you ever gone to a single parent-teacher conference for her? Have you ever washed her clothes even once?” Their argument raged on, each of them scrambling to prove they weren’t to blame. Adults are ridiculous. Even worse than kids when it comes to dodging responsibility. I sat on the ceiling light, swinging my little legs. At least I don’t have to grow up. “Last year when she was in the hospital with a fever, you sat outside her room playing games for three days straight!” “And you? You took Lily to the indoor playground and left her all alone in the hospital!” Every word was a knife—cutting the other person, and cutting themselves too. Like that was the only way they could feel better. Mom suddenly stopped, breathing hard, and looked around the apartment. On the living room wall hung Lily’s first birthday photo. On the coffee table sat Lily’s toys. Even the fridge magnets were covered with Lily’s drawings. This home—where was there any trace of me? Dad followed her gaze, his face slowly draining of color. He opened his mouth, but in the end just slumped back onto the couch and said in a voice almost too quiet to hear: “Did we… did we really treat Emma badly?” Yes. For a long time now. Outside, the distant wail of sirens began to echo, getting closer and closer. Mom and Dad instinctively walked to the window and looked down. Mom’s hand gripped Dad’s arm tightly, her lips trembling. “Something didn’t happen, did it?”

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While working through the night on a project, my phone suddenly lit up with a notification from the smart home app. “Master bedroom bathroom light has been turned on.” “Master bathroom aromatherapy bath mode activated. Please enjoy.” Neither my wife Victoria nor I was home, and our house manager Mary was on vacation. So who had turned on those appliances? I checked the app again, then called Victoria. “Victoria, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?” She looked confused on the video call. “Miss me already? Honey, this project is really important. I won’t be back until tomorrow night at the earliest.” I rubbed my temples. “Sorry, I’ve been so busy I lost track of time. See you tomorrow.” After hanging up, I watched the smart home app and noticed the master bedroom curtains had suddenly closed. I texted Mary, then drove home. I almost called Mary, thinking of those stories about house managers stealing from their employers. But I hung up before it connected. Mary had been with us for over a decade. She was family—she wouldn’t do something like that. At the community gate, I rolled down my window. “Did someone come see me today? A friend said they were stopping by.” The guard shook his head. “No outside visitors registered today. Maybe they changed their mind?” I nodded. “Probably. Thanks.” Just then, Mary video-called me. She was at home with her kids. “Mary, take a few more days off. Spend time with your family. I’ll make sure you’re compensated.” I ended the call and my smile vanished. Mary wasn’t here. So had someone broken in? But why would a thief use the bathtub? When I reached the villa, the master bedroom lights were on. My chest tightened. Someone was inside. Who? I opened the front door quietly. Before I could turn on the lights, moonlight showed me Victoria’s slippers had been moved. I distinctly remembered lining up our shoes before I left. Was someone secretly living here, like in those news stories? Afraid the intruder might panic, I grabbed the baseball bat from behind the door. But just as I started up the stairs, Victoria appeared at the second-floor landing in her bathrobe and turned on the first-floor lights. “Dylan, what are you doing back?” She towel-dried her hair and clicked her tongue at the bat in my hand. “And with that?” I exhaled. “Just got off work. Saw your shoes had been moved and thought we had a burglar.” “Victoria, you didn’t tell me you were coming home. You scared me.” Then something hit me. “Wait—didn’t you say you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night?” Victoria ran down and pulled me into a hug. “That was the plan. But when you called, I knew you must have missed me, so I rushed back.” “I wanted to surprise you.” Her expression when she saw me was perfect—delighted, loving. Her words were sweet. But the fresh scent on her didn’t match. The bathroom light had been on for a while. She said she’d just gotten back. She was lying. Aromatherapy bath mode leaves a fragrance, but she only smelled of her usual body wash. Victoria was lying to me. And someone else had been using my bathtub. She was cheating. I checked my phone for the bath end time. It had stopped right before I arrived. My house only had one entrance. Whoever used my bathtub was still here. I smiled and moved past her toward the stairs. “Thanks, Victoria. I’m tired. I’m going to wash up.” She opened the master bedroom door for me, looking pleased with herself. “I heard the sound downstairs and knew it was you. Look, I even drew the bath for you.” I walked into the bathroom and glanced at the screen—bath mode activated. She always used aromatherapy mode. But she never wore this particular scent. Then I heard something drop. I walked back into the bedroom and stared at the wardrobe. Victoria glanced at the collectible model on the nightstand and exhaled quietly. But I wasn’t looking at that. I was staring at the wardrobe. That row of custom cabinets was big enough to hide someone. The moment my hand touched the door— “Wait,” Victoria said.

