Category: English

Before signing the contract with my client, I bought him a coffee. The client took one sip. An hour later, he was in the emergency room with violent food poisoning. The next day, he canceled our deal and signed with Vanessa, the very intern who had sent him to the hospital. My fiancé, Brandon, tried to comfort me. “It was an accident. Don’t blame yourself.” I nodded, feeling defeated. But then I overheard him bragging to his friends. “I slipped a laxative into that coffee so Vanessa could close the deal. This year’s Employee of the Year award is as good as hers.” “But doesn’t Scarlett need that bonus? I heard her family’s counting on it for a surgery.” Brandon scoffed. “It’s one client. If she’s any good, she’ll find another one, right?” A cold smile touched my lips. Just you wait, Brandon! Not only can I find another client, I can also find another fiancé! I refreshed Instagram. A new post flashed up. “My first home, all mine!” The photo showed Vanessa holding a house deed with a triumphant smile on her face. The comment section was filled with congratulations from colleagues. But Brandon’s comment was the one that caught my eye. “Congratulations to our future Employee of the Year 2025!” I forced a bitter smile. Last year, that title had been mine. For five years, I hadn’t taken a single day off. They all saw my desperation for money. None of them saw the weight of holding up a family alone. The medical bills piled up, suffocating me slowly. I once passed out on a subway platform, running between jobs. Brandon saw it all. Sometimes, he’d drive me home after a late shift. He’d listen when I vented about impossible clients. I never imagined he’d betray me for Vanessa. Tears tears came, hot and unstoppable, streaming down my face. At that exact moment, my phone rang. It was my mother’s doctor. “Your mother has just passed. I’m so sorry. If we could have operated soon…there might have been hope.” I don’t remember how I got through the funeral arrangements. Brandon called several times during those blurred days. But I never picked up. For the first time, he seemed anxious. He blocked my path the moment I walked into the office. “Where have you been? You never take days off.” His expression held no concern-only the cold irritation of someone who’d lost their grip. I couldn’t be bothered to respond. Seeing me about to walk away, he grabbed my arm. “What’s wrong with you? A few days apart, and you’re like a completely different person!” Before I could answer, Vanessa suddenly appeared. “Brandon, can you help me?” Brandon’s attention instantly shifted to her.

“What is it? Take your time.” Vanessa bit her lip, her voice laced with remorse and a hint of self-pity. “You know I just put down the payment on my apartment last week? I thought I had enough for renovations, but the budget just exploded. The contractors are ready to start, and I’m completely broke.” “I’ve asked everyone. No one can lend me anything. I’m so desperate, that’s why I came to you. Could you-” “Yes.” Brandon didn’t let her finish. He then dialed a number, his tone devoid of hesitation. “List that wedding house downtown for me, right now. No matter the price, it has to be sold today.” “Yes, I don’t care how much of a loss we take. I need the money urgently, the sooner the better.” Vanessa dabbed at her eyes, feigning distress, her voice choked. “How can you? Brandon!” “That house is in such a good location; it has huge potential for appreciation. It would be such a waste to sell it now.” “Besides, that’s the house you planned to get married in! Scarlett won’t agree.” After speaking, she timidly glanced at me. Seeing this, Brandon blurted out. “So what if she doesn’t agree? It’s not her house anyway.” He stood in front of Vanessa, his dark eyes glaring at me. “Scarlett, be more generous. It’s not easy for Vanessa to make a living alone in this city; we should be understanding.” “Besides, it’s not like we can’t rent a place for our wedding. I’m willing to marry you; what more could you possibly want?” I stood rooted to the spot, my blood freezing in an instant. In his eyes, I was desperate to marry him. His willingness to marry me was his greatest gift. But he never stopped to think that he was the one who pleaded with me to be his girlfriend. Even more ridiculous, he was selling our wedding house for Vanessa. I remembered when my father was in the ICU, and the doctor held a critical condition notice, asking me to sign it, saying they’d have to stop his medication if we didn’t pay. I cried hysterically, begging Brandon to lend me a hundred thousand dollars, offering to sign an IOU, even promising to work myself to the bone for him later. But what did he say then? He said, “That house is still appreciating; it’d be too much of a loss to sell it now. Besides, it’s our wedding house; selling it before we’re married would be bad luck.” Now, Vanessa just needed some renovation money, and he was selling the house without a second thought, not even a flinch, saying, “I don’t care how much of a loss we take.” It seemed that in his heart, my mother’s life wasn’t even worth as much as Vanessa’s new apartment renovations. I looked straight ahead, expressionless. “Sell it if you want. I don’t care.” A flicker of unnoticed panic crossed Brandon’s eyes. He started to say something but swallowed his words. I turned and walked a few steps, then my wrist was suddenly caught by a warm grip. Brandon’s Adam’s apple bobbed several times before he spoke, his voice strained. “I…I’ll clear out my projects these next few days. I’ll make time this week, definitely, to go see your father.” “His greatest wish was to see us get married. We can discuss wedding details then.” I looked at his earnest face, remembering that during my mother’s hospitalization, he never visited once. Even when my mother briefly regained consciousness and wanted to see him. He was either busy helping Vanessa move or taking Vanessa’s dog to the vet. In the end, my mother died without ever seeing him again. Now he was acting as if he were bestowing a favor by offering to visit. It felt like swallowing a handful of broken glass, my throat aching with the shards. “No need.” I looked at him calmly. “It’s not necessary anymore.” With that, I walked away quickly, no longer looking at him. Back in my empty rental apartment, Aunt Clara called, saying a company in another city was interested in me, willing to offer three times my current salary to poach me. She asked if I was interested. I accepted without a second thought. There was nothing left in this city for me to cling to. The next day, I went to the company to submit my resignation. It happened to be the day the CEO invited everyone out for a dinner. During the meal, someone suggested playing “Truth or Dare.”

Vanessa was dared to kiss someone in the room. Her eyes darted towards me, then she raised her finger and pointed straight at Brandon. “Brandon it is then! It’s just a game, Scarlett, don’t mind it!” The private room instantly fell silent. Once, a girl had confessed her feelings to Brandon right in front of me. Brandon, unable to directly refuse, half-heartedly accepted her flowers. The next second, I snatched them and threw them into the trash. Anyone who knew me knew I wasn’t one to turn a blind eye to disrespect. If anyone dared to mess with my relationship, I wouldn’t hesitate to make a scene. Colleagues subtly glanced my way, waiting to see my reaction. But I simply picked up the water glass from the table, drained it, then clapped loudly. “Go for it! Go for it!” I cheered, laughing, “It’s just a game, don’t spoil the fun for everyone!” My colleagues stared at me, dumbfounded, as if they were seeing me for the first time. Brandon’s gaze shifted from tentative to utterly disbelieving. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but my clapping drowned him out. Vanessa clearly hadn’t expected this reaction from me. Her coy expression froze, then quickly recomposed itself. The next second, she stood on tiptoe and planted a deep kiss on Brandon’s lips. Brandon stiffly looked at me, his eyes filled with struggle and hesitation. A few seconds later, he wrapped his arm around Vanessa’s waist, responding to the kiss. Their movements became more intense, more intertwined. Cheers erupted around us. But my ears buzzed, and I couldn’t hear anything. I remembered a long time ago, a girl secretly kissed Brandon when he was drunk. When I found out, I cried all night, my eyes swollen like walnuts. That time, Brandon held me and comforted me for a whole day. He bought my favorite strawberry cake, knelt in front of me, and swore solemnly. “Baby, I know how particular you are about physical contact, I promise I’ll never touch another girl again.” Back then, his eyes were sincere, his tone firm, giving me a strong sense of security. But now, he was passionately kissing another woman right in front of me. All those promises, forgotten. I had already decided to let go, yet the pain still tore through me, sharp enough to reach the bone. Three minutes later, they pulled apart, faces flushed. Vanessa wiped her mouth and offered a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Sorry, Scarlett. It’s just a silly game. Don’t take it seriously, okay?” Her tone was humble, but her eyes held undeniable defiance. Brandon clutched at the hem of his shirt, his knuckles white, terrified I would flip the table and cause a scene like before. I put down my forks, picked up a tissue, and wiped my mouth, my voice calm, without a hint of emotion. “It’s fine, it’s just a game. Everyone, enjoy yourselves.” Then, I smiled gently. Brandon’s eyes instantly darkened. The previous tension vanished, replaced by an indescribable disappointment. He looked at me as if I were a stranger. After my resignation was processed. I packed my bags for the move south. I remembered a wooden rocking chair still at Brandon’s new place. It was a wedding gift my mother had spent three months making for me. Now, it was her only remaining possession, a memento she left me. I had to take it with me. When entering the code, I instinctively typed my birthday. It showed an error. Thinking I’d made a mistake, I tried again, but it still showed an error. I didn’t try a third time. I pressed my thumb to the scanner. Access denied. My fingerprint had been removed. As I fumbled for my phone to call Brandon, a date flashed into my mind: Vanessa’s birthday, from her file. I keyed in the numbers. The door clicked open. Inside, rose petals were scattered across the floor, forming a path that led straight to the bedroom. From within, I heard Vanessa’s muffled moans. There they were. Brandon on top of her, moving in the dim light. They froze the moment they saw me.

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For my mother Eleanor’s birthday, I took her to a sushi bar. As soon as we entered, I saw a crowd of men gathered around a woman lying on a table. She was nude, with sushi arranged on her body. My blood ran cold as I pushed closer. It was my wife, Scarlett. Eleanor gasped and grabbed her arm. “Scarlett! How could you do something so shameless?” I tore off my jacket and covered her. “Get up. We’re leaving. Now.” Instead of gratitude, she slapped me hard across the face. “You bastard! Today is Julian’s grand opening, and you two have to ruin it? If his business suffers because of you, I’ll make your lives hell.” Around us, men were scrambling to pick up sushi that had fallen from Scarlett’s body, their eyes filled with crude desire. My mother was so enraged that her blood pressure spiked and she collapsed to the floor. I reached for my phone to call 911, but Scarlett snatched it from my hand and smashed it on the ground. “No ambulances! You’ll ruin Julian’s business.” 1 My rage soared. I slapped Scarlett across the face. “Are you blind?! Can’t you see my mother has collapsed? You disappeared to be a living sushi platter without a word-that shame was already enough. If anything happens to her, I swear I’ll see you in prison.” But Scarlett just called over two security guards, who immediately restrained me. I had no choice but to carry my mother, Eleanor, out. Yet Scarlett ordered the guards to stop us. “I told you to wait before calling an ambulance. Are you deaf? She just fainted; she’s not dying. But Julian’s bar is different. He’s invested everything. If you two jinx his opening, you’ll be to blame.” As she grew agitated, her oversized robe loosened, revealing more of her body. The men stared with renewed lust. “Damn, look at that figure. She’s a bombshell.” “No wonder her spineless husband doesn’t dare to touch her. He’s probably had his fill in bed.” “The way she’s defending her first love…I bet she’s been cheating for years.” “Typical. You can always tell.” “Haha, I’m dying of laughter!” The mocking laughter around Eleanor and me grew louder. My fists clenched. I was so furious I was about to lose control. I never imagined Scarlett would go work as a body sushi model for Julian. Before this, she had always been so conservative, so virtuous, never doing anything to embarrass me. “Get lost! Get out of my way!” “Let’s see who dares to stop us.” “Scarlett, if you love playing games so much, I’ll let you play this one to the end.” “What do you mean?” “Divorce!” With those two words, I stopped arguing with her, and carried Eleanor, rushing towards the exit. But Scarlett wouldn’t let me leave. I was surrounded by security guards. I raised my foot to kick away the person blocking me, but they outnumbered me. I was kicked to the ground. Thud! My mother fell with me. At that moment, my heart twisted with pain. I never thought I’d drag her into this. Seeing her pale and lifeless face, I was terrified and immediately screamed at Scarlett. “Call 911 for an ambulance now! My mother is-” “You still have five minutes.” Scarlett stubbornly refused to let us leave. She believed that if we went outside, we would call an ambulance from the front door, which would impact Julian’s business. At that moment, I grew to despise her even more. 2 I had completely lost control. I grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it to pieces. “You won’t let me save my mother, huh? Then I’ll smash this place instead.” “Let’s see who’s more stubborn, you or me.” If she wouldn’t let me out, I’d fight my way out. Scarlett saw the utter chaos on the floor, her chest heaving with fury. Her once beautiful face was contorted with rage. Ha. So Julian really meant that much to her? More than Eleanor’s life, more than our lives! “You’re being completely unreasonable! Your thinking is so backward. It’s just body sushi, right? Is it worth getting so worked up you could die?” “Thud!” I kept smashing things. Scarlett, furious, picked up a chair and hit me on the head. I cried out in pain and stumbled backward. When I looked back and met her eyes, they were burning with pure hatred, as if I were her mortal enemy. “Keep smashing! I’ll call the police and make you pay for everything.” “Damn it, isn’t Eleanor just faint? Well, I hope she dies from it.” The people around us were just reveling in the drama, further escalating the conflict between Scarlett and me. Not a single person stepped forward to help me, primarily because they were Julian’s friends. Another, more crucial reason was to watch Scarlett in her anger, her curves peeking out from under her loose robe. The commotion grew loud, and Julian rushed up from the first floor. “Ah! What’s going on? Why is my shop being trashed on opening day?” “It’s him!” One of the gawking men pointed at me. Julian’s eyes blazed with venomous anger when he saw me. “Alex, what the hell is wrong with you?!” “Why are you smashing my shop? Are you just determined to make my life miserable? You want to see me suffer, even if it kills you?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Whoever stopped me from getting my mother out, that’s the one who wrecked your shop.” When Julian saw Eleanor lying unconscious, not only did he not let us leave, he even praised Scarlett for her actions. “I bet she’s faking it. They must have planned this, mother and son.” “First, they come to cause trouble, then they use her ‘fainting’ as an excuse to trash my shop.” “Guards, get him!” Julian, with a malevolent stare, ordered the security guards to attack me. II shielded my mother’s body with my own, taking every blow on my back. From her tightly closed eyes, a silent tear actually flowed. The hand that had been gripping mine slipped to the floor. Scarlett’s gaze fixed on us. She was fighting herself, trying to suppress the urge to help, to stay calm and not act on her impulse. “Scarlett, make them stop!” “Eleanor is really dying! She loved you so much, why are you letting her down?!” “Don’t listen to him! It’s an act. Don’t you dare feel sorry for him.” Scarlett had wavered. She’d even taken a few steps toward us. But Julian’s words froze her in place. “Damn it, I knew you were lying.” In that moment, every shred of love and patience I had left for Scarlett turned to ash. I stood up, snatched up a shard of broken glass from the floor, and swung it in a wild arc at the guards surrounding me. They stumbled back, startled by the frenzy in my eyes. “Come on! Who’s not afraid to die? Step forward!” No one moved. They only backed away further, giving me a wide berth. I didn’t wait. I scooped my mother into my arms and ran. 3 Scarlett quickly chased after us. This time, she didn’t try to stop us. Only because the crucial opening hours were over did she finally let me find my phone and call 91

