Category: English

On the day of my brother’s engagement, the grand screen in the banquet hall suddenly displayed high-definition footage of him being kidnapped and humiliated. His fiancée broke off the engagement on the spot. Just as my brother was collapsing in despair, his childhood sweetheart, Bella, publicly proposed to him. Touched, my brother agreed. But six months after the wedding, my brother committed suicide by poison. After reading the diary he left behind, my parents brought me home from the psychiatric hospital overnight. My mother cried, begging me to avenge my brother, while my father suppressed all news and placed my brother’s body in a freezer in the basement. After reading my brother’s diary, I finally understood. The mastermind behind his kidnapping and humiliation was none other than Bella. Even the child in her womb belonged to her “white moonlight,” Julian. The redemption my brother thought he found was nothing but a complete deception! My eyes filled with ruthless determination as I clenched his diary. How dare they hurt my brother like this? I will make them pay with their lives! Chapter 1 In the dimly lit living room, my mother clutched her chest and wept. “Apart from this diary, we have no evidence to sue that beast Bella. My poor Sammy, why was he so impulsive…” My father, eyes red, smashed an ashtray. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have agreed to the marriage alliance with the Miller family back then. I harmed my son…” Through their disjointed recount, I finally understood. Five years ago, my father and the Miller family agreed to marry my brother, Sammy, to Bella’s older sister, Clara. But their childhood friend, Julian, had always loved Clara. Hearing she was to marry my brother, Julian tried to drown himself in a river. Bella saved him and promised she would never let her sister marry my brother. So, she came up with this vicious plan. She hired people to kidnap and humiliate my brother, then released the video on his engagement day. As the heir to the Miller family, Clara couldn’t possibly marry a man with such a stain. Clara indeed refused to marry my brother, and Julian got his wish to become engaged to her. To eliminate any future trouble, Bella publicly proposed to my brother. My brother’s life after marriage was actually very hard, but every time he came home to see our parents, he always pretended to be happy. Today, after coming back in a daze, he cried in my mother’s arms for a long time. Late at night, after writing his last diary entry, he took poison and ended his life. I opened the diary. The latest entry was written just before he committed suicide tonight. [Today, I overheard Bella talking to her assistant. It turns out she was the one who hired people to kidnap and humiliate me six months ago! She did this to me for Julian! Even the child in her womb is Julian’s… Why did she have to be so cruel to me… I rushed in to confront her, but she just smiled and said I heard wrong. I said I wanted a divorce. She threatened me, saying if I dared to divorce, she would tell everyone I was turned into a pervert by the kidnappers and cheated on her. Who would dare to be with me then? She said, ‘Sammy, stop making a fuss. Who else would want you besides me? You don’t want to ruin your reputation and drag down the Carter family, do you? Your parents only have two sons. Your brother is already a useless mental patient. If your reputation stinks too, what will they do?’] Bella threatened my brother that if he dared to speak out, she would bring down the Carter family. She even forced him to acknowledge that bastard child, making him wear the green hat with no way to resist. The large tear stains spreading on the paper showed my brother’s heartbreak and despair. He wrote his final words: [I’m sorry, Mom and Dad. I don’t want to drag you down. But I’m in so much pain. I’m sorry…] I stroked the tear stains on the diary, feeling incredibly irritable. I wanted to kill someone. When he was ten, my brother was beaten by the class bully. His long hair was cut off, he was covered in bruises, and his right hand was broken. The doctor said even if his hand healed, he could barely use chopsticks. The bully’s family was powerful, so they only got a verbal reprimand and paid some money to settle it. That night, I pried open the window and snuck out. When my parents rushed to the police station upon receiving the news, they saw the bully dead at his doorstep. I was covered in blood and nearly beaten to death by the bully’s parents. Seeing my parents, I grinned. “He dared to hit my brother. He dies.” They said I had intermittent explosive disorder and sent me to a psychiatric hospital. Over the next decade or so, my brother always came to visit me. He would bring various snacks and gifts and share his colorful life with me. Many times I couldn’t understand his happiness, but he would hold my hand through the bars. “I’m happy just seeing you, big brother. You too, right?” Six months ago was the last time I saw him. He was haggard but forced a smile, saying he was getting married and his fiancée would love him like I did. I never expected she would be the one to hurt him the deepest and drive him to death. “Dad, Mom. From today on, I am Sammy.” Anyone who dares to bully my brother will die. Chapter 2 Mom changed me into Sammy’s clothes and gave me the same haircut. She looked at me and cried again. I knew I must look exactly like Sammy right now. The doorbell rang. It was a heavily pregnant Bella. Seeing my parents’ expressions, a dangerous glint flashed in her eyes. “Hubby, why didn’t you answer my call? I came to pick you up.” She smiled and took my arm, probing: “Mom, Dad. Sammy and I had a fight on the way to the prenatal checkup yesterday. He got angry and ran back here…” My dad forced a smile and waved his hand. “I’ve already criticized him. Told this brat to yield to you more.” My mom took her hand, eyes red. “Bella, pregnancy is hard. If this brat makes you feel wronged, we’ll teach him a lesson for you!” Bella relaxed and smiled. “Thanks, Mom and Dad.” After a few pleasantries, she impatiently dragged me out. Mom chased after us and held my hand, her eyes seemingly holding a thousand words. “Sammy, treat Bella well!” I patted her hand and nodded. Then I got into Bella’s car without looking back. The moment the car started, the smile on Bella’s face vanished. “Smart of you not to tell your parents about those things. Sammy, as long as you obediently take care of me until I give birth, I’ll let you go. Otherwise, I don’t mind ruining you and the Carter family. Understand?” I turned a deaf ear, head down, corners of my mouth silently turning up. Seeing this, Bella sighed and held my hand. “Hubby, forget about today, okay? I’ll spend my life making it up to you. I promise. The next child will be ours. Let’s have two more, okay?” I started trembling, desperately suppressing my restless emotions. “It’s my fault. Cry if you want to, be good.” Bella thought I was sad and murmured to herself: “As soon as I give birth to Julian’s child and fulfill my last wish, I’ll live a good life with you…” I trembled even harder. Bella, I’m afraid you won’t have that chance. Just as I was about to pull out a dagger to end her, Bella received a call, yanked the steering wheel, and turned the car around. “Julian, don’t be scared! I’m coming to save you!” She drove like a maniac to a bar. I followed her in and saw a man who looked like a pretty boy being dragged towards a private room by several drunks. Bella’s eyes were about to pop out. She grabbed a bottle and rushed forward. Seeing it was her, the bar manager quickly ordered people to pull the drunks away. The leader, a dark-faced man, had his head smashed by Bella. Pinned to the ground by the crowd, he sobered up significantly. He pointed at me behind Bella and begged for mercy: “He put us up to it! Mr. Carter, you didn’t tell us this pretty boy had such backing…” The drunks pleaded with me for help. Julian threw himself at Bella, crying. “Bella, I’m so scared… did Sammy order them to teach me a lesson?” “Sammy, I know. Ever since Clara’s accident, you’ve been afraid I’d steal Bella. So you wanted to find these people to ruin me, right?” Slap! Before I could speak, Bella slapped me hard across the face. “Sammy, I didn’t expect you to be so vicious!” “You’re dirty yourself, so you want to drag Julian down too? Since that’s the case, you can take the lesson meant for him!” I was stunned. This Bella seemed crazier than me. “Didn’t you just say you wanted to live a good life with me?” “You’re not worthy!” Bella dropped this line, waved her hand, and I was pushed into the private room along with the drunks. The moment the door was locked, the dark-faced leader’s eyes turned evil. “Pretty boy, remember us?” “We played for a day and a night six months ago… Tonight, we’ll make you feel good again…” I instantly realized these were the culprits who kidnapped and humiliated my brother. Julian coincidentally found them to act, intending to hurt my brother again. Looking at the various tools prepared on the table, I smiled bloodthirstily. Great. Line up, I’ll beat you one by one. Chapter 3 The dark-faced man lit a cigarette and blew smoke in my face. “Haven’t seen you in six months, looks like you’ve bulked up. This is going to be even more fun!” I snatched the cigarette and jammed the lit end into his right eye. “Argh!” He howled, clutching his eye, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air. I kicked him hard in the groin. He instantly curled into a ball, rolling on the floor in agony. “You brat, dare to fight back? I’ll whip you to death!” The second man grabbed a spiked whip from the table and lashed out at me. I caught the whip mid-air, wrapped it around his neck, and yanked hard. He screamed, clutching his bloody neck as he collapsed. “Shit, this kid knows how to fight! Get him together!” The third man tried to grab me from behind while the fourth kicked at my stomach. I grinned devilishly, grabbed his leg, and drove my elbow down. Crack! He screamed, clutching his broken leg. I grabbed the hair of the guy behind me and threw him over my shoulder. Then I unleashed a flurry of punches, hitting them square in the face. … Ten minutes later, they were all tied up, mouths stuffed with dirty socks. I looked at my handiwork with satisfaction, rubbing my sore knuckles. It had been over ten years since I could fight so freely. The last time was when I beat up that bully. He talked tough back then too, saying I was too skinny to beat him. He didn’t know I was born with immense strength. Three punches were all it took to send him to hell. I hadn’t slacked off in the psychiatric hospital either. I bent iron bars every day for practice. Seeing the fear in their eyes, I raised the whip in my hand. “What you wanted to do to me just now, do it to each other.” Minutes later, they were lying on the ground in a heap, whimpering for mercy. Giving up so soon? I haven’t even avenged my brother yet. I smashed a few bottles of alcohol, grinning as I splashed it over the cigarette butts on the floor. As the flames rose, the men on the floor screamed and writhed like maggots. The soundproofing in this bar was indeed good; no one outside heard a thing even with the fire starting. When Bella and Julian arrived, half the bar was reduced to ashes. Four casualties. I was huddled on the street corner, face blackened, clothes disheveled, covered in blood. Seeing my wretched state, Bella muttered, “Deserved it.” Julian whispered in my ear: “You’re lucky to be alive, but next time you won’t be so fortunate.” They loaded me into the back seat. In the darkness, I trembled all over. Thinking of how those men howled in pain as I burned off their manhood. And how they begged me before they died. I was exhilarated. Next, it’s your turn. Chapter 4 I was taken back to the Miller villa. Bella ordered the private doctor: “Just dress his wounds simply.” She didn’t want to alert my parents, so she went out to make a call to cover things up. Lying on the sickbed, I heard Julian whisper to the doctor, “Remove his manhood. Make sure he can never be a man again!” They didn’t know that after years in the psychiatric hospital, I had developed a tolerance to anesthetics. After Julian was called away by Bella, I opened my eyes, pretending to have just woken up. The doctor in front of me was the same one from my brother’s diary. For the past six months, my brother had been frequently framed by Julian and suffered countless injuries. This doctor deliberately left my brother covered in scars to make Bella despise him. He held a scalpel, grinning at me. “Sir, you only have yourself to blame for offending the wrong people.” I smiled sinisterly too and pulled the curtain shut. An hour later, Julian couldn’t wait to check the results. If he had lifted the sheet, he would have found… Under the bed was a bloody dead hedgehog with all its claws broken and covered in needles. The bloody testicles on the surgical tray weren’t mine either. Bella’s voice came from outside. “Mom, why are you here?” Julian’s eyes darted around. He leaned in and whispered gloatingly: “Sammy, you’re completely ruined. Wait to be kicked out!” He pushed me out in a wheelchair. In the living room sat an elegant lady. Bella was smiling fawningly at her. “Mom, the bar fire tonight was an accident. Sammy just happened to be inside…” The lady stood up and slapped me across the face. “I knew this cheap brat was restless. Messing around before marriage, and now seeking thrills in bars after marriage.” “Our Miller family doesn’t have such a lowlife son-in-law!” I tentatively spoke: “Mom, I’m innocent…” Bella frowned. “Mom, Sammy almost died in the fire. He’s learned his lesson. Don’t scold him anymore.” She held my hand, a rare look of distress on her face. Behind her, Julian’s eyes flashed with jealousy. “The doctor just said Sammy played too hard. The tissue down there was necrotic and had to be removed…” “What?!” Bella’s mother snatched the diagnosis report, her voice shrill. “Bella, divorce this useless thing immediately and marry Julian instead of your sister!” Seeing her hesitation, her mother cried out: “Daughter! Your sister is gone. The burden of continuing the Miller bloodline falls on you alone!” “Since this waste can’t reproduce anymore, marry Julian and have more children with him!” My heart suddenly ached. Is this how they treated my brother before? Letting him be framed by Julian’s clumsy tricks. Insulting him, treating him like trash, discarding him at will. But my brother was destroyed by Bella’s own hands! My eyes turned red as I looked up at Bella. “I became like this because of you…” “You said you’d live a good life with me forever, Bella.” Bella looked torn, her gaze full of struggle. “Sammy, I have to consider the Miller family. I promise you, I won’t divorce. You can raise the children Julian and I have together, okay?” My expression darkened, eyes bloodthirsty. “Okay.” If you live that long. I threw off the blanket, stood up, and slowly walked towards the villa door. Under their gaze, I locked the door and smashed the security system to pieces with my bare fists. Bella’s face turned pale, staring at my bloody right hand. “Wasn’t your hand crippled since childhood… You’re not Sammy. Who are you?!”