“Dylan, I brought you a gift. It’s over there.” She pointed at the model on the table. My eyes lit up. “Is this the limited edition I’ve been waiting years for?” Distracted, I turned it over in my hands. Then, while Victoria wasn’t looking, I yanked the wardrobe open. I searched left to right, top to bottom. No one. Victoria straightened the clothes inside, her voice perfectly even. “Which pajamas do you want, Dylan?” There was nowhere else to hide. Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe no one was here. I pointed to my usual set and let my guard down. Must be a system glitch. Some program starting on its own. For security, I had facial recognition cameras at the front door and a hidden camera inside pointing at the entrance. Anyone other than Victoria or me would trigger an alert on my phone. The next day, right after lunch at the office, the smart home app pinged again. “Master bedroom bathroom light has been turned on.” “Master bathroom aromatherapy bath mode activated. Please enjoy.” I pulled up the surveillance footage. Ten times speed, from the moment I left. No one entered the house. Must be a bug in the new smart home system. I told my assistant to schedule an upgrade and dismissed the notification. That evening, I had dinner with Jason, an old friend I hadn’t seen in a while. We talked about childhood dreams. I smiled and pulled up a photo on my phone. “Look what my wife brought me from her business trip.” Jason studied it. “This is a limited edition—hard to find now. Too bad about the lipstick mark on it. Kind of ruins the collectible.” I froze. Why would Victoria put lipstick on a model? It didn’t even come in a gift box. Or had she bought me a counterfeit? I video-called Victoria. When I told her, she apologized quickly. “Sorry, Dylan. I noticed my lip color looked pale and touched it up at my vanity. I don’t know anything about collectibles. I’ll get you another one.” This model was years old, nearly impossible to find. I was already grateful she’d managed to get one at all. I smiled and dropped it. Then my phone pinged again. The bathtub was in aromatherapy mode. It ended over an hour later. Victoria never washed that fast. The system really was broken. A week later, I was about to board a train for a business trip to the neighboring city when the security guard called. “Mr. Sullivan, your friend just registered your unit number and went in.” I’d mentioned that once. I didn’t expect the guard to remember, or to actually pass it along. I left the boarding gate and opened the surveillance app. Three minutes later, Victoria appeared at the front door. No one was with her. But she knocked first, waited a few seconds, then went in. I scrolled back on the camera feed opposite the door. When I reached the timestamp of her entry— A shirtless man stood inside the doorway, arms open to welcome her.