“Alex, you two go home first.” “I actually wanted to discuss it with you yesterday, but I was afraid you wouldn’t agree to me being a body sushi model!” “But do you know why?” “I owe Julian a favor. Years ago, when I was dragged into an alley and raped, he saved me. He got injuries that left him infertile, so he can’t be a father.” Julian got injured and became infertile saving her? I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of doubt, but reality didn’t give me time to think. I urgently pleaded with Scarlett to take us to the hospital, but Julian rushed out and pulled her back. “Scarlett, hurry back and help me!” “Those men said if there’s no body sushi model, they’ll leave immediately.” Did he mean he wanted Scarlett to go back and continue being the body sushi model? I thought Scarlett would refuse for Eleanor’s sake, but the next second, she became incredibly serious, as if facing a dire emergency. “Okay, I’ll go back and calm them down right now.” I quickly called out to her, but she didn’t turn around once, walking away so decisively, so resolutely. At that moment, I finally understood. The thread of our marriage had finally snapped. As I rushed Eleanor to the hospital for emergency treatment, standing outside the operating room, I was consumed by anguish and panic. Two hours later, the doctor came out and told me. “Your mother already had heart problems, which is why she collapsed from anger.” Those words struck me like a bolt of lightning. Eleanor had heart disease? I genuinely had no idea! I walked in to see Eleanor. She was awake, her face pale and filled with pain. She looked up at me, her smile frail and tragic. “Alex, my son.” “I didn’t tell either of you…because I was afraid you’d worry. Afraid you’d go begging for money, trying to save me. Afraid you and Scarlett would fight over it. So….that’s why…” She was cut off as a wracking cough overtook her. I broke down. A sob tore from my throat as I rushed to her side and clutched her hand, my heart a knot of agony. Tears fell freely, streaking down my face and onto her time-worn hands. I shook my head. “My father left when I was young. You raised me through every hardship alone. Don’t you dare talk about being a burden.” “I will save you. I will.” Eleanor shook her head, crying. “My time is up. Please, don’t do anything foolish for me again!” “It’s because of what I said years ago that you chose Scarlett and gave up your career to stay home.” “I ruined you, Alex. It’s my fault.” A fit of coughs seized her. “I just beg you…I beg you, for the rest of your life, choose your own path.” As soon as she finished speaking, her eyes closed and her hand went limp. I grabbed her hand, calling out to her. But she didn’t respond. She never opened her eyes again. Doctors rushed in. Nurses pulled me away. All I could do was pray-that she’d open her eyes, just to stay alive. Then a thought flashed through my mind: a heart transplant for Eleanor.

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The first time I had that erotic dream, I wrote it off as just a dream. Nothing more. Then I came across a post that changed everything. There, my socially reserved CEO husband was draped in women’s clothes, cradling a doll. He was turned on and whimpering. “Baby, please.” And I remembered. The faceless man from my dreams always panted those words in my ear. Last night, he’d said, “Let’s meet. I’m very famous.” I’d nibbled his ear and replied, “Prove it. Send me a photo of you in a dress, and I’ll agree to anything.” I truly thought it was just a dream. But now, my distant, seemingly woman-averse husband had posted a photo of him in a dress. I was stunned. Amelia’s POV Last night, as the dream’s heat reached its peak, the man’s teeth grazed my earlobe. His voice was low, intoxicating drug. “I want to see you, baby. Let’s meet for real.” I’d been having this dream for over a year. We were perfectly matched in my dreams, the only downside being that I’d forget his face as soon as I woke up. Even though I could feel every inch of his skin with intense pleasure, his features were always obscured as if by a mist. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t recall them. But getting pampered by a man with an amazing body in my dreams wasn’t a bad deal. Now he wanted to cross the line. He coaxed and sweet-talked me while making love, as if he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. My heart leapt, but even in the dream, I stayed clear-headed. “Prove it. If you’re serious…wear a dress. Post the photo. Then I’ll agree.” He’d told me he was very famous, famous enough that his businesses spanned across the entire continent. I didn’t believe anyone would willingly ruin their image for a dream. He seemed displeased in the dream, and I woke up feeling unsatisfied. I couldn’t help it. My background made sure of that. I’d buried my family name and wealth to claw my way into the entertainment industry as a nobody. After years of grinding, I was finally gaining some traction. I couldn’t throw everything away for a boy toy. “Amelia! Check out the trending topics!” My agent, Brenda Davis, exploded into my apartment at dawn, shoving her tablet at me. #DanielHayesCrossDressing was trending at number one. I was stunned. I tapped it. And there he was: Daniel Hayes, the famously untouchable CEO, in a selfie. He was wearing a dress, cradling a doll. Comments exploded like a wildfire. “Oh my God, Daniel’s looks can cross over! He’s so beautiful!” “So the CEO persona was fake; cross-dressing was his true nature. CEOs certainly have different tastes!” “Did Mr. Hayes lose a game of Truth or Dare?” “What’s happening? Was he hacked?” Not long after, an answer arrived, wrapped in the perfect alibi. The comment, from Celeste Monroe, read: “Daniel, your birthday gift for me is quite the surprise!” Celeste was Daniel’s childhood sweetheart. Rumors about Celeste and Daniel having an arranged marriage had circulated but were never confirmed. Now, with Celeste publicly acknowledging their relationship, netizens assumed it was their way of showing off their love. “Their love is too sweet! Mr. Hayes is throwing away his reputation for true love!” “So the rumors were true; Daniel and Celeste are getting married. They’re a match made in heaven!” “Amelia Stone is just a bitch desperate for attention, constantly stirring up scandals with Ryan, and shamelessly pretending to be Daniel’s wife. Now she’s massively embarrassed herself!” The Amelia they were talking about was me. The rumors with Ryan Scott were just marketing orchestrated by my company, but they clearly hadn’t worked. Now that Celeste had publicly claimed her love, I was the clown. My agent, Brenda, asked worriedly, “Isn’t Daniel your husband? What’s going on with him and Celeste?” “I don’t know.” My mind was reeling from the shock that Daniel was the man from my dreams; I had no mental space for anything else. Daniel and Celeste indeed had an engagement. Celeste was always flamboyant and had a good public image, so everyone naturally focused on her and Daniel. But no one knew that I was the true, legitimate Blackwood daughter, and Celeste was merely an adopted sister after I went missing. My phone rang at the most inconvenient moment. Seeing Daniel’s name on the screen, I was so startled, I threw my phone out the window. Peace at last.

Amelia’s POV Daniel and I were strangers, having only met once on our wedding day. He was forced into marriage by his family, and he wore a scowl the entire time. After the wedding, he continued to live in the small apartment provided by his company. We had no emotional connection to begin with and agreed not to interfere with each other’s lives. I, of course, approved. I just never imagined that the man who relentlessly pursued me in my dreams every night would be the usually expressionless Daniel! Could it be that I’d lusted after him for too long, which led to me shamelessly seeking him out in my dreams? His toned physique, those chiseled abs-so fit and strong. If only in real life… I slapped myself to snap out of it. Damn it! Why was my mind filled with Daniel! Brenda walked in just as I slapped myself, excitedly shaking my shoulders. “Amelia, you’re going to be huge! ‘Star Talk’ has invited you!” “Star Talk”  was the prime-time talk show, a spot reserved for A-listers. For a small-time actress like me to land an invitation, it felt like a cosmic stroke of luck. But when I got to the set, I found out the show had also invited Celeste. No one online knew my true identity; in the media’s eyes, I was just Celeste’s little protégé. Celeste was doing much better than me. She was famous, had a good personality, and great looks. She was already a household name in the industry and was willing to lower her status to help me out on various variety shows and TV dramas. In her fans’ eyes, she was humble and kind, while I was seen as malicious and jealous. As expected, as soon as the show started, the comment section was flooded. “Celeste is so beautiful!” “Amelia is pretending to be Daniel’s wife and still dares to appear at the same event as Celeste! What thick skin!” “The commenter above is right, Amelia’s fame is built on riding coattails anyway. Her fans just don’t bother to argue with her!” “Shameless bitch! Get out of the entertainment industry!” Seeing the comment section ablaze, the host smiled, pleased, and took charge. “I’m sure everyone has seen the trending topics. Today, we’ve invited the people behind the trending topic to respond to everyone.” Celeste, like a young girl experiencing first love, shyly said, “Daniel is so annoying, he wore my clothes for a photo and posted it online.” That line instantly sent netizens into a frenzy. “So Daniel was wearing Celeste’s clothes! Oh my God! They truly are a married couple!” Although Daniel wasn’t a major celebrity, with his striking features and perfect physique, he stood out among other CEOs, becoming the dream man for countless women. Celeste smiled, looking at me. Celeste had been present at the wedding, and she knew I wouldn’t go public with my relationship with Daniel. “Amelia, some netizens are questioning whether the previous reports about Daniel’s wife were self-orchestrated by you. Now Daniel’s wife, Celeste, is here. What’s your response?” The host and Celeste exchanged knowing glances; it was clear they had set a trap for me. Actually, I hadn’t planned on hiding my marriage. The day after Daniel and I registered our marriage, I posted about being married online. But Daniel’s grandfather, fearing extreme fan backlash and concerned for my safety if my identity was exposed, had the post taken down. To netizens, posting then deleting, without any clarification, became irrefutable proof that I was faking it, buying trending topics, and deliberately riding Daniel’s coattails for fame. After the host finished, Celeste set another trap for me. “Amelia, since everyone wants to know, why don’t you call Daniel and explain it to everyone?” Comments below followed suit, mocking me. “Amelia probably doesn’t even have Mr. Hayes’s contact info!” But to my surprise, Daniel called me at that exact moment. I calmly showed the incoming call on the screen to the camera, then pressed accept. “Daniel, what is it?” Seeing Celeste’s frozen smile and the screen full of question marks in the livestream, I finally felt a sense of satisfaction. On the other end, Daniel paused for a moment, his voice sounding unnatural. “To talk about divorce.”