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The company was expecting a major client today. I never imagined it would be my sister, Sophia, whom I hadn’t seen in six years. She froze when she saw me. “Leo, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you come home after you got out? I’ve been looking for you for years!” Every head in the office turned to stare. Annoyed, I turned to walk away. Sophia rushed forward and grabbed my right arm. A second later, her face was a mask of pure shock. Her eyes were fixed on my empty sleeve, her mind reeling. “Your arm… what happened to it?” I didn’t answer, just yanked my sleeve from her grasp, revealing the gleaming metal struts of the prosthetic frame beneath. “It’s right here.” Her eyes widened, her voice cracking. “Come home, Leo. Let’s just forget the past. We’re family.” Family? I hadn’t had one of those in a long time. … Sophia couldn’t tear her eyes away from my prosthetic arm. She opened her mouth several times, but no words came out. My manager, quick on his feet, cleared out a conference room for us to talk privately. The silence in the room was suffocating. She was the one to finally break it. “When your sentence was up, I went to the prison to pick you up. They told me you’d been released early.” I glanced at the watch on my left wrist, my irritation growing. “When did you lose the arm?” “In prison,” I said flatly. “Prison? Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you come home? Leo, I’m your sister!” Hearing her call herself my sister now felt like a sick joke. “Go back? So you can throw me back in jail again?” That one sentence stripped away her pretense. Her jaw tightened, and she was left speechless. “I’m leaving. Don’t bother me again.” When I walked out of the conference room, my colleagues stared at me in disbelief. They couldn’t fathom how a junior clerk with a prosthetic arm could possibly be connected to the heiress of the Miller Corporation. Even my boss, who usually treated me with disdain, was suddenly bustling over with a cup of warm water. Great. Looks like I’d be losing this job, too. Soon, it was time to clock out. As I stood in line, I saw the company’s CEO fawning over Sophia as they emerged from the conference room. Her eyes landed on me instantly. I quickly looked away, but then I heard a child’s sweet, innocent voice from outside. “Mommy, Daddy and I are here to pick you up!” “Sophia, Chloe insisted on coming to see you as soon as she got out of kindergarten.” My body went rigid. The man’s voice belonged to Marcus Thorne. He was once the brother I trusted most in the world. I’d recognize his voice even if he were nothing but ash. Sophia didn’t say a word, just scooped Chloe into her arms, her gaze still locked on me. Marcus followed her line of sight. The moment his eyes found me, the smile on his face froze. “Leo? What are you doing here? You’ve been in the city all this time? Why didn’t you come home? It doesn’t matter that you’ve been to prison, your family would never turn you away!” My coworkers immediately recognized him. “Sophia Miller’s husband is Marcus Thorne! You guys remember that super popular indie game, ‘Goose Hammer’? He’s the one who made it.” “Oh my god, he seems so gentle, but he’s a genius. That game made a fortune, right? Everyone was playing it.” A pang of bitterness shot through me. Thinking about that game still hurt. I said nothing, clocked out, and kept my head down as I walked out of the building. Marcus stepped forward and grabbed my arm. He flinched. Then he shoved up my sleeve, exposing the metal prosthetic. Chloe had never seen anything like it. She let out a terrified wail. But Marcus didn’t even try to comfort his daughter. His eyes were fixed on my arm, his expression a perfect picture of anguish. “Leo, you’ve suffered so much! The past is the past. You can’t go on like this. Just come home!” “Have you forgotten? We weren’t just brothers-in-law. In college, we were practically brothers!” “Even with a prison record and a disability, even after you stole from me! I could never hold it against you, Leo! Never!” In the span of a few minutes, in front of my entire office, he had twice made sure to mention that I’d been to prison. His words dripped with false magnanimity, a holier-than-thou performance that made my stomach turn. I stared back at him, taking in his designer suit, the Rolex on his wrist easily worth a fortune. No one would ever guess that this polished, successful developer, the celebrated Miller son-in-law, was once so poor he couldn’t afford a decent meal. Seeing my silence, Marcus pressed on. “Leo, are you still angry about what happened? Do you still blame your sister for sending you to prison? But you broke the law…” “Shut up,” I snapped. “You know the truth of what happened better than anyone.” “I want nothing to do with the Miller family. Leave me alone.” Sophia couldn’t hold back any longer. “Leo, why are you still so stubborn? How can you manage with just one hand? Stop pretending you’re fine. Come back, I’ll help you…” “How do I manage? For the past six years, I’ve been doing just fine.” I stepped into the elevator and left them behind. Oh, sister. I needed your help when I was in prison. Every single day, I waited for you to come and save me. Even though you were the one who threw me into that hell. I walked out of the office building, turned the corner, and slipped into the back of a black Rolls-Royce. My wife, Isabella Vance, was waiting for me. The moment I got in, she sensed the dark cloud hanging over me. I quickly told her what happened. Her face hardened with regret. “I should have gone up there myself and met your dear sister and that piece of trash. How dare they bully my husband? They’ll pay for this.” “Do you want me to handle it?” she asked. “No. I just want them to leave me alone.” She took my left hand in hers. “I’m always here.” The next day at work, everything was different. My coworkers treated me with a mixture of fear and contempt. They must have dug up the old news articles about Marcus and me. I tried to act as if nothing had changed, but my boss, practically groveling, a sycophantic grin plastered on his face, asked me to deliver a file to the Miller Corporation. I didn’t want to go, but I also didn’t want to be accused of throwing my weight around. After a moment’s thought, I took the file and went. I hadn’t been back in six years. Most of the employees were new faces. But a few of the older staff members recognized me. They stood up immediately, bowing their heads respectfully. “Mr. Miller. It’s been a long time.” I ignored them and went straight to Sophia’s office. I knew this was her doing. “Leo, you’re a Miller,” she said, the moment I walked in. “What will people think if they find out you’re working as a clerk in some small firm? What about the family’s reputation?” “The family’s reputation?” I scoffed, my fingers unconsciously brushing against my empty sleeve. “Wasn’t that destroyed six years ago?” Six years ago, Leo Miller was the pride of the family. I was a prodigy, a celebrated game developer at eighteen. My first indie game had topped the charts in both sales and reviews. My sister adored me, my parents doted on me. I’d been accepted into MIT. I had everything. I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world. Until I met my college roommate, Marcus Thorne. His poverty was glaring. His clothes were faded and patched. He showed up to the dorms without even a blanket, let alone the money for tuition. My privileged, sheltered heart overflowed with a naive desire to help. The feeling of being his savior was intoxicating. I gave him everything without a second thought. I paid his tuition, bought him new clothes and bedding, and loaded his meal card with thousands of dollars. I brought him into my life, introduced him to my parents, my sister, all my friends. I even taught him how to code, how to design games, guiding him every step of the way. Marcus was smart. He was also gentle, a stark contrast to my own fiery, proud nature. He knew how to charm my parents, how to play the part of the meek, grateful friend in front of my sister, earning her sympathy and affection. I had been basking in happiness for so long that I’d become blind to the subtle shifts around me. I don’t know when it started, but my friends stopped calling me. They were all hanging out with Marcus now. My sister began pursuing Marcus relentlessly, showering him with expensive gifts, calling our dorm room every night to talk to him. She forgot my birthday for the first time in my life and went a month without contacting me once. Even my father seemed to know all of Marcus’s favorite foods. My mother, who used to fuss over me, now only worried about whether Marcus was eating well, inviting him home every weekend for a home-cooked meal. I finally blew up at them, asking why they were shutting me out. They told me I was overthinking it. “Marcus has been through so much, and you’re competing with him for a little attention? You’re being selfish, Leo!” That summer, I came home to the Miller estate to find it empty. The butler awkwardly explained that my father, mother, and sister had taken Marcus on a vacation to Europe. Not a single one of them had thought to tell me. I stood there, stunned, before trashing my room in a fit of grief and rage. It felt like my world was collapsing. But all I got in return was more scorn from my family. “You’re becoming more and more immature. Marcus has no one. He’s never been out of the country. What’s the big deal about us taking him on one trip?” my mother chided. For the first time in my life, my father slapped me. “Leo, you’ve been the golden boy of this family your whole life. Can’t you be a little more generous? He’s going to be your brother-in-law. What’s wrong with us treating him well?” My sister, too, spoke to me with a harshness I’d never heard before. I never once objected to her dating Marcus. But I didn’t understand why welcoming him into the family meant casting me out. Was the vast Miller estate not big enough for both of us? Sophia’s ringing phone pulled me from my reverie. She took the file from my hand while ending the call. “That was Dad. He wants you to come home tomorrow.” I hesitated. The memory of my father’s love before all this, tangled with the memory of his cruelty after, was a confusing knot. I couldn’t remember which version was real. But I nodded. The next day, I showed up at the Miller estate in jeans and a T-shirt. I realized immediately this wasn’t a simple family meeting. It was a lavish gala celebrating Marcus. After the massive success of “Goose Hammer,” he’d launched his own game studio, “Thorne Studios.” And now, the Vance Corporation—the most powerful conglomerate in the country—was acquiring it. Even a small connection to the Vance Corporation was a huge boost to the Miller family’s prestige. The estate was decked out in gold and glitter. Guests mingled in designer gowns and bespoke suits. And then there was me, completely out of place in my casual clothes. I’d been played again. “Leo,” Marcus’s voice hissed from behind me. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up.” “It’s been six years. Why are you even here? There’s no place for you in this family anymore. Your sister sees me as the love of her life. Your parents wish I was their son…” I laughed coldly. “A pity you’re not. You’ll always be nothing but a common thief.” His face darkened. Just as he was about to retort, my mother, Eleanor, made her grand entrance. Marcus, holding his daughter’s hand, rushed to greet her. My mother beamed at her son-in-law and granddaughter. The moment her eyes landed on me, her smile vanished. Her eyes held no shock, no flicker of joy at seeing her long-lost son. Only cold, undisguised contempt. Sophia dragged me in front of her. “Mom, I found Leo. He hasn’t been doing well. He should come home.” “Just give him some money,” my mother said dismissively. “Look at the state of him. Why would we want him back here, embarrassing us?” Even though I’d expected it, the words still stung. My mother glanced at my prosthetic arm with disgust. Marcus, standing beside her, couldn’t hide a smug smile. “Marcus just closed the deal with the Vance Corporation. Don’t let this piece of trash stir up trouble.” “Mom,” I said. The word felt foreign on my tongue after six years. “Let’s just go our separate ways from now on.” “Goodbye, Mrs. Miller.” The change in address solidified it. My heart was finally dead to them. I turned and walked away, but tears of frustration still pricked my eyes. My mother used to love me so much. She used to be more excited than I was whenever one of my games was released. Until Marcus. Until that press conference that changed my life. “Goose Hammer.” It was my creation. After my family had turned on me, I’d poured all my pain and frustration into my work, spending sleepless nights creating that game. The launch event was a huge deal. The venue was packed with journalists and fans. My sister, my mother, and Marcus were all in the front row. As I spoke with the host on stage, I saw my mother lovingly squeeze Marcus’s hand, whispering and smiling with him. It was a tenderness she hadn’t shown me in a very long time. The presentation was going smoothly. But just as I was about to unveil the gameplay trailer—the highlight of the event—Marcus suddenly stormed the stage. His eyes were red-rimmed, his voice thick with emotion. The host, as if on cue, smoothly handed him the microphone. “Leo, I don’t care that you stole my ideas!” he cried out. “I don’t care that you stole my code!” “I don’t even care that you’re passing this game off as your own!” “But how could you deceive all these fans? They love you, they trust you, and you betrayed that trust! That, I cannot forgive!” The crowd gasped. I was stunned. But not my mother and sister. They sat there, their expressions perfectly calm. Flashbulbs popped as cameras recorded Marcus presenting his “evidence”—all of it precise, damning, and utterly fabricated. My code, my design documents, my concept art… all of it was now his. He had stolen everything from my computer. But I had been careful. The only people who knew my password, besides me, were my mother and my sister. “That’s not true!” I stammered, my voice lost in the chaos. No one listened. The launch was cancelled. My investors sued me for a staggering amount in damages. I was crucified online, a pariah overnight. I was losing my mind. Then I came home and saw my sister and Marcus locked in a passionate kiss. “Why?” I screamed at him. “You could have just been the Miller son-in-law. Why did you have to destroy me?” My mother rushed in and slapped me hard across the face.

