Category: English

When my biological parents came to take me home, I looked reluctant. “I’ve heard that real daughters never win against the fake ones and end up suffering terribly. I’d rather not go back.” Hearing this, they rushed to comfort me. “Don’t be silly, Veronica is so gentle and kind. You’re sure to get along wonderfully with her.” I nodded, then pulled out my phone. “To prevent her from harming me, you need to understand the tricks fake daughters use. Here are a hundred web series about fake daughters causing trouble. Once you’ve watched them, I’ll come home with you.” After watching all hundred episodes, Mom and Dad were astounded. “Those are just made-up stories. Veronica would never act like that.” I remained noncommittal, pulling out an agreement. “Then sign this. Every time I’m harmed, you’ll have to compensate me. $5,000 for false accusations, $10,000 for minor injuries, and serious injuries we’ll negotiate.” Mom and Dad were convinced I was overthinking it and signed without hesitation. But they were quickly proven wrong. Less than half an hour after I arrived home, Veronica announced her necklace was missing. Her eyes were red, as if I had truly wronged her. “Eleanor, that platinum necklace was a birthday gift from Mom and Dad! Please give it back to me! I know you’re their real daughter, you can take anything else you want, just please give me back the necklace…” Mom and Dad immediately frowned, looking ready to grill me. I pulled out my phone with a straight face, opened one of the web series, and handed it to them. “See, the plot where someone frames another for theft is right here.” They froze, swallowing the accusations they were about to make, forcing awkward smiles. “Veronica, look again. Eleanor wouldn’t take your things.” Veronica looked genuinely stunned, probably not expecting Mom and Dad to side with me. “Are you all saying I’m lying? I get it now. Eleanor is back, so you don’t want me anymore. Why should I even stay here?” She sprang up abruptly and bolted for the door. I swiped through the clip. “Pretending to run away from home—that’s in here too.” Veronica froze, then burst into even louder sobs, vanishing into the night. “Veronica! It’s dangerous outside, come back!” Dad panicked and chased after her, even losing a shoe. Mom’s eyes welled up, and she couldn’t help but scold me. “Veronica is… you two are both my darlings, can’t you be a little nicer to her?” I felt confused. “She’s the one not being nice to me. She said I stole her necklace…” Before I could finish, Mom cut me off. “Veronica feels insecure right now. As the older one, you need to be more understanding and tolerant.” “Are you implying I should just take the blame for stealing?” Mom sighed. “Regardless, when she comes back, just apologize to her. She’s never experienced such unfairness growing up; I don’t know how upset she must be.” “Plenty of these shows have plots where the innocent one has to apologize to the wrongdoer.” Mom’s expression stiffened, and she didn’t dare say another word. I didn’t forget the agreement, silently opening my payment app. “$5,000 for false accusation. Please transfer the payment.”

I heard Dad found Veronica under a bridge. She was drenched from the heavy rain, her face deathly pale. After Dad carried her back, she threw herself onto the bed, thrashing and wailing. “Leave me alone! You all love Eleanor and don’t love me anymore…” Mom’s heart ached, and she burst into tears, quickly wrapping Veronica in a large towel, coaxing her in a hushed tone to change clothes. Dad kept checking her forehead, worried she might have a fever. “Veronica, sweetie, stop fussing. What’s a necklace worth? I’ll get you a whole diamond set, okay?” “No matter if Eleanor is here or not, you’ll always be Mom and Dad’s precious darling.” Hearing this, Veronica burst into tears. “Don’t lie to me…” Mom hugged her tightly, also crying uncontrollably. I understood then. So, those web series actually got it right. When there’s favoritism, blood ties don’t mean much. Luckily, I was prepared, otherwise, I don’t know how heartbroken I would have been. Dad saw me sitting quietly by myself, not showing any intention to help, and his face darkened as he snapped. “We’re a family! Are you just going to watch Veronica suffer like this?” I shrugged. “What do you want me to do?” “Go to the kitchen and bring the hot herbal tea the housekeeper brewed.” It was a small task, just doing a good deed. I went to the kitchen without a word and brought the herbal tea to Veronica’s lips. She was about to take a sip when, out of Mom and Dad’s sight, she shot me a defiant glare. Oh, here we go. Classic fake daughter move from those shows, right on cue. I remained calm, wanting to see what Veronica was planning. Sure enough, she nudged the bowl’s rim with her index finger, and the steaming hot tea splashed all over her. “It’s so hot! You burned me! Eleanor, you…” Veronica’s face showed a mix of shock and pain, as if in disbelief. Dad rushed over and shoved me aside. “Eleanor! Are you out of your mind? How could you do that to Veronica!” I slammed into the corner unexpectedly, and a huge bump quickly formed on my forehead. He looked like he wanted to hit me again, but Mom quickly grabbed his arm, her tone stern. “Eleanor, you really messed up. Apologize to Veronica!” I didn’t say a word. Instead, I pulled up a video clip, fast-forwarding to a scene where the fake daughter plays innocent to stir up trouble between the parents and the real one. “You watched it, and you already forgot? Your memory is terrible.” “This…” Mom and Dad exchanged glances, not daring to mention an apology again. They were busy getting burn cream and new pajamas for Veronica, and no one noticed the red, swollen bump on my forehead. After they finished fussing, my payment app pinged with another $10,000. Perfect. On my first day home, I’d already collected $15,000.

Feeling guilty about what happened, Mom and Dad showered me with concern for the next three days. Veronica also seemed like a changed person, calling me Eleanor this and Eleanor that, treating me incredibly well. Mom and Dad praised her with relief: “Veronica has matured. This is our good child.” Given her excellent behavior, Mom and Dad bought her a pile of luxury goods. On the fourth day, my younger brother, Sam, returned from his school trip. He excitedly showed off the gifts he’d bought for everyone. “Dad’s lighter, Mom’s perfume, Veronica’s silk scarf—I remembered what you all liked!” Everyone received beautifully wrapped gifts, except for me. Seeing the four of them happily together, I discreetly prepared to go back to my room. It was only when Mom noticed me leaving that she gasped: “Sam, didn’t you buy Eleanor a gift?” Sam pouted, “I only have Veronica.” Just then, Grandpa George, who had just walked in, heard this, and his blood pressure shot through the roof. The old man, who valued blood ties above all else, grabbed Sam’s ear. “You brat! Who taught you to talk like that? Eleanor is your real sister! Veronica was just raised here out of convenience; she’s an outsider! You don’t know who’s family? I’ll beat you!” The word “outsider” deeply stung Veronica. She didn’t dare argue with Grandpa George, only glaring at me, her eyes filled with resentment and hatred. Sam cried loudly from the pain. “I don’t know what an ‘outsider’ is, I only acknowledge Veronica!” Grandpa George twisted his ear even harder. Hearing their son’s ear-splitting cries, Mom and Dad were heartbroken, desperately begging Grandpa George to let go. “Please calm down, we’ll educate Sam properly…” “Hmph!” Grandpa George also couldn’t bear to let him cry further. He pulled me to the sofa. Looking around, he quickly figured out what was going on. “You’re the only one without a gift? Good, good, how could you do such a thing? Eleanor, I’ve got your back! The Sterling family’s heirloom jewelry? I’m only leaving it to you. No one else gets a share!” Veronica’s face crumpled in a show of hurt, tears welling in her eyes. Mom cautiously spoke up. “Veronica, shouldn’t she also…” Grandpa George refused decisively. “My possessions are only for members of the Sterling family. Some people have impure hearts; it’s better to send them away early.” Even with all her brazenness, Veronica couldn’t stay. She ran back to her room, tears streaming down her face. Dad blamed Grandpa George: “You spoke too harshly. I watched Veronica grow up; I know what kind of person she is better than you do.” “Idiot!” Grandpa George sneered. “How did I ever raise such a fool like you?”

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Before Valerie’s grandmother passed away, her dying wish was for Valerie to marry me. So, even though she still loved her high school sweetheart, Valerie stuck to our engagement. Until her high school sweetheart killed the puppy I’d raised since it was tiny. Valerie, yet again, chose to stand by him. This time, I didn’t argue. I just contacted my professor and applied to join his top-secret research project. Before I left, I gave myself seven days to sort everything out. On the first day, I took off the engagement ring, the one that was supposed to symbolize “forever.” On the third day, I handed in my resignation to the company. It wasn’t until the day I left that Valerie seemed to suddenly remember Lucky, promising to take me to pick out a new puppy tomorrow. Immediately after, she added, “Brandon needs a tux for the company’s charity gala tonight. Get it ready and send it over to him.” I smiled and agreed, and from that moment on, I disappeared from her life forever. Later, every time Valerie heard news of me, she would stare blankly at that engagement ring. It was the lover she could never get back, and the new puppy she would never get to give away…