Amelia’s POV For the first time in my life, I held the number one spot on the trending topics, and it was because of my divorce from Daniel. Brenda’s phone was ringing off the hook. Before, netizens cursed me for chasing clout; now, they cursed me for divorcing, saying I was deliberately putting on a show. Even worse, some claimed I was a third party who climbed my way up, causing Daniel and Celeste’s relationship to break down, which led to the current situation. Brenda stood up for me. “Amelia, why don’t we just announce your identity?” I gave a bitter laugh. Announce my identity? I was just an outsider, merely sharing the Blackwood bloodline. When my parents found me and brought me back, they explicitly told me, “Amelia, Celeste is your sister. We’ve raised her for so many years; we have feelings for her. You need to learn to accept her and love her as a sister.” They certainly felt they owed me, but the moment they decided to arrange my marriage with the Hayes family, that debt was considered paid. In their eyes, the Hayes family was the best possible match for a daughter. Celeste was the apple of their eye; they couldn’t bear to let her leave their side. For me, their long-lost, impoverished biological daughter, marrying into the incredibly wealthy Hayes family was a huge blessing, enough to compensate for everything. Not only did they no longer feel guilty, but they even thought I had taken a huge advantage from Celeste and should make it up to her. What would revealing my identity now achieve? It would only be another public humiliation. They wouldn’t let Celeste lose face. That evening, the Hayes family butler called me, saying Daniel’s grandfather was so enraged by the online comments that he was hospitalized. When I arrived at the hospital, I saw Daniel kneeling by the bedside, with Celeste kneeling beside him. They looked like a couple torn apart by villains. Celeste cried out, “Grandpa, I truly love Daniel. If you hadn’t insisted on separating us back then, none of this would have happened!” Then came my biological mother’s blaming voice. “It’s all your fault! If you had just let Celeste marry Daniel back then, how good that would have been! You just had to give this marriage to Amelia!” My biological mother said this to my biological father, but she forgot. When I first came back, she held my hand and spoke earnestly, “Amelia, this marriage was arranged for you when you were little. Of course, it should be you who fulfills it.” According to what I heard, when I was very young, Daniel’s mother arranged our marriage agreement. Sadly, she passed away from illness later, and her only regret before she died was not seeing us grow up. During the years I was missing, Celeste had the opportunity to marry Daniel as a Blackwood daughter. But Daniel’s grandfather and my father both insisted on waiting for my return, which led to the current situation. “You scoundrel!” “Tell me honestly, are you divorcing because of Celeste!” Daniel’s grandfather was furious, grabbing a water cup and throwing it at Daniel. Daniel didn’t dodge or avoid it, kneeling rigidly, his resolve firm. I entered before Daniel could speak. “Grandpa.” Daniel’s grandfather saw me and was both surprised and pleased, but then his old face creased into a frustrated frown, clearly helpless in the face of the situation. My mother’s face lit up with joy when she saw me. “Amelia! My dear daughter! Anyway, you and Daniel were never truly together. How about we take this opportunity to quietly get a divorce, and let your sister marry him. Publicly, we’ll say it was a prank, how does that sound? This way, everyone will be happy, and it won’t damage the relationship between the two families.” Everyone held their breath, waiting for my decision. I simply smiled faintly and placed the fruit I had specially bought for Grandpa on the table. “Grandpa, I need to talk to Daniel. Can I borrow him for a few minutes?” Daniel’s grandfather immediately scolded Daniel. “You scoundrel! Did you hear that! Amelia wants to talk to you!” Celeste stood in front of me, looking indignant. “What are you going to do to Daniel now?” I ignored Celeste, turned my head, and gave Daniel a sweet smile. “Darling, let’s talk, shall we?” Celeste’s face darkened. At the end of the hallway. Daniel followed me out. The real-life Daniel was different from the one in my dreams. In reality, he was always cold and distant towards me; our lives hardly intersected. Before he could speak, I laid out my terms. “I agree to divorce you, but I have a condition.” “You need to act like you’re deeply in love with me, and that I’m the one who’s lost interest and wants the divorce. If you can do that, we can officially divorce in a month.”

Amelia’s POV In the face of a media storm, nothing clarifies rumors better than a public display of affection. I had arranged for reporters and prepared a press release, but Daniel was nowhere to be found. Reporter Leo Miller contacted me. “Amelia, I’m helping you out as a favor to Brenda. But I heard through the grapevine that Daniel is currently at Celeste’s villa. You just cost me a front-page exclusive!” Leo Miller sent me a photo. Daniel, who was supposed to be showing up with flowers for me, was seen wearing a bespoke suit, hurrying into Celeste’s villa. I dialed Daniel’s phone. “Where are you?” Perhaps because Grandpa had forced the marriage on Daniel, I could feel that he still harbored hostility towards me. Even his voice sounded cold. “Celeste isn’t feeling well; I need to take care of her.” I reminded him, “You stood me up.” “Our agreement was merely to maintain a superficial marriage. I’ve already sent my assistant over; there’s no need to waste my time.” Daniel sent his assistant to the film set with a food truck. It was a grand gesture, with banners professing his love for me, flowers, and all the usual props for a public display of affection – nothing was left out. But the leading man himself was at Celeste’s villa. This undoubtedly made me the laughingstock of the entire internet. Celeste smugly sent me a photo of Daniel asleep at a desk. “Amelia, so what if you hold the title of Daniel’s wife? Daniel loves me; you’ll never win against me!” I had stayed awake for two days straight. And he? He just turned around and slept soundly in Celeste’s arms. “Brenda, please ask the director for half a day off for me. Don’t let anyone disturb me!” After sending the message, I locked the dressing room door. I was going to get my revenge in the dream! In the dream, the scene was like the set of an explicit film. A sensual realm bathed in soft light, an ambiguous atmosphere, even the air was thick with mist. Before I could even gather my wits, my lips were sealed. Daniel, like a starving wolf, pounced on me, pinning me to the bed. He leaned down, caressing me, constantly taking from me, his hoarse voice whispering in my ear. “Amelia, I’ve missed you so much.” Damn it, every time I’d been ensnared and drawn into his spell like this! But ever since I knew the dream man was Daniel, I’d been completely clear-headed, from head to toe. I struggled and pushed him away. Daniel’s eyes were hazy, his clothes disheveled, the passion still evident. I jumped off the bed, drawing a clear line. “From today until I find a way to sever this dream connection, I forbid you from touching me again!” Daniel clung to me like a puppy, his face full of regret, as if he hadn’t tried hard enough. “Why? If you don’t like it, you can be on top.” Even in dreams, we carried the weight of memory upon waking. This needy, desperate version of him was a stranger-nothing like the ice-cold, untouchable Daniel Hayes the world knew. I kept my distance. “You’re married! Even in a dream, I won’t be a mistress!” Panic flashed in his eyes. He dropped to his knees and hugged me. “It’s a business arrangement! A contract! I don’t love her. I’ve never even wanted her. I only love you!” His words left my heart in turmoil. Although I didn’t love Daniel either. But feelings grow over time. For the past year, we were like any ordinary couple, together day and night in our dreams. That world was just the two of us, from dusk till dawn. To say I felt nothing would be a lie. I hadn’t forgotten why I’d come to the dream realm. I raised my hand and slapped him again. Slap. “You have a wife!” I choked out, tears streaming. “I saw the photos! And you still snuck around with her with me! You’re nothing but a lying scumbag!”

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I was celebrating my son’s fifth birthday when my late husband’s brothers arrived. “You… didn’t you die in that fire five years ago?” I froze instantly. My husband was the one who died, the whole team knew it. But the new firefighter shook his head, his face etched with terror. “No, our captain didn’t die. He even showed us a family photo last week.” “He said… his current wife is his only love.” “You’re drunk! What nonsense are you spouting?!” The atmosphere at the dinner table instantly solidified. Mr. Miller, Captain Arthur Finch’s old commander, stood up, his face drained of color, clapping a hand over the young firefighter’s mouth. “He’s talking nonsense. Don’t take it to heart.” He said, forcibly dragging Finn O’Connell out. “I’m not drunk! Everything I said is true! Captain, he…” Finn’s struggling voice faded further and further away, finally cut off by the heavy thud of a closing door. A deathly silence filled the private room. Arthur’s “brothers,” the men who had come every year to celebrate birthdays with me and my son, now hung their heads, no one daring to meet my gaze. The birthday cake still held its “5” candle. My son, Leo, looked up at me with eyes strikingly similar to Arthur’s, confused. “Mom, what’s wrong with the uncles?” I snapped back to reality, forcing a smile as I ruffled his hair. “Nothing, sweetheart. The uncles are just playing a game.” I looked at Mr. Miller. He had returned, a stiff smile plastered on his face. “He’s new, doesn’t know the rules. He must have confused our captain with another captain from a neighboring city. Don’t take him seriously, please.” “That’s right, that’s right. How could there be two people who look so alike?” “Exactly. Our captain is a hero, the whole city knows it!” They tried their best to explain, but the more they explained, the heavier my heart felt. I had known Arthur for ten years, married him for three. Five years ago, the fire that incinerated half of the city’s west warehouse district also took him away. He had selflessly rushed into the collapsing inferno to save the last trapped child. They couldn’t even find his body, only his burnt, deformed wedding ring in the ruins. For the past five years, I had raised our son alone, relying on his pension and the support from these “brothers.” I always believed they were helping out of loyalty to a fallen comrade, looking out for me and Leo for Arthur’s sake. But now, it seemed things weren’t as I had thought. I raised my glass, toasting Mr. Miller. “Mr. Miller, I’m so grateful for all your help these past few years.” “Nonsense, Elara. It’s the least we could do.” He quickly raised his glass, downing it in one gulp, as if trying to conceal something. I lowered my gaze, my voice soft. “Then… what was the name of the captain he mentioned?” Mr. Miller’s body stiffened abruptly. The faces of the men next to him instantly turned ashen. “That… I can’t remember, haha. It was just a misunderstanding.” Mr. Miller chuckled awkwardly, his eyes darting nervously. The rest of the meal passed in a blur. I couldn’t taste anything. They practically fled the restaurant, making hurried excuses as they left. After I tucked Leo into bed, I watched his sleeping face, a spitting image of Arthur’s, and my heart ached with a sharp, throbbing pain. My husband was the one who died. But why would that new firefighter say such a thing? He said his current wife was his only love. What was I, then? What did my five years of mourning mean? A chilling thought began to grow wildly in my mind. I had to uncover the truth.

The next day, I made some soup and went to the fire station under the pretense of thanking them. When the crew saw me, they greeted me warmly, but beneath their enthusiasm, I sensed an uncomfortable evasiveness. I didn’t see Finn. “Mr. Miller, where’s Finn? He seemed quite drunk yesterday, I wanted to check if he’s okay.” I asked, feigning casualness. Mr. Miller was polishing a trophy on the honor wall. At my question, his hand twitched, and the trophy nearly clattered to the floor. “Oh… him? He had an urgent family matter back home. He took leave early this morning and left.” His lie was so transparent it was laughable. A newcomer, who had been transferred less than a month ago and whose family details hadn’t even been fully registered, what urgent matter could he possibly have? My gaze fell on the honor wall. There was Arthur’s black and white photo, his smile bright and his presence commanding. Below the photo, it read: Arthur Finch. I stared at that picture, a heavy, suffocating feeling settling in my chest. Next to it was a team photo of the rescue squad, taken a month before the fire. Arthur stood in the center, his arm around my shoulder. We looked so happy, so in love. But my attention was drawn to an inconspicuous woman behind him. She wore a logistics uniform, standing in the corner, her eyes fixed intently on Arthur. That gaze was filled with unabashed obsession and possessiveness. I didn’t recall anyone like her being on the team. “Mr. Miller, who is this woman? I don’t seem to recognize her.” I pointed at the photo. Mr. Miller’s face changed again. “Her? Oh… just a temporary worker. What was her name again… She left after only a few days. Not important, not important.” He quickly changed the subject, pulling me towards their newly equipped fire truck. I feigned interest, my mind consumed by the woman’s intense gaze. Back home, I rummaged through all of Arthur’s belongings. A locked tin box rolled out from the bottom of a chest. This was our “Time Capsule,” which we’d bought together before he enlisted. We’d promised to fill it with our most precious memories. He said he would keep the key, and we’d open it together when we were old. But now, he was gone. I found a hammer and, without hesitation, savagely smashed the lock open. The box opened. Inside were no love letters, no photos of us. Only a thick stack of photos and a pink diary. The photos showed Arthur and that woman. They were kissing on the beach, cuddling on a snowy mountain, smiling so brightly in every single photo it hurt my eyes. My hands trembling, I opened the pink diary. The neat, elegant script documented a woman’s disturbing obsession with my husband, and her… resentment towards me. “Why did he marry *that* woman? She’s not worthy of him at all!” “He says he loves me, so why does he still sleep in the same bed as her?” “Arthur promised me. After this mission, he’ll tell Elara everything. He said he’d give me and *our child* a family.” “Our child”… A deafening buzz filled my head, and my mind went utterly blank. Tucked into the last page of the diary was an ultrasound scan. The name written on it was “Serena Reed.” The date was six years ago. A year older than my son, Leo.