I ran out of the station, hailed a taxi, and offered the driver double to get me home as fast as possible. He pushed the speed limit. My chest ached. If I caught them in the act, what then? Would it end in divorce? We’d been together ten years—campus romance, graduation, marriage. She said she wanted to focus on career before family, put off having kids. I agreed. Our relationship had always been harmonious. She even shielded me from both our parents’ pressure about grandchildren, said she wanted me to enjoy my youth. But now I wondered—did she not want children, or had she already had them with someone else? Three kilometers from home, we hit traffic. I stared at the sea of cars ahead. Then my phone pinged. “Master bathroom aromatherapy bath mode activated. Please enjoy.” I threw cash at the driver, got out, and unlocked a shared bike by the roadside. I pedaled like my life depended on it. At the community gate, I parked and stood there, staring at the door. My mind was chaos. I opened the door and went upstairs. I slowed my steps. My lip was raw between my teeth. What if they were in my bed right now? What if she denied it? What if she didn’t? Should we divorce? How would we tell our parents? My hand rested on the doorknob. Two seconds of hesitation. I opened the camera recording and pushed the door open. “Victoria, what are you doing?” She looked up from her phone, sitting up in bed. “I was just about to call you. Dylan, aren’t you supposed to be in the neighboring city?” I stared at the lumpy blanket on the bed. “Project got canceled. I’m tired.” Victoria laughed softly and pulled back the covers. “Then come lie down, husband. I haven’t seen you all day. I missed you.” The bed was empty. He must have hidden. I hugged Victoria and breathed her in. Her scent was faint. Then I went straight to the master bathroom. The fragrance hit me immediately—someone had just bathed here. I crouched to check under the bed. Then the wardrobe. I searched every corner around the bed. No one. I looked at Victoria. “Where’s the man?” She stood and wrapped her arms around me, nuzzling my neck. “What man? There’s only you and Mary, and Mary’s on vacation.” I pulled away and searched the house room by room. Nothing. I came back to the living room, drained. Victoria frowned and pulled me onto the sofa. “You suspect me.” Her voice softened as she sat on my lap. “I’m sorry I haven’t given you enough security. Why don’t we stay at my parents’ house for a few days? Relax.” Her face was full of concern. I forced myself to relax and rubbed my forehead. “I’m too sensitive. Maybe I’m just stressed.” Victoria shook her head and lifted my chin to meet her eyes. “No, Dylan. You’re the most handsome man in the world. Don’t be anxious. Let’s wash up and sleep. Tonight I’ll hold you and give you all the security you need.” I smiled and nodded. “Okay.” Then I checked the nightstand drawer. Some condoms were missing. I grabbed a bathrobe and went into the bathroom to check the surveillance. No one had exited through the first-floor door. Or the side windows. But when I scrolled back to days before the first notification— I found footage of Victoria leaving through the main door with that man. Together. That meant—besides the main entrance—he had another way into my house.

I washed up, heavy-hearted, and put on the bathrobe. In the mirror, I saw lipstick on the collar. Bright. Fresh. I practiced my expression before going out, forcing myself not to throw the robe away. He came to my house, slept with my woman, and wore my clothes. He knew how to use my things. This affair hadn’t started yesterday. I’d been too stupid to see it until the smart home app started exposing everything. When I came out, Victoria handed me warm milk. “This will help you sleep. You worked hard today.” I forced a tired smile and hugged her. “Sorry, Victoria. I’m so exhausted I got paranoid and accused you. I’m not feeling well—I’ll probably wake up several times tonight. I’ll sleep in the guest room.” She helped me lie down, then went to the guest room without asking questions. I lay there with the bedside lamp on, staring at the ceiling. I didn’t sleep all night. In the morning, I looked at the bright bathroom lights and thought of a solution. I went out and searched everywhere, finally buying a harmless fluorescent agent. I poured it into the body wash and aromatherapy oil. Next time he bathed, he’d get it on his skin. It couldn’t be washed off without a special solution. Then I’d see where he could hide. To avoid suspicion, I waited until my usual 8 PM to go home. When the system pinged that bath mode was activated, I immediately called Victoria and said I wanted her home-cooked food. She glanced at the bathroom, her smile strained. “How about after work? If I make it now and bring it over, it’ll be cold by the time it gets to you.” I sighed and was about to stall further when a man’s scream came through the line. “Ah—it hurts! Victoria, help me!” I paused, pretending not to understand. “Was that a man? You watching TV?” She nodded quickly, her eyes darting. “The company is having an online meeting. I have to go.” I watched her hang up and smiled. This time I’d bring both sets of parents and catch her in the act. Let’s see her talk her way out of this. I led everyone into the bedroom. The bathroom light was on. Music played from a phone. Victoria’s parents held me back. “Dylan—don’t open the door. Call her out first. Give us some face. When she comes out, hit her, punish her—we won’t stop you.” I hesitated. But seeing their earnest faces, I nodded. We called her name. No response. Finally, her father steeled himself and pulled open the bathroom door. Everyone gasped. The light was on. But there was no one inside. Just a phone playing music.