Looking at the non-disclosure agreement in my hand, I signed my name without a moment’s hesitation. “Professor Davies, I’m ready to join the Rocket Development Project.” He looked at me with a hint of regret. “Julian, you need to understand, this project is highly classified. Once you’re in, you’ll need to go off-grid for at least ten years, cutting off all contact with the outside world.” “Aren’t you getting married soon? You should at least discuss this with your fiancée.” Remembering Valerie’s cold and resolute face, I shook my head with a bitter smile. “There’s no need.” Professor Davies was silent for a moment before finally nodding. “Alright. Get ready. We leave in seven days.” When I left Professor Davies’ office, it was raining. I didn’t bother with an umbrella, walking all the way back to that cold apartment, drenched. As expected, Valerie still wasn’t home. Brandon had taken Lucky, the puppy I’d raised since it was tiny, and when I confronted him, Valerie had snapped at me. I hadn’t seen her for three days since then. I pulled the ring off my finger and tossed it carelessly into the back of a drawer. It was “forever,” Valerie’s own design, symbolizing a lifetime of commitment, a promise of “till death do us part.” I had once been naive enough to believe we would grow old together. But ever since Brandon came back to the country, everything changed. Valerie stopped remembering my birthday, stopped caring about my feelings. I became nothing more than a disposable shadow in this house. I was about to take off my soaked shirt when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Brandon standing outside, a look of disdain and arrogance on his face. He casually nudged something on the ground with his foot. “Your dog. Unfortunately, it got hit by a car.” I stared in disbelief at his feet—Lucky’s tiny body was curled up there, his fur matted with mud and blood. My heart twisted, and my eyes instantly burned. Seeing my reaction, Brandon’s lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk. “It’s just a dog. Why are you crying like someone in your family died?” I couldn’t hold back anymore. I shot up and grabbed his collar. “You did this, didn’t you?!” Just then, Valerie rushed over, drawn by the noise. Her brows furrowed as she saw the scene. Brandon smoothly brushed my hand away and sighed at Valerie. “I understand he’s upset about his pet. But he seems to think this is my fault.” Valerie immediately glared at me, her eyes filled with displeasure. “Brandon was being kind, bringing Lucky back! Julian, you’re out of control.” I pointed at Lucky, my voice trembling. “Kind? Look at him!” Valerie’s gaze swept over the tiny body on the ground. A flicker of pity crossed her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by irritation. “It was just an accident! Julian, can’t you be more mature? We’re sad about it, but life goes on. Grandma’s trust fund for you is more than enough to handle this.” “A ‘dog’?” I stared at her, barely able to breathe. She knew what Lucky meant to me – he was the last gift my mother gave me before she died. She had once stood by my mother’s hospital bed, solemnly promising to take care of Lucky and me. Now, to defend Brandon, she casually dismissed him as “just a dog.” Valerie’s heart had clearly strayed beyond return. I was tired, too tired to argue anymore. Thinking of my impending departure, a sense of relief washed over me. Valerie ignored me, turning to Brandon, her tone softening. “It’s pouring outside. Let me walk you out.” Brandon nodded. As he turned to follow Valerie, he glanced back at me, a provocative glint in his eyes. Watching them walk away side-by-side, I smiled bitterly. It turned out the Valerie who had fallen for me at first sight, who had pursued me so passionately, had never truly loved me. I was just a comfort during her loneliness, and Brandon, he was her heart’s true desire. Now, her true love was back. It was time for me, the placeholder, to make my exit. But none of that mattered anymore. I locked the ring and the unsigned pre-nuptial agreement in the drawer. Valerie would never know that the agreement her grandmother had forced her to sign, stipulating that half her assets be transferred to me, I had never even taken to a lawyer for notarization, nor had I signed my name.

After Lucky’s cremation, I buried him next to my mother’s tombstone. Early on the third day, Professor Davies sent me the exact departure time. I replied, “Received,” then walked into the Human Resources office. The process of formally resigning went unusually smoothly, perhaps they had been displeased with me for a while. As soon as I closed the office door, hushed voices drifted out: “Quitting just like that? It’s different when your fiancée is about to be CEO. I heard Valerie’s grandmother designated half her trust fund to him.” “What CEO’s husband? They’re not even married yet. I bet it’s because Valerie transferred his key project to Brandon.” “Wasn’t that the project he’d been working on for almost two years? It was almost finished. Letting Brandon take over now is like letting him just waltz in and claim the credit.” “So what? Brandon is Valerie’s favorite.” I couldn’t blame them for thinking that. As soon as Brandon returned to the country, Valerie gave him a Senior Vice President position. Even though he was completely unqualified, she would personally hand projects to him. She even made me pull all-nighters to revise proposals for Brandon, to entertain clients for him, until I ended up hospitalized with a stomach hemorrhage. Even then, she merely said, “You owe him.” Listening to the continuous mockery, my heart remained calm. I just wished time would pass faster. Paperwork done, I returned to the apartment with a box of personal belongings, only to find Valerie and Brandon having breakfast in the dining room, chatting and laughing. Watching Valerie naturally feed Brandon a bite of food, my fingers tightened slightly. Once, I accidentally used her water glass, and she immediately hired a professional team to disinfect the entire kitchen, sternly warning me to mind my boundaries. Turns out she wasn’t a germaphobe; she just recoiled from intimacy with me. Seeing me return, Brandon deliberately hooked his finger around Valerie’s hand, his tone light but subtly pointed. “Valerie, if you gave Julian’s position to me, won’t he be upset?” Valerie didn’t even lift her head, scoffing. “I’m the CEO. Do I need his permission for my decisions?” “But he hasn’t been home for days.” “Let him throw a tantrum, ignore him.” Valerie’s voice was impatient. A victorious smile flickered in Brandon’s eyes, and he leaned casually on her shoulder, an intimate gesture. I remained silent, walking straight towards the stairs. “Julian!” Valerie finally noticed me, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face. She angrily dropped her knife and fork onto her plate, ordering, “Stop!” I didn’t stop. She took a few quick steps and grabbed my arm. “Julian, are you done with your tantrum? You decided to come back?” She reached for the box in my arms. I stepped aside to avoid her. “Don’t bother, you have other things to tend to.” Valerie’s face darkened further, about to erupt, when Brandon’s voice chimed in, just the right hint of dependence. “Valerie, I’d love some scrambled eggs. Yours are the best.” “Okay.” Valerie immediately turned and walked to the kitchen. I was about to head to my room when Brandon blocked the staircase. “Something wrong?” I looked at him. He glanced towards the kitchen, his docile expression vanishing. “You heard it all, didn’t you?” He lowered his voice, an undisguised arrogance in his tone. “Julian, you know perfectly well Valerie’s heart belongs to me. If her grandmother hadn’t forced her, do you really think you’d have been in this position?” “I heard the old lady left you a lot of stuff? Don’t actually think those things are yours.” He advanced half a step, his gaze intense. “Be smart, hand over that agreement yourself. If I say the word, she’ll make you leave anytime.” He paused, a mocking smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, I forgot. Your family is gone. You’re pretty much a stray dog with nowhere to go now. No wonder you’re clinging to Valerie so desperately.” I could endure any humiliation he threw at me. But he shouldn’t have mentioned my family. A cold fury instantly gripped my heart. I lowered my voice, each word deliberate. “Brandon, shut your mouth.” “Julian! What crazy stunt are you pulling now?!” Valerie’s angry shout came from the kitchen doorway. She had clearly heard my low growl and quickly rushed over, instinctively shielding Brandon behind her. I froze. In that instant, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brandon’s mouth twitch almost imperceptibly. Then, his foot slipped, he let out a gasp, and his body seemed to lose balance, falling backward, but his hand “accidentally” slammed hard into my arm. I was already standing at the edge of the stairs, holding a box and off-balance. The sudden force sent me sprawling backward, tumbling down the stairs. Excruciating pain shot through my entire body. “Julian!” Valerie dropped what she was holding and rushed down the stairs to help me. Brandon followed, a hint of panic and helplessness on his face. He clutched his arm, his brow furrowed, and explained to Valerie, “Valerie, I… I lost my footing and accidentally bumped him. I’m so sorry.” His voice was soft, with a deliberate note of suppressed pain, but his gaze darted quickly to me, a fleeting, almost imperceptible coldness in his eyes. Valerie checked Brandon to make sure he was okay, then frowned at me. “Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital? Brandon didn’t mean it, don’t make a big deal out of this.” I shook my head, turning my face away in pain, only to see my resignation letter and that confidential document lying scattered among my belongings.