My world, in that moment, completely collapsed. The profound love I thought we had was nothing but a drama I’d played alone. The “hero” I’d mourned for five years had, behind my back, not only taken another woman but also had a child older than my own son. A wave of profound disgust and betrayal washed over me, sending me rushing to the bathroom to dry heave. I collapsed onto the cold tiles, tears silently streaming down my face. That woman named Serena Reed… I frantically searched my memory for the name. It clicked. Before we got married, Arthur had casually mentioned a neighbor from his hometown, a younger girl who had always liked him. At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it, just dismissed it as a joke. It wasn’t a joke. It was a ticking time bomb buried beneath my happy life. I wiped my tears and returned to the box. Beneath the diary and photos, I found an unsent letter. It was Arthur’s handwriting. “Serena, everything is arranged. The fire at the west warehouse will be our new beginning.” “I’ve found a way to lure Elara there. After the fire, she’ll ‘accidentally’ die.” “Then, I’ll declare myself killed in the line of duty, and assume a new identity.” “Once the dust settles, I’ll come for you and our child.” “Serena, wait for me. From now on, no one can ever separate us.” At the end of the letter, there was a crude smiley face. I stared at that letter, every word a poisoned dagger, tearing my heart to shreds. He wasn’t going to save people. He was going to kill me. He had orchestrated a massive fire, intending to burn me into an unrecognizable charred body, then live happily ever after with his mistress. So what really happened five years ago? Why wasn’t it me who died? Why was *he* “sacrificed”? I forced myself to calm down, recalling every detail of the fire five years ago. That day, I, a photographer, indeed had a shooting assignment at the west warehouse. But just before I left, Arthur suddenly called me, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. He said he had a bad feeling, like something bad was going to happen. He insisted I cancel my work and take Leo to my mother’s house for a few days, no matter what. He said he’d bought us train tickets, which were on the nightstand. I was touched by his thoughtfulness then, believing he was simply worried about me. Now, looking back, he wasn’t worried about *me*; he was trying to get *rid* of me! He needed evidence of me being “present” but couldn’t let anything actually happen to me. Because he still needed me to handle his “death” paperwork! My press pass! I had been in a rush that day and casually left my bag, containing my press pass and shooting permit, in my car. And my car was parked in the warehouse parking lot! The fire report later mentioned an unrecognizable female body found at the scene, with my documents scattered nearby. Everyone thought the body was mine. But later, DNA comparison revealed it wasn’t. The police classified it as a cold case at the time, and I, engulfed in the grief of “losing my husband,” had no energy to pay attention. He found a stand-in, then. An innocent woman, who died in my place. How utterly ruthless could this man be?! My body trembled uncontrollably, not from fear, but from a blazing inferno of rage. Arthur, Serena, and Mr. Miller… Everyone involved in this deserved to rot in hell!

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The student I’d sponsored for three years wanted a summer job, so I casually arranged for her to work at my husband’s company. A few months later, she burst into my office, heavily pregnant, tears streaming down her face as she confronted me: “I always knew you didn’t have good intentions when you sponsored me!” “Now I’m carrying Julian’s baby, and he’s suddenly vanished. Are you hiding him?” Her brother, looking absolutely furious, pointed a finger in my face and yelled: “If it weren’t for your fake kindness, how would my sister have met such a scumbag?” “He knocked her up and thinks he can just ditch her? No way!” “Either pay up, or you get a divorce and she becomes Mrs. Vance. Your call!” The news spread like wildfire, and the online comments were brutal. Everyone called me a pimp, saying I used the guise of charity to find a mistress for my husband. But I just smiled. If she actually managed to get pregnant with my husband’s child, I’d have to patent that. I was grading papers when an enraged man slammed open my office door. “Where’s your husband?! Are you hiding him?” “He got my sister pregnant and thinks he can just walk away? Dream on!” Lily Foster stood behind him, clutching her stomach, her eyes red-rimmed. A girl live-streaming on her phone was with them. I frowned. “Lily, what are you doing here?” Lily’s voice was choked with tears. “Ms. Miller, I’m desperate. Julian has gone completely radio silent, I can’t find him…” “And I have a delicate condition; the doctor said a termination would be too risky…” I leaned back in my chair, watching her calmly. “So? What kind of ‘explanation’ are you looking for today?” Derek Foster sneered. “Two options! Either Julian marries my sister, or you pay! My sister is a Harvard graduate, and your animal of a husband ruined her whole life!” The girl holding the phone immediately chimed in. “And this is Ms. Miller, a supposed educator! Using the pretense of sponsoring a struggling student to pimp her out to her own husband! Lily is so pathetic; she finally managed to escape her impoverished background through sheer academic talent, only to fall into an even worse trap!” The live chat exploded: ‘Seriously? This teacher looks so prim and proper, can’t believe she’s such a monster!’ ‘Right? The girl looks barely out of her teens, her life is over!’ A crowd of curious students had gathered at the office door, their chatter growing louder. I stood up, walked to the water cooler, poured myself a cup of water, and took a sip. “Are you done talking?” Derek was furious. “What’s with your attitude?! My sister is carrying your husband’s child!” “Impossible,” I tossed the paper cup into the trash. “The child in her belly is absolutely not my husband’s.” Lily’s eyes immediately reddened again. “Ms. Miller, I know this is hard for you to accept, but it’s true! That night, Julian got me drunk, and when I woke up… he said he truly liked me…” “Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “Julian told you himself that he liked you?” Lily nodded vigorously, pulling a stack of photos from her bag. “These are the proof, Ms. Miller, may God strike me down if I’m lying!” I glanced at the photos. The angles were strategic, but you could clearly see Julian’s profile and Lily snuggled up beside him. The hotel security footage screenshot was clear, showing a specific night three months ago. “The photos are real,” I said. Derek immediately looked triumphant. “Admit it, then! I told you…” “But the child isn’t my husband’s,” I cut him off. “Lily, you and your people leave now, and I’ll pretend today never happened. If you continue to cause a scene, I’m calling the police.”

The girl who was live-streaming immediately shrieked, “We’re the ones who should be calling the police! Ms. Miller, your husband forced a college student and got her pregnant, and you’re an accomplice!” The live chat absolutely blew up: ‘Is this teacher crazy? Caught red-handed and still denying it!’ ‘Where are the school administrators? Why is someone like this still teaching?’ ‘Lily, don’t be scared, tens of thousands of us netizens have your back!’ Several female students watching from the doorway already had tears in their eyes. “Lily is so pathetic! To be handed over to an old man by the teacher she trusted most!” “Seriously, people like her don’t deserve to be teachers!” Lily clutched her stomach, crying so hard she could barely stand. A wave of bitterness washed over me. Three years ago, I was traveling in a remote fishing village. I found Lily’s parents trying to marry her off to a fifty-something bachelor right before her college entrance exams, desperate to secure funds for the family. She knelt on the ground, clinging to me, begging, “Teacher, I want to study, please help me…” My heart softened. I not only stopped the forced marriage on the spot but also promised to help her through college. She was incredibly bright, getting into Harvard. The day she got her acceptance letter, she called me, crying, “Ms. Miller, I’ll study hard and repay you someday.” I felt so proud then. This summer, she said she wanted to earn her own living expenses. After some thought, I arranged a summer job for her at my husband’s company. I thought I was helping her. Now it seems I was digging my own grave! Seeing my silence, Lily looked up, biting her lip. “Ms. Miller, I know you and Julian have a strong relationship, but my baby is innocent…” Derek immediately interrupted, “Lily, you’re just too soft-hearted! Even if that scumbag is willing to divorce this old woman and marry you, you still need to demand a million in emotional damages!” I smiled, raising an eyebrow. “A million? Lily, you honestly think you’re worth that much?” The surrounding students gasped. “Is this teacher even human? That’s disgusting!” “Seriously! How vicious! I hope her own daughter gets treated like this someday!” “People like her shouldn’t even have kids!” Lily’s face went white, and she almost stumbled. The girl live-streaming quickly steadied her, crying into the camera, “Everyone saw that! This woman doesn’t even treat Lily like a human being!” Derek exploded in rage, grabbing the water cup from my desk, ready to smash it. I looked at him coldly. “Try it. Intentional damage to property, disturbing the peace, that’ll get you a few nights in lockup.” His hand froze mid-air. “And you,” I swept my gaze over the girl live-streaming. “Broadcasting in an office without permission, invading personal privacy. Do you want me to call security right now and get you a major disciplinary record?” The girl’s face changed. Seeing this, Lily cried even harder. “Ms. Miller, how can you be like this? I came to you because I had nowhere else to go. If Julian would just take responsibility, I wouldn’t have bothered you…” “Responsibility?” I stood up. “Responsibility for what? For something that never happened?” I walked up to her, staring into her eyes. “Lily, put your hand on your heart and tell me, is the child in your belly truly Julian’s?” Her eyes flickered for a split second, then became resolute. “Of course, it’s his!” “Really?” I smiled. “Then tell me, that night, what color underwear was Julian wearing?”

The office fell into a sudden silence. The live chat froze for a moment. Lily froze, her mouth agape, unable to utter a sound for a long time. “What? Don’t remember?” I pressed. “Or rather, you never even saw?” “I was drunk then…” she stammered. “Drunk, but you remember him forcing you?” I continued to question. “Drunk, but you’re certain the child is his?” Derek exploded. “Elara! Don’t you dare try to change the subject! The evidence is right here, and you’re still trying to argue?” “A few blurry photos are enough to convict someone?” I sneered. “So, can I just take a few random photos of you with another woman and accuse you of assault?” “You!” “And,” I cut him off, “how did you get the hotel security footage? Do hotels just hand out surveillance to strangers?” Derek was speechless. Lily quickly explained, “My roommate knows someone who helped me…” “Oh?” I looked at her roommate. “Does your family own a hotel? Or do you know the hotel owner?” The girl stammered, “My cousin works there…” “What a coincidence?” I smiled. “Your cousin just happens to work at the exact hotel where Julian supposedly forced Lily? Just happens to be able to get the footage? Just happens to be willing to risk breaking the law to give you screenshots of the surveillance?” The mood in the live chat began to shift: ‘That actually makes sense…’ ‘Yeah, you can’t just get hotel footage, right?’ ‘Exactly, if it was really assault, why didn’t they call the police immediately?’ Just then, Lily suddenly clutched her stomach and crouched down. “My stomach hurts so bad…” “Lily!” her roommate exclaimed. “This is too much! This old woman is definitely trying to provoke you on purpose! She’s jealous you’re having her husband’s baby!” Derek also pointed a finger in my face, shouting, “Elara! If anything happens to my sister or the baby, I’m coming after you!” I watched their performance with cold eyes. “Do you need me to call 911 for you?” Lily was curled up on the floor, tears streaming down her face. “Ms. Miller, why are you pressuring me like this? I just want justice…” “Justice?” I scoffed, finding it incredibly ironic. “Lily, that’s what you said when you knelt in the mud begging me for sponsorship. You said you wanted to study, you wanted a just life.” “Now I’ve given you an education, given you a chance to change your destiny, and this is how you repay me?” Her eyes darted away, afraid to look at me. “Miller! Don’t you dare try to emotionally manipulate us!” Derek roared. “So what if you sponsored her? Does that give your husband the right to abuse my sister?” I stood up. “Alright, I’ll say this one last time. First, Julian would never force anyone. Second, the child in your belly is absolutely not his!” “Third, if you continue to cause a scene here, I will immediately call the police. Charges of defamation and false accusation are not minor.” The office fell silent. The live chat comments scrolled wildly: ‘This teacher is so fierce! Her logic is super clear!’ ‘Yeah, she sounds incredibly confident!’ ‘Could there be a hidden truth to this? Maybe it’s a scam?’ Just then, Dean Peterson squeezed through the crowd and rushed in. “What’s going on?!” Derek latched onto him like a lifeline. “Dean Peterson, perfect timing! This Elara, her husband assaulted my sister, she’s over four months pregnant now, and they’re denying everything and even accusing my sister of extortion!”