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My sister signed up for a wilderness survival program, but I was too busy with my company’s IPO to accompany her. I had no choice but to ask her boyfriend, Marcus Henderson, to look after her. After the IPO bell ceremony, I drove through the night to reach the survival site, but I couldn’t find a single trace of my sister. I searched the entire mountain until I finally found her necklace in front of a household’s door. I rushed in like a madwoman and eventually found my sister at the edge of a pigsty, completely out of her mind. She was being groped by an old man who had her in his arms. He had promised me repeatedly before they left that he’d take good care of her! But now he’d actually handed over my sister—whom I valued more than my own life—to some old bachelor! Since you’ve been this vicious, then today none of you are leaving here alive! My sister had always loved outdoor activities since childhood. This vacation, she couldn’t wait to join a wilderness survival program. I initially disagreed, but her boyfriend promised he would take good care of her and absolutely wouldn’t let her get hurt, so I finally agreed. During our two months apart, my sister checked in with me on her phone every day. Everything seemed normal, except she didn’t like sending photos or videos. But I couldn’t stand missing her anymore, so right after handling the company’s IPO, I immediately came to the mountains where she was. But my sister wasn’t there, and the original campsite was empty. I was only greeted by a local villager: “Their location changes every day, and besides, there’s no signal in the mountains so it’s hard to contact them. Why don’t you head back for now?” I naturally refused: “Even if they’re training all over the place, they’ll eventually return to the camp, right? Besides, I’m not in a hurry. I’ll just wait here.” A flash of discomfort crossed the villager’s eyes: “They might not come back all night. There are lots of mosquitoes in the mountains. You’d be more comfortable going back.” My expression changed: “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? Fuck off!” I immediately headed into the mountains to find her. The villager tried to stop me, but I kicked him aside. By evening, I finally found the main group’s members. The other team members had been sitting on rocks eating roasted pork. The moment they saw me, they all jumped up in terror: “You… how did you get here?” I looked around. My sister wasn’t there. I said coldly: “Where’s Claire?” Everyone exchanged glances and fell silent in unison. From the moment I entered the mountains until now, everyone’s behavior had been too strange. I rushed to where everyone had placed their backpacks and searched carefully. Nothing. None of my sister’s belongings were there. “Where’s my sister?” I grabbed the collar of the classmate who usually had the best relationship with her and demanded answers. Her conscience finally got the better of her: “She’s… over there…” She pointed toward the deepest edge of the mountain. I rushed over with my people. When we were completely exhausted, we finally saw a dilapidated village. In front of a filthy house, my sister’s necklace lay quietly in the mud. A terrifying thought rose in my mind. I grabbed a hammer nearby and frantically pounded on the door. When I burst into the courtyard, everything before my eyes nearly made me faint. My sister sat in the pigsty with vacant eyes. Behind her, an old man was groping her chest with a lecherous expression. “Claire… Claire!!!” I couldn’t control my screaming. But Claire acted as if she hadn’t heard me at all. She blankly reached out her hands, pushing at the old man in front of her. Her belly was slightly swollen—she seemed to be pregnant. “What the hell happened!” I slapped the team leader at the front across the face. His tooth flew out from my slap, and he gasped in pain: “Marcus told us to do this. He said your sister was too stuck-up and needed this kind of experience to understand how ordinary people live.” I grabbed his collar viciously and smashed his head against a nearby rock: “Experience my ass!”