My heart leaped into my throat. Ignoring the pain, I fumbled to gather them. “I’ll get it.” Valerie had already knelt down, picking up the resignation letter before me. My breath hitched, my eyes fixed on her hand. Fortunately, her attention was entirely on the letter. I quickly tucked the confidential document under other miscellaneous items. “You quit?” Her tone held surprise. “Yeah.” I haphazardly stuffed my things back into the box. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked, displeased. “I told you to hand over the project to Brandon, and you were so unwilling. Did you finally come to your senses?” Perhaps my face was too pale, as her tone softened slightly for a rare moment. “It’s fine that you quit. Grandma left you enough to live on. Just be Mr. Wen now, and stop competing with Brandon. He’s innocent; he doesn’t have as many tricks up his sleeve as you do.” I bit my lower lip, nodding, my heart feeling like it was being pricked by countless needles. I endured the pain, trying to stand. She reached out to help me, then continued, “Before you leave, make sure to explain all the project details to Brandon, so those difficult clients don’t give him trouble.” “He’s not as good at dealing with people as you are, and he’s not like you, knowing how to win over Grandma and get so much stuff.” I didn’t want to waste any more time on them. I calmly replied, “Okay.” Valerie seemed pleased by my obedience, a faint smile gracing her lips. “That’s better. I’ve neglected you lately, but once Brandon fully takes over your work, I’ll make it up to you.” “After Grandma’s mourning period is over, we’ll have our wedding, so she can rest in peace.” I bit my lip hard, suppressing the ache in my chest. That day would never come. Over the next few days, I quietly packed my bags, prepared a detailed project memo for Brandon, and made time to visit Valerie’s grandmother’s grave, informing her of my decision. She had loved me dearly in life; I knew she wouldn’t want to see me suffer like this. On the last day, Valerie didn’t go to the office. I was a little nervous, wondering how to avoid her. But she found the long-unused astronomical telescope. “Brandon wants to go stargazing and camping in the park. I’m going with him today.” “Okay.” I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. This suited me perfectly. “The company’s charity gala is tonight,” she added. “Get his tux ready.” I thought for a moment. By then, I would already be on my way to Nevada. Brandon walked over, intimately linking his arm through Valerie’s, his voice tinged with a well-placed hint of difficulty and grievance. “Valerie, asking Julian to prepare the tux… his project files caused me so much trouble with clients before. Maybe I should just wear something casual? I don’t want to…” He lowered his eyes, his voice trailing off. Though there were no tears, he perfectly portrayed that look of suppressed grievance, of being wronged but not stating it directly. Valerie immediately frowned and glared at me. “Julian! If you don’t want to, you can just say so! Doing these sneaky things behind my back is truly disappointing!” The moment of departure was close at hand. I didn’t want any more conflict. I calmly told Brandon, “My apologies, that was my oversight last time. It won’t happen again.” Then I said to Valerie, “I’ll prepare the tux, don’t worry.” A faint look of shame flickered across Valerie’s face. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke in a stiff voice, “Julian, tomorrow… tomorrow I’ll go with you to pick out a new puppy. We’ll definitely find one just like Lucky.” Before the car Professor Davies sent came to pick me up, I had already delivered the perfectly ironed tux. I also placed the “forever” ring and the never-effective pre-nuptial agreement on the living room table. Carrying my simple luggage downstairs, Professor Davies looked at my expressionless face and sighed softly. “Since you’ve made your decision, focus on your work there and make a real impact.” “I will.” The car started, and Valerie’s mansion grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, eventually disappearing from sight. In the early hours of the morning, Valerie returned home with a slightly tipsy Brandon. The house was dark and silent. She instinctively felt annoyed. Usually, no matter how late, I would always leave a light on in the living room. “Julian? Go make some hangover soup.” The empty house offered no response. Valerie irritably flipped on the light. The moment her gaze landed on the documents and the ring on the table, her pupils constricted, and she shrieked, “Julian! Who gave you permission to take off the ring!”

But the empty house offered no response, only silence. Valerie stood in the center of the living room, unaware that her heart was trembling. Everyone exchanged confused glances, wondering what was wrong with Valerie, why she was suddenly acting this way. But a chill radiated from Valerie, and no one dared to approach. So they subtly nudged Brandon. “Brandon, what’s wrong with Valerie?” “Don’t you want to go check on her?” “Yeah, it looks like Valerie is looking for something.” Someone even whispered, “Didn’t Valerie stop caring about Julian ages ago? Why is she looking for him now?” “Right? Julian already quit, what’s the point of looking for him?” The whispers reached Valerie’s ears, but she was too preoccupied to listen. Her mind was consumed with where Julian could be, and why he had taken off the ring. For the first time, panic began to set in. She felt as if something was slipping from her grasp, and her heartbeat echoed in her ears, almost deafening her. Valerie snatched up the documents and the ring from the table and rushed towards Julian’s room. Ever since Brandon’s return, she and Julian had been sleeping in separate rooms. Valerie had said Brandon would misunderstand, that he would be upset. But she had never considered whether Julian would be sad, or upset, even though he was her fiancé. She should have realized then that it was just Brandon’s way of marking his territory. But she had foolishly believed that everything would get better once she and Julian were married, that she would change. But what was the reality? Valerie had only pushed Julian’s boundaries, only hurt him, time and time again. And all it took was a single word from Brandon. Seeing Valerie’s panicked state, Brandon secretly gloated, wondering if this meant his chance had finally arrived. “Valerie.” “Forget about him for now. Who knows where he’s gone off to.” Brandon walked up to Valerie, attempting to gently stop her, but she flung his arm away. The force of her push was not insignificant. Brandon stumbled, hitting the wall. A dull pain shot through his shoulder blade, making him wince and suck in a sharp breath. “Ow… that hurts.” The woman who should have immediately fussed over him, showering him with concern, now seemed deaf to his pain, not even sparing him a glance. Brandon put on his familiar pained and wronged expression, his brow slightly furrowed, his voice dropping. “Valerie, you hurt me…” In the past, if he ever showed the slightest discomfort, no matter what it was, Valerie would agree to anything. Even on their engagement night, when he asked Valerie to abandon Julian and come to him, she would do it. All past events proved that Valerie’s indulgence for him surpassed everything. But now Valerie was pushing him away like this. It was something he simply couldn’t accept. “Valerie!” Brandon called out again, his voice tinged with displeasure and a hint of almost imperceptible panic. Unwilling to bear the pain, he tried to catch up but, seeing he couldn’t, stopped, clutching the sore spot, his face pale. Someone stepped forward to express concern. “Brandon, are you okay?” “Where did you hit yourself? Is it serious?” Brandon shook his head, completely baffled by Valerie’s sudden coldness. He hesitated, then turned to look at his friend – Valerie’s secretary, who naturally knew Valerie’s affairs well. He blurted out, “It’s Valerie’s pre-nuptial agreement.” “Valerie’s grandmother made her sign it, and I was the one who delivered it to Mr. Julian for his signature. I don’t know why he never sent it for notarization to become legally binding.” “Could it be that he doesn’t want that trust fund?” The secretary looked completely astonished, as if she couldn’t comprehend it. Brandon, however, was secretly overjoyed. “Does that mean Julian isn’t going to marry Valerie now?” This was Julian giving up willingly. He had been preparing for a much longer wait to get what he wanted. Now that the opportunity was right in front of him, there was no reason not to seize it. He even thought that if Julian were there, he would “thank” him profusely for stepping aside. Seeing the barely concealed delight on his face, the secretary looked puzzled. “You’re happy they’re not getting married?” “Didn’t you always want them to get married?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “320041”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #励志Inspiring

Five years ago, Foster went bankrupt. Hounded by creditors, he was almost killed. He just said: “Chloe, please, help me.” I sold my heart for a million to pay off his debts, agreeing to have an experimental bionic heart implanted. But later, I found out the bankruptcy was fake. The real reason? To trick me into donating my heart to save his childhood sweetheart, Vivian. I left without a second thought, coming to this remote town of Maple Creek to be a teacher. Now, the side effects of that bionic heart are kicking in. I’m growing increasingly emotionally detached, becoming “Ms. Chloe, the robot,” as my students call me. I never imagined Foster would show up again, with a rosy-cheeked Vivian by his side. Vivian gasped, covering her mouth in feigned surprise, “Is that… Chloe?” She sighed dramatically: “Who would believe the former wife of the wealthiest man would hide in a backwater like this? And dressed so… shabbily.” Foster looked at my faded clothes, his eyes unreadable. “You left me over such a small thing, just because I lied to you, and now you’re living like this?” “Chloe, I told you I’d take care of you forever. You shouldn’t hate me.” Meeting him again, I felt nothing: “Mr. Foster, thank you for coming to donate to the community school and help the children.”