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1 The first person I saw from my old life after leaving Northwood was Rosalind. It was a heavy snow day. She walked into my little bakeshop, her belly slightly rounded with pregnancy, and ordered a slice of matcha mousse. The reunion was so sudden it stunned us both into silence. We stared at each other for a long moment before finally managing a greeting. She asked me why I’d gotten into baking. I told her it was something I loved. She took the neatly packaged cake box from my hands but didn’t leave, her figure hesitating by the door. The snow fell in a quiet, thick blanket outside. I thought she was just watching it, but then her voice came, low and uncertain. “Greig… do you still… hate me?” I looked up and offered her a perfectly measured, noncommittal smile. Hate her? Of course, I had. But it had been five years. Hate is a fire that, if left unattended for long enough, eventually burns down to embers. It fades. Like an old photograph, the person in it fading along with the memory. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say more, but just then, another customer walked in. Seeing this, Rosalind swallowed her words and stepped quietly to the side. The man was a regular. He picked out several pastries. “Boss, you’ve got a real talent! This stuff is as good as any of those fancy downtown bakeries, maybe even better!” “You’re too kind,” I replied calmly, my hands moving deftly to box up his order. The customer glanced around my small shop, a puzzled look on his face. “With skills like these, why not open a bigger place? It’s a shame to be tucked away in a little corner like this.” I just smiled without answering. He was sensible enough not to press the issue. He paid and left with his treats. Rosalind remained in the corner the whole time, her gaze fixed on me, looking like she was about to speak several times but never finding the chance. The shop was surprisingly busy, with customers coming and going in a steady stream. She said nothing, and I acted as if she wasn’t there, focusing all my attention on my work. Finally, the voice of her assistant drifted in from outside, cautious and respectful. “Ms. Vance, your husband is on the phone. He’s asking if you’ve gotten the cake. He’s worried about the slick roads…” “I know,” Rosalind said, her brow furrowing slightly as she glanced outside. The window of a luxury sedan parked at the curb was rolled down, and I could just make out the silhouette of a man peering anxiously toward the shop. Before she left, she looked at me one last time. “If… if you ever need any help, you can come find me.” She left me with those words and then turned, walking quickly out into the snow. I treated it as the empty pleasantry it was and paid it no mind. Through the glass, I watched as a man rushed to her side, carefully steadying her. He gently pulled her coat tighter against the cold before guiding her into the car. I pulled my gaze away and went back to arranging a fresh batch of pastries on the cooling rack. The next day, I was awake before dawn. It was the anniversary of my father’s death. I made a special trip to the market and bought a selection of his favorite things. They weren’t traditional offerings, but my father had never cared for tradition. A memorial, I figured, should be for the one who has passed. It should be what he would have wanted. At the cemetery, I knelt on the cold stone before his grave and laid out the pastries one by one. Then, just as I always did, I began to speak to the headstone in a low murmur. I told him business at the shop was good, that the new Black Forest cake was a big hit with the neighbors. I told him Mrs. Gable’s little grandson had come in for cream puffs the other day and was the cutest kid I’d ever seen. I told him that even though the winter was cold, the heating in my apartment was excellent, and the nights weren’t hard to get through. My voice trailed off. The mountain wind rustled through my hair. I reached out and gently traced the chiseled letters of his name on the stone, almost able to see his kind, loving eyes looking back at me. “Dad,” I whispered, a faint smile touching my lips. “See? I’m listening to you. I’m trying my best to live a good life.” “I’m doing well now. I really am…” Today, I am just Greig Cole, the owner of a small bakeshop on a quiet street in the south end of the city. My life is simple, grounded. I am no longer the husband Rosalind Vance, the formidable CEO of Vance Corp, had discarded with a single divorce decree. I am no longer the paranoid, jealous man who drowned his sorrows in alcohol for her sake. And I am certainly no longer the criminal convicted of arson and assault, the one and only stain on the otherwise perfect narrative of her legendary rise in the business world. Rosalind and I, you could say we came up together, a young couple forged in hardship. When we first met, she was only fifteen, an insignificant, illegitimate daughter of the Vance family. Her entire existence was to serve as a shield for her celebrated older sister, to absorb every hidden threat and open attack. As a result, she was always covered in a tapestry of new bruises over old scars, never whole for a single day. My father, seeing her plight, took pity on her and often helped her out in secret. “I will never forget your kindness, sir. I, Rosalind Vance, will repay this debt one day,” she’d promised him. And she was a woman who knew how to repay a debt. She was true to her word. In three years, she led a team that tore through the corporate world, acquiring competitors and tripling Vance Corp’s market value. The board officially named her CEO, cementing her power. In an instant, she was one of the most powerful figures in the city, an unstoppable force. The same business titans who had once looked down on her now scrambled to curry her favor, but she kept them all at a polite distance. Only with my father was she different. Her respect for him was genuine and deep. Even after he retired and left Northwood, that respect never wavered. “If you hadn’t been there for me when I had nothing, I would have been finished,” she’d told him. “I never would have achieved any of this.” “From now on, I will consider you my own father.” “I will honor you, and I will take good care of Greig.” We saw each other often during that time, and our relationship bloomed naturally. After we were married, a few of the old guard on her company’s board, resentful of a CEO with her background, constantly tried to undermine her. For five years, I stood by her side. I lost count of the sleepless nights we spent together, deflecting corporate sabotage and dealing with threats from rivals in the dead of night. From boardroom backstabbing to market warfare, we navigated the most dangerous parts of her journey together, until no one in the company dared to challenge her again. But the higher she climbed, the more admirers swarmed around her. Though I trusted her, I couldn’t help the anxiety that gnawed at me. She noticed my unease. One night, she took my hand and held it tight. “Don’t overthink things, Greig,” she said softly. “No one can compare to you.” “You were with me through the worst of it. You walked through fire with me. That’s something no one can ever replace.” To set my mind at ease, she spent nearly all her time outside of work with me. She knew I loved the pastries from an old bakery on the south side, and no matter how late she worked, she would always go and buy some for me. If I so much as nicked my finger while cooking, she would frown for hours, carefully disinfecting and bandaging it as if it were a life-threatening wound. Before long, all of Northwood knew: Rosalind Vance, the iron-fisted CEO, doted on her husband, valuing my life more than her own. I believed that what we had, forged in shared struggle since we were young, was unbreakable. I never imagined that all that supposed devotion was just a calculated move in a much larger game. The day I found out was just like today, a world blanketed in snow. Watching the blizzard intensify outside my window, I remembered she’d left wearing only a thin blazer. Worried, I grabbed her heavy coat and went out to find her. And then I saw it. A scene that will be burned into my memory for the rest of my life. Rosalind, in a hotel suite with another man, their clothes in disarray. In that instant, I was frozen solid, unable to move, unable to speak. Helplessness, confusion, betrayal… the emotions washed over me like ice water. Rosalind, however, was unnaturally calm. “I’d planned to tell you in a few days,” she said coolly. “But since you’re here, this works too.” “I’m going to marry William.” She said it so matter-of-factly, as if she were deciding what to have for breakfast. I should have just agreed. In our world, affairs were common. Even my own father had a few romantic dalliances in his youth. For someone of Rosalind’s stature, it was only a matter of time. I forced down the rage, trying to stay rational. “You can have a lover,” I said, my voice tight. “But we are not getting a divorce.” I thought, after nearly a decade of weathering storms together, she would at least consider my feelings. She refused. “The divorce is non-negotiable. I have to give William a proper title.” Her tone was absolute. At that moment, my rage finally boiled over. I lunged at her like a madman, beating my fists against her, my voice raw as I screamed. I asked her where this left my pride, asked if our ten years together meant less than some man who’d appeared out of nowhere. Rosalind just stood there, letting me vent my fury. It wasn’t until I spat out insults, calling them a cheating whore and a bastard, that her expression finally changed. “That’s enough. William isn’t just ‘some man.’ He is the only man I have ever wanted to marry.” “The only one you’ve wanted to marry? Then what was I?” Her gaze fell on my pale, stricken face, her voice still eerily calm. “Greig, you were the most strategic choice.” “Back then, my world was full of dangers. I couldn’t bear to let William face that, so I needed a husband to act as a frontman. The love I showed you all these years… it was just part of the performance, a way to make the decoy more convincing.” Her words were a knife, gutting the foundation of my entire life. All our shared struggles, just an elaborate deception. All her tender affection, just an act for an unseen audience. The beautiful marriage I thought we had was, from the very beginning, nothing but a shield for another man. While I was still reeling from the truth, Rosalind was already shielding William, guiding him out of the room. She was a woman of her word. When she said she would marry William, she began preparations immediately, and on a grand scale. She paraded him at every important event in Northwood, introducing him to everyone. She promoted him with a fervor that was even more extravagant and shameless than the way she had once doted on me. They were the picture of devotion in public—the star-crossed lovers reunited, the power couple finally getting their storybook ending. And me? Were all my years of dedication, all my love, to be so easily erased? Was I supposed to hide in the shadows and watch them live out their fairytale? I wouldn’t have it. If I was going to suffer, they were going to suffer with me. So, on the night of the grand business gala where Rosalind was set to officially introduce William, I showed up. In front of a room packed with the city’s elite, I tore down the facade, exposing their sordid affair for all to see. Amid the wreckage of the banquet, Rosalind pulled me aside, her eyes filled with exhaustion and impatience. “Do you have to make a scene like this? Drag everyone through the mud?” “Yes,” I said, looking her straight in the eye, refusing to back down. “If I can’t be happy, neither can you.” But that wasn’t enough. I called in every favor my father had left in the business world. We filed a joint complaint, exposing every shady deal and unethical practice Rosalind had used on her way to the top. I was going to drag her down from her throne and turn her back into that powerless, illegitimate girl she once was. Reality, however, delivered a swift and brutal blow. She was a corporate titan. The complaints vanished as if dropped into the ocean. Instead, we, the accusers, were branded as conspirators trying to defame a pillar of the business community. The others got scared and threw all the blame onto me. I was arrested. The day I was taken into custody, Rosalind came to see me. The holding cell was dim. She stood on the other side of the bars, impeccably dressed, her voice calm but cold as ice. “You can’t win, Greig. I’m not the same person I was back then.” She paused, a flicker of something like pity in her eyes. “If you apologize and promise to leave William alone, you can remain my husband. Everything can go back to how it was. For the sake of our past, I won’t treat you poorly.” I just laughed in her face. I was young then, my pride more valuable than my life. I pointed at her and cursed her, telling her I’d rather die than bow to her. Maybe my words cut her, or maybe she just wanted to teach me a lesson. The days I spent in that cell were worse than anything I could have imagined. The damp, foul-smelling air, the cold iron of the cuffs, the stale, hard food… it all worked to grind down my will. Just as I was about to break, she suddenly had me bailed out. It seemed like nothing had changed, but the way people looked at me was different. Only later did I find out why. When my father heard what had happened, he had rushed back to Northwood overnight. He had knelt for hours outside the Vance Corp headquarters, begging to see her, begging for mercy on my behalf. When he was repeatedly denied, he smashed his head against the stone steps of her headquarters—a final, desperate act, buying public attention with his life, and in doing so, buying my freedom. The news shattered me. It hollowed me out completely. I stopped fighting. I stopped caring about Rosalind and William. I just curled up in my room, a soulless puppet consumed by the overwhelming grief and guilt of knowing my reckless pride had killed my father. Meanwhile, the Vance household was alive with celebration, decorated lavishly for Rosalind’s upcoming wedding to William. Only my wing of the house was as silent and dead as a tomb. I drifted in a haze of sleep for days. When I finally woke, there were people in my room. They said I was sick and needed to rest. I didn’t react. Perhaps out of guilt, Rosalind herself looked after me for a few days. But that small flicker of warmth quickly died out, and she returned to William’s side. On their wedding day, the house was filled with music and laughter. I had no interest in watching. But William came to my room. Maybe he wanted to taunt me, to twist the knife. He told me the real truth about my father’s death. “Your old man didn’t have to die, you know,” he said with a smirk. “But I thought you needed to be taught a lesson, so I had Rosalind make sure your father couldn’t get a meeting with any of the board members. He had no other choice, you see. He had to use his own life just to get their attention.” He got the reaction he wanted. His words were the final straw that snapped what little sanity I had left. In a daze, I lit the curtains on fire. The flames exploded, devouring everything in sight. William screamed and tried to run, but I grabbed him, holding on with all my strength. A single, crazed thought took over: We’ll all die together. The moment Rosalind burst into the inferno, the thick smoke blurred my vision. I couldn’t see her expression, only that she grabbed the screaming William without a moment’s hesitation and turned to flee. Just then, a burning ceiling beam crashed down, landing squarely on my leg. A wave of excruciating pain washed over me. As the world spun and my consciousness faded, the last ember of my will to live finally went out. But I didn’t die. The fire was contained. I was pulled from the wreckage. Everyone said I had lost my mind. But I knew better. I wasn’t insane. I just proved it by stabbing Rosalind with a dinner knife the next time she came to see me. My father had paid with his life, after all. A little pain was the least she deserved. They said it was aggravated assault. My charges were upgraded. I was sent back to the detention center. This time, I was facing a formal trial and sentencing. For intentional injury, I was sentenced to three years in prison. Shortly after, the divorce papers arrived. Rosalind finally got what she wanted. She was free of me, free to be with her precious William. In prison, my mind often drifted. I spent my days in a numb fog. Then, an old colleague of my father’s visited, bringing a letter he had left for me. The letter contained only a few words: “Greig, no matter what, you have to live.” Seeing my father’s familiar handwriting, it was as if a tiny spark ignited in my dead heart. For the sake of his last wish, I started eating again. I started sleeping. I started living. Thanks to a policy of sentence reduction for good behavior, I was released early. With the small amount of money I had, I moved to my father’s hometown and opened a small bakeshop. Life was humble, but I remembered my father’s words and I forced myself to keep going. To live long enough to find a way to avenge him. To live to see the day that Rosalind and William, the people who killed him, were sent to hell. My thoughts pulled back from the heavy memories. The mountain wind felt cool against my skin. I gave the headstone one last smile and said softly, “I’m going now, Dad. I’ll be back to see you soon.” Picking up my empty basket, I turned and started limping my way back down the mountain path. But after only a few steps, a strange feeling washed over me, a premonition that made me turn back. There, standing under an old tree at the entrance to the cemetery, was Rosalind. She had been watching me. I had no idea for how long. “Greig!” Seeing that I’d spotted her, she started walking quickly toward me.