My sister’s body was so soft, like a carelessly discarded rag doll. All over her body, only her belly was hard. A bastard child lay inside. “Claire, Claire, open your eyes and look. It’s me, your sister. I’m here.” My hands, which hadn’t even trembled when signing the IPO contract, now shook like I had Parkinson’s disease. But no matter how I called out. The person in my arms showed no response. If not for her still breathing, I truly would have gone mad. “Vivian Montgomery? What are you doing here?” Behind me was the man who had promised to take good care of my sister. “Marcus Henderson, is this how you treat your girlfriend?” If Claire’s safety in my arms wasn’t more important right now, I really wanted to skin him alive. “Why are you looking at me like that? She agreed to all of this herself. No one forced her.” “You don’t know yet, do you? Your precious little sister is quite the slut when she’s underneath a man. Are you the same way as her big sister?” He laughed until the wrinkles on his nose bunched together. His phone was suddenly held up high. On that small screen. My sister was screaming as she was pinned down by a group of men with various body types, all without exception disgusting and perverted. She screamed and begged for mercy. No one paid attention. Instead, it only made those men more excited. “Why! Why are you doing this to me! I love you so much!” This foolish girl, whom I had protected perfectly for twenty years, had never experienced such unspeakable horror, let alone heard of such tragedies. Marcus laughed again: “Silly girl, of course I love you too—I love the money you spend on me. You’re so beautiful and so slutty, who wouldn’t love you?” She wanted to say something else, but Marcus waved his hand sharply: “She still has the strength to talk. Looks like you guys aren’t working hard enough.” The men received the signal and pried my sister’s legs apart. The rest, I couldn’t see. I suddenly slapped Marcus hard across the face. Marcus’s cheek immediately swelled up, and a tooth flew from his mouth. “You fucking dare hit me?” He tried to strike back but was kicked to the ground by my bodyguard. My high heel pressed down hard on his chest. Crack. A rib in his chest broke with the sound. He screamed like a pig being slaughtered. “Vivian Montgomery! You dare touch me! Do you know who my girlfriend is now! Today… today you and that little bitch aren’t leaving!” “You’ll be just like her, left here for the villagers to use for free!! Ahh!!!” Another rib under my foot broke. He could no longer speak, his bloodshot eyes glaring at me. Sometimes, ignorance is perhaps a kind of blessing. A baseball bat had appeared in my hand. I raised it high. The moment it fell on his body, a woman’s scream rang out from behind: “Grab that bitch for me!!” A series of gusts swept past me. I stood in place without even turning my head. Behind me, the sound of fists hitting flesh was particularly harsh. The harder the impact, the closer the woman’s footsteps came. “So you’re that bastard’s sister? You do look alike—the same slutty appearance.” “I was planning to deal with you when I got back, but since you’ve delivered yourself to my door, don’t blame me.” I turned around to face a face I’d seen years ago. Her?

“I remember you. When our school took graduation photos, you stood behind and to the side of Claire.” My voice held no emotion, yet it provoked her to change expression. Especially when she saw that the double number of bodyguards she brought couldn’t even get close to me. She became even angrier: “You bitch have quite the memory. That’s right, I went to high school with that slut.” “You don’t know that your sister has been seducing people since childhood, do you? Acting all proper in front of others, but swaying her ass more than anyone behind their backs. She even dared to sway it in front of my boyfriend! If she didn’t want to be fucked, what else could it be?” She couldn’t stand having the attention that belonged to her stolen away. She was born to stand at the center of all eyes. And my sister’s beautiful and intelligent existence couldn’t be allowed. “Just because of that?” My tone finally held some fluctuation, but the coldness intensified. “What the hell do you know! That bitch opposed me at every turn. My boyfriend actually praised her for being pretty? The prettiest person can only be me!” “Originally, she should have been gang-raped in high school, but that bitch got lucky. Our family had a major contract at the time, and we couldn’t afford any scandals at that critical moment. Otherwise, do you think I would have let her bounce around until now?” Recalling the past, unconcealed jealous fire burned in this woman’s eyes. So there really are people in this world who would ruin someone else’s life for such absurd reasons. “Serena, your ex-boyfriend was just blind. How could there be anyone prettier than you in the world? Besides, you’re the eldest daughter of the Walsh family. That Claire is just the daughter of some small merchant—she’s not even worthy of carrying your shoes!” Marcus endured