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Every time Liam slept with his assistant, I’d scrawl a number in his diary. He’d ask what it meant, and I’d play it off with a sarcastic smile: “Each mark is a time you broke my heart. When it reaches a hundred, I’ll disappear.” Even when it reached ninety-nine, he didn’t take me seriously. At a hundred, I heard the rhythmic gasps echoing from his CEO office. “Sarah, let’s have a baby, okay?” My hand, poised to knock, fell uselessly to my side, the words crushing me. Back home, I ripped down all our wedding photos, a storm of resentment raging inside me. I grabbed a pen and angrily scrawled in the diary: “Liam, we’re over!” Suddenly, a line of text appeared beneath it: “Who are you? Why are you messing with my diary?” “And what does ‘100’ even mean?” Emotionally charged, I forgot all fear and replied: I’m Chloe. And it’s because you don’t love her. “This ‘100’ represents a hundred times I’ve been disappointed by you. I’m leaving you.” The words on the diary page jumped out, one by one. “You’re Chloe? You’re leaving me?” “No way! How could you be Chloe? She’s standing right next to me now!” “Who are you, really? Why can you appear in my diary?” Three questions popped up one after another, startling me so much I dropped the diary. It took me a full two minutes to calm down. I picked it up, then wrote back: “I am Chloe, a thirty-year-old Chloe.” “And I know you’re seventeen-year-old Liam.” “The future you will betray me. So, seventeen-year-old you, don’t come near me either.” The diary went silent. This magical notebook was something I’d found in the attic a few days ago, while packing my bags. My thirty-year-old husband had been drunk, yelling Sarah’s name for the thousandth time, spewing regrets about marrying me. He claimed if he’d married Sarah back then, he might have had his own child. When I opened the diary, though, I saw pages filled with seventeen-year-old Liam’s affection and unwavering devotion to me. Growing up, thanks to my looks, I always had plenty of guys chasing me. But my parents divorced early, so I never held out hope for love. I’d reject every guy who confessed, “Sorry, I just want to focus on my studies. I’m not interested in dating.” Until I met Liam. Unlike the others, he pursued me relentlessly from middle school all the way through college. Each time I rejected him, he only grew more determined. He even entered dangerous underground car races just to win me a limited-edition watch I liked. Seeing him nearly lose his life was what finally made my heart stir. And when I realized this notebook updated in real-time, I knew it was communicating with thirteen years ago. But then I remembered: two months ago, when I went to see him, I heard the sounds of him and his new assistant getting intimate on the couch in his CEO office. And that assistant was Sarah, our high school classmate, his former next-door neighbor, and childhood friend. In that moment, all our beautiful memories shattered, reduced to cruel reality, a mere illusion. From then on, I stopped communicating with the teenage boy on the other end of the diary. Because I knew, no matter how passionate the love recorded in that diary, it would ultimately lead to betrayal. Just as I was bitterly printing out the divorce papers I’d already prepared, signing my name with a steady hand, ready to follow through on my earlier promise—that if he betrayed me, I’d disappear from his world forever. A harsh tearing sound ripped across the diary page. “No way, I love her!” The pen tip, carrying the boy’s sincere feelings, carved each stroke into the paper, “I’ve liked Chloe for six whole years, how could I betray her?” “You’re lying to me, you can’t be Chloe! Who are you?” “Tell me, are you Sarah?!” Through the diary, I could almost see seventeen-year-old Liam, his face a mix of anger and stubbornness, uttering vows he would inevitably break. Back then, his love was pure and firm. He couldn’t possibly have imagined that thirty-year-old him would become so cruel and heartless. I picked up the pen to reply, but the front door suddenly swung open. The gust of wind flipped the diary page. I calmly closed the diary. Thirty-year-old Liam walked in and started rummaging through cabinets. He used to excitedly leap into my arms every time he came home, nuzzling me like a big, happy puppy. Sometimes I’d push him away, tickled, but he’d only press closer, his bright eyes whispering sweet nothings that made my cheeks flush. Now, his gaze didn’t even linger on me for half a second. After nearly ten minutes of searching, Liam still hadn’t found what he wanted. He finally turned to me, his face filled with irritation. “Chloe, have you seen the heirloom brooch my mom left me?” “Sarah’s pregnant, I need to find the brooch and give it to her. I want it to bless our family of three.” Family of three?! My heart gave a sudden, painful lurch. On our wedding day, he’d personally placed that heirloom brooch into my hand in front of all our guests, asking me to keep it safe. Liam’s brother, Owen, had been clearly displeased. “Brother, Mom’s brooch is meant to be passed down to the mother of your child. Everyone knows Chloe can’t… why would you give it to her?” Thirteen years ago, an accident had left me injured, permanently unable to have children. No one had ever dared to mention it in front of Liam, but on our wedding day, his own brother had pointed it out in public. The atmosphere instantly became excruciatingly awkward. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on me, whispers erupting. I turned my face away in shame, but Liam only held my arm tighter, giving his brother a cold glare before announcing to everyone: “Even if Chloe can’t have children, only she deserves to keep this brooch. She is my only wife, Liam’s wife.” In that moment, I’d thought I’d made the right gamble. For five years of marriage, I had carefully guarded it. But now, I gave a bitter laugh, pulling out the drawer and retrieving the velvet jewelry box. Liam snatched it from me, a wide, delighted grin spreading across his face: “Found it at last! After the baby’s born, I’ll have Sarah put it on them herself.” Only then did he bother to look at me, his eyes filled with undisguised coldness. “My mom said this heirloom only works if the mother of the child puts it on them. Now that Sarah’s carrying my child, the brooch should be with her.” “I’m taking Sarah for a check-up tonight, so I’m heading out. Our anniversary… we can talk about it when I get back.” At the door, he paused, a hint of condescension in his gaze as he glanced at me. “Don’t worry, even if Sarah and I have a child, you’ll legally always be my wife. That won’t change.” His usual game: a slap, then a sugar cube. It had been his go-to move for years. Watching him leave happily, I managed a bitter smile. He called me his wife, yet let another woman carry his child. I opened the diary again. Another line of text had appeared: “Because I waited for your reply, I wasted time and couldn’t get the spot in front of her.” I immediately grabbed our graduation photo. My blood ran cold when I saw it: 17-year-old Liam’s position had shifted. My breath hitched, and my hands started to tremble uncontrollably. Could the Liam on the other end of this diary actually change the future?

Before I could even process it, another line of text quickly appeared in the diary: “If you really are Chloe, then tell me, where did I stand in the graduation photo?” I instantly replied: “You stood to Sarah’s left front.” The diary went silent again. After waiting a minute with no reply, I picked up the pen and, with forceful strokes, wrote: “Liam, please leave my life.” “Why? If you’re really Chloe, don’t you know I like you?” He pressed so hard on that last question mark, the paper almost tore. “Like? Because of your ‘like,’ the day after the graduation photo, I was attacked by people Sarah sent and permanently lost my ability to have children!!” “And thirty-year-old you let her carry your child.” Every word I wrote brought the memories flooding back, clearer than ever. I had tried everything to forget, but countless nights, that agonizing memory would jar me awake, making sleep impossible. It had become my inescapable nightmare. Thirteen years ago, Sarah had begged Liam to stand by her for the photo, but he’d refused. Liam had stood firmly behind me, saying he’d stand with me not just then, but for our wedding photos in the future too. His burning declaration of love had made my ears flush. But a furious Sarah had found a dozen people the next day to ambush me in an alley. Liam, rushing to the scene, had gone pale with terror when he saw my injuries. He’d carried me, who was heavier than him, stumbling frantically towards the hospital like a madman. He’d given a lot of blood to save me. Although I survived, I was severely injured, permanently losing the chance to become a mother. Liam had cried, holding me, tears streaming down his face. He’d sworn a solemn oath that he would marry no one but me, and never let me suffer another ounce of harm. But I never imagined that now, he would cheat on me with Sarah, the very person who had caused me so much harm, and even let her carry his child. “Liam, promise me, if you love me, just leave my life.” “The further away the better! Can you?” “Please, I’m begging you!” Still no reply. I slumped onto the couch with the diary, drifting off to sleep without realizing it. In my dream, I saw seventeen-year-old Liam, running desperately through a dark alley. His face was panicked and anxious. A gust of wind blew a flower pot off the balcony, startling me awake. The night was already deep. Thirty-year-old Liam hadn’t come home all night, not a single call, not even a text. But Sarah’s Ins stories were updated every ten minutes, a full thirty posts. The first one showed Liam pinning the heirloom brooch to her lapel. The second was Liam and her looking through baby name books together. The third showed him pressing his ear to her belly, a look of pure joy on his face as he listened to the baby move. … Each post was flooded with likes and blessings from their friends. “Congrats, Mr. Miller! Finally going to be a dad!” “I told you Mr. Miller wouldn’t stick with Chloe. You guys didn’t believe me.” “How could Chloe be worthy of Mr. Miller? Sarah and Mr. Miller are the perfect match, made for each other.” Liam had liked every single post. Perhaps, deep down, he truly believed it. I closed Ins, then lay back on the couch, feeling lightheaded and drowsy. In my dream, seventeen-year-old Liam finally emerged from the alley. What met his eyes was me, pinned to the ground by several people, and seventeen-year-old Sarah, lunging at me with a knife. “Chloe!” The next second, Liam’s eyes turned red, and he charged forward like a madman. He grabbed a rock from the roadside with all his might and hurled it at the leader. The others swarmed him, hitting him repeatedly. Liam ignored them, clutching the blood-stained rock, using his last ounce of strength to beat back the leader. He screamed at the others, his face contorted in a snarl. “Come on, if you’re not afraid to die!” His reckless fury stunned them, and they fled in disarray. Only when their figures completely vanished from the alley did Liam collapse in front of me, trembling uncontrollably. When our eyes met, he smiled proudly, “Chloe, I told you I’d risk my life for you. Now you believe me, right?” “Liam! I don’t need you!” “Leave me!” I screamed his name, jolting awake, tears streaming down my face. Looking in the mirror, I saw the bulging veins and goosebumps on my skin. I couldn’t tell if it was fear or cold. I looked down at the diary in my arms, my mind a blur, unable to distinguish between dream and memory. Pulling up my shirt, my body suddenly froze. I frantically touched my lower abdomen.