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All because my sister, while sponsoring a student in need, casually remarked: “What a coincidence. You and my brother were born on the same day, even at the same time.” The student then deluded himself into believing he was the real scion who was switched at birth. He brought two thugs and kidnapped me, plotting to kill me and swap our identities back. In a moment of crisis, I called my fiancée for help, but she answered impatiently: “Lucas, you stole Chase’s life. This is the price you have to pay.” When I was pushed into the river, my fiancée’s friend suddenly appeared, jumping in to save me. But exhausted, we both sank to the bottom. When I woke up again, I was back on the day I was kidnapped. This time, before the imposter could kill me, he mockingly asked me to choose someone to leave my last words to. I decisively called my sister. 1 “Lucas, you disgusting parasite! You’ve stolen twenty years of my life. Today, you’re going to pay for it!” Chase signaled the thugs, and they immediately started beating me. Seeing my panic, Chase smiled triumphantly and kicked my phone towards me. “You’re not leaving here alive today. But, I can give you a chance to leave your last words.” I looked up. Chase was staring at me with eyes full of malice. I knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted me to call my fiancée, Chloe, so he could watch her humiliate me one last time before I died. After all, that’s what happened in my past life. But in this life, I decisively dialed my sister’s number. I never imagined that a casual remark my sister made while sponsoring a student in need would lead Chase to such a ridiculous misunderstanding. I tried desperately to explain, but Chase was hell-bent on believing he was the true heir of the Sterling family. Even my fiancée, Chloe, believed his nonsense. If my sister knew how Chloe treated me, she wouldn’t even need me to lift a finger—she had plenty of ways to make them suffer. However, as soon as the call connected, I only had time to shout, “East River Bay, sister save me!” Chase snatched the phone from my hand and smashed it to pieces. “You didn’t call Chloe?” He looked at me in disbelief, then laughed with contempt. “Even if you called your sister, she wouldn’t care about a fake like you.” “Alright, hurry up. Tie him up and throw him in the river. Then clean up the scene to make it look like a suicide.” I knew my sister would rush over as fast as possible, but panic still gripped me. I tried everything to stall for time. “Let me go! This is a crime. I’ve already called for help. If something happens to me, none of you will get away with it. Aren’t you afraid?” The thugs didn’t care at all. As we got closer to the riverbank, a familiar figure suddenly appeared in the distance. She shoved one of the thugs aside and stood in front of me. “Lucas, I’m here. Don’t worry.” Hearing Sarah’s voice, my heart instantly settled. Although she was Chloe’s friend, I had rarely interacted with her. Yet in my past life, she protected me just like this, regardless of her own safety. When I was pushed into the river, she held onto me tightly, trying desperately to save me. Unfortunately, neither of us survived in the end. Since fate gave me a second chance, this time, let me protect you, Sarah. Looking at her pale face, my heart ached. “Sarah, you go first. I can handle this myself.” She had been frail since childhood, rarely leaving the house, let alone fighting two thugs. As expected, Sarah was quickly pushed to the ground by the recovered thugs. Chase frowned. “Where did this crazy woman come from? Deal with her too.” Seeing Sarah struggling to protect me even while on the ground, I couldn’t help but shout: “Chase! She’s Chloe’s friend. If you dare hurt her, aren’t you afraid the Miller family will come after you?” A flicker of hesitation crossed Chase’s face, then he dismissed it. “I’ve never heard Chloe mention a friend like her. Even if she is, looking at this sickly state, she’s probably not favored.” “Would Chloe really trouble me, the true Sterling heir, over someone like her? Don’t make me laugh. Besides, if you both die together, how you died is up to me to say.” Sarah was beaten until she was barely breathing, and I was tied up, unable to move. I glared at Chase, hatred burning in my eyes. “Chase, I don’t know why you think I stole your identity, but I am undeniably a child of the Sterling family. I can overlook what you did before, but if anything happens to Sarah, I swear I’ll make you wish you were dead!” Chase suddenly put on a pitying expression and laughed loudly. “Lucas, you really won’t give up until the end, will you? It makes sense; having enjoyed wealth and luxury for so long, how could you easily admit you were switched at birth?” “But no matter how much you deny it, it’s useless. I’ve already done a DNA test. I am definitely the Sterling heir!” I looked at him in disbelief. A DNA test? How is that possible? My parents passed away years ago. The Sterling family only has my sister and me. How could Chase be a Sterling? But there was no time to ask for details. The two thugs dragged Sarah and me to the riverbank. The river was deep; falling in meant certain death. While worrying about why my sister hadn’t arrived yet, I looked around for a chance to escape. Chase saw through my thoughts and laughed loudly. “Still thinking of running at a time like this? You really are disobedient. Go, break his legs before throwing him in.” A thug picked up an iron rod and walked towards me. Sarah used all her strength to grab the thug’s leg. “Lucas, I’ll hold them back, run!” “I’ll kill you, you troublesome woman!” The thug was thoroughly enraged, raising the iron rod high, about to strike Sarah. Just then, a car screeched to a halt in front of us. “Stop if you don’t want to die!” Seeing the familiar face of the butler getting out of the car, my suspended heart finally landed. The Sterlings had arrived. The thugs were immediately subdued. Chase screamed, “Who are you? What do you want? I am the true Sterling heir!” As soon as he finished speaking, the butler’s men knocked him out with a chop to the neck. The butler said the people who bullied me would be taken to the warehouse, and their fate was entirely up to me. Sarah and I were sent to the hospital. The doctor said I only had superficial injuries, nothing serious. Sarah was much worse. She suffered a heavy blow to the head and needed hospitalization. It wasn’t until she came out of the emergency room and was moved to a ward that I could relax a little. I borrowed a nurse’s phone to tell my sister I was safe. Hearing that someone slandered me about not being a Sterling and tried to harm me, my sister was furious: “If I didn’t have an important meeting I couldn’t leave, I would have gone with the butler to personally vent your anger.” I quickly comforted her. “Sis, let the butler go back. You need someone by your side. A few bodyguards here are enough.” “Also, sis, I don’t want to marry Chloe anymore. I like her friend.” My sister was shocked at first, then laughed. “It’s great you think so. I’ve always disliked that Chloe.” “Since you don’t like her anymore, starting today, I’ll withdraw all the resources our family gave them. I’ll let her know the consequences of offending my brother.” After discussing with my sister, we hung up. Whether in my past life or this one, Chloe disappointed me thoroughly. She only had eyes for her childhood friend Chase, ignoring our years of relationship and humiliating me wantonly. Reborn, I won’t let Chloe off easily. But unexpectedly, before I could settle the score with her, she came to me first. Her face twisted with anger, she raised her hand and slapped me hard. “Lucas, you’re insane! Occupying Chase’s life for twenty years isn’t enough, you actually hired people to beat him! When the Sterlings find out the truth, they won’t spare you! You being unlucky is one thing, but don’t drag me down!” This slap brought the taste of blood to my mouth. I slapped her back immediately, a sarcastic smile curling on my lips. “He said he’s the real Sterling heir, and you believed him? You grew up with him; does he look even a little bit like my sister?” Chloe frowned, impatient. “Stop quibbling. Chase has already done a DNA test.” Pausing, she said hypocritically, “I know you can’t bear to part with the Sterling family’s wealth. How about this? As long as you obediently return the identity to Chase, I can support you. Although I can’t give you status, I guarantee your life won’t be worse than in the Sterling family.” Chase really did a DNA test with my sister? But how on earth did he get my sister’s sample? Full of doubts, just as I was about to ask in detail, Chase’s voice rang out. “Lucas!” Chloe shook her head helplessly and said, “You hired someone to beat Chase, it’s normal for him to want revenge. In my opinion, you should kneel and apologize quickly. Considering our past relationship, I can put in a good word for you.” I was shocked to see Chase, and even more shocked to see the bodyguard following him. I subconsciously asked, “Who let you release him?” As a result, the bodyguard walked up to me and kicked me in the shin. I was kicked to my knees, and he didn’t stop, slapping my face hard several times. “You fake, still daring to act like the young master in front of me? I think you have a death wish!” My head buzzed from the beating. The look in the bodyguard’s eyes was full of disgust, as if he really believed I was a fake heir. I opened my mouth with difficulty. “Didn’t the butler tell you when he came? What Chase said is all lies.” The bodyguard scoffed. “Young Master Chase is the genuine Sterling heir. You fake, are you addicted to pretending?” Chase waved his hand, and the bodyguard immediately stood respectfully to the side. He glanced expressionlessly at the wounds on my face and turned to Chloe. “Chloe, your boyfriend not only stole my life but also hired two thugs to beat me. Fortunately, my family’s bodyguard arrived in time.” “I just want to ask, as his girlfriend, how do you plan to handle this?” Chase twisted the truth, his words full of holes. But Chloe believed his nonsense without thinking. She stepped hard on my fingers, saying viciously, “I didn’t expect you to be so vicious. Apologize to Chase immediately!” I struggled to resist but was pressed down harder. “Chloe, our engagement hasn’t been annulled yet. Treating me like this, aren’t you afraid…” “Ah!” Chloe applied more force, increasing the pressure. “You fake, worthy of marrying me? To tell you the truth, Chase is going to marry me. I know you want to marry me, that’s why you caused all this trouble, but stop dreaming now. As long as you are willing to kowtow and admit your mistake to Chase, he is magnanimous and will leave you a way to live.” Pain distorted my face. Angry and disgusted, I gritted my teeth. “Only you would treat a cuckoo occupying the nest as a treasure. You just wait and see the day you fall from the clouds!” The phrase “cuckoo occupying the nest” seemed to poke Chase’s sore spot. He instantly went crazy, scratching and hitting me, and finally snatched an electric baton from the bodyguard. “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you!”

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For forty-six years, my parents split everything down the middle. They had separate accounts, separate savings. Every single grocery bill was meticulously divided. The day before my father died, he signed over all twenty-five of his properties to his illegitimate son. I expected my mother to scream, to cry, to fight. She did nothing. She just signed the papers, her face a placid mask. When his son and mistress moved into the largest waterfront mansion, my mother even sent them a fruit basket. Three years later, my mom had a massive stroke and was rushed to the hospital. I was frantic, but she just calmly told me to go to the bank. I took her debit card, punched in the PIN, and the moment I saw the balance, my world simply stopped. My mother, propped up against her hospital pillows, just smiled, as serene as a summer cloud. 01 The air in the living room was thick and cold, heavy as iron. Each tick of the old grandfather clock was a hammer blow against my nerves, a dull, grating echo in the silence. My father, Arthur Collins, the man who had gone Dutch with my mother for forty-six years, had taken his last breath yesterday. Today, his lawyer sat on our sofa, a frigid last will and testament resting on his knees. That sofa was twenty years old, its leather surface cracked and peeling, revealing the yellowed foam underneath like a dozen mocking lips. My mother, Helen Collins, sat perched on that worn-out piece of furniture, her spine ramrod straight, her silver hair pinned back immaculately. She wore a plain, faded blouse, her expression as still as a frozen lake. You would think the lawyer was about to announce grocery prices, not deliver the final verdict on her forty-six-year marriage. The lawyer adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. The lenses caught the gloomy light from the window, hiding his eyes. He cleared his throat and began to read the document in a flat, emotionless monotone. “In accordance with the final wishes of Mr. Arthur Collins, all personal assets, including a total of twenty-five properties located in the city and surrounding suburbs, are to be inherited in their entirety by his son, Mr. Ethan Reed.” Ethan. The illegitimate son, only a few years younger than me. The one my father always called his “true heir.” Blood rushed to my head, a roar filling my ears as the room began to spin. Twenty-five properties! Every penny my father saved by nickel-and-diming my mother, the entire fortune built on her quiet sacrifice and endless tolerance—it was all going to that bastard who had no right to any of it. “What about us?” My voice was a raw, scraping sound, each word forced through gritted teeth. “What about my mother and me?” The lawyer’s gaze finally lifted from the papers, landing on me with a look of professional pity. “Mr. Collins, taking into account his forty-plus years of marriage to Mrs. Helen Collins, has granted residency rights for this current property to Mrs. Collins and Ms. Claire Collins.” Residency rights. What a generous gift. We were like a pair of aging pets, permitted to keep living in our dingy cage until we died. The ownership, of course, would also belong to that young man, Ethan. Something inside me snapped. Rage, hot as lava, churned in my gut. I felt like I was about to explode. I shot to my feet, ready to flip the coffee table and its stack of deceitful papers. I wanted to shred that damned will. I wanted to throw this so-called lawyer, this accomplice to a lifetime of theft, out of my house. But a cool, thin hand clamped down on my wrist. It was wrinkled, ancient, but the grip was surprisingly strong, a steel trap that snuffed out all my fury. It was my mother. She was still sitting calmly, not even looking at me. Her eyes were fixed on the lawyer as she spoke softly. “Give me the papers.” The lawyer passed them over, along with a pen. I watched, stunned, as my mother—the woman I thought would be more devastated than anyone—took the pen. At the bottom of the document, on the page that reduced her forty-six-year marriage to a footnote, she signed her name with a steady hand. Helen Collins. The letters were neat and elegant, befitting a retired schoolteacher. Not a single tremor. Not a moment’s hesitation. After signing, she pushed the document back toward the lawyer. Her tone was as casual as if she were commenting on the weather. “There you are.” The lawyer picked up the document. As he looked at my mother, his professional pity seemed to morph into genuine awe, mixed with a sliver of disbelief. He stood, gave my mother a slight bow, and left in a hurry, as if afraid the crushing silence of the room might swallow him whole. The moment the door clicked shut, I lost it. “Why?” I screamed at her back, my voice sharp and ragged. “Why did you sign it? Are you happy with this? Forty-six years! You split the cost of a single onion with him! And all you get is the right to keep living here? Are you insane?” I felt like the absurdity of it all was driving me mad. How could she be so calm? What right did she have to be so calm? After being betrayed, abandoned, and humiliated like this, shouldn’t she be weeping, wailing, cursing his name? My mother finally turned around. She looked at me, her usually gentle eyes now as deep and unreadable as a forgotten well. There wasn’t a ripple of emotion in them. All she said was, “What’s the point in fighting?” “He’s gone now.” With that, she turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving me with nothing but the sight of her frail, indifferent back. I froze, a chill spreading through my veins. He’s gone now. Right. He was gone, so everything was set in stone. Nothing could be changed. But I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t accept her weakness, her passivity, her meek submission. It wasn’t just weakness, it was numbness. It was stupidity! BAM! I kicked the leg of the coffee table, the loud crack echoing through the empty living room. Then I grabbed my jacket and slammed the door behind me. This house, this place that was suffocating me with despair, I couldn’t stand to be in it for one more second. 