the severe pain in his body and flattered Serena Walsh. The woman was very pleased, her fingers gently caressing his chest: “Don’t worry. That bitch treated you this way—I’ll make her wish she was dead.” I raised an eyebrow. Make me wish I was dead? She was the first person bold enough to have such an idea. “Get them!” She roared. But none of the bodyguards around her moved. “Go! Are you all dead!” She panicked. The lead man shook his aching hand: “Miss… as soon as you arrived, we engaged with the people she brought. Although we outnumber them… we really can’t beat them…” Otherwise what? The people by my side were all top-tier bodyguards in the country. This bunch of useless trash she brought, let alone all being taken down. Even if their numbers doubled, it wouldn’t be a problem. “Useless! What’s the point of having you!” “Fortunately… fortunately I made backup plans.” The moment her words fell, a man slowly walked out from behind: “This is a harmonious society. Why all this talk of fighting and killing?” The clothes on his body revealed the man’s special status. I remembered him. He seemed to be the local top official. “Look how you’ve pushed her. How inappropriate.” He turned his head to scold Serena Walsh. Serena Walsh sneered: “Yes, yes, yes. Who here would dare not listen to Director Harrison?” So when the hard approach didn’t work, they brought out someone to pressure me. “But you have to be reasonable, right? Your sister is pregnant with his child.” “You came and forcibly separated sister and brother-in-law. That’s not what you as an older sister should do.” Director Harrison’s face was full of fat, and his breath sprayed out as he spoke. Disgusting. “That’s simple. After I leave, you can give him your wife.” I didn’t want to waste words with this bunch of trash. I picked up my sister and turned to leave. But I discovered that the doorway had somehow gathered a group of fierce-looking villagers. They all held farming tools like hoes and clubs. “Today, you’re not leaving.” Director Harrison smiled as he looked at my back. He had prepared everything long ago.

“She’s a person of our village while alive! She’ll be a ghost of our village when dead!” “You can’t take her away! Damn it, they said it would be my turn next month. I haven’t tasted this slut yet! I already paid the money!” The vulgar language continued around me. I covered my sister’s ears. It seemed this village truly had no reason to exist anymore. “Director! Look what that bitch did to me! I spent all my money buying a wife, I don’t have money for the hospital. How will you compensate me!” The old bachelor saw that backup had arrived and limped to the director to complain. But he was kicked hard: “Enough. Don’t I know what you’re thinking? You want to play with both sisters. Quite the appetite.” The old bachelor grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. “Even if the people you brought can fight, they can’t match our numbers. I advise you to accept your fate. I see you have some looks. If you stay with me, I guarantee you’ll have a good life.” The director’s gaze wandered over my body, as if examining merchandise. “Just give up. Claire is ruined now anyway. Even if she gets out, no man will want her.” “Right, don’t you just want to stay with your sister? Just marry into our village, won’t that work?” The other members of the hiking group also spoke up to persuade. Sharing the crime. They were all complicit in what happened to my sister, and they knew very well they had committed wrongdoing. So no matter what, they couldn’t let me leave. “Don’t go. Stay. The director is a good man.” “Stay, stay…” These didn’t seem like the voices of young men and women, but rather death knells from hell. I indifferently swept my gaze across everyone present. What vibrant lives. Too bad they’re about to disappear from this world. “Haven’t you figured out this society yet? Justice and humanity are all fake. Only money and power are real.” Serena Walsh looked at me smugly. As if everything was settled, and I too would meet the fate of being ravaged by men. Outnumbered, I was at a clear disadvantage. The surrounding circle kept shrinking, trapping me and my bodyguards. The bodyguards’ eyes signaled to ask if I wanted to fight our way out. I slowly raised my finger. Just before it was about to fall. A familiar figure appeared. “Stop!” A woman in an elegant dress hurried over. The smile on Serena Walsh’s face abruptly stopped: “Mom, why are you here? Didn’t I tell you to wait in the car?” Mrs. Walsh glared at her, then quickly walked in front of me, staring at my face: “Have I seen you somewhere before?” At the bidding conference years ago, I had given a speech as the host. Although Mrs. Walsh wasn’t qualified enough to interact with me, she had seen me from afar. At this moment, she vaguely recalled that glimpse—I had been surrounded by everyone in the center. The famous Chairman of Montgomery Corporation… “You’re! The Chairman of Montgomery Corporation!” Mrs. Walsh’s pupils constricted as she collapsed to the ground. Everyone present was stunned.