The scar that had been with me for thirteen years was gone. Tears welled up and spilled over. I opened the diary again. Another line of text had appeared, but this time it was shaky and uneven, as if written by someone weak and exhausted. “Chloe, I protected you.” Once my emotions stabilized, I calmly wrote back: “That’s what you were supposed to do.” If not for his love. If not for the love he would inevitably betray. Why would Sarah have targeted me, causing me to lose the ability to bear life as a woman? And thirty-year-old him, now with a child by the very person who harmed me, had wounded me again. The words on the diary appeared haltingly, the strokes unclear, as if writing was a struggle. “Chloe, I’ll do anything for you. Tell me, what else can I do?” Only after seventeen-year-old Liam finished writing the last question mark did I reply: “I already told you, leave my life.” “Disappear completely from my sight. Don’t let your love now become the weapon that harms me in the future.” There was a time when everyone secretly talked about me, but Liam was there, holding my hand firmly, gently mending my broken heart. It was his love that made me fearless against all gossip and strange looks. So when he let go of my hand, and even joined those who criticized me, I was instantly pushed to the brink, even contemplating ending my life. Being hurt by the one you love, it turned out, was a thousand, ten thousand times more painful than any physical disability. You could say, the more he loved me before, the greater the pain he inflicted later. This heart of mine, already shattered by him, refused to beat again. The sound of forceful writing suddenly came through. Each word was pressed so hard, it almost tore through the page. “That’s impossible!” “Chloe, do you know? Every break time, you loved to draw by the window on the third floor of the art building. I’d deliberately take the long way around every day, just to catch a glimpse of you. Just seeing you made me so happy.” “Once, you hurt your hand while drawing. When I heard, I was frantic. I skipped class for the first time to buy you medicine, just so you wouldn’t hurt for one second longer…” “And also…” I cut him off, “I know, I know all of it.” “And another time… I slipped in the bathroom and twisted my ankle. It was you who, blushing, slipped the medicine under the door.” The diary paused for ten seconds before replying: “You know all that? How could you know?” “If you know all that, then why do you say I’ll betray you?” There was one thing he didn’t write, but I knew for sure: he was murmuring to himself, I love you so much, how could I betray you? I could imagine seventeen-year-old Liam’s face now, filled with shock and confusion. “I know these things because the future you told me. You told me everything, piece by piece, and said you regretted doing them.” Liam had said that he should have listened back then, not married a woman who couldn’t give him a “complete family.” He said it led to him suffering years of criticism for nothing. He’d also said he shouldn’t have bothered saving me back then, implying that now I was not only ungrateful but also demanding too much. He always boasted about his “sacrifices,” then did whatever he pleased in our marriage, until now, having a child with someone else. Tears dripped onto the diary, blurring the writing. Fearing I might ruin the diary and prevent changing the past, I hurriedly wiped it away. But I pressed too hard, tearing the page in half. In my panic, I suddenly found myself in a hospital room. In front of me, a seventeen-year-old boy, his abdomen wrapped in thick bandages. His face was pale, his brows furrowed in pain. Seventeen-year-old Liam, one hand clutching the blood-stained bandage, the other struggling to write, was muttering to himself. “Chloe, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you until I make you my wife…” His serious and determined expression made him look like he was undertaking something profoundly important. Just as he finished writing that, the seventeen-year-old Liam seemed to sense something. His hand suddenly stopped. He looked up, and in that instant, his clear, star-like eyes, which had long vanished from my memory, reappeared before me. His slightly dry lips parted. Before he could speak, a shrill phone ring suddenly cut through the air. Looking around, my home was a mess. All thanks to thirty-year-old Liam. The phone ring was piercing. It was thirty-year-old Liam calling, his voice commanding: “Come to the coffee shop downstairs from the office immediately. Sarah and I have something important to tell you in person.” At the same time, several lines of text appeared in the diary. “Please believe me, okay? I would never do that.” “I love you, love you so much that even if you wanted my life, you could have it.” The boy’s adoration was as pure and flawless as fresh snow. He truly believed his vows would become the most beautiful flowers, never to wither as long as he stayed by his beloved’s side. I gripped the pen tightly, my eyes downcast. Fine. If you don’t believe me, then I’ll let thirty-year-old you tell you yourself.

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During the Christmas holidays, my wife Chloe insisted that I attend her class reunion. When we arrived at the hotel, the parking lot was filled with luxury cars. Ours, by comparison, looked utterly pathetic. Before we even stepped inside, a whisper of contempt drifted my way: “I just don’t get it. Chloe used to be the a well-known figure in the school at that time. How did she end up marrying a nobody like Alex?” Hearing that, Chloe simply smiled and chatted with her classmates, as if I wasn’t even there. After dinner, Brandon, the former baseball star of our school, walked up to me and grabbed Chloe’s hand. “Alex, I’m very interested in your partner. Name your price. From now on, she’s mine.” Instead of getting angry, I let out a cold laugh. “You two better think this carefully. The cost of divorcing me is far more than you imagine..” I wouldn’t have bothered with this class reunion if Chloe hadn’t begged me to come. Figuring we’d at least spent years together, I took time off work and showed up. Never imagined that during dinner, someone would openly try to poach my wife. What chilled me to the bone even more was that Chloe actually agreed. “Long time no see, your negotiating skills have really improved,” Brandon said, leaning back in his chair, his long fingers toying with his car keys. “The money is my thanks for you looking after Chloe all these years. Think of it as compensation.” “You, of all people, dare to threaten me with jail time? Don’t you know who I am?” Just as I was about to retort, I saw Chloe lean directly into Brandon’s arms. She was wearing a vibrant red dress today, her makeup flawless, but now she looked soft and vulnerable, draped against another man. “Alex, just take the money. It’ll be better for everyone.” A sneer flickered across my face as I watched their close embrace. “Looks like you two planned this all along, didn’t you?” Chloe had called me multiple times recently, urging me to attend this very reunion. It seemed she’d conspired with the school’s most popular guy beforehand, using this opportunity to make me publicly agree to a divorce. No wonder she’d kept me at arm’s length for so long after we got married. Turns out, she had someone else in her heart all along. The moment I spoke, Chloe’s face changed. Her perfectly sculpted brows furrowed. “What nonsense are you talking about! Brandon and I have true love!” “If he hadn’t been forced to go abroad for studies back then, we would have been together ages ago.” I was utterly stunned by her words. The entire school knew Brandon had dumped Chloe back then, and now it was a story of star-crossed lovers? I wasn’t sure why they’d reconnected, but right now, Chloe was legally still my wife. A suffocating anger swelled in my chest. I couldn’t swallow this insult, no matter what. “Chloe, do you even realize the trouble you’re getting into, breaking sacred vows and forcing a divorce?” I stared into her eyes as I spoke, but she couldn’t meet my gaze. Brandon pulled Chloe even closer, adopting a protective stance. “Cut the crap. You’re just upset because you think the money isn’t enough.” “Name your price! I’m loaded!” Facing this once handsome but now smug rich kid, I felt like I was watching a pathetic joke unfold. “Brandon, just a heads-up: if Chloe agrees to this divorce today, you two are going to have some serious problems.” Before I could finish, Chloe snapped, “Stop with the alarmist talk! What can you possibly do to us?” “Since we got married, we barely see each other. Who knows what you’ve been up to outside?” “Frankly, if you hadn’t pursued me back then, you wouldn’t be getting a single cent.” If it weren’t for my unique identity, I would’ve slapped her across the face. Chloe’s words drew peals of laughter from the crowd. “See? I told you, your worth dictates the partner you can get. An inconspicuous man like Alex, with no background, is bound to lose his wife.” “Exactly! He’s dressed so simply, yet he dares to show his face here.” “When it comes to wealth and influence, Brandon is unmatched. He’s generous, and his family has serious connections.” Everyone around us fawned over Brandon, not a single person speaking up for me. In their eyes, I was just a clown for their amusement. These kinds of friends, this kind of reunion… it was better off not attending.

I ignored their snide remarks, ready to get up and leave. But before I could even stand, a hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Going somewhere? Did I say you could leave?” Brandon grinned at me, his eyes full of disdain. “Alex, today you have two choices: either take the money and divorce, or I’ll beat you until you divorce.” “Think it over carefully. Pick one.” Hearing Brandon’s words, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you sure you want me to choose?” Brandon hadn’t yet realized the mess he was making, still basking in his smug triumph. “Of course. As long as you agree to divorce your wife, I promise you a good life for the rest of your days.” I suppressed the fury bubbling inside me and spoke slowly: “I can divorce Chloe, and I don’t want the money, but…” I paused deliberately at that point. “You have to let me make a call first, because the divorce isn’t something I can decide alone.” Brandon roared with laughter when he heard me. “Alex, you really think you’re important, huh? I’m giving you a choice out of courtesy; I’m not negotiating with you.” “No matter who you call, you’re getting divorced today. Understood?” I heard the threat in his voice, but I didn’t care in the slightest. In fact, I found it somewhat amusing. “Didn’t I say? I agree to divorce Chloe.” “But this matter needs approval from those higher up. I can’t decide it myself.” Brandon’s face instantly darkened. He was about to get physical when Chloe held him back. “Darling, let’s be magnanimous. Don’t stoop to his level.” “Let him make his call. My heart’s already set on you anyway. What anyone else says doesn’t matter.” Chloe thought I was just looking for an excuse to keep her, and she looked smug. I was about to retort, but she continued: “Alex, don’t say I didn’t warn you. No matter who you call to persuade me, I am absolutely getting this divorce today.” I believed I had treated Chloe well during our marriage. Every month, I gave her my entire salary. She never worked, never did housework, spending her days shopping and playing cards. Even though we only saw each other once a year, she was still unsatisfied. At this very moment, my last shred of feeling for her vanished completely. “Chloe, don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t trying to persuade you. I just find it utterly disgusting.” “As for you and Brandon, I hope you won’t regret this after I make this call.” “When that time comes, no one will be able to save you.” I had wanted to appeal to our past friendship and talk some sense into her, but clearly, some people don’t appreciate it. Like Brandon, the rich kid beside her. “Alex, you’re still putting on airs in front of me? Who’s going to regret it more!” Brandon tried to continue, but I waved my hand, cutting him off. “Fine. Your words are enough.” With that, I pulled out my phone and dialed my boss’s number.

“Hello, Boss? It’s Alex.” On the other end, my boss’s voice was jovial. “Alex? Why are you calling me now?” “Boss, I have a situation to report.” I quickly explained how Brandon was forcing Chloe and me to divorce at the class reunion. The moment I finished, I heard the sound of a shattering glass on the other end. “Who has the audacity to force you into a divorce?!” Brandon snatched the phone from my hand. “Listen up, whoever you are! I don’t care what your relationship is with Alex. I want his wife, and no one can stop me.” “You’d better stay out of this, or you’ll be in trouble too!” My boss was stunned for a few seconds before speaking. “You’re forcing Alex to divorce?” Brandon, still unaware of who was on the line, remained utterly arrogant. “That’s right, it’s me.” “Across this entire city, there’s nothing Brandon wants that he can’t get.” “A single person? What’s that? I’ve set my sights on her, and who can stop me?” After speaking, he threw my phone to the ground and stomped on it several times. I’d never seen anyone so brazen. “Now that the call’s done, fulfill your promise.” Chloe linked her arm through Brandon’s, and with her other hand, she handed me a divorce agreement. “I’ve got all the paperwork ready. Sign it.” Looking at the stack of documents on the table confirmed my suspicions. Chloe had been cheating on me for a long time. Facing someone like this, I felt no mercy whatsoever. Without hesitation, I signed my name and handed it back to her. Chloe stared at me, surprised. “Alex, what does this mean?” I looked up at her, my voice cold. “What? Wasn’t it you who wanted a divorce from the start?” “Now I’ve granted your wish, signed the papers, and you’re blaming me?” “You should sign it quickly too, before Brandon decides he doesn’t want you either.” Chloe’s face flushed crimson from my retort. “Fine! I’ll sign it! As if anyone cares about you!” She immediately signed the divorce agreement. With that, our five-year marriage finally ended. Seeing her signature, I felt no regret, only a profound sense of relief. “I’ve signed it. She’s yours. Can I go now?” “Wait!” Brandon blocked my path, a sneer on his face. “Your business is done. Now it’s our turn.”

Hearing Brandon’s words, I narrowed my eyes. His face was growing increasingly ugly. “That snitch who got me expelled from school back then? That was you, wasn’t it?” “If it weren’t for you, my dad wouldn’t have sent me abroad, and Chloe wouldn’t have been forced to marry you.” “Alex, do you know, for three whole years abroad, I thought about nothing but getting revenge on that snitch, until Chloe told me the truth.” At this point, Brandon slammed his hand on the table. “Alex! I’ve waited for this day for a long time!” Even with Brandon’s furious outburst, a faint smile remained on my face. “You’re right. I reported you.” “But I don’t regret it. You were useless, constantly getting into fights, even breaking someone’s leg.” “People like you, I’ll report every single time I see them. No hesitation.” Brandon’s expression twisted into a snarl. “Good. I like that arrogance.” “Alex, do you know why I absolutely had to call you back here?” “This isn’t just a regular class reunion. I came for revenge.” Brandon suddenly snapped his fingers. A dozen burly men in black suits stormed into the private room. They looked well-trained. I leaned back in my chair, my fingers lightly tapping the table. “Brandon, this is your last chance. Think again.” “If you lay a hand on me today, the consequences will be more than you can handle.” “Even with all your family’s wealth, it won’t be enough…” The sycophants around us erupted in chatter. “Did you hear that? Alex actually said the Brandon family couldn’t cross him.” “That’s the funniest joke I’ve heard all my life! A nobody challenging Brandon!” “Who is Brandon? One of the city’s richest men. Dealing with him is easier than squashing an ant.” My former classmates quickly took sides, attacking me with their words. They scrambled to curry favor with Brandon. Chloe wasn’t to be outdone. “Alex, what are you shouting about? Look in the mirror and see what kind of pathetic person you are.” “Forget Brandon, anyone here could walk all over you.” I took a deep breath and slowly removed my wedding ring. “Chloe, from this moment on, we have no connection whatsoever.” “As for Brandon, he’s going to pay for his actions today.” Brandon scoffed. “You? You dare say you’ll make me pay?” “Here, I call the shots. Even if I beat you to death today, no one would dare arrest me.” Another roar of laughter filled the room. Looking at those once familiar faces, I felt utterly disappointed. This was their idea of friendship? Seeing my silence, Brandon assumed I was scared and grew even more arrogant. “Today, either get on your knees and apologize to the whole class, and we’ll forget the past.” “Or I’ll have your legs broken, and you’ll crawl out of here.” My gaze sharpened. “Brandon, you keep pushing my boundaries. Do you truly believe you’re invincible?” Brandon didn’t back down; instead, he became even more brazen. “Open your eyes and look at these men behind me. Any one of them could flatten you.” Just then, the private room door swung open. A burly man appeared before everyone. Brandon quickly straightened his collar, a fawning expression on his face as he rushed to greet him. “Marcus, Sir, what brings you here?” Hearing Brandon utter that name, everyone’s face changed drastically. Chloe even cowered in a corner. Only I remained in my seat, my fingers lightly tapping the table. Marcus’s gaze swept across the room, and everyone instantly fell silent. He spoke slowly: “Whose sleek black official sedan is parked out front?” At his words, everyone’s eyes turned to me.