Foster’s eyes held a frustration I couldn’t decipher. “Chloe, enough! I know you still blame me, but you have to come back with me. I’ll make it up to you.” My gaze was completely calm. “You ripped out my heart for another woman, then put this defective piece of machinery in me. Now you talk about making it up to me?” Vivian immediately stepped forward, linking her arm through Foster’s, her voice sweet but sharp. “This bionic heart is the result of my medical professor’s research. It was rigorously tested during clinical trials. There are absolutely no side effects.” Foster’s gaze on Vivian remained soft. He turned to me, sighing. “Chloe, as long as you don’t take it out on Vivian, you can be Foster’s wife again.” I gently shook my head. “I stopped caring a long time ago. All I want now is to stay in Maple Creek.” Foster froze, his eyes dark and unreadable. Vivian caught Foster’s hesitation, a flicker of displeasure in her eyes, though her face twisted into a wronged expression. She clutched Foster’s arm, her eyes watery as she looked at me. “Chloe, I know you still resent me for using your heart, don’t you? I’ve felt so guilty all these years. What if… what if I just give you your heart back?!” Foster’s face darkened. He quickly pulled Vivian behind him, his eyes filled with wary defensiveness as he looked at me: “Vivian is allergic to metal; a bionic heart would kill her. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, would you?” “What happened back then was my fault. If you want to hate anyone, hate me. Don’t target her.” I stood my ground, my fingers curling, feeling the bionic heart beat a little erratically. I turned to leave, but Vivian, still sniffling, blocked my path. “But you clearly resent me for taking your heart.” Her voice was choked with tears. “Foster, let’s go. Since Ms. Chloe doesn’t welcome us, we won’t bother her any longer. The school… there’s no need to donate anymore.” The students peering from the windows instantly panicked, quietly calling out, “Ms. Chloe, don’t let them leave.” Seeing their wide, hopeful eyes, I knew I couldn’t betray their expectations. I silently turned, pulling out a stack of yellowed, well-worn letters from a drawer. These were the revised new school applications I’d written over and over for five years, along with the signed donation agreement. I handed them to Vivian. “Ms. Vivian, the students have been waiting for this school for a very long time. I hope you won’t withdraw your donation because of personal feelings.” A glint of ruthlessness flashed in Vivian’s eyes. “Foster, she’s using the children to emotionally manipulate me! We came here to donate, not to be disrespected!” The next second, she snatched the donation agreement, poised to tear it apart. 2. Seeing this, I quickly stepped forward to stop her. “You can’t tear it.” Vivian paused, raising an eyebrow at me mockingly. “Oh? So you’re anxious now? Why don’t you beg me?” I didn’t hesitate. “Fine, I beg you.” She didn’t know how many times I had practiced that pleading tone. As Vivian’s hand lifted again, I knelt, the cold concrete digging painfully into my knees. “Please.” All that so-called dignity and shame had long vanished, along with the heart I’d sold. Foster’s pupils constricted. He reached out to stop me, pulling me up forcefully, his voice low. “Chloe! What are you doing?!” He remembered the old me, too proud to ever easily bow her head. Now, she was kneeling for a donation agreement. A look of unbearable pity crossed his face. He turned to Vivian, his voice firm. “Give me the donation agreement. I won’t withdraw the donation for this community school.” Vivian saw Foster protecting me, and jealousy flared in her eyes. She pouted. “Fine, it’s not like I said I wouldn’t donate.” As she spoke, her hand suddenly relaxed, and the paper, caught by a gentle breeze, drifted into the nearby river ditch. Without a moment’s hesitation, I turned and jumped into the icy water. Foster’s face twisted in panic. Vivian clung to Foster’s arm, her voice soft. “My hand just slipped. It’s okay, Foster. Chloe knows how to swim; she’ll be right up.” But the water was bone-chilling. My bionic heart suddenly emitted a piercing hum, instantly malfunctioning. A suffocating sensation overwhelmed me. Foster waited for a moment, and when I didn’t surface, he began to take off his coat, preparing to jump in. “It’s too dangerous!” Vivian desperately pulled him back. “You’re a CEO, how can you take such a risk?!” Foster’s movements faltered. Reason returned, but looking at the calm surface of the water, his heart clenched. Just as he hesitated, I suddenly burst out of the water, clutching the drenched agreement tightly in my hand, my voice weak. “I found it.” Vivian scoffed. “You can clearly swim, so why didn’t you come out earlier? I bet you just wanted to get Foster’s attention!” Foster’s anger instantly ignited. He said coldly: “Chloe, purposefully delaying in the water, just to make me worry?” I was drenched and had no energy to respond. Struggling out of the river ditch, they finally saw that I was only wearing a thin single layer in the dead of winter. Foster’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He was angry and heartbroken. “Chloe, you left me just to live this hard life? Wouldn’t it be better to come back with me and be Foster’s wife again?” He took off his cashmere coat, reaching out to drape it over my shoulders. But I turned away, coldly rejecting his approach. Foster’s eyes darkened. At that moment, the students rushed over, putting their not-so-warm jackets on me, their small faces filled with worry. “Ms. Chloe, are you okay? We don’t want a new school if they don’t really want to donate.” Vivian’s face instantly changed. She stepped forward, scolding sharply: “What are you little brats talking about? Why are you all gathered here? Get back to class!” The children were intimidated by her aggressive tone, timidly backing away, but still watching me, their eyes full of concern. 3 The biting cold prevented the bionic heart from restarting. Intense pain instantly filled my chest, and a suffocating sensation drowned me like a tide. I bent over, my voice breaking. “Go to my room… get my medicine.” A student turned and ran off. Foster frowned, staring at me, his tone full of suspicion. “Chloe, are you really playing sick to avoid coming back with me? Is this some kind of game?” Vivian stood by, faking a check of my pupils and pulse. “Foster, I’m a medical doctor. I can responsibly tell you, she’s fine. I know all the specs of that bionic heart; these symptoms simply don’t occur. She’s faking it.” But the excruciating pain made me curl up on the ground, my skin flushing an unnatural red. Every breath was a tearing agony. I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood. Though I had long been prepared for my bionic heart to fail, ready to leave this world at any moment. But not now… I still needed to see the new school built, to see these children find their way out of this mountain town. As my breathing grew weaker, Foster finally panicked. He was about to step forward when Vivian blocked him. “I’m a doctor, let me handle this.” She rummaged through her bag, pulled out a white pill, and put it in my mouth. After a while, the intense pain throughout my body actually gradually subsided, and my breathing became smoother. Foster sighed in relief, looking at Vivian with profound gratitude. “Thank goodness for you, Vivian.” I lay on the ground, gazing at the gray sky, feeling my bionic heart resume its beating. Principal Miller rushed over. Seeing my state, he quickly helped me up. “Ms. Chloe, please go rest in your room. Change your clothes. The donation ceremony is in three hours.” Back in my dilapidated dorm, with its peeling walls and sparse furnishings. Back then, before the side effects fully manifested, I often cried myself to sleep, my heart feeling like a piece had been brutally ripped out. But later, the bionic heart’s side effects completely took over, stripping away all my emotions. Love and hate became blurred concepts, leaving only indifference. A wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I collapsed onto the bed, quickly falling asleep. Three hours later, Foster’s knocking woke me up. I opened the door. He frowned, urging me, “The donation ceremony is about to begin. As a teacher, how can you be absent?” Before he finished speaking, his gaze fell on the dilapidated, simple room. His pupils constricted, and a complex wave of emotion flooded his face. At the community school donation ceremony, Foster and Vivian stood side by side on stage. Principal Miller couldn’t help but praise them. “You two are truly a perfect match, and so generous! A couple made in heaven!” Foster’s brow furrowed. He explained in a low voice: “We are not married.” Vivian, however, tightened her grip on his arm, her smile gentle. “Foster, we’re getting married next year. What’s the difference?” Foster didn’t respond, remaining silent. During the donation segment, Principal Miller held the microphone, excitedly saying: “Thank you, Mr. Foster and Ms. Vivian, for your generous donation of one hundred million dollars. The children of Maple Creek will forever remember your kindness.” When it was time for the flower presentation, I walked onto the stage holding a bouquet. They were the esteemed donors, the center of attention. I was just a teacher tasked with presenting flowers, like an inconspicuous usher. As I reached the front of the stage, my bionic heart suddenly throbbed violently. My legs buckled, unable to support me. I stumbled straight forward, colliding directly with Vivian.

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For ten years, I built my life around Julian Evans, a man six years my junior. He hated condoms, but promised he’d marry me the day I got pregnant. On Christmas Eve, I held a positive pregnancy test, planning to surprise him. Instead, I saw him wrapped around a younger girl outside a bar, kissing her passionately. His friends laughed and cheered them on. “Julian’s got good taste! Chloe is so young and hot!” “You should’ve seen it. When Julian brought up marriage, that desperate Stella practically launched herself at him.” “Even if Stella did get knocked up, she’d be nothing next to Chloe. Am I right?” I clutched the pregnancy test in my hand, my fingers digging in, my knuckles white. I could barely breathe. Julian chuckled dismissively. “Are you kidding? Who’d be stupid enough to marry his old practice girl?” “Julian’s only with that old lady because she’s loaded and does whatever he says. The age thing? That was never a factor.” “Can’t even imagine her in bed. It’s gotta be stale.” I stood rooted to the spot, the blood in my veins turning to ice. Old woman. Sugar mama. I’d never thought those words would come from Julian. Not from his mouth. “Big night, Julian! Aren’t you spending Christmas Eve with Chloe?” My phone screen lit up. A text message from Julian popped up. “Working late. Don’t wait up.” I stared at the words, a sick, cold dread tightening around my chest. My pale face stared back from the dark screen. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes tonight, I would never have believed that every “working late” was a lie. Julian pulled the girl onto his lap, his hand gripping the back of her head as he kissed her like he was drowning. “Stella’s pathetic,” someone cut in. “Just end it. Dragging it out is crueler.” Julian pulled back, lighting a cigarette. The rising smoke blurred his expression. “She loved me for ten years. She helped me build this from nothing. She gave me her youth.If I dump her now, she’ll break. Just give it a little more time.” A ringing filled my ears. I hurled the pregnancy test into the trash, grabbed a bottle, and charged at their booth. The glass exploded against Julian’s skull. Shards rained down as a dark line of blood snaked from his temple. I blinked. Then the tears came, hot and sudden, against my will. Julian went rigid. He shoved Chloe Miller off his lap as if shocked by a live wire. “Baby, what are you… what are you doing here?” Chloe glanced at me sideways, a smirk tugging at her lips. “It was just a joke, Stella. Don’t tell me you’re that petty?” Julian’s face darkened. “Shut up!” Ignoring the blood on his face, he gently wiped away my tears. His voice softened. “It was all just a game, don’t take it seriously.” “Don’t cry, I’ll take you home to celebrate Christmas Eve right now, okay?” Chloe, teary-eyed, tugged on his arm. “What about me?” “She ruined our Christmas Eve! Typical old hag, always sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong!” Julian turned his back, shrugging dismissively, his fingers flying across his phone in his guy’s SnapChat group. “Can’t help it. Older women are just petty and hot-headed.” “I’ll go back and handle her.” I turned and walked away. My chest ached, numb. My mother’s words suddenly echoed clearly in my mind. “Stella, was it really worth giving up your family fortune for a man who had nothing?” “If he truly loved you, he would have married you already. Why wait until now?” “Listen to your mom, come back and agree to the arranged marriage.” I wiped away my tears, pulled out my phone, and called my mother. “Mom, I was wrong. I’ll come back soon. The marriage… I’ll do whatever you say.”