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Before our honeymoon, my husband secretly canceled our tickets behind my back. He switched to a flight for a solo trip with the girl he grew up with. He even booked a romantic hotel. Even his buddies couldn’t stand it and tried to talk him out of it: [“Isn’t this going too far? Jasmine has been looking forward to this for so long.”] But Frederick just brushed off their advice without a care. [“It’s Lily’s birthday wish—one last solo trip together before the wedding.”] [“Jasmine always makes a fuss over these little things. It’s getting annoying.”] [“This time, it’ll teach her a lesson.”] The Lily that Frederick mentioned was the delicate girl he’d known since childhood. And I was Jasmine, the one who apparently got on everyone’s nerves. I didn’t argue or make a scene. I pretended to know nothing. Quietly, I canceled the honeymoon, bought a one-way ticket to another country. My phone lagged as the ticket cancellation page kept loading. Meanwhile, on the pink tablet, the group chat named [“Snow White and Her Seven Dwarves”] kept lighting up with notifications. I opened the chat. Lily’s profile picture immediately dominated the entire screen. [Princess]: What’s your problem? [Princess]: Every single one of you is taking Jasmine’s side. Someone who didn’t know better would think you’d all slept with her. [Princess]: Right, right, it’s all my fault. [Princess]: I’m the bitch. I shouldn’t have a birthday, and I definitely shouldn’t have wished for Frederick to go on a solo trip with me. [Princess]: I should be like all of you—Jasmine’s loyal dogs. [Princess]: You’re the real family. I’m just the outsider. Happy now? Frederick, who’d been radio silent in my messages for two days claiming he was “busy,” replied instantly in the group. He tagged the other six guys with a single [?] A row of dwarf avatars immediately backpedaled: [Our bad, our bad.] [It’s just a solo trip, isn’t it? If Princess Lily asks, forget Frederick going—] [All six of us will tag along as bodyguards.] Lily cursed them out: [Get lost. Jasmine is your real master.] Dwarf: [Jasmine? She’s nothing. They had a wedding but never registered the marriage.] [Getting dumped is practically guaranteed at this point.] I blinked, staring at this chat that was far too lively without me in it. If Lily hadn’t left her tablet in Frederick’s car, I wouldn’t even have had the privilege of witnessing this joy. I’d still be foolishly planning our itinerary, excited for our honeymoon. My phone buzzed. Finally, the cancellation confirmation popped up. I stared at the empty itinerary, silent for a long moment. Returning to the main screen, I entered a new destination and made a call. “Mom, I’ll go to Australia with you.”

On the other end, Mom immediately sensed something was wrong. After all, she’d only turned down the opportunity to go abroad because of me. “Mom, I know you have a lot of questions.” But right now, I didn’t have the emotional capacity to explain this sudden turn of events. “I’ve already made up my mind. Once I finish work and get my visa, I’ll go with you.” “I’ll explain everything then.” Mom went silent for a few seconds but ultimately didn’t press further. After hanging up, I collapsed on the couch, trying to calm the emotions surging inside me. Frederick’s buddies were right. We’d only had a wedding ceremony, never legally registered the marriage. Everything could change easily. Just like now—I didn’t need to wait for him to come home to discuss a divorce. I suppressed the churning emotions and forced myself to start packing. In the closet, the neatly pressed matching outfits seemed to mock me with their grins. I’d designed them myself for our honeymoon photoshoot with Frederick. I’d stayed up countless nights, revising them over and over, and only received the finished pieces today. Just half an hour ago, I’d been eagerly waiting for Frederick to come home so we could try them on. Now, I yanked months of hard work off the hangers and shoved everything into the trash. By the time I finished packing and wheeled my suitcase out the door, it was already midnight. The elevator doors opened. A familiar voice echoed down the hallway. “Frederick, say it!” “You’re a dog!” “Bark for me!” Through my blurred, stinging vision, I saw Frederick—who hadn’t come home in three days—carrying Lily on his back. Her face was flushed red. One hand grabbed his ear while the other pulled at his hair. She was forcing him to bark like a dog. Frederick reached up to control Lily’s flailing hands. The designer heels hooked on his fingers slipped and clattered to the floor. The sound echoed. All the lights flicked on. Frederick saw me. His hand loosened slightly, and Lily slid off his back.