02 I wandered aimlessly all day, only dragging myself back to that place I was supposed to call “home” after the sky had bled to black. As I approached my building, the roar of a powerful engine shattered the quiet of the old neighborhood. A brand-new black SUV was parked aggressively in front of our shabby apartment entrance, its headlights cutting blindingly through the dark. The driver’s door opened and a young man stepped out, decked out in designer streetwear, his hair slicked back with too much product. It was Ethan. Behind him, a garishly dressed, middle-aged woman dripping in cheap jewelry and a faux fur coat emerged. His mother. They had actually come here. The anger I’d been suppressing all day erupted. I stormed over and blocked their path. “What are you doing here?” I spat, my voice dripping with hostility. Ethan saw me and a smug, condescending smirk spread across his face. “Well, if it isn’t my big sister. Don’t be so hostile. We just came to check on Aunt Helen. We’re all family now, after all.” His mother, the mistress, pulled a thick envelope from her designer knock-off purse and held it out to me with an air of superiority. “Here’s fifty thousand dollars. Arthur left specific instructions before he passed. He said it was compensation for you and your mother. Take it. It should last you a while.” Compensation? Fifty thousand dollars? Were they tipping the help? The insult was so profound it felt like a physical blow. My blood boiled. I stared at the envelope, wishing I could set it on fire with my gaze. Ethan walked past me and started sizing up our rundown building, his tone dripping with disdain. “Jeez, this place is a dump. How could Dad let you live in a place like this? Wait a few days until I move into the waterfront mansion. You should come see it. Now that’s living.” He turned back to me, seeming to savor my humiliation. “Oh, by the way, sis, I just ordered a new sports car. Two million dollars. It’s blue, totally sick. I’ll take you for a spin when it gets here, show you what life is like for Dad’s real son.” Every word was a poisoned dagger straight to my heart. I was shaking with rage. I pointed a trembling finger at them and screamed, “Get out! Take your filthy money and get the hell out of here!” I lunged forward to shove them, to physically expel their disgusting presence from my sight. “Claire, stop.” A calm voice came from behind me. My mother had appeared in the shadows of the building’s entrance, a silent silhouette. She walked forward and, to my utter horror, took the envelope of cash from the mistress’s hand. My heart sank into a black abyss. Not only did she take it, but she offered the pair a smile that could almost be described as pleasant. “Thank you for coming to see me. Please, feel free to visit again sometime.” My mind went blank. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, what I was hearing. Was this my mother? Was this the woman whose husband and life’s fortune had been stolen from her? Had her spine been surgically removed? Had a dog eaten her dignity? Ethan and his mother were clearly surprised by how easy it was. They exchanged a look, their eyes shining with triumph and contempt. They offered a few more hollow condolences, then climbed back into their car, satisfied. The engine roared to life, and they sped away, leaving a cloud of exhaust in their wake. I stood frozen until the car was completely out of sight. Then, I found my voice. I spun around to face my mother, feeling like a cornered animal. “Why did you take their money? Why did you smile at them? Did you know about all this? Do you just not care? Do you have any pride left at all?” My voice, echoing in the empty stairwell, was laced with tears and utter despair. My mother didn’t look at me. She just clutched the envelope and silently started walking up the stairs. I followed her, watching as she unlocked the door and stepped into the dark apartment. She didn’t turn on the lights. She walked straight to the dining table and began clearing away the dishes from the night before. It was from the last meal we’d eaten on the day my father died. The leftovers had congealed in the plates. She just cleared them in silence, plate by plate, bowl by bowl, her movements slow and mechanical, as if my furious questions, my screams, my pain, were nothing but empty air. In that moment, all my energy, all my fight, just evaporated. I stared at her stubborn, silent back, and a wave of disappointment so profound it felt like drowning washed over me. There was a chasm between us, a gap too wide to cross. I couldn’t understand her. I couldn’t reach her. We were living under the same roof, but we were worlds apart. 03 In the days that followed, my mother and I descended into a cold war. The humiliation, however, was far from over. A few days later, a gold-embossed invitation was shoved through our mail slot. Ethan was hosting a housewarming party at the grand waterfront mansion my father had left him. Our names, mine and my mother’s, were printed in gleaming script. It was a blatant provocation, a deliberate act of rubbing our faces in the dirt. I snatched the invitation and, right in front of my mother, ripped it into tiny pieces. The confetti-like scraps fluttered down, settling in the icy air between us. “I would rather die than go,” I bit out, each word sharp with hate. My mother merely glanced at the paper littering the floor, said nothing, and went back to polishing her precious porcelain tea set. I thought that was the end of it. I thought, this time, she would finally be on my side. I was wrong. The day of the party was a Saturday. I locked myself in my room, trying to drown out the world with loud music and old books. In the afternoon, I heard rustling sounds from the living room. I cracked my door open just a sliver, and the sight that greeted me felt like a bolt of lightning to the chest. My mother had changed into a clean, dark coat. In her hand, she held a fruit basket, exquisitely wrapped in cellophane. The fruit inside was plump and glossy, clearly expensive. It was obvious where she was going. I burst out of my room and stood in front of her, my eyes wide with disbelief. “Where are you going?” She looked at me calmly, as if she were stating the most normal thing in the world. “To congratulate your brother.” Brother? The word was like two red-hot needles driven into my ears, piercing my heart. My world, in that instant, completely fell apart. All my anger, my pain, my confusion—it all came crashing down, shattering the last of my composure. I screamed at her, my voice raw and hysterical. “Have you no dignity? Have you no shame? He is not my brother! He’s a bastard, a thief who stole everything from us! And you’re going to congratulate him with a fruit basket? Are you trying to tell the whole world that you deserved this?” My voice trembled as tears streamed down my face. I wasn’t crying for the lost money. I was crying for my mother’s numb, self-deprecating spirit. It was heartbreaking. It was hopeless. My mother stared at me. This time, her eyes weren’t a placid, bottomless well. Something was churning in their depths, an emotion I couldn’t decipher—complex, dark, like a storm over a sunless sea. There was pain, conflict, and a flicker of… finality. She didn’t explain. She just gave me one last, deep look, then moved past me and opened the door. Click. The door shut. And with it, the last shred of hope I had for her. I collapsed onto the floor, every ounce of strength gone from my body. It was over. My mother, my only family, had completely lost her mind. I sat on the cold floor for a long time, until my limbs went numb. My phone buzzed. It was a friend of mine who worked in media. Her voice was cautious, laced with pity. “Claire, are you okay? I… I’m at Ethan’s housewarming party. I just saw your mom.” My heart seized. “How… how is she?” My friend sighed, her voice full of frustration. “Listen, don’t get mad, but Ethan and his mother are absolute trash. They sat your mom at a table in the farthest corner with a bunch of distant relatives nobody knows. During dinner, Ethan’s mom walked around with a wine glass, telling everyone how ‘understanding’ and ‘magnanimous’ your mother is. The way she said it, she might as well have called her an idiot to her face.” “Someone even asked your mom how she felt about Arthur leaving everything to his son, and why she didn’t fight it. Your mom just smiled and said, ‘It’s for the best.’” “Claire, people are whispering. They’re saying your mom is…” My friend trailed off, but I knew what she was going to say. That my mom was a spineless doormat. That she was a weakling. That she was the biggest fool in the world. My head swam, and my vision blurred. I hung up the phone, unable to listen to another word. My heart was dead. I couldn’t stay in this house, this place filled with nothing but shame and painful memories. I scrambled to my feet, ran into my room, and started throwing clothes into a suitcase. I had to get out of here. I had to get as far away as possible. I never wanted to see my mother’s numb face again. I never wanted to be a part of this pathetic story. Out of sight, out of mind. 04 I moved out and didn’t look back for three years. For three years, I was an ostrich with its head buried in the sand. I worked relentlessly, pouring all my energy into my career, trying to use the crushing workload to numb the pain and forget the past. My mother and I barely spoke. She would call occasionally, asking if I was doing okay, if I had enough money. Our conversations were always short and polite, like two distant relatives making a perfunctory check-in. I tried not to think about her life, but I’d still hear things through the grapevine. I heard that Ethan, after getting his hands on those twenty-five properties, went completely off the rails. He sold off a few of the best-located, easiest-to-liquidate apartments and blew the money on gambling, women, and lavish parties. He and his mother became a running joke in high society circles—the classic overnight millionaires with no class, a pair of adult children with too much money. Hearing this brought me no satisfaction, only a dull, lingering sadness. Sometimes, late at night, I would think of my mother. I’d picture her alone in that old house, her face a mask of unsettling calm. But then the image of her carrying that fruit basket to the party would flash in my mind, and the old anger would flare up again. I couldn’t forgive her for not fighting back. I hated her weakness, which had made both of us the butt of everyone’s jokes. Time drifted by in this haze of resentment and distance. I figured this was how it would always be between us, a cold silence that would last until one of us died. But tragedy, as it turns out, doesn’t wait for an invitation. One afternoon, I was in the middle of a critical project meeting at work. My phone, set to silent, was vibrating nonstop on the table. Annoyed, I declined the call, but the person immediately called back. And again. It was an unknown number. A strange sense of dread washed over me. I excused myself from the meeting and stepped into the hallway to answer. “Hello, am I speaking with Ms. Claire Collins, daughter of Mrs. Helen Collins?”

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1 I had just returned to the country when I ran into my father and brother at the cemetery. It was the first time I’d seen them in ten years. They were there to visit the grave of my stepsister Melody’s dog. I was there to leave flowers for my mother, who had been dead for just as long. My father saw me, glanced behind me, and then sighed. “Here to visit your grandfather’s grave? Where’s your mother? It’s been ten years. Is she still angry?” The word ‘mother’ was a blade in my heart. My hands clenched into fists, and a hot sting filled my eyes. But I remembered what she’d told me before she died. I tilted my chin up, my voice flat. “No.” My brother, standing beside him, let out a cold snort. “Not angry? Then why haven’t you come home? Do you have any idea how much time and energy Dad and I have wasted looking for you all these years?” I glanced at the collection of pet toys and supplies in their hands. A sharp, familiar pain throbbed in my calf. “I’m sorry,” I said coolly, “I have things to do. I don’t have time for idle chat.” My brother’s temper flared. “That’s enough, Elara! When are you going to stop being so childish? Are you going to disown your own family now?” Family? The family they spoke of was something my mother and I had stopped needing a decade ago. … “Elara, what happened back then… it wasn’t what you think…” The color drained from my father’s face. He reached out as if to touch my hair, but I subtly stepped back. His hand hung awkwardly in the air. A strange emotion flickered in his eyes as he looked at me. Noticing my gaze on the pet supplies he was holding, he gave a strained smile. “You know how much Melody missed that dog. She was worried he wouldn’t be comfortable… on the other side. So I just…” My expression remained blank. I looked away, said nothing, and started limping past them up the cemetery path. My father’s body stiffened when he saw my leg, his eyes instantly reddening. “Your leg…” “It’s nothing.” I cut him off, unwilling to continue the conversation. But my cold, distant attitude infuriated my brother, Bobby. He moved to block my path, grabbing my arm. “I said, that’s enough, Elara! Don’t you know that because you and Mom left, the Thorne family became the laughingstock of our social circle?” “If it weren’t for Melody being so exceptional, we would have lost our place in Seacliff City’s high society years ago!” My father tugged on my brother’s sleeve. “Bobby, that’s enough,” he said, his voice firm. “This is your sister. Control your temper.” Bobby glared at me, his face dark with resentment. My father fell back into his old habit of making excuses. “Elara, your brother doesn’t mean any harm. He just misses you and your mother so much. Please, come home. We’re family, after all.” He nudged Bobby again. Bobby shot a look at me, then at our father, and finally turned his head away, his voice stubborn. “If you and Mom come back together, you’ll still be my sister. We can still be a family.” Family? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Ten years ago, I might have yearned for that word. Now, it was just dust, buried along with my mother in the cold earth. “There’s no need. Please, let me pass.” I didn’t want to say more. I moved to walk around them again. Bobby’s enraged voice followed me. “Elara, stop right there! Do you have to be so petty?” “If you hadn’t been the one to get Melody’s dog killed, Dad and I wouldn’t have been in such a difficult position back then…” I froze. My feet didn’t move, but the deep, concave scar on my calf began to ache with a phantom pain. It was from ten years ago, from the teeth of the dog Melody owned. That year, the vicious animal had torn into my leg, leaving me bleeding profusely. My wonderful father and brother were only concerned with comforting a crying Melody. I was left lying in a pool of my own blood until a neighbor finally found me and took me to the hospital. When I woke up, a chunk of flesh was missing from my calf. I’ve walked with a limp ever since. Shaking off the memory, I looked down at my throbbing leg. The pain was nothing compared to what it had been a decade ago. Just as my desperate craving for their love was nothing now. It was all meaningless. Ignoring his outburst, I dragged myself forward. But he was relentless, chasing after me. “Elara, what is your problem? Dad and I are practically begging you. What more do you want?” Before I could answer, a figure stepped in front of me. I looked up. It was Clara, my senior from the academy. “Don’t you dare raise your voice at Elara! She has nothing to do with you anymore,” she snapped. “And for the record, the pet cemetery is over there. If you’re here to mourn your precious mutt, you’re in the wrong section. Stop your yapping here.” Her words hit Bobby like a slap. His face went pale with rage. “Who the hell are you? This is a conversation between me and my sister. Stay out of it.” Clara scoffed, her gaze shifting to my father, who had been silent in the background. Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Who am I? I’m the one telling you to get the hell away from her. I won’t say it again. Get lost.” She swung the tote bag she was carrying, and it hit the ground with a thud. Its contents spilled out—a pile of old letters, and a faded photograph. The moment I saw that photo, my eyes blurred with tears. It was a portrait of my mother. Even faded, you could still see the breathtaking beauty that had once captivated a city. Twenty years ago, she was Sophie St. Claire, the toast of Seacliff City’s high society, adored by all. But of all her suitors, she chose my father, a man with nothing to his name. To marry him, she cut ties with her own family, sold all her jewelry, and gave him her entire dowry to start his business. The shock and grief of her defiance sent my grandfather to an early grave, and my mother became an outcast in her own family. But her sacrifice paid off. My father’s business succeeded, launching him into the city’s elite. She became the woman everyone envied. After my brother and I were born, his career soared. I was his little princess, spoiled and adored. I thought that happiness would last forever. Until my tenth birthday. My father promised he’d be there, but he never showed up. The next day, he walked in with a mud-streaked woman named Sienna and her daughter, Melody. He said they were destitute, with nowhere to go, and that he’d hired Sienna as a housekeeper. My mother, with her soft heart, took them in and cared for them. But within a month, Sienna had crawled into my father’s bed. The day my mother caught them, there was a terrible fight. In a fit of rage, my father officially adopted Melody. My mother tried to leave with Bobby and me, but my brother pulled his hand away. “Mom, stop making a scene!” he yelled. “Aunt Sienna is Dad’s childhood sweetheart! If it wasn’t for you, they would have been together a long time ago. Can’t you just look the other way?” That was the first time we understood the truth about Sienna. From that day on, the smiles vanished from my mother’s face. Our home became a war zone. If there was ever a new toy or a fresh piece of fruit, it went straight to Melody. My father, who once spent a fortune on a sapphire just to see my mother smile, now abandoned important meetings to rent out an entire amusement park for Sienna and Melody. To help Melody fit in, my father enrolled her in my prestigious private school and made a massive donation. Instantly, she was surrounded by a crowd of admirers. She used the opportunity to spread rumors that I had stolen her rightful place as the Thorne family heiress, and that my mother was a homewrecker. Overnight, I went from being cherished to being cornered in the girls’ bathroom. Melody and a group of boys poured buckets of filthy water over my head and threw rotting garbage at me. “This is what a little bitch like you deserves, Elara!” she sneered, grinding her heel into my schoolbag. “Listen to me,” she spat. “Dad is mine. Bobby is mine. This house is mine! You and your shameless mother can get the hell out!” The cold, stinking water dripped through my hair, but the chill in my heart was far worse. My father, who once treasured me, now only had eyes for Melody. My brother, who once protected me, ignored my pain. My mother cried herself to sleep every night, the light in her eyes dimming day by day. I had fallen from the clouds into the mud, and it was all because of his betrayal. His cruelty, my brother’s blindness, and the venom of Sienna and Melody were knives twisting in my mother’s heart and mine. But the final blow was yet to come. On the day of the national ballet competition preliminaries—a competition I had fought tooth and nail to qualify for—my father pulled me into his study. He demanded I give my spot to Melody. Ballet was my dream. I had practiced relentlessly for eight years. I refused. His face contorted with anger. “Elara, you’re the older sister! Why can’t you just let Melody have it?” The blood froze in my veins. “Let her have it?” I cried, tears streaming down my face. “How much more do I have to give up? You know what this competition means to me! Why do you always choose her?” He faltered, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “Elara…” He started to reach for me, but Melody burst into the room. She was wearing the beautiful, custom-made tutu my mother had spent a week sewing for me. Something inside me snapped. I lunged at her, trying to rip the dress off, but my father pulled her behind him and slapped me across the face. “I’m sorry, sister, I didn’t mean to…” Melody whimpered. “I was just so envious… I know I don’t deserve it. I’ll take it off right now…” My father wrapped his arms around her, cooing softly, his eyes burning with fury as he looked back at me. “What has gotten into you, Elara? You are a Thorne. Don’t act like a hysterical shrew, just like your mother!” A shrew. The kind, gentle father I once knew had become a monster. The home I had so desperately tried to hold together was crumbling. I stood there, a numb, broken puppet, until my mother appeared. “My sweet Elara,” she whispered, her voice pulling me back from the edge. “You’ve been hurt…” She held me, her body trembling with a mixture of sorrow and rage. She helped me to my room, and once I had calmed down, she marched back downstairs. I heard the loudest, most painful argument of their lives. Each shout was laced with heart-wrenching despair. That night, my mother came back with red-rimmed eyes, packed our bags, and took me to a hotel. When I woke up the next morning, she was lying on the floor. A river of blood flowed from her wrist, staining the carpet a deep, terrifying crimson. Her face was as white as a sheet. “Mom! Mom!” I screamed, grabbing her icy arm. “Please, Mom, don’t scare me!” I scrambled out of the room, shrieking into the hallway. “Help! Somebody help my mom!” They got her to the hospital in time, but I had no money. Trembling, I called my father. The moment he answered, I begged him through my tears. “Dad, please, you have to save Mom! She’s… she’s dying…” I could hear soft, intimate sounds on his end, and then Sienna’s syrupy laugh. Fighting back nausea, I pleaded again. “Dad, please, she’s really not going to make it…” The line went dead. Desperate, I called my brother. The first thing I heard was Melody’s sobbing, followed by Bobby’s roar of fury. “That’s it, Elara! You bully Melody behind our backs all the time, but today you took it too far! I haven’t even dealt with you for that, and now you’re calling me with more of your pathetic lies?” “Aunt Sienna was right. You and Mom are just spoiled tyrants. If I ever see you hurting Melody again, don’t blame me for disowning you as my sister!” “Bobby, please, Mom is…” The dial tone pierced my ear. I collapsed onto a bench in the hospital corridor, a profound cold seeping into my bones. To save my mother, I did the only thing I could think of. I knelt in the emergency room and begged the doctors, slamming my forehead against the cold floor over and over until it was swollen and bleeding. Finally, they agreed to help. Later, a doctor pulled me aside. “Young lady, your mother’s health is failing. Years of exhaustion and emotional distress… she doesn’t have much time.” It was then I learned that when my father started his business, my mother had worked day and night at odd jobs to support us, destroying her own health in the process. But I was too young to understand what “not much time” meant. Until the day she collapsed again. She held my hand, her voice a feather-light whisper. “Elara, don’t hate your father and brother. Just live a happy life. Dance your ballet.” Her breath hitched. “Burn everything of mine. The photos, the clothes… all of it. So you can live on, with nothing tying you down.” Then, her hand went limp. But I still believed I could save her. In the middle of a torrential downpour, I ran back to the Thorne villa. I rang the bell for what felt like an eternity before the door finally opened. It was Melody. She was wearing my favorite Elsa dress. “Look what the storm dragged in,” she sneered. “This look suits you. Perfect. A new toy for my dog.” She snapped her fingers. A massive dog lunged at me, its teeth sinking deep into my calf. I screamed as blood poured down my leg, mixing with the rain. But all I could think about was my mother waiting for me. I bit down on the dog’s neck with all my might. It yelped and collapsed. Just then, my father and brother returned. Melody’s face instantly crumpled into tears as she ran to our father. “Daddy! Bobby! Elara is terrifying! She just killed our dog!” My father’s eyes were filled with disgust. “You wretched girl! You dare come back here and cause more trouble?” “Throw her out,” Bobby said coldly. “And don’t ever let her set foot in this house again.” They didn’t ask about the blood soaking my clothes or the gash in my leg. They were my mother’s last hope. I crawled toward them, my hand outstretched, about to grab my father’s pant leg. “Aah! Don’t come near me!” Melody shrieked. “She’s a monster!” Instantly, they shielded her, and Bobby ordered the staff to throw me out. I looked at them protecting her, then at my bleeding leg, and the last flicker of hope died. As the servants dragged me away, the great doors of the villa slammed shut, severing the final tie between me and that house. From that day forward, the Thorne family and I were finished. “Give me that picture! You don’t deserve to touch it!” Clara’s shout pulled me back to the present. I looked up just in time to see Bobby wrestling with her over my mother’s faded portrait. With a sickening rip, the photo tore in two. As Bobby lunged again, his foot kicked the pile of letters on the ground. He bent down, picked one up, and tore it open. As he read, his expression froze. “Dad! Look at this!” He thrust the letter at our father. My father glanced at it dismissively, but as his eyes scanned the page, his face went deathly pale.

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After being reborn, I decided to become everything Jason hates. He likes girls with long hair; he likes women who are gentle and demure. So, I chopped off my waist-length hair. I went surfing, skiing, and partied all night with my friends. In my past life, I only found out after we got married that he had always been in love with his adopted sister, Felicity. His mother threatened suicide to keep them apart, so he married me as a compromise. Why? Because I looked a little like her. After the wedding, he was cold to me, constantly entangled with Felicity. I cried, I fought, and in the end, on my way to ask for a divorce, I died in a car crash, full of regret. In this life, my friend asked me, confused: “Are you doing all this to get Jason’s attention?” “No,” I said. “I’m doing this to get away from him.” 1 My best friend, Lily, was celebrating her birthday. She invited me to the party. When I walked into the private room, the place was buzzing. No one paid attention to me. Until I walked up to Lily. “Whoa, Gwen! You cut your hair?!” Lily has no inside voice. Her shout made everyone turn their heads. The room went silent. Everyone’s eyes landed on my new bob cut. Their expressions were… complicated. I pretended not to notice. I smiled. “Yeah, just got it cut. The stylist said it suits me. Does it look okay?” “It looks good.” “Yeah, very nice.” A few scattered compliments. But while they said the words, their eyes drifted nervously in one direction. “I don’t think it looks good at all.” The blunt criticism cut through the polite murmurs. In that direction, Felicity covered her mouth, looking like she’d made a mistake. She looked “regretful.” “Oops, sorry Gwen. I just blurted out what I was thinking. You know I’m just straightforward like that. You won’t be mad, right?” Before I could say anything, Jason stood up. He looked right at me and repeated it. “Yeah. It doesn’t look good at all.” He defended her immediately. The atmosphere got awkward fast. I shrugged, unbothered. “It doesn’t matter. I like it.” 2 Jason called me outside. We stood facing each other in the hallway. The dim lighting cast shadows over his handsome face, but I could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface. “Gwen, who told you to cut your hair? Didn’t I say I like long hair on girls? As my girlfriend, you…” “Jason.” I cut him off. “Let’s break up.” The air froze for a second. He frowned, about to speak. Inside the room, the sound of Felicity and Lily arguing erupted. Jason’s frown deepened. He scoffed, tossed a careless “Suit yourself” over his shoulder, and rushed back inside. I watched his retreating back and let out a long breath. 3 I met Jason in high school. Freshman year, I broke my leg dancing and had to use crutches. Because of that, I got bullied a lot. They called me “Cripple.” They tripped me on purpose. Once, some kids stole my homework. I couldn’t chase them, and I was crying out of frustration when I met Jason. Sometimes, you fall for someone in a single moment. Jason not only helped me, but he also protected me for three years. Even after my leg healed, following him became a habit. Everyone knew I liked him. He casually mentioned he liked girls with long hair, so I grew mine out. He said girls should be “gentle and quiet,” so I quit the dance team. I stopped skiing. I stopped surfing. I gave up my friends, my hobbies, and carved myself into a shape he liked until I was unrecognizable. My efforts paid off. We started dating. He even took me to meet his family. His family had an adopted daughter named Felicity. When I met her, she clung to Jason’s arm intimately. “Gwen is so pretty. You’re lucky, big bro. Hee hee, Gwen and I actually look a bit alike.” A casual remark, laced with hidden hostility. I didn’t think much of it then. I didn’t notice Jason stiffen for a second. In my past life, I married Jason. But after the wedding, he was always cold. Until Felicity sent me a video of them together. In the video, they were doing things only a husband and wife should do. Felicity’s taunting words were like a knife to my heart. “If Mom hadn’t stopped us, I would be Mrs. Sterling!” “You think marrying him means you won? Hardly. He doesn’t love you. You’re just a replacement for me!” Shocked and furious, I coughed up blood. I grabbed my documents and drove to find Jason to demand a divorce. But I crashed on the way. I died in agony. I never expected to open my eyes again. Reborn. Back to when we first got into college. This time, I tried hard to become everything Jason hated. That unrecognizable replacement? I quit. 4 When I went back into the room, Felicity was crying in Jason’s arms. Jason looked cold. He stared at Lily and said, “Lily, apologize to my sister.” Lily straightened her neck. “Why should I apologize to that pick-me girl?” “She started badmouthing Gwen first. I just called her out. If you want an apology, make her apologize to Gwen first!” Felicity’s eyes were red. She spoke in a small, aggrieved voice. “But I was just telling the truth. Is that wrong…” She looked up, tears shimmering in her eyes. She looked like she had suffered the greatest injustice in the world. Lily wasn’t buying it. “Calling you a pick-me and saying you have a foul mouth is also telling the truth. I’m not wrong either!” “Lily! Enough!” Jason shouted. His tall frame stepped forward, imposing and threatening. Lily didn’t back down an inch. Just then, they all saw me. A glint of calculation flashed in Felicity’s eyes. “Gwen, you’re finally back.”

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Julian Thorne, a man who never cared about holidays, unexpectedly ordered me a milk tea on the first day of autumn. But he sent it to my old workplace. My former colleague called me: “Your husband is quite the romantic, sending reminders to us ex-colleagues even on minor holidays.” “But, how come the famous Lawyer Thorne only got you a one-dollar bubble tea?” I heard a hint of mockery in her teasing tone. Hanging up the phone, I looked at his young assistant’s Instagram post. “Thanks to the boss for transferring 520,000 dollars to me, telling me to buy out the whole milk tea shop.” In the chat screenshot, the profile picture she deliberately forgot to blur out was the cartoon couple avatar he had suddenly changed to a few days ago. My ex-colleague deliberately mailed that cup of milk tea to me via same-city express. Holding the half-finished, sticky milk tea, I thought about our marriage. A pity to throw away, but uncomfortable to hold. 1 Holding this half-cup of milk tea that I didn’t know whether to toss or drink, I arrived at Julian Thorne’s law firm. Pushing open the office door, the laughter inside stopped abruptly. Fiona Hill’s hand hurriedly retracted from his waist. The doting smile on his face vanished, replaced by a slight frown. Fiona passed by me, giving me an unnatural smile: “Mrs. Thorne, you chat with Mr. Thorne. I’ll get back to work!” I stopped her. “Please return the 520,000 dollars you received. That is the joint property of my husband and me.” “You’re a young girl; you wouldn’t want people calling you a mistress, right?” Fiona’s eyes reddened as she looked back at Julian aggrievedly. Julian’s face darkened, and he pulled me over. “You open your mouth and try to ruin a young girl’s reputation?” “She’s been working hard lately. This is a reward from the firm.” Looking at his anxious defense, he seemed to have forgotten. A few days ago, when I was helping him negotiate a partnership with a client, the client’s wife rushed in, splashed coffee all over me, and cursed me out. He only advised me lightly to endure it for the sake of the firm. I shook off his hand and looked straight at him. “Is it a reward from the firm or… a personal reward from you?” “If it’s a firm reward, please go through the company account.” “At least finance should check if they want to sign off on this.” He, an eloquent lawyer, was speechless at this moment. I wished he would argue and explain to me. Even like when the firm was first established. He hugged me tightly from behind and promised: “Honey, a mysterious investor took a fancy to my talent and injected capital into the firm.” “From now on, you manage the accounts for both home and the firm. I want to be a henpecked husband who asks you for money.” But now he just stood there with a cold face, and there was even a trace of imperceptible disgust in his eyes. Fiona bit her lip lightly and took out her phone helplessly. “Mrs. Thorne, please don’t misunderstand. Mr. Thorne just takes care of me because I’m young.” “I’ll return the money right away!” Watching Fiona finish the operation and run out wiping tears. Julian looked at me coldly. “Are you satisfied now?” “Sarah, bullying a young girl with the title of Mrs. Thorne, you’re really capable.” “Do you need that 520,000 dollars so badly?” It wasn’t the first time I heard such a mocking tone. Last time, he lent my car to Fiona without saying hello. When I found out, he had the same demeanor. “Is it necessary to be so petty?” “It’s just sitting there anyway.” “Letting Fiona drive it for a few days can even help maintain it for you.” His charitable tone made it seem like I should thank his little assistant. 