Half an hour later, Julian found me on the rooftop. He always knew. Whenever we fought, I’d hide up here, letting the cold wind clear my head, forcing myself to calm down. He rushed over like a madman, pulling me away from the edge of the stairs. We stumbled, falling to the ground. His embrace was warm, but my heart was utterly cold. Without a word, a torrent of accusations rained down on me. “Stella, are you out of your mind?!” “It was just a joke! Did you really have to try and jump?” I froze. “What?” He reined in his anger, his voice softening. “Good thing you’re okay…” He sighed, pulling me to my feet and holding me tight. “My silly girl, how could I ever think you’re old? I’ve just been so busy lately… Once this period is over, we’ll get married.” “Besides, in my heart, you’ll always be my eighteen-year-old princess.” As he said this, his face held a rare tenderness. It was as if the humiliating scene at the bar had never happened. I suddenly couldn’t tell which side was the real him. But none of it mattered anymore. Suddenly, he pulled a cake from behind him. “Today marks ten years since we got together.” “The first year I started the company, I got taken for everything. Everyone laughed. They said I deserved it. But you never left. You believed in me when I had nothing.” “Without you, I would have given up.” “Money was so tight back then, but I always got you the cake.” “No matter how hard it got, I couldn’t let my little princess go without.” “Stella, you’re my life. Thank God…we made it.” His voice was low, hoarse, with a barely perceptible catch. So, he remembered. He remembered all those dark, cold winters in that damp basement, with me by his side, when he couldn’t see the light. He had everything now. And the first thing he wanted was to replace me. “Make a wish.” he said, his eyes bright with expectation. I met his gaze, my voice level. “Let’s break up.” Splat. The cake hit the floor. The two little frosting figures, once nestled side by side, split cleanly apart. Just like us. The tenderness in his face cracked, then fell away completely-shock flooding in, chased instantly by a scalding rage. “Stella, you better not regret this!” He turned and stormed downstairs, heading home. He trashed the apartment we’d decorated together as our future home. He ripped up our photos, smashed the clay figurines we’d made together… The final crash was him slamming the door shut as he stormed out. Thirty minutes later, Julian, who almost never posted on Ins, updated his story for the first time ever. “Clothes are best new, and so are women.” The photo showed him and Chloe locked in a passionate kiss beneath a sky full of fireworks. I forced out a cold laugh. Casually, I liked it and commented, “Congrats.” A friend request popped up on my phone. I recognized Chloe’s profile picture immediately. “Thanks for giving him back to me.” Julian called right away, his voice harsh. “What do you mean?” “Exactly what it sounds like. Congrats on getting back together.” “You’re the one who broke up with me. Don’t come crying back, begging me to return!” Julian’s voice returned to its usual nonchalant tone. He probably thought I was just playing games, and casually hung up. I had naively thought that even if the whole world turned against me, he wouldn’t. But the truth was, I had been so utterly wrong.

Looking around the house that once held so much promise, it suddenly felt foreign. This was never my home. That night, I tossed and turned in the messy apartment, unable to sleep. That year, Julian worked six jobs a day, just to get us out of that dark, dismal basement. Now, we could afford the most luxurious homes, but some things could never be bought back. For ten whole years, I’d been used to revolving my entire life around him, giving him everything I had. And now, it was time to let go. Tears streaming down my face, I burned all our photos. All the keepsakes holding our memories went into the trash too. I pulled out my phone and booked an abortion for the next day. But in the hospital hallway, I ran into Julian and Chloe. Unlike before, there was no hysteria this time. I pretended not to see them, not caring why they were there. Julian walked over, sneering. “Didn’t we agree it was over? What’s this? Stalking me now?” “You flatter yourself.” I didn’t bother to look up. “Stella, just say the word, beg me, and I’ll come back.” A cold laughter burst out of me at his nonchalant expression. Those words. He’d said the exact same thing five years ago, the day I caught him. The day I caught Julian cheating was my birthday, and also the day I had my first miscarriage. I had hidden the ultrasound photo inside a gift box. I’d booked a hotel room, decorated it with care, dreaming of a perfect surprise. But when I opened the door to our floor, I saw him with another woman, heading into the room next door. In that moment, I charged forward like a madwoman. I grabbed her hair, slapping her hard several times. Then I repeatedly punched Julian’s chest, breaking down in tears. “Why?! Why are you doing this to me?!” He frowned, pushing me away. “Enough! Acting like a lunatic, aren’t you ashamed?” “Can you stop being so dramatic?” “What successful man doesn’t have a few women on the side?” He wanted me to kneel and beg him. Looking at his cold face, I panicked completely. I was so insecure, terrified of losing him, and even more terrified of my child growing up without a father. In the end, I spoke in a hushed, pleading voice. “I’m pregnant…” “Just cut ties with her, and I can pretend none of this ever happened.” A sinister flicker crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by a gentle expression. He helped me back home, doting on me, preparing nutritious meals. But that night, without any warning, I miscarried. We both thought it was because I was too weak, compounded by extreme emotional distress. He held me tight, kneeling on the floor, crying as he apologized. “I’m so sorry, Stella, it’s all my fault…” “I’ve already ended things with her.” “I swear, I’ll only ever be good to you, never again.” I was so stupid to believe him. Thinking back, that woman was Chloe all along! For five years, they were never truly apart! The hospital announcement called my name, pulling me from my memories. I turned to leave, Julian’s disdainful voice trailing behind me. “Let’s see how long you can keep up that tough act!” I swallowed all my tears and lay on the operating table. I wondered if the baby would have looked like me. But now, there was nothing… When I walked out of the hospital, my face was utterly devoid of color. I opened my phone, and a car surveillance video popped up.

In the video, two intertwined figures were eagerly tearing at each other’s clothes. “If I got pregnant, would you drug me to miscarry, just like you did to Stella?” Chloe pressed a finger to Julian’s lips. “How could she ever compare to you? Old and boring. You’re my sweetheart.” “If it wasn’t for her status as a Hayes heiress, how could I have endured that old hag for so many years?” “Once we’re married in a few days, we’ll figure out how to completely ruin her health. Then everything from the Hayes family will be ours.” Julian eagerly pinned her hands behind her back, his movements growing more intense. Heavy breathing filled my ears, mingled with the sounds of their bodies colliding. Tears fell uncontrollably onto the phone screen. My throat felt constricted, unable to make a sound. So, my first miscarriage was never an accident. Julian didn’t just want my support; he wanted to take everything from me, to essentially inherit my family’s fortune and discard me! I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, trembling as I saved the video. Soon after, the police station called. “Miss Hayes, a vehicle registered to you is involved in an assault. We need you to come in for questioning.” I rushed to the police station. The front of my Bentley was utterly wrecked. It was my 30th birthday gift to myself, truly special. The police said the person hit was still in the hospital. Chloe, snuggled into Julian’s embrace, tearfully recounted her story to the officers. “I really didn’t mean to hit anyone. We were… in the car at the time. I panicked and accidentally hit the gas instead of the brake.” “Besides, this isn’t even my car.” All my rage exploded. I clenched my fists and lunged, slapping Chloe hard across the face. “Ah!” Her head snapped to the side, a bright red handprint blooming on her cheek. Julian ignored my pale face, immediately shielding Chloe behind him. His face grim, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the police station. “Stella, are you insane?! This is a police station! How dare you hit Chloe!” “What were you two doing in my car?” I stared straight at him. His eyes flickered away, but Chloe’s sobbing instantly ignited his fury. “It’s just an old car! How many years have you had it? Why are you still treating it like a treasure?” “Stella, you’re older, you should be more mature! More magnanimous!” “The girl was publicly humiliated. You’d be smart to take the fall for her, after all, it’s your car!” I raised my hand and slapped him. “Julian, you bastard!” I could barely believe those words came from his mouth. He once said, “I’ll never let you suffer even the slightest grievance.” “I’ll give you the best future, promise you the most magnificent wedding.” The vows had long rotted away. The young man who once loved me like his own life was long dead. He froze for a second, then his tone grew even colder: “I’ll get you a top lawyer. You’ll only be in jail for a few days anyway.” “Chloe isn’t like you. She’s so timid; if she went in, she wouldn’t want to live once she got out.” “Dream on!” I shrieked, my voice raw, and turned to leave. “Stop her!” “Don’t let her get away!” Julian’s bodyguards rushed over, twisted my arms behind my back, and pinned me to the cold ground. Smack! Smack! Julian’s hand came down twice, hard. The blows cracked against my cheek, and I tasted blood at the corner of my mouth. A sharp, pulling pain tore through my lower abdomen, locking my body in a violent tremble. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, glaring at him. Julian calmly wiped my blood from his hand. “I told you not to touch her!” Before I could move, he seized my wrist, forced my thumb down, and pressed my print onto the statement. “When you get out, we’ll get married.” I watched Julian walk away with Chloe, tears and blood streaking down my face. My fists clenched until my nails bit into my own palms. I threw my head back and laughed, a raw, ugly sound ripped from my throat. It turned into a cough, and I tasted blood. A whole week crawled by before Julian finally remembered I existed. He stood outside the police station, bouquet and diamond ring in hand. He waited from dawn till dusk, but I never showed. A passing officer informed him. “Don’t you know? Miss Hayes was picked up by her fiancé days ago.” Julian froze. Then his phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a news alert. His pupils shrank to pinpoints. For the very first time, raw, gut-wrenching fear flooded his eyes!

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Five years into my marriage with Clara, my company went public. And I bought her a million-dollar sports car for her birthday. But she just tossed the car keys onto the table, eyes narrowed in accusation. “A million dollars? How could you be so reckless?” She linked her arm through Leo’s, the financially struggling university student she sponsored. “Leo survives on less than five hundred a month. Imagine the good that money could have done for him.” I frowned. “I earned every cent. You’re my wife. I wanted to give you something spectacular.” “And what?” I added, my voice dropping. “Should I sponsor every struggling student in the city? Is that my job now?” Seeing my lack of remorse, Clara lost it. She demanded I hand over all my bank cards. “We’ve been married five years, and I’ve never questioned your spending. But from this moment on, you don’t spend a single dollar without my approval.” Then, I turned and handed the car keys to Chloe, Clara’s best friend. “Your birthday’s next month. Consider this an early gift.”