“Lily’s drunk,” he said with a frown. Actually, I didn’t know why he felt the need to explain. After all, when he moved in with me, Lily bought the unit right above ours the very next day. When she showed up at our door with a grin, pulling Frederick into playful roughhousing and declaring, “I’ll always be one step ahead of you, Frederick. I’ll always be the woman who matters most to you!” Frederick didn’t explain then either. All he said was, “Jasmine, you know what our relationship is.” After all, they grew up together. Their families had watched them grow up. Once upon a time, they were everyone’s dream couple. Until Frederick changed his mind in college and actively pursued me for three whole years. He thought that was proof enough of his innocence with Lily. I’d spiraled countless times before—worrying, caring, arguing. But now, whatever happened between them had nothing to do with me anymore. I glanced away indifferently and simply said, “Yeah, understandable.” Then I started to push my suitcase toward the exit. It was clearly the answer he wanted, yet Frederick seemed displeased. He grabbed my wrist. His voice carried a trace of barely concealed mockery. “What did you say?” “I said—” I exhaled and looked at Frederick calmly. “We’re done. I’m breaking up with you.” The air fell silent for a few seconds. A low laugh escaped Frederick’s throat. “So you’re just going to keep making a scene?” “Besides… Jasmine, don’t forget—we had our wedding just last week.” “Even if you want to throw a tantrum, you should at least say divorce now.” To Frederick, both “breakup” and “divorce” seemed like joke words. He looked at me lazily, like he was indulging a petulant little girl throwing a tantrum. I had no intention of arguing with him. I tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Whatever you say.” But I couldn’t leave. A black leather shoe blocked my suitcase. My wrist was gripped tightly. He wouldn’t let go. We’d only been at a standstill for a few seconds when Lily couldn’t take it anymore. She stumbled and fell to the side. Her voice, which had been sweet and coquettish moments ago, turned into a shriek. “Enough! I can’t stand you two anymore!”

Frederick instinctively reached out to steady her, but she shoved him away. “Don’t touch me! I really can’t take this anymore! Every time she sees me, she threatens to break up, run away, get divorced. What am I, trash? Does she hate me that much?” “Frederick! Let’s end our friendship! I’m sick of living under her scrutiny!” “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have appeared in front of you two. I shouldn’t have known you since childhood or grown up with you!” As she spoke, she frantically started slapping herself. “I should just die! At least it’s better than being treated like this every time!” The warmth on my wrist disappeared. Frederick lunged forward and grabbed Lily’s flailing hands. He used both hands and feet to forcibly restrain her in his arms, stopping her movements. It all happened in just a few seconds. Lily’s eyes were bloodshot red. Both sides of her face had swollen up. Frederick held her face and looked at me with dark, heavy eyes. “Are you satisfied now?” It was always like this. The moment I showed even a hint of resistance, Lily’s depression would flare up and she’d start hurting herself. Couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t even avoid her. Before, Frederick would coax me into appeasing her. “Jasmine, you’ve had this condition yourself. You know that at times like this, you can only go along with it.” Out of basic human decency, I compromised every time, avoiding confrontation. But later, I realized something. Lily’s “condition” only flared up when Frederick didn’t side with her because of me. Her so-called depression was just possessiveness in overdrive, forcing him to choose between us. I looked down at the smug expression on Lily’s face. I nodded. “Yeah, pretty satisfied. You just moved too fast. Didn’t hit hard enough.” “Your acting’s a bit rough. Work on it next time.” Shock flashed through Lily’s eyes. She froze, about to lash out again. But Frederick beat her to it. He stood up with her in his arms and stepped toward me. His tall figure loomed over me, casting everything into darkness. The shoulders that once shielded me from the rain now carried another woman, physically blocking my way out. “Jasmine, I’ve been far too lenient with you.” Frederick’s voice was low and cold. “Lily, slap her back.”

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