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Ethan Harper is the older boy who lives next door to me, four years older than I am. During the hormone-driven teenage years, I accidentally walked in on him pleasuring himself. I have a secret I could never confess: I desperately wanted this man to touch me and…to trail his fingers slowly over my skin, to pull me close until I felt every inch of his heat pressing against me I felt ashamed of all the filthy thoughts filling my head. Not long after, Ethan Harper’s family moved away, and I never saw him again. But on countless nights, when I closed my eyes, his expression of pleasure mixed with pain would flash in my mind, along with the stifled gasps caught in his throat and the musky, sweet scent that hung in the air and made my heart race. I never imagined I would get another chance to see this man who haunted my dreams. In the pitch-black hallway, someone covered my eyes and touched me freely, but his scent and voice had already given him away. Ethan Harper, I am far more obsessed with you than you realize. But I won’t expose you. After all, the best hunters often appear as prey.

The alarm rang three times before it finally pulled me out of that blush-inducing erotic dream. I glanced at my phone: 9:27 a.m. Being late was inevitable. Feeling the sticky wetness beneath me, I sighed in resignation. Since I was already late, I might as well shower before heading to work. Steam filled the bathroom. My fingers brushing over my skin made me shiver, and I couldn’t help sliding them lower. I couldn’t hold back the sounds escaping my mouth. After about fifteen minutes, I stared at my flushed reflection in the mirror, lost in a brief daze, just as my phone rang. “Emily, are you going on that blind date I set up for the day after tomorrow or not? You’re 24 already. Can’t you let your dad and me relax a little? Your Aunt Karen’s daughter is only a year older than you and already has a kid.” Afraid I would refuse like before, the voice on the line softened. “Are you still hung up on little Ethan? With his family, his education, someone that perfect wouldn’t be interested in you. Let go of those thoughts. Dress up nicely the day after tomorrow and go on the date. Mom just wants what’s best for you.” My mind drifted back to that summer afternoon during my freshman year of college. The heat was unbearable, and I was in the mood, so I locked myself in my room to watch some adult videos. At the moment I was about to climax, I moaned Ethan’s name in a haze. I wrote it all down in my diary, including my deepest, most shameful secrets. Then my mom accidentally found it. She called me shameless for a young girl and hurled every ugly word at her own daughter. She even spread it as gossip to others. I felt like I had been stripped naked in public, pointed at like meat on a butcher’s block. How did I feel back then? Ashamed, suicidal, angry that I couldn’t control my mind and body, and heartbroken that my mom shared such a private disgrace. To avoid her bringing it up again, I agreed to the blind date.

When I clocked in at the office, my coworker Sophia pulled me aside. “Emily, where have you been? Listen, we got a new boss who just transferred in. He’s super hot and seems really nice, polite and refined. Just looking at him gives me motivation to work! Too bad you didn’t see him right away.” Sophia and I are both in the planning team. She has a wild imagination and loves exaggerating everything. Any decent-looking guy who isn’t hideous gets labeled a hottie by her. She probably spots about eighty handsome guys a day, so I didn’t take her description seriously. But that afternoon, when I saw the boss she was talking about, I froze. The face I had fantasized about countless times was right in front of me. He seemed to notice my stare and glanced my way, but he didn’t greet me. He didn’t recognize me. Of course, to him I was probably just the little neighbor girl. I tried to comfort myself, making excuses for him, but my heart still ached. The moment I saw him, it felt like a fire ignited inside me, burning all the way until I went to bed. Predictably, I dreamed of him again. In the dream, he used the hand I had once caught him with to stroke my lips, then my neck, my chest, and finally down to my stomach and into the warmth between my legs. He kissed my neck while guiding my hand to his hard, throbbing length. I rubbed the raised veins pulsing with excitement, my face burning. The size was far superior to anything I’d seen in adult videos. My mind went blank; all I wanted was to feel him inside me. I craved being filled by Ethan Harper. I knew it was a dream. I’d had this kind of dream too many times to count. In dreams, I was always bolder than in real life. I leaned down to kiss his erection. His hand pressed on my head as he called my name in the same voice I heard at the office that day. “Emily, suck harder. That’s it, baby. I love you, Emily.” Amid his words of love, I brought Ethan to climax. Ding ding ding. The alarm shattered the fantasy and dragged me back to reality. I lingered in the world with Ethan for a long time before remembering today was the blind date. Everyone has a refractory period after passion. When I was clear-headed, I hated myself for being like this. I showered as usual, put on my new white sundress, and applied subtle, elegant makeup. I have the innocent look that’s popular these days: fair skin, slim, youthful. At 24, people often mistake me for a high schooler. Thinking of what my mom said on the phone. It was probably time to open my heart and start a normal relationship. In the tenth year of using Ethan Harper as my fantasy, I decided to say goodbye to the Ethan in my heart.

The date was set at a cat café. I love cats. Even if we didn’t click, petting cats would keep things from getting too awkward. Then I saw my blind date: a guy in sunglasses, over six feet tall, dressed in black leather like he’d just come off stage at a rock festival. If Ethan was polished and courteous, this guy was the opposite extreme. He looked a bit like a bad boy. He took off his sunglasses and walked straight toward me. Only then could I see his face clearly. Objectively, very handsome, with long fingers and a strong nose. He looked like the type who would be amazing in bed. I nodded politely. “Hi, I’m Emily Harper. Aunt Karen set this up.” “Hey, I’m Jake Reed.” I was a little intimidated by guys who looked tough and unapproachable. But Jake gave off a straightforward, cheerful vibe. He blushed when I looked him in the eye while talking, nervously glancing at the orange tabby rubbing against his feet. Anyone cats like can’t be bad. I had a good impression of Jake. We chatted for a while before heading to a nearby mall for dinner. At the mall, I kept feeling like someone was watching us. I didn’t think much of it. If I saw a couple with our contrasting styles walking together, I’d probably stare too. After dinner, he suggested catching a movie. I agreed. “Anything you want to see?” he asked. “Isn’t there that new zombie flick getting great reviews?” It was super popular, so we only got awkward back-row couple seats in the corner. Jake was on my left. On my right was another couple who started making out the moment the previews began. I felt too shy to ask Jake to switch, so I just hoped their kissing sounds and cheesy lines wouldn’t last the whole film. The theater darkened, and the movie started. Barely ten minutes in, I heard soft whimpering from the girl on my right. She was trying to stay quiet, but I noticed. It was dark, especially in our corner with the sofa blocking the view, so they got bold. I saw the girl crouch between the guy’s legs. From my angle, her shoulders moved rhythmically, and I instantly realized what she was doing. After a while, she straddled him. I could even feel the sofa shaking slightly. Broken, muffled gasps reached my right ear. I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping my hands tightly. The mix of morality and voyeurism made my heart pound. A jolt shot to my core, and I shamefully got aroused. I had no idea what the movie was about because my attention was entirely on the couple next to me. On screen, survivors were being devoured by zombies, with oddly fitting orchestral music playing. In that atmosphere, I heard the girl let out a pitchy moan that blended into the score. No one noticed what they were doing except me. I saw a spurt land on the floor. They finished, but I hadn’t. I desperately needed relief. Then my hand was grabbed, and warm breath brushed my neck. My body stiffened. It was Jake.

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I saw a post on Instagram about a bar hiring staff. The place was pretty far from my apartment, but I went anyway. Because the bar was owned by Lucas Boone. My latest goal was to sleep with him. 1 I DM’d Lucas about the job posting for his bar, “Knights’ Tavern.” [Hey Lucas, your bar needs help—think I’d fit in?] Lucas replied quickly. [Having a gorgeous girl like you would be an honor. Come by tomorrow and check it out.] I met Lucas at a bar—he’s incredibly handsome, different from the usual drunk losers around him. He has this intellectual vibe that hooked me right away. The next afternoon, I stopped by his bar, but it was a total mess inside. When he saw me, he didn’t hold back. “Sorry about this, Emma. We’re finishing up renovations. Since you’re here, mind helping me put this privacy film on the windows?” “Bars work better when people can’t quite see inside—it makes them curious enough to come in, and even if they don’t love it, they might stay out of politeness. It’s all marketing.” I didn’t care what he was saying. My eyes were glued to his thighs and waist. He’s slim but works out regularly, and just looking at them made it clear how strong he is. After a few hours of work, we finally finished. Lucas told me to rest while he mixed a couple of new drinks for me to try. The dim amber lights inside made his face look even softer and more attractive as he walked over with two glasses. Lucas slid one drink in front of me. “Try this! My original creation—‘Addiction.’” I took a sip. The liquor slid smoothly down my throat—not too harsh, but it made me want another right away. “It’s really good!” I said honestly. Lucas looked thrilled, like he’d just won something, and downed his own drink in one go. He’s genuinely talented at mixing drinks—everyone who’s tried them agrees. But Lucas has zero tolerance for alcohol. He gets tipsy after just one. Sure enough, after that single drink, his eyes started to glaze over. What a perfect chance. I stood up, walked over to the hazy-eyed Lucas, lifted his chin, and pressed my lips to his. My tongue slipped into his mouth, tangling with his. Lucas quickly took control, breathing heavily as he held my head, pulling me in like he wanted to devour me. I pinched the soft spot on his waist, and he let go with a wince. “You’re drunk.” I grabbed my bag and left Knights’ Tavern. To me, men are like toys. I love watching them get seduced by me, going crazy over me. If I jump straight into bed, what’s the difference from a hookup? I thrive on that intense, teasing push-and-pull. 2 Maybe from all the built-up tension, I had a dream that night. I dreamed we were by the window at Knights’ Tavern. Lucas held me from behind, stripping off all my clothes, then spreading my long, pale legs wide in an M shape facing the street outside. People stopped to peek in, but Lucas didn’t care. He thrust hard into me from behind, over and over, until a wave of pleasure surged through my lower belly. I woke up, my thighs still trembling, the sheets beneath me soaked. I was breathing heavily, still lost in the afterglow of the erotic dream. My phone rang suddenly. It was Lucas. “Hello?” “Sorry about yesterday. I got carried away.” I stayed silent. He kept trying to fill the quiet. “I remember your place is pretty far from Knights’ Tavern. We stay open late, and it’s not safe for a girl to head home alone that late. You should rent something nearby, or if you don’t mind, you could stay with me. I’ve got a two-bedroom apartment…” “Sure.” Lucas laughed and hung up. The fish was about to bite the hook. I hoped this one wouldn’t bore me too quickly. I packed a few things, deliberately putting some sexy lingerie on top. When I got to Lucas’s place, he programmed my fingerprint into the lock and handed me a bag. “I just picked up some slippers and toiletries for you. Make yourself at home.” I glanced at the bathroom and got an idea. “Lucas, I’m all sweaty from moving. Mind if I use your shower?” Of course he didn’t say no. I purposely left my suitcase in the bedroom. Near the end of my shower, I called out like I was in a panic. He came running. “Lucas, my bra and panties are in the suitcase—you’ll see them right on top. Can you grab them for me?” His bathroom door is frosted glass with a sliding panel. I left a small gap open and stretched out my arm, still dripping with water. I’d turned on the heat lamp, and the light cast my silhouette perfectly onto the frosted door. I’m confident about my body. No way he could stay completely calm. He coughed awkwardly, then went to get them. I waited a while before he came back. I peeked out through the gap. His face was red like a ripe peach. It was the black lace set I’d carefully chosen—hollowed-out and revealing. The way his big hand gripped it made the whole thing feel erotic. He looked down and clumsily tried to pass the pieces through the gap, but I didn’t take them. Just as he opened his mouth, I slid my finger along his wrist, up to his fingertips, and took my lingerie. “Sorry, Lucas. Couldn’t quite reach.” Lucas is the type who acts proper when he’s sober. Men are all the same—they want it but pretend they don’t. 3 I changed into my bra and panties and was about to pull on a white sundress when my foot slipped. I fell hard and started crying from the pain. Lucas heard the noise from the bathroom and burst in without thinking. My dress buttons weren’t fastened yet, exposing a lot. Any other time I might have teased him more, but right now I wasn’t in the mood. My foot felt like it couldn’t move. “Lucas, it hurts!” I looked up at him, tears streaming. His gaze lingered on my chest for a few seconds before he knelt down, buttoned my dress, and scooped me up in his arms. Two steps out, he turned back to grab a fresh towel and draped it over my chest. Only then did I realize my wet hair had soaked the white fabric, making the black lace underneath completely visible. Lucas worried it might be a fracture and insisted on carrying me to the hospital. His car was parked at Knights’ Tavern—a five-minute walk even though it was close. I looked ridiculous like this and buried my face in his chest. It was summer, clothes were thin. His chest felt warm against the fabric, and I couldn’t resist leaning in and gently biting through his shirt. His body tensed, but he kept walking steadily to the car and drove to the nearest ER. Luckily, it was just a sprain. “The patient should avoid walking this week and no intense activity. You young folks shouldn’t get too wild.” I didn’t react much, but Lucas blushed deeply, quickly paid, grabbed the meds, and carried me home. He felt bad for not taking better care of me and made a huge dinner. “Have extra ribs and pork knuckles—they’re good for healing.” … That night, lying in the guest room, I got thirsty. I hopped on my good foot to the kitchen for water. Just a couple steps out the door, I saw something that made my stomach tighten—an R-rated scene. Lucas had apparently just used the bathroom and was flushing. Shirtless, he was tucking himself back into his pants when he turned and saw me. His sleepy eyes snapped wide open. “I… I forgot you were staying here! Usually no one’s home, so I don’t bother closing the door.” I pretended not to notice, turned away, and said I just wanted water. I hobbled toward the kitchen and nearly fell again. Lucas rushed over to steady me. “You didn’t wash your hands.” “Oh, sorry.” I started doubting my judgment. Lucas seemed like an innocent college guy, but the first time I saw him at the bar, my gut told me he was dangerous. Dangerous things are always the most fascinating—that’s why I wanted him.