Chloe froze, her eyes darting nervously toward Clara. Clara stood with her arms crossed, a statue of cold disapproval. “Why are you looking at me? If he gave it to you, it’s yours. Keep it.” Chloe hesitated, trying to gently dissuade Clara with a smile. “Liam’s just joking, Clara. You know him.” A chorus of nervous agreement rose around the table. “Come on, Clara, it’s your birthday! Let’s not let anything ruin the mood.” “The cake! Liam special-ordered it from that place you love.” Clara cut through the chatter, her tone final. “No cake. Leo has a crucial interview tomorrow. I’m taking him back to prepare.” A heavy silence fell. Every pair of eyes at the table shifted to me. They all knew how much I’d done for Clara. Five years of marriage, I worked relentlessly, all to give her a better life. So why was she still treating me like this? Did she really value Leo, that struggling student, more than me? “Clara, everyone’s here for you,” Chloe tried again. “Don’t spoil the night. Liam planned this for a month. You’re the guest of honor. You can’t leave him like this.” Clara looked at me. A flicker of hesitation passed through her eyes. She was actually hesitating. A bitter laugh tore through me. Leo smiled. “Clara, you should stay. My interview tomorrow is nothing.” “”Nothing?” Clara’s expression sharpened. “It’s your first interview. It shapes your entire future. How could I not make sure it’s perfect?” Seeing my face darken, Chloe laughed lightly. “When Clara sponsors someone, she sees it through.” See it through? Watching Clara’s undisguised worry for Leo felt like a fist squeezing my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. Leo was her charity case. Her “project.” Of course she felt responsible for him. And I? I was her husband. The man she’d vowed to build a life with. Shouldn’t she feel responsible for me? She left anyway. Just as she reached the door, she turned back.. “Oh. Hand over the keys to that new sports car. Leo needs something to drive.” I laughed then. A short, hollow sound. I shoved the keys directly into Chloe’s hand. “Sorry, I already gave the car to Chloe.” I said, my voice flat. “And if memory serves, the funds you’ve funneled to Leo over the years could have bought him a fleet of his own. He doesn’t need mine.”

Clara’s face twisted. “Leo has no money. If you don’t want to give him the car, just say so. Don’t hide behind Chloe.” “Fine,” I said. “I don’t want to give it to him. And I don’t believe he’s broke.” “You’ve sent him $30,000 a month for four years. That’s 1.44 million. You claim his rent and expenses are under $500. So, Leo…where did it all go?” Leo’s face paled. “Where did it go?” Clara’s voice was ice. “Not everyone is like you, throwing money around while forgetting their family. Every dollar I gave Leo, he sent home. He used it to build a better life for his parents and his village. He understands responsibility. He thinks of others.” “You only ever think of yourself.” Only thinks of myself? Clara’s words hit me like a punch to the chest, knocking the air from my lungs. So this was her verdict after all my years, all my sacrifices. Selfish. It was ridiculous! It was ironic! I took a deep breath, looking at the new Chanel clothes Leo was wearing, the Patek Philippe watch on his wrist, a mocking curve forming on my lips. “Is that so?” “Of course, he-” Leo quickly cut her off. “Clara, it’s your birthday today. We’ve already missed out on celebrating because of me. Please, don’t fight with Liam because of me again.” Then he looked at me. “Liam, every mistake is mine. Blame me, just please don’t be angry with Clara because of me.” “What mistake have you made?” Clara pulled Leo behind her, her gaze at me chillingly indifferent. “Liam, you really should learn more from Leo.” With that, she pulled Leo and walked away. Watching her leave, I almost lost my footing. I leaned heavily on the table to keep from falling. Chloe rushed to support me, expressing her displeasure at Clara. “Clara was out of line. How could she say such things?” “I’m going to make her apologize to you.” I stopped Chloe, who was about to chase after her, and shook my head with a bitter smile. “Forget it.” At that moment, a thought came to mind. Those who don’t love you can’t see your worth, and certainly not your efforts. I looked at Chloe and the others. “The guest of honor might be gone, but we’ll still have fun. Let’s just pretend nothing happened.” Even though I said that, the atmosphere had clearly shifted. After a strained while, everyone gradually dispersed. Since I’d had quite a bit to drink, Chloe offered to drive me home. I accepted. On the way, she said, “Liam, Clara wasn’t trying to hurt you. You’ve known her for years, you know what she’s like.” I shook my head. It was precisely because I knew Clara that my heart ached even more. She wasn’t like this before, but ever since she started sponsoring Leo, she changed. Every time we had a gathering, she would bring Leo along. And every time, Leo would say something inappropriate. “A plate of fruit costs fifty dollars? So expensive. You guys are really rich.” “This wine is too expensive. It pains me to drink it. I’ll just stick to water.” “My family is poor, I can’t afford such fancy places. Don’t make fun of me.” He always played the victim, as if we were flaunting our wealth in front of him. And every time, Clara would step forward to defend him. “Don’t pick on Leo, he’s shy.” “He said he’s not drinking, why are you forcing him? If you want to drink, I’ll drink with you.” “Leo, just be yourself. Let’s see who dares to laugh at you.” Scene after scene flashed in my mind. I leaned back wearily against the seat, slowly closing my eyes. “Sigh!” Chloe’s sigh filled the car.

Chloe dropped me off at my doorstep and handed me the car keys. “Talk things out with Clara. You’ve been married for five years, it’s not worth…” I cut her off, pressing the car keys back into her hand. “I already said it was a gift for you. How can I take it back now?” “But…” Suddenly, the door opened, and Clara walked out with a smiling Leo. Chloe’s unfinished words caught in her throat. Clara saw my hand still clasped with Chloe’s, and her smile instantly vanished. She demanded coldly, “What are you two doing?” Chloe hastily pulled her hand back. “Clara, don’t misunderstand, we…” “I wasn’t asking you. I was asking him.” Clara’s gaze was fixed on me. My attention, however, was entirely drawn to Leo beside her – specifically, the tie around his neck. It was my tie! The first gift Clara ever gave me after we started dating. A sharp pain pierced my eyes. I spoke in a hoarse voice, “That tie looks familiar. I think it’s mine.” Clara replied dismissively, “It is yours, but don’t you think it suits Leo perfectly?” I lowered my head, a self-deprecating laugh escaping me. “It certainly does!” If the tie suited him, did the person wearing it also suit her? Chloe glanced at me, then anxiously turned to Clara. “Clara, how could you give Liam’s tie to Leo? Don’t you know you shouldn’t just give away ties like that?” “What’s the big deal?” Clara shrugged. “It’s just a tie. Liam doesn’t wear it often anyway. And don’t you think Leo looks really handsome in it?” “Clara!” Chloe was about to say more, but I stopped her. I smiled at Clara. “Yes, he looks very handsome. Your taste is as good as ever.” Polished. Borrowed. A carp might glitter in borrowed scales, but it would never be a dragon. The attempt was almost pathetic! “Of course it is,” Clara said, preening. “Oh, and Liam,” she added. “I’ll be helping Leo with his final prep tonight. Don’t wait up.” I went very still. My wife, not coming home, for another man? On her birthday. The air grew thick. “You’re serious,” I said, my voice low and dangerously calm. “When am I not?” With a dismissive wave, she hooked her arm through Leo’s. “No time to waste. Let’s go.” “See you later, Liam!” Leo said over his shoulder. The glance he threw me wasn’t a smile but a trophy held aloft. I held his gaze until they were gone, my own smile not wavering. Then I turned to Chloe. “Find out which company he’s interviewing with tomorrow.” Chloe studied my face. “What are you going to do?” I smiled. “Just a quality check. Let’s see what my wife’s four-year investment has actually produced.”

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After eighteen years in the slums, my sister’s billionaire father came to claim her. The day she left, Serena-the sister I’d never gotten along with-insisted on taking me with her to that better life. Everyone was jealous. They thought I’d finally escaped this place. But I refused. My parents stared at me, caught between fury and despair. “We’re handing you a future, and you’re throwing it away? You want to rot here forever?” Even our relatives saw a chance. “If she won’t go, just send my Chloe instead!” I didn’t budge. “I’m not going.” I knew what awaited there was danger. My repeated refusals drew a frost over Mr. Sterling’s expression. A man of his stature didn’t beg. He certainly didn’t beg a poor, unrelated girl. He crossed his arms. “Ungrateful,” he spat, the word hanging in the air like a verdict. Seeing his anger, Mrs. Davies trembled. She stepped forward and slapped my shoulder, her voice a low, furious hiss. “What is wrong with you? People would kill for this chance, and you say no? Are you insane? What is so good about this dump that you must stay?” I kept my head down, silent, as they yelled and hit me. This rundown place truly was awful. We scraped by, working through scorching summers and braving winter blizzards to tend the livestock. But I still wanted to stay. At least… Mr. Davies gritted his teeth and shoved me. “You have to go! This isn’t up to you. If you go, it’ll ease the burden on this family. Your mother and I won’t have to break our backs paying for your education anymore!” “Lily, stop being stubborn! This is for your own good.” Tears filled my eyes. I knew they meant well. They wanted a better life for me. But I still shook my head, my voice thick. “I can’t!” My aunt Rachel saw her chance. She pushed her daughter Chloe forward, her shrewd eyes darting between us. “Since Lily won’t go, why not Chloe? She’s every bit as good!” Before Mr. Sterling could respond, Serena frowned and cut in. “No! I only want Lily to come with me!” Anyone else might have seen a devoted sister. But I, shrank back into the corner, broke into a cold sweat.