2 At the time, I wanted to ask him if he, as a husband, was also “just sitting there” and needed to be lent to her too? But I held back. I placed the half-cup of milk tea on his desk. My eyes were moist. “Julian, let’s get a divorce!” His eyes flickered slightly, unable to control his anger anymore. “Just because I transferred 520,000 dollars to Fiona as a reward?” “Sarah, can you stop being unreasonable?” “I’m getting busy. If you have nothing to do, you might as well go home and figure out how to give the Thorne family a son.” Watching him impatiently issue the eviction order. My heart stung painfully. Seven years ago, just graduated from college, I was pregnant with his child. After his business failed, he hugged me and choked up: “I want to keep him too.” “But Sarah, I can’t even afford an abortion now. How can I afford to raise a child?” Waking up from the surgery, I cried bitterly, hurting my body fundamentally. He knew all this; he clearly knew! I held back the tears that were about to burst out and spoke stubbornly: “Why don’t you check where you sent the milk tea you ordered for me?” He took out his phone doubtfully, then snorted coldly. “Isn’t it just forgetting to change the address?” “You used to say I wasn’t romantic. Now that I am romantic for once, you’re finding fault.” “When did you become so dramatic?” He dismissed me perfunctorily as usual. “Alright, alright, I’ll have dinner with you tonight, okay?” Watching him sit at his desk, too lazy to even lift his head. He had long forgotten the resignation letter he mailed to my former workplace for me. Also forgotten how he proudly called me. His voice loud and clear, penetrating the entire office area. “Sarah, my law firm is taking shape. I can finally boldly say I’ll support you.” “I want those snobbish colleagues who usually look down on you to be envious and jealous.” But I didn’t expect that the second time he used this address, it would only bring me humiliation. I knew it was useless to say more and left silently. Turning around at the door, I saw him disgustedly throw that half-cup of milk tea into the trash can. Before I even walked home, Julian’s message came. “Have a social engagement tonight.” Prepared in my heart, I still felt a sense of loss and sadness. Since he recruited Fiona, the little assistant. Late returns and broken promises had become common. I had complained. He retorted impatiently. “I have to work and train newcomers.” “I’m tired. Can’t you understand me?” “Do you think everyone is like you, doing nothing all day, watching TV, and shopping?” Before I could put away my phone. Fiona’s provocative message also came in. “Sarah, why check my Moments sneakily?” “After you left, Mr. Thorne bought me a diamond necklace to apologize. The price is also 520,000 dollars.” Looking at the photo she sent. It was actually the one I took a fancy to when Julian invited me to the mall a few days ago, which was rare. When I wanted to buy it, he refused me. “You stay at home all day. Who are you wearing it for?” Only now did I know he just treated me as a female who could give him advice. I covered my breathless chest and quickly took a screenshot. Just after I finished screenshotting, she recalled all the messages. After getting home, I lay on the bed in a daze, groggily answering the phone that kept ringing. A low and deep voice came into my ears. “You asked a former suitor to handle your divorce case?” “Sarah, you’re really something.” Recognizing it was Caden Sterling, I remembered. Before going to Julian’s law firm, I contacted him first. 3 Unable to respond to him, I whimpered in discomfort, cold sweat soaking the sheets. The voice on the phone became urgent and angry. “Sarah, are you sick?” “Where is Julian?” “Don’t hang up, wait for me.” I had a fever. I only knew there was someone by my side silently and carefully taking care of me. A tear inexplicably spilled from the corner of my eye. Julian still cared about me. I slept peacefully until dawn. Thinking of the gentle and careful care last night, the suppressed corners of my mouth rose slightly. Walking to the living room, I stood frozen there. Julian was thoughtfully covering Fiona, who was lying on the sofa, with a blanket. He lowered his head, staring obsessively at her luscious lips. At the moment he was about to touch them, he pulled away in a panic. Turning his head to see me, he explained somewhat unnaturally. “Fiona got drunk accompanying me to a social event last night. I could only bring her back.” After speaking, he urged me continuously. “Aren’t you best at making hangover soup? Go make a bowl now.” Hangover soup? That was the recipe I shamelessly asked Caden for, just because I was worried about his health. I clenched my fists tight. Nails digging into my flesh, feeling nothing. He urged impatiently again. “What are you standing there for? Hurry up and make it!” I looked at him trembling and spoke. “Julian, how can you take care of two women in one night?” He was slightly stunned, looking at me bafflingly. “What two women?” “I just brought Fiona back…” Only then did he see my pale face, walked over and reached out his hand. “You’re sick?” I dodged subconsciously. My mind was in chaos. If it wasn’t him last night, who was it? He withdrew his hand frozen in the air. “Sarah, did you take a cold shower again last night?” “To get my attention, you really have all sorts of tricks.” “Are you still the carefree Sarah from before? Can you stop being so dramatic?” I took an uncontrollable step back, my pale face losing even more color. Seven years ago, he blushed and asked me to be his girlfriend. “Sarah, you know what? You’re like the sun. I feel comfortable and relaxed with you.” Five years ago, he hugged me tightly out of jealousy. “Sarah, can you care about me a little more?” “I can’t stand your indifferent look all day. I am your property.” Three years ago, he coldly left me alone in the hospital. “Sarah, yesterday you had a stomachache, today you have a cold. Tomorrow are you going to say you have a terminal illness?” “You’re so old, how come you’re not as understanding as Fiona?” When I loved him more and more. He seemed to love me less! Seemingly unable to see my sadness, he grabbed my wrist hard and pushed me into the kitchen. “Hurry up. Fiona and I have to go to work later.” “Unlike you, like a parasite, doing nothing all day.” The kitchen door was slammed shut with a “bang”. I was isolated inside alone. Like being sealed in an airtight box, the air was thin. My body went limp, and I curled up in a corner. He even forgot I had claustrophobia. Tears could no longer be controlled, flowing like a broken dam. Looking at “Mom” flashing continuously on the phone. I hurriedly wiped away the tears and took a deep breath. “Sarah, your dad has been sued. Hurry up and bring Julian over.” Mom’s anxious voice came from the phone. I stumbled open the kitchen door and ran out. But the empty living room was already devoid of anyone. 4 I called Julian. He answered after a long time. “Making a hangover soup is like killing you.” “Fiona was woken up by you. I’m taking her to get some breakfast now. Stop causing trouble.” Before I could speak, he hung up coldly. I adjusted my emotions and rushed home anxiously. Mom started crying as soon as she saw me. “Sarah, your dad just scratched his leg on the bus, and the girl sitting opposite him accused him of sexual harassment.” “How old is your dad? How can he bear such a stigma?” “But with Julian, a big lawyer, here, we must actively respond to the lawsuit. We are not afraid.” Perhaps he also received Mom’s call. Julian arrived in a hurry. Like a qualified son-in-law, he methodically comforted Mom. Watching his steadiness and composure, I seemed to see a pillar of support. When the court session opened, I held Mom’s hand tightly. Looking in disbelief as he held Fiona’s hand and actually walked to the plaintiff’s seat. He looked at me righteously. “I won’t bend the law for personal relationships. As a lawyer, I will definitely stand on the side of justice.” “If your dad made a mistake, he should be punished as he deserves.” I didn’t expect that the girl suing my father was actually Fiona. Because Fiona was defended by him, the best lawyer in North City, we lost the first trial. Walking out of the court. Reporters crowded the entrance, attacking my father with the most vicious language. “So old and still disrespectful?” “It’s not that the old turn bad, but the bad grow old.” “You have a daughter too. Do you have dirty thoughts about your own daughter?” Onlookers pointed at our family even more. “Looking decent and kind, how could he do such obscene things?” “The girl is kind-hearted, only asking him to kneel and apologize. That’s already saving him face.” “In my opinion, he should be locked up and drop the soap in prison.” Someone even ran up to my father and spat on his face. My father, a university professor, couldn’t bear it and spat out a mouthful of blood. I supported my father’s crumbling body. Julian walked past us expressionlessly. He just snorted coldly. “A family of drama queens.” Then he left heartlessly. Fiona walked over slowly from behind him, leaning close to me. “Sarah, how can an incompetent housewife like you still have the face to cling to Mr. Thorne and suck his blood?” “This is just a small lesson. I hope you can take the initiative to divorce Mr. Thorne.” “Besides…” She raised the corner of her mouth: “I’m pregnant. It’s Julian’s.” After speaking, she proudly got into the passenger seat that used to belong to me. “Before the case is completely over, I don’t mind bringing the Sterling legal team to sue you reporters for defamation and completely ban you from this industry.” “Including you passersby who insult others without knowing the situation, I will settle accounts one by one.” When I was in despair, a stern warning sounded. Immediately, those reporters were silent as cicadas in winter. The crowd also dispersed muttering. With hazy eyes, I looked up. It was Caden. Julian just walked into the company. A subordinate pulled a cart piled with mail as tall as a person, running in panic. “Mr. Thorne, bad news. The firm received a huge pile of lawsuit documents.” He sat proudly in his chair. “This is a good thing. It proves our firm’s business is increasing and we are about to soar in North City.” Fiona excitedly helped move those documents down. The subordinate spoke carefully: “But Mr. Thorne…” “These documents are all suing you and Assistant Hill.”

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1 At the company dinner, everyone got to order a dish. When it was my turn, the new intern, Sienna, snatched the menu from my hand. “We have enough food. No more ordering.” I ignored her and turned to the waiter. “I’d like an order of the sweet ricotta fritters.” Sienna slammed the menu onto my face, her eyes blazing with fury. “I said no more ordering. Who do you think you are?” The hard edge of the menu left a stinging red line across my cheek. A fire ignited in my chest, mirroring the pain on my face. I snatched the menu and threw it right back at her. She shrieked. “Do you have any idea who I am? My father is Brett Croft, the CEO of our biggest client! Even our own boss has to treat me with respect. How dare you lay a hand on me? Believe it or not, I can have your Sales Champion title revoked and get you blacklisted from the entire industry!” I stared at her, my face a perfect meme of utter confusion. My own uncle, Brett Croft, a confirmed bachelor for forty years… since when did he have a daughter this old? Seeing my stunned silence, Sienna grew even more arrogant. “What, scared now? A gold digger like you who sleeps her way to the top… we’re lucky the air isn’t polluted just by you being here. And you think you have the right to order food?” Sleeps her way to the top? I worked my fingers to the bone, pulling all-nighters to perfect my proposals. I spent eight hours a day eating dust on construction sites, getting so tanned my own mother barely recognized me. And she had the audacity to say I got by on my looks? I pushed my chair back and stood up to face her. “Watch your mouth, Sienna. I earn my results through hard work. My abilities are plain for everyone to see. You have no right to judge me. And this is a company dinner, not your private party. If I don’t have the right to order, then you have even less. No wonder I smelled something foul when I walked in. It was the garbage spewing from your mouth!” A ripple of stifled laughter went through the room. My colleagues had long been fed up with Sienna’s arrogance. In the month she’d been an intern, she’d treated everyone like her personal servant. When a new hire, Tina, refused to get her coffee, Sienna poured the entire scalding cup over Tina’s head, leaving a blister on her scalp. Not only did she refuse to apologize, but she also threatened her. “You dare ask me for an apology? I’ll have you fired!” In the end, the company had to cover Tina’s medical bills. I had wanted to intervene back then, but my colleagues held me back. I couldn’t understand why they were all so afraid to speak up. Now I knew. They were all intimidated by her self-proclaimed title: “Brett Croft’s daughter.” Sienna’s face was crimson with rage. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “Nina! Don’t get cocky. Without my dad’s support, this company would go bankrupt. I’m telling you, I’m in charge at this dinner. If I say you can’t order, you can’t!” She spat, “Who the hell do you think you are? You order one more thing, and I’ll make sure you’re gone by tomorrow!” The waiter looked at me, caught in the middle. “Ma’am, will you still be ordering?” “Yes,” I said without a moment’s hesitation. I refused to back down. I had generated tens of millions in revenue for this company with a single project. I wasn’t even allowed to order one dessert? 2 “What’s all the commotion?” The CEO, Mr. White, pushed the door open, his face a thundercloud. “This is a company dinner, not a wrestling match. What’s going on?” Sienna, seizing the opportunity, put on a pitiful expression and twisted the entire story. Before I could even get a word in, Mr. White’s cold gaze landed on me. “Nina, you’ve been with us for a year. Don’t you know that frugality is a core company value? Sienna was just being considerate of the company’s expenses. Will you starve if you miss one dish? And hitting someone is completely out of line. You will apologize to Sienna immediately and pay her ten thousand dollars for emotional distress. Then we’ll consider this matter closed.” I almost laughed out loud. I looked him straight in the eye. “Mr. White, are you sure you want me to apologize and pay her?” His expression darkened. Tina tugged at my sleeve, whispering, “Nina, don’t be stubborn. Sienna is Brett Croft’s daughter. You can’t afford to cross her. Mr. White is counting on her to close the deal with Apex.” I couldn’t help but scoff. “She says Brett Croft is her father, and you all just believe her? Did she bring her birth certificate to the interview?” Tina pulled out her phone and showed me Sienna’s social media profile. “It’s true. Mr. Croft himself dropped her off on her first day.” I looked at the photo and my jaw nearly hit the floor. There was my handsome, well-dressed uncle, standing in front of a luxury car. And next to him, unbelievably, was Sienna. Sienna had even added a caption: Thanks, Dad, for taking time out of your busy schedule to drop me off for my internship. I won’t let you down. I immediately tried to call my uncle, but the line went straight to a robotic “the user’s phone is switched off” message. Seeing my refusal to apologize, Sienna shot me a malevolent glare. “You’ll regret this, Nina. I’ll make you pay.” The next day, I found out what she meant by “pay.” At the awards ceremony, the Sales Champion title and the five-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus that should have been mine were awarded to Sienna. They hadn’t even had time to change my name on the award speech slide in the presentation. This was blatant robbery. A fire surged in my chest. I immediately stood up and demanded an explanation. “What is the criterion for the Sales Champion award? My project sales this month exceeded one billion, generating over ten million in revenue for the company. I’m five million ahead of the runner-up. Sienna hasn’t closed a single deal. I would like to ask the management, on what grounds are you giving my award to her?” The conference hall fell silent. The heads of finance and sales exchanged nervous glances, neither daring to speak. Sienna looked at me with an arrogant smirk. “Obviously, it’s because your projects were secured through… dishonorable means. The company cannot condone such vile behavior. For now, we’ve only revoked your title. If you continue to damage the company’s reputation with your sordid tactics, you’ll be fired.” I was shaking with anger. My eyes swept across the faces of the management on the stage. The same people who used to praise my skills and call me a rising star were now avoiding my gaze, staring at their shoes like cowards. I turned to the highest authority, Mr. White. “Mr. White, is this your decision as well?” Being called out in public clearly irritated him. He frowned. “Nina, the company has its reasons. Don’t disrupt the awards ceremony over such a small matter. You need to see the bigger picture.” “The bigger picture?” My eyes reddened, my voice trembling. “Is the bigger picture that I work year-round, working overtime late into the night, breaking my back to land projects, only to have them handed over to someone else?” That you’ll erase all my hard work based on a baseless rumor and do nothing? Where is the fairness in that? Where is the justice? Don’t you feel any guilt treating a dedicated employee this way?” Mr. White was speechless. Sienna, however, showed no shame. She lifted her chin, a sneer on her face. “Fairness? Don’t be so naive, Nina. In this world, fairness belongs to those with power. You want justice? Go find a rich daddy to get it for you. Too bad you don’t have one.” She made no effort to hide her contempt. “But I do. My identity as the daughter of Brett Croft, CEO of the Apex Group, is enough to crush you for the rest of your life.” I stared at her, wondering where she got her confidence. I even started to question if my uncle had secretly fathered an illegitimate child. Suddenly, I spoke. “I heard Mr. Croft has a niece whom he adores as if she were his own. I wonder, Miss Sales Champion, have you ever met her?” Sienna’s expression froze for a second, then she shot me a dismissive glance. “That’s my cousin. Of course, I’ve met her. But she’s always been abroad and rarely comes back. Even I hardly see her. A low-life commoner like you could never even dream of meeting her.” I snorted. “Is that so? You’re not a low-life, yet you’re stealing someone else’s award and bonus? Could it be that you’re a fake?” “You!” Sienna’s face turned ashen. She glared at me. “Nina, don’t push it! Your title was revoked because you’re unworthy. I, on the other hand, earned it through my own merit!” “Merit?” I took a step forward, my eyes boring into hers. “You mean the merit of slacking off and playing games all day at work, taking two-hour lunch breaks, and leaving at five on the dot? Or the merit of staring at a computer all day and only managing to type the word ‘proposal’ into a PowerPoint slide?” My words were slow and deliberate, each one a sharp jab at her pride. Her mouth hung open, but no words came out. She looked to Mr. White for help. His face flashed with disappointment before he turned to me, his voice stern. “Nina! Watch your tone! This is a company, not a marketplace. You will not make a scene!” 