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Three o’clock in the afternoon. Robin, a new colleague who’d just joined, suddenly tagged me in the company’s SnapChat group with hundreds of people: [That bitch at workstation 203, can you PLEASE stop typing? The noise is making me get gregnancy cramps!] [My baby is sleeping in my belly. If you give him a concussion, I’ll make your whole family pay with their lives!!] I quickly explained that I was rushing to finish a proposal due soon, and that I was using a silent keyboard. But Robin wouldn’t believe it, no matter what. I patiently explained a few times, even applying to work in the hallway to avoid trouble. What I didn’t expect was that a week later, Robin would barge into the breakroom with a kettle of freshly boiled water and pour it all over my head. I collapsed into the scorching puddle, my skin searing and tearing. Robin still kept savagely slamming my head with a high heel, screaming hysterically: “It’s all your fault! I had a miscarriage! Your keyboard noise killed my son!!” My vision blurred, and eventually, I lost consciousness—even in death, I couldn’t figure out how a silent keyboard could kill someone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Robin had cursed me in the group chat. Facing those familiar curses, I didn’t back down this time. I snapped back directly in the group: “What pregnant woman act are you putting on?! You’ve got more between your legs than a woman do!”

The moment my message hit the group, the buzzing chat, where hundreds of people had been intensely discussing proposals, fell into a dead silence. A few seconds later, Robin’s messages exploded, flooding the screen: [Stella, you rotten bitch, what are you even talking about?! I’m three months pregnant, I have the ultrasound scan right here. How dare you slander me?!] [Everyone, look! Stella from 203 can’t get pregnant herself, so she can’t stand to see anyone else have a baby!] [@HR @Mr. Davies, with someone like this in the company, I’m calling the police! This is defamation! This is a personal attack!] Robin threw a dramatic fit, and colleagues immediately jumped to their feet, their accusations all aimed at me. Chloe from the design department chimed in: [Stella, you’re going too far. How can you talk to a pregnant woman like that? Your mouth is just toxic!] Another person tried to calm Robin: [Robin, calm down, don’t get angry for the baby’s sake. Stella might just be joking.] But Robin wouldn’t let it go: [Joking? Is that the kind of joke you make? What’s there to even say to her? She’s just jealous that I married well and I’m carrying my husband’s child!] [My baby already has a fragile pregnancy! The doctor specifically told me to rest!] [And this hussy? Her keyboard clatters like a jackhammer! If anything happens to my baby, I’ll rip her to shreds first!] Other colleagues in the building also started to chime in: [Exactly, Robin said she wasn’t feeling well, can’t you just keep it down?] [It’s already afternoon, can’t you turn in that proposal tomorrow? Why do you have to bother a pregnant woman?] Watching them twist the facts, I was so angry I started to laugh. In my past life, this was how they pushed me into a corner, step by step. I explained countless times that I used a silent keyboard. To avoid bothering her, I even carried my laptop to the hallway to work overtime. But what I got in return was her dousing me head-to-toe with a kettle of boiling water, leaving me scarred and disfigured. Before I died, my skin was scalded off, my skull smashed by a high heel. Robin’s deranged face was the last thing I saw in that life. I closed my eyes, and the burning pain of boiling water poured over my head felt like it was still etched into my soul. Rage and hatred clashed in my chest. Robin was still frantically tagging me in the group: [Speechless? Why aren’t you saying anything, you bitch? Feeling guilty?] [Are you doing this on purpose? You don’t want me to have a good life, right? I finally got pregnant, and you just have to kill my son, don’t you?] [If anything happens to him, can you afford to compensate? Will you pay with your life?] “Pay with my life?” “Am I supposed to pay for the crap you’re birthing?” I stared at those words, unable to hold back my fury any longer. I recorded a voice message in a cold tone and sent it to the group: “Fine, come here now. If you dare to take off your pants in front of the entire company, I, Stella, will jump off this building right now and pay for your son with my life!”

My voice message sent the entire company into an uproar. The group chat went silent for a full minute. Then, a commotion erupted in the direction of my workstation. I looked up and saw Robin, clutching her stomach, being helped by a few female colleagues, her eyes red as she walked towards me. “Stella!” Her voice was sharp, tearful, as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice. “How can you be so malicious? What did I ever do to you that you have to humiliate me like this?” “I’m carrying a boy! He’s the only child our family has, can’t you just let him be?” The female colleagues around her immediately grew indignant: “Stella, you’re beyond cruel, aren’t you? Robin just started working here, and you’re bullying her like this?” “Exactly! Don’t you plan on having kids yourself one day? Would you want your own child cursed like this?” “Picking a fight with an unborn baby, aren’t you afraid of karma?” Robin continued to gag, acting the part perfectly, tears flowing freely as she leaned weakly on a colleague: “I’ll kill you… you ruined my reputation… I’ll kill you…” Her shrill cries grated on my ears, and even more, they triggered the memories of my past life. The thought of being brutally murdered by this gender-bending lunatic made my body tremble uncontrollably. Hearing her say she’d kill me, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I shot up from my seat, shoved the colleague next to her aside, and grabbed Robin by the collar. “Kill me? You already killed me once in my last life!” “Act! Keep acting for me! Where’s your belly? Where’s your ultrasound scan? Show it to me!” Robin was stunned by my aggression, freezing for a few seconds. Then, suddenly, she lunged at my face, claws extended. I quickly dodged, then precisely tripped her with my foot. With a *thud*, she fell face-first to the floor. Recalling the searing pain of boiling water poured over my head in my previous life, a wave of pure fury washed over me. I stomped on her back, grabbed her smooth wig, and slammed her head against the floor. “Let’s see you act now! Let’s see you pretend! Today, I’m going to see exactly what you are!” Robin was pinned under my foot, only able to let out pig-like squeals: “Ah! Help! Stella’s gone crazy! She’s trying to kill me! My stomach… my baby…” Her piercing screams attracted more colleagues. Everyone rushed forward, trying to pull us apart. I was held back by two male colleagues, my breath still ragged. By my count, I’d only been reborn for half an hour. Meaning, just half an hour ago, I had been murdered by this monster right in front of me! How could I stay calm?! But after they pulled me away, everyone pointed fingers at me, yelling: “Stella, are you insane?! This whole thing started because of your foul mouth, and you dare to hit a pregnant woman?!” “I never knew our company had such a vicious woman!” “I’ve already called security! If you try to lay a hand on her again, we’re calling the police directly to deal with you!”

Freed from my restraint, Robin became arrogant again. She was helped up, clutching her stomach, and pointed at me tearfully: “See, everyone? She’s just jealous of me! She wants to kill my baby!” She staggered towards me, raising a hand to slap me. I tried to struggle and hit back, but the male colleagues held me firmly. “You still want to fight back?! Can’t you just behave?!” Seeing me immobilized, Robin’s face twisted into a smug sneer, and her insults grew uglier: “You barren slut! You deserve to rot in hell!” Other colleagues also chimed in, accusing me of lacking empathy. Chloe, the same colleague from before, comforted Robin while vehemently saying to me: “You’re a grown woman, yet you have no shame! Getting a pregnant woman so upset over a proposal, what are you thinking?” “It’s hard enough for Robin, being pregnant and working. If anything happens to her, can you take responsibility?” I struggled to break free, shouting in rebuttal: “How many times have I explained? I’m using a silent keyboard! How could I possibly bother her? With brainwaves?” “Besides, she says she’s pregnant, but who here has seen her prenatal reports? Who has seen her husband pick her up?” My words made a few people pause, a hint of doubt entering their eyes. Robin, however, immediately pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her bag: “This is my ultrasound scan! It clearly states twelve weeks pregnant!” I scoffed: “You just said my keyboard was like a jackhammer, making your stomach hurt. Now you’re making such a huge commotion, crying and screaming, and your precious son is perfectly fine?” Everyone was taken aback. Chloe murmured to herself, “Yeah, when I was pregnant, I’d get anxious even from loud noises, let alone such a scene… Is Robin’s fetus that strong?” At that moment, security guards rushed in, and seeing the tense situation, they quickly spoke up: “Everyone, calm down! Let’s talk this out!” Robin, who had been so aggressive, suddenly covered her mouth and dry-heaved. After a moment, she weakly said: “I can’t… My stomach hurts so much… It must be because she pushed me, and I went into premature labor!” “I need to go to the hospital! If my baby is gone, Stella, I’ll haunt you even as a ghost!” I wasn’t about to let her off that easily. “Fine, let’s go to the hospital! I’ll come with you! I’ll even help you book an appointment with a urologist to check your prostate!” Robin instantly went ballistic, pointing a finger at me and screaming: “You… you crazy person! You’re slandering me! I’ll sue you for defamation!” I immediately declared to everyone: “Did everyone hear that? A simple check at the hospital will prove it. If she really is pregnant, I’ll kneel down and apologize to her in front of everyone, and I’ll cover all medical expenses!” Then, I turned to Robin: “Do you dare to go?” With that, I grabbed her, pulling her towards the exit. “Come on, let’s go now! Let the whole company see whether you’re carrying a baby or just pure malice!” All of us, me and my colleagues, stared at her, waiting for an answer. Robin’s face cycled through shades of red and white. She never dreamed that the soft target she had so easily manipulated in her past life would, in this life, become a furious, sharp-tongued maniac. She clung desperately to the office desk, refusing to budge. But then, as if an idea struck her, she suddenly collapsed onto the floor with a loud *thud*. A puddle of “blood” rapidly spread beneath her. She stretched out a trembling hand, pointing at me, her eyes filled with venom: “My baby… Stella… you killed my baby!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “328133”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #擦边Steamy #现实主义Realistic #校园School #重生Reborn #惊悚Thriller