Normally, Rachel would have yelled in Serena’s face for using that tone. But things were different now. Serena was the billionaire’s daughter, her status transformed. Rachel was too busy currying favor to protest. She edged closer, her voice sycophantic. “Serena, just take Chloe. She’s hardworking. She’ll look after you. Far better than that lazy Lily!” As she spoke, a look of pure disgust landed on me. I didn’t feel angry. If anything, a quiet relief settled in. Serena dismissed the idea without a second thought. “No, I only want Lily with me!” With that, she intimately linked her arm through mine. It felt like a cold, slimy snake coiling around me, suffocating me. “Lily, please come with me. It’s such an amazing chance to change your life. Why do you keep refusing me?” She blinked, a probing look in her eyes as she stared at me. I yanked my hand away as if she burned me, stumbling back a few steps before I regained my composure and spoke. “I’m not going. Find someone else, or just go by yourself.” She put on a wounded expression, her eyes welling up, looking incredibly hurt. “No, Mom and Dad always taught us to share. Now that I have a good life, I keep thinking of you, and you just keep refusing me.” “Did I do something wrong to upset you? I’m sorry, okay? Just come with me.” “You can try it for a while. If you don’t like it, you can come back, okay?” Rachel watched me, her eyes thick with an envy so potent I could taste it. She wished Serena had asked her. I cleared my throat, firm. “I’m not going. My life is here. I wouldn’t belong there.” Serena’s composure shattered. “What life?! Slaving at dawn, pinching cents for a flicker of light at night, wearing rags until they fall apart! What is worth clinging to here?” “Lily, look around! Every girl here is married off the moment she’s of age. Is that what you want? To be sold to some stranger twice your age?” Every accusation struck a deep, familiar chord. I didn’t want this life. It was a grinding, colorless struggle. But I feared the mansion more than the hardship. A gilded cage was still a cage. I would not go. I sighed, taking a long moment before speaking slowly. “I’ve said it many times. I just don’t want to go. No matter how good the life is, I don’t want to go. How many times do I have to tell you before you understand?” My parents shot me a look of furious disappointment, practically gnashing their teeth as they asked me. “Then why don’t you want to go? Tell us, what’s so special about this place that you’re so attached to it?” I rubbed my red eyes, hesitating repeatedly before swallowing the truth, knowing no one would ever believe me. I could only find another excuse to give them. “I want to stay here with you, okay? If you both leave, who will take care of you if you get sick?” Mr. Sterling’s expression finally softened, and he cleared his throat. “That’s not a problem. We can take your parents with us to live a good life. Consider it our way of repaying you for raising Serena all these years.”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks, leaving me dazed. My parents instantly grinned from ear to ear. “R-really? We can go too?” Mr. Sterling nodded, but a flicker of inexplicable disdain was hidden deep in his eyes. Seeing this, my parents slapped their hands together and turned to me, smiling. “Lily, now our whole family can go. You can rest easy now, right?” Serena unconsciously let out a sigh of relief, a genuine smile on her face, and chimed in. “So Lily was worried about this. You should have said something earlier! Taking care of Mom and Dad is my responsibility too; I would never abandon them.” But I couldn’t smile. I only wished I had found a different excuse, I’d fallen right into their trap. Serena started pulling my parents towards the car. I rushed forward to stop them. “No, you can’t go!” Serena’s smile froze on her face. She looked at me in surprise, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. “Lily, didn’t you say if Mom and Dad went, you would too?” “Why are you disagreeing now? What else do you want?” I ignored her, just grabbing my parents’ hands and pulling them back. “Don’t go, and I won’t go either. Can’t we just stay in the slums?” My parents stared, confused. “Lily, what is this? You just agreed to go if we went.” “We said yes. Now you’re stopping us?” Serena clasped her hands, tears glistening in her eyes as she approached me. Her voice trembled with hurt. “If you don’t want to go, fine. But why would you take this chance from Mom and Dad? Why are you being so selfish?” “I only want what’s best for all of us, and you’ve blocked me at every turn! Why?” I gritted my teeth, fury burning in my chest. If my parents went alone, I’d never have a moment’s peace. This was Serena’s new strategy. If I wouldn’t go, she’d take my parents instead. She had me completely cornered, certain that if my parents went, I would follow. Her act of being so devoted to my well-being made me seem ungrateful in the eyes of the other relatives. They stood by, arms crossed, loudly mocking me. “Lily was just never meant for a good life. I say she should just find a man and get married.” “I know, right? If something like this happened to me, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. She’s such an idiot.” “Serena, if she won’t go, fine, just take us! We all want a good life!” Serena ignored them, her eyes meeting mine, with a hint of scrutiny. I quickly masked the fear in my eyes, not wanting her to notice anything amiss. Mr. Davies yanked his hand from mine, gasping for breath as he angrily questioned me. “Lily, what are you doing?! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” Mrs. Davies’ face was ashen. “Lily, my patience is wearing thin. You won’t go, and you won’t let us go. Are you crazy?!” I was furious and desperate. The truth sat bitter and heavy on my tongue, but I couldn’t force it out. All I could do was cry and repeat myself, a broken record of desperation. “I don’t want to go! And you can’t go, either!” “If we go… if we go there, it will-” “It’ll what?” Serena cut in, her smile sharp and probing. I flinched. The words shriveled in my throat. I turned my face away, sealing my lips in a tight, final line. My mother raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face, then made her final decision. “Alright, I’ve decided. Our whole family is going. Lily, stop messing around!” The tension drained from Serena’s face, and a relaxed smile appeared.

But I couldn’t just stand by and watch my parents go to the billionaire’s house. Without a word, I rushed to the balcony, swung one leg over the railing, and threatened to kill myself. “None of you are allowed to go! If you go, I’ll jump from here!” My parents were startled by my actions. But the person even more agitated than my parents was Mr. Sterling. He quickly raised a hand to stop me. “Lily, don’t be impulsive, don’t be impulsive! Let’s talk this through!” I didn’t look at him, only stared at my parents, demanding they change their minds. “Mom, Dad, promise me we won’t go, okay? If Serena wants to go, let her go by herself, okay?” My parents looked hesitant, even starting to wonder. “Is this kid possessed?” A profound sense of helplessness welled up in my heart. My voice rose to a shout. “If you don’t promise me, I’ll jump from here right now!” With that, I leaned further out, my whole body hanging precariously from the balcony. One gust of wind and I’d be gone. My parents were still deliberating, truly unable to understand why I would refuse a good life and insist on staying in this poor place. After a long time, my tears nearly dried, my parents finally nodded. “Fine, if she doesn’t want to go, then we won’t. We’re not meant for that kind of life.” My strength gave out, and I crumpled to the floor. Mr. Sterling looked at me with a complex expression for a long time before speaking. “Since she’s unwilling to go, I won’t force it. Serena, let’s go home.” Serena was the first to object. She shrieked, her voice hoarse. “No! Lily has to come with me!” Her face twisted as she rushed over to me, frantically shaking my shoulders. “Lily, why won’t you go? You don’t want a good life, are you crazy?!” Her nails dug deep into my shoulder, and I gasped from the pain. Mr. Sterling spoke up, displeased, his voice carrying a hint of authority. “Serena, that’s enough!” His words acted like a tranquilizer. She froze. A fine tremor ran through her body. She released me, her grip going slack. Her eyes were red-rimmed, still burning with defiance. “Why? Are you insane? You’re throwing away a fortune, a future.” To an outsider, it might have looked like genuine concern. My parents stepped forward, patting Serena’s shoulder soothingly, forcing a smile. “Serena, if Lily doesn’t want to go, fine. Just remember to take care of yourself when we’re not around.” Serena shoved them away, her voice rising to a shout. “Don’t tell me what to do! I offered you a way out and you threw it in my face! You’ve brought this on yourselves!” My parents opened their mouths, then closed them, the words dying into a helpless sigh. Serena stood abruptly, shot me a venomous glare, and let her new father lead her away. A wave of relief finally broke across my face. But my parents couldn’t smile. They looked at me with disappointment, before turning back to their work. The day’s turmoil left me drained. I collapsed into bed, fell into a deep sleep, only to wake up staring at the roof of a car. My eyes snapped open. My parents’ voices cut through clearly. “Thank goodness Serena had the foresight to drug her. Once Once Lily wakes up in that mansion, she’ll never want to leave. Just stubborn, that girl!”