3 “Don’t think that just because you’ve landed a few projects you can do whatever you want. It’s survival of the fittest. You need to accept that you’ve been replaced by someone better. Stop being unreasonable!” All eyes were on me, waiting to see me make a fool of myself, to watch me burn my bridges with the company over a five-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus. Five hundred thousand? I wouldn’t bat an eye at five million. What I wanted was fairness. I wasn’t angry. I didn’t argue. I just smiled, a bitter, ironic smile. “Alright. I accept. The Sales Champion title should, indeed, go to someone more deserving.” As soon as I got back to my desk, HR sent out two announcements. Employee Nina has been found to be misusing company funds for lavish personal expenses, a serious violation of company policy. Therefore, Nina is hereby stripped of her position as Sales Manager and suspended pending investigation. Intern Sienna has demonstrated great courage in protecting the company’s interests and has shown outstanding performance during her internship, generating significant revenue. She is hereby promoted to a full-time position, assuming the role of Sales Manager and taking over all of Nina’s ongoing projects. Immediately after, Mr. White tagged me in the company group chat. Nina, your extravagance and disregard for company policy are unacceptable. Your bonus for this month is docked. You are to write a ten-thousand-word self-criticism and post it in this group for all other employees to learn from. This was beyond humiliating. They stripped me of my title, docked my pay, made an example of me, and sacrificed me on the altar of their own authority. The group chat fell silent. The entire office was plunged into a dead quiet. All eyes were on me, some filled with pity, some with regret, some with indignation, and some with undisguised glee. The message just sat there, everyone waiting for me to post my humiliating apology. Mr. White tagged me again: Didn’t you see this? I still didn’t reply. He started tagging me repeatedly, like a madman. Tina sent me a private message: Nina, don’t be stubborn. Just give in. Your job is what’s important. I smiled at her, and the smile brought tears to my eyes. My stiff fingers tapped on my phone, my hands trembling as I replied: Message received, sir. I will remember this lesson and will never again be so extravagant as to order a forty-dollar dish. At the next company dinner, I will only drink water. My seemingly apologetic message was like a drop of water in a sizzling pan of oil. On the surface, it was calm, but underneath, it was a clear declaration of an employee’s utter disappointment in their company. I logged out of all my company accounts and began my “suspension” in earnest. Mr. White, citing that I was no longer in a managerial role, moved me to a desk right next to the restrooms. I was forced to endure the pitying and contemptuous glances of my colleagues as they came and went. Sienna sat smugly at my old desk, ordering the department around. But my seat wasn’t so easy to fill. I had personally handled every single one of my projects, from design to execution. I knew every detail. Sienna knew nothing. Within a few days, a dozen clients had complained, demanding that I be put back on their projects or they would cancel their contracts. The company was facing massive penalty fees. Mr. White finally couldn’t take it anymore. He condescended to come to my new desk. “Nina, you were handling these projects. There are some technical issues now. Go and coordinate with the clients. We need to make sure they are satisfied.” I looked up, my expression blank. “Mr. White, I think you have the wrong person. I’m suspended.” He paused, his tone stiff. “You still have to work while you’re suspended. It’s company policy. You’re responsible for your projects from start to finish.” I shrugged. “But I’ve already logged out of all my accounts. I can’t access anything.” His face froze, his eyes filled with rage. “Suspension isn’t termination! Why did you log out? Reapply for access immediately.” I looked at him calmly. “You were the one who said I was no longer in a position of authority. I was just following your orders.” Mr. White was losing face, but he gritted his teeth and tried again. “Alright. You’re reinstated. Now get in touch with the clients and stop them from canceling.” I smiled. “Mr. White, shouldn’t you be asking your ‘more deserving’ Sales Champion to handle this? A gold digger like me who gets by on her looks doesn’t have that kind of ability.” His face turned a deep shade of purple as he struggled to control his anger. “Nina, that was just a joke between colleagues. Are you really taking it seriously?” My smile remained, but it was laced with ice. “Was it also a joke when my title was revoked and I lost a five-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus? Was it a joke when a forty-dollar dish was deemed an act of ‘lavish personal expense’?” Each word was a slap in the face. His face went from red to white to a sickly shade of purple. He was silent. I knew he was wrestling with himself. Admitting he was wrong was not something a big boss like him did. Just then, Sienna ran over, her face beaming. “Mr. White, Apex has agreed to invest!” A triumphant smile spread across Mr. White’s face. “Excellent! Sienna, you’re the company’s lucky star! With Apex backing us, those clients will be begging to work with us.” He turned and shot me a venomous glare. “Nina, you’re fired. Go and pack your things now.” I nodded calmly. “Fine. I demand compensation as stipulated by my contract.” He roared, his face contorted with rage. “Compensation? You’ve caused the company huge losses! You’ll be lucky if we don’t sue you!” Sienna looked at me with pure malice. “Nina, I’ll have you blacklisted from the entire industry.” I just smiled faintly. “I’ll be waiting.”

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My stepbrother is the icy, ruthless villain in a novel. To keep him too busy to commit crimes, I decided to harass him daily with unhinged text messages from an anonymous number: “Baby, you look so good when you don’t wear your shirt properly at the gym. I want a taste.” “Baby, you look so sexy when you sweat. I want every drop to land on me.” “Baby, the way you stare at your phone trying to figure out who I am is so cute. I like you even more now.” My brother was deeply disturbed. Every day, he would come home and lecture me about safety and morality, looking exhausted. Finally, the male and female leads got their happy ending. My mission was complete. I packed my bags overnight, ready to flee the country. But before I could even board the plane, I was snatched. When I opened my eyes, he was slowly, methodically tying my wrists with his silk tie. “If you like Big Brother so much,” he whispered, his voice dark, “why are you trying to leave?” Chapter 1 “Baby, you’re being naughty. Why did you drink the wine someone else handed you?” This was the third time I’d channeled my inner stalker to text my brother. The first few times, he’d read them and ignored them. He didn’t take me seriously at all. Just as I thought this attempt would fail too, he replied. His tone was as stern as ever: “Stop sending me these kinds of messages. I don’t like it.” Good. He didn’t like it. If he liked it, my plan would be ruined. So, facing his displeasure, I typed back: “I don’t care if you like me, Baby. I like you, and that’s enough. ^_^” Julian saw that I was incorrigible and stopped replying. I tapped my screen, wanting to add fuel to the fire, but I heard the front door open. I frantically deleted the chat history and ran to the door, taking his suit jacket like a dutiful sister. “Julian, you’re home early.” Julian rubbed his temples wearily. “Mn.” I looked at the dark circles under his eyes and secretly rejoiced. It was working. He wasn’t sleeping well. I almost laughed out loud. Julian glanced at me, frowning slightly. “What are you smiling at?” I wiped the grin off my face and moved behind him to massage his shoulders. “I’m just happy you’re home early.” He looked at me suspiciously. Before he could ask what trouble I’d caused, I tested the waters. “Julian, you look terrible lately. Are you tired?” Julian, who had been enjoying the massage, stiffened. His expression darkened. The more he avoided it, the more I pressed. “Brother, did something happen?” I asked, feigning concern. Julian stood up abruptly. “Nothing,” he muttered, then hurried upstairs. Watching his retreating back, I smirked. I really was disgusting him. Mission on track. (^_^)V Chapter 2 Julian and I are step-siblings. After my mom married his dad, he never really liked me. He thought I was too loud, too rebellious. I didn’t like him either. He was too disciplined, acting like an old man in a young man’s body. We stayed out of each other’s way, maintaining a polite facade for our parents. Then, his father died in a riot while on a business trip abroad. My mother couldn’t handle the blow; she fell ill and followed him days later. Since then, Julian stopped finding me annoying. No matter what trouble I caused, he would just pat my head and tell me not to be afraid. And I stopped causing trouble just to see his composure crack. Our relationship improved by leaps and bounds. Then, last year, I got really sick. I had a fever so high I saw my life flash before my eyes. I had a series of vivid dreams. In the dreams, Julian was the villain in a novel—cold-blooded and ruthless. He cut the brake lines on the Hero’s car. He hired paparazzi to ruin the Heroine’s reputation. On the day the leads were supposed to get married, he wasn’t idle either. He crashed the wedding and kidnapped the Heroine. In the end, like all villains who talk too much, he died miserably. They didn’t even find his whole body. And as the villain’s sister, I was cannon fodder. My death was merely a plot device to push him into darkness. I woke up and swore I would change our fate. The first thing I did was force Julian to swear he’d be a good person. Chapter 3 But soon, I realized that wouldn’t work. I couldn’t bet my life on a villain’s promise. I ate pounds of walnuts for brain power and finally came up with a new plan. I had to stop Julian from meeting the main characters. I had to nip his villainy in the bud. So, I started reading the Hero’s scandals to Julian every day. I read them while he peeled apples, while he cooked, and even while he was in the shower—I’d squat by the door and shout the gossip through the wood. Julian had high moral standards. If I convinced him the Hero was trash, he’d avoid doing business with him. No business, no meeting, no villain arc. But soon, I realized this wasn’t working either. One day, while Julian was cracking walnuts for me, I read him another scandal. Usually, he ignored me. But this time, he paused. “Are you interested in him?” he asked, turning to look at me. I was in the zone, so I just hummed in agreement. When the sound of cracking walnuts got aggressively loud, I realized my mistake and shook my head frantically. Julian didn’t buy it. “You’ve read over a hundred articles about him to me.” “Yesterday you said he was handsome.” I paused. True. After reading so much gossip, I was the one getting annoyed with the Hero, Ethan. I had started reading with attitude. Yesterday, I slipped and said, “Shame he’s trash, because his face is nice.” Julian only heard the first half. Terrified that he might get interested in Ethan, I clarified immediately. “He’s okay looking, but I have absolutely no—” Interest. Before I could finish, Julian cut me off. “You have an interest? You like him?” A question mark slowly materialized over my head. I’m reading you his blackmailer files, and you think I like him? Seeing I didn’t deny it instantly, Julian pressed his lips into a thin line. After a long silence, he spoke, his voice tight. “It’s normal to have crushes at your age. But based on recent news, his character is questionable. Until I investigate him fully, you are not allowed to contact him.” He spoke fast, like he was afraid I’d interrupt. Then he grabbed his coat and stormed out. By evening, a dossier as thick as a phone book landed in my hands. Chapter 4 I had already investigated Ethan, the Hero, when I first had the dreams. I knew his resume by heart. But the file Julian gave me was… different. The version I knew painted him as a saint. This file glossed over his achievements and detailed every bad thing he’d ever done. From pulling legs off ants at six to writing love letters at fifteen. It even included the content of the letters. I couldn’t guess Julian’s game, but I smelled danger. The file included a list of Ethan’s ex-girlfriends. And on that list was Her. Bella. The Heroine. In the story, Bella is like catnip to Julian. Realizing this, I stayed up all night brainstorming new ways to keep them apart. I tried telling him “horror stories” about couples like them. I signed him up for dating apps so he’d be too busy with blind dates. Nothing worked. The day Julian was destined to meet Bella was approaching. I was so anxious I was losing hair. Just as I was considering slipping sleeping pills into Julian’s coffee to make him sleep through the plot, I saw a video on TikTok. It was about a stalker character in a novel who harassed the protagonist so much they couldn’t focus on work. I condemned the behavior, obviously. But… could I use it on Julian? If he’s distracted by a stalker, he won’t have time to fall for the Heroine. I had no experience, so I spent three days studying “creepy text” methodology. Once I felt ready, I bought a burner SIM card and sent my first anonymous text: “Baby, my sweet Baby, I like you so much.” I thought Julian would be confused, or angry. I thought he’d try to track the number. But two hours passed. Nothing. Not even a reply. I bit my lip in disappointment. Did he not get it? Or was I not creepy enough? To find out, I went downstairs and asked to borrow his phone. He was reading files on the sofa. He handed it over without looking up. Afraid he’d check the background apps later, I opened Instagram first and voted for some random celebrity in a poll. While glancing at Julian to make sure he wasn’t watching, I opened his messages. My text was right at the top. Read. That wasn’t right… He saw it, so why was he so calm? Before I could figure it out, Julian reached out. “Give it back.” Startled, I tried to close the apps, but he snatched the phone away. He swiped the screen, a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. “What did you do on my phone?” Why was he acting guilty? Did he have secrets? “Nothing,” I said. “I just voted on a poll.” Julian opened Instagram, saw the voting pop-up, and relaxed visibly. “You like him now?” I hadn’t even looked at the name of the celebrity. But I nodded anyway. “Yeah, he’s handsome.” Julian zoomed in on the photo, scrutinizing every pixel. While he was distracted critiquing the guy, I secretly pulled out my phone and sent another anonymous text. “Why won’t you reply to me, Baby? That’s a bad habit.” The message alert dinged. Julian didn’t even frown. He just swiped it away. Still not creepy enough? I didn’t give up. I typed again: “Baby, I’m going crazy over you. I want to kiss you so bad.” Julian stiffened. A flush crept up his neck, turning his ears bright red. It worked! Overjoyed, I leaned in. “Julian, what’s wrong?” He closed his eyes, taking a long moment to compose himself. “Nothing.” Liar. I hid behind him, preparing to send another one. But before I could unlock my screen, Julian stood up abruptly. I jumped, nearly dropping my phone. “Brother?” He gripped his file so hard the paper crinkled. “I have work to handle. Don’t wait up for dinner.” He practically ran upstairs. Like he was fleeing a monster. I stared at his back, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face. He’s kind of cute when he’s scared.

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