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Five months pregnant, when I went to book my prenatal care, I discovered my CEO husband, Liam, had booked out the entire luxurious maternity retreat. Thrilled, I snapped a picture to post on Instagram. But as I raised my phone, I saw Liam tenderly leaning into Stella, his widowed sister-in-law’s swollen belly, his voice impossibly gentle. “Stella, thank you for blessing me with another child. My life is finally complete.” My heart seized, I couldn’t breathe. Back home, I hired a private detective to dig into Liam’s past. After his brother’s death, he secretly became the guardian of Stella’s child, giving her a home, all behind my back. I sat numbly all night, the pain suffocating, as I slowly slipped off my wedding ring. I couldn’t stay with a man who was unfaithful. Footsteps approached. I quickly wiped away the tears stinging my eyes. The rich scent of roses filled the air, but it couldn’t mask the unfamiliar perfume clinging to Liam. Liam wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. “My dearest Chloe, here are the passionate red roses you adore.” I took the flowers, forcing a brittle smile. “Is this the surprise you wanted to give me? I thought it was that necklace I loved from the auction.” Liam’s gaze darted away, trying to hide his guilt. “I heard that necklace was already reserved. It was impossible to snatch it away.” I sneered, a bitter laugh bubbling up as I watched Liam lie. Last week, news spread about a stunning sapphire necklace at the auction, and Liam knew how much I loved blue. He had vowed to buy it for me. But just moments ago, I’d seen him with my own eyes, fastening that very necklace around Stella’s neck. The image of Liam and Stella kissing so passionately, unable to tear themselves apart, churned my stomach. I stumbled to the trash can, violently throwing up. Liam, panicked, immediately called the family doctor. But the next second, his phone vibrated wildly. A fragile female voice echoed from the speaker. “Liam, I accidentally slipped in the bathroom…” The man who was always so calm and composed suddenly grabbed the doctor and rushed out of the apartment. I watched his frantic retreat, tears finally streaming down my face. Before Liam’s brother died unexpectedly, he had asked Liam to take good care of his wife and child. Back then, Liam’s entire focus had been on his widowed sister-in-law. When Stella grieved, drinking herself into oblivion all night, he abandoned me even as I suffered from a raging fever. When Stella collapsed from emotional distress, refusing to eat, he left me, unconscious and miscarrying in the rainy night. … I had always assumed Liam was just trying to protect their broken family, swallowing my complaints, burying my resentment deep down. But I never imagined that his sense of responsibility would morph into love for his sister-in-law. He had betrayed me, becoming another woman’s husband, another child’s father. With all my strength, I ripped off the wedding ring from my ring finger and hurled it into the trash can. The glass window reflected a woman’s pallid face, her hair disheveled, looking like a complete lunatic. My swollen pregnant finger was raw and bleeding where the ring had chafed it. Once I calmed down, I dialed the pinned contact, my voice hoarse. “Mom, I want to come home.”

Liam didn’t come home all night. I released the roses in my arms, tossing them into the trash without a second thought. A notification popped up, reminding me it was time for my prenatal check-up today. I gently stroked my growing belly. Through my skin, I felt a faint kick. Even if Liam had cheated, the baby was innocent. It was my flesh and blood, my precious treasure. I grabbed my previous check-up results and asked the housekeeper to prepare the car for the hospital. The corridor was bustling with people, every couple’s face radiating joyful smiles. I sat on a cold bench, waiting, when a familiar voice unexpectedly pierced my ears. I looked up, and my heart plummeted into an ice-cold abyss. Liam was carefully supporting Stella, the worry in his eyes undisguised. He carried her pink handbag and an assortment of breakfast items. I suddenly remembered when I first found out I was pregnant; my morning sickness had been terrible. Liam, out of concern, dropped everything to learn how to cook nutritious meals for pregnant women. I had been angry, scolding him for not knowing what was important. Liam had clawed his way up from a corporate greenhorn to CEO, pouring countless hours and effort into his career. He’d pulled all-nighters on projects, flattered clients and drank until he collapsed, and nearly suffered a heart attack from overwork… I couldn’t bear to see the man I loved ruin himself, covered in scars. I had humbly called my mom for help, begging her to support Liam. And to protect Liam’s pride, I had never mentioned it to him. I just couldn’t understand how the Liam who once stayed up all night, eyes red from exhaustion, promising me a happy future, could have cheated. The hospital loudspeaker suddenly crackled, pulling me from my thoughts. “Chloe Miller, please proceed to consultation room 103.” Not far away, Liam finally saw me. His gaze dropped, filled with guilt, then he quickly strode towards me. A warmth spread across my wrist as Liam leaned down, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from my forehead. “Why didn’t you call me to come with you?” I looked past him at Stella, suppressing the bitterness in my heart, and gave a light laugh. “I was afraid you wouldn’t have time.” Liam frowned, sighing helplessly as he explained. “After my brother passed, Stella was pregnant and had no one else to rely on.” “Don’t overthink it, Chloe. I’m just fulfilling my brother’s responsibilities.” Seeing us at a stalemate, Stella clutched her pregnant belly and rushed over, her face anxious. She shielded Liam, her eyes red, and grasped my hand. “Chloe, please don’t be angry with Liam.” “It’s all my fault for bothering him. I promise I’ll never appear before him again.” I said nothing, yet Stella was already crying, tears cascading down her face. Liam pulled her into his embrace, his eyes as dark and stormy as a brewing tempest. “Chloe, can’t you show some empathy?” “She’s my sister-in-law, she’s family!” And what about his wife? Weren’t spouses supposed to be the closest people to each other? The loudspeaker sounded again, urging me to go for my check-up. I bit the inside of my cheek, and as I turned, I quickly wiped away my tears. Of course, I didn’t miss the triumphant, challenging glint in Stella’s eyes. She deliberately exposed the ambiguous red marks on her collarbone, then wept piteously in Liam’s arms. Last night, the private detective’s photos showed Liam tenderly removing Stella’s nightgown, the two of them spending a passionate night together. And I? I had foolishly waited all night for a man who would never come home. After the check-up, Liam, to my surprise, was waiting at the door. He gripped my hand, like a devoted husband to his beloved wife. “How was it?” I subtly pulled my hand away. “The doctor said the baby’s heartbeat is a little faint and advised me to try and stay cheerful.” Liam nodded, then hesitated, as if he wanted to say more. Stella stood not far away, coughing softly. So Liam ruffled my hair. “I’ll take Stella home first, then I’ll come back to pick you up.” The tiny flicker of hope in my heart was thoroughly extinguished by a bucket of cold water. I forced out a weak smile. “Okay.” But after waiting three hours in the cold wind outside the hospital, Liam never appeared. I pulled out the voluntary waiver of assets in case of divorce that Liam had handwritten for me years ago and sent it to my lawyer.

Back home, I started packing my luggage to leave. The door slammed open with a kick. Liam stormed in, grabbing my wrist, his voice sharp with accusation. “If you have a problem, you should take it out on me!” I frowned in confusion, then Liam roughly shoved me against the wall. A torrent of curses rained down on me. “Thank God I managed to swerve away from that truck, or Stella and the baby would have been crushed!” “Chloe, you’re a cold-blooded killer.” My bracelet snapped without warning, clattering to the floor at my feet. It was the love knot bracelet Liam had braided for me himself. I winced in pain, looking directly into Liam’s eyes. “What on earth are you talking about?” A muffled shuffling sound came from the hallway. Stella, pale-faced, leaned against the doorframe, her wrist wrapped in a thick bandage. She bit her lower lip, her shoulders trembling uncontrollably. “Chloe, I know you don’t like me, but my baby is Liam’s own nephew.” “You went too far today.” An unknown fury surged within me, and I violently broke free from Liam’s grip. “I didn’t do anything! And I would never stoop to such a base method to harm you!” I angrily advanced on Stella, who retreated, tears welling up. A sharp slap echoed, and a searing pain spread across my cheek. Liam watched me with cold eyes, his large frame completely shielding Stella. I stood frozen. His gaze held anger, contempt, hatred – everything but the slightest trace of the trust he once had in me. He had promised me he would unconditionally trust me, unconditionally stand by me, no matter what. A sharp pain jolted my lower abdomen, and I leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down to the floor. But Liam didn’t even spare me a glance, disdainfully shifting his foot away. As if he feared I would contaminate him. I bit down hard, refusing to show any vulnerability. The room was filled with Stella’s fragile sobs and Liam’s soft comforts. I suddenly remembered two years ago, when our whole family went on a cruise. Stella and I accidentally fell overboard simultaneously. She was an excellent swimmer, while I was a complete non-swimmer. But Liam’s first instinct was to save Stella. Only after Stella was taken to the hospital and confirmed to be unharmed did he remember me, sinking into the depths of the ocean. I lost control, smashing the glass cup beside me. Shards of glass flew everywhere, cutting Liam’s hand. He winced in pain, but his first concern was whether Stella had been hurt. Upon seeing a tiny scratch on Stella’s finger, he anxiously scooped her into his arms, then coldly ordered the housekeeper. “Don’t let anyone send food to Chloe today. And from now on, without my permission, she is not allowed to leave and harm anyone!” The door slammed shut, the distinct click of the lock piercing my eardrums. My stomach began to ache belatedly, a sharp, violent pain. I nervously clutched my abdomen, a warm wetness spreading between my legs. My beige dress was stained with a large patch of crimson, my mind a complete blank. Amidst the intense contractions, I frantically crawled to the door, pounding on it like a madwoman. My voice trembled with fear. “Liam, I’m bleeding…” “Please, open the door! Take me to the hospital…” The footsteps outside the door paused, then grew clearer, closer. A sliver of hope ignited in my heart, and I shifted my body to make room for the door to open. The doorknob turned slightly, then I heard Liam’s cold, mocking voice. “Chloe, I’m not falling for your childish tricks anymore.” My heart instantly stopped beating, and I pounded on the bedroom door like a madwoman. “Liam, come back! I’m not lying!” “My stomach really hurts… The baby is in danger…” But only dead silence answered me. My phone wasn’t nearby, what could I do? Who could save my baby? Blood pooled on the floor, terrifying, and my stomach felt like it was being torn apart by a thousand knives. Just before losing consciousness, I finally remembered the SOS bracelet my mom had given me.

With all my remaining strength, I crawled to the bedside table, found the bracelet, and pressed the emergency button. Consciousness completely faded, and I collapsed onto the cold floor. When I next regained awareness, my nose was filled with the pungent smell of disinfectant. I immediately touched my abdomen, but it was flat. Realizing I had lost my most precious treasure, I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. The doctor stood nearby, sighing regretfully. “If she had been brought in earlier, perhaps the baby could have been saved.” This was the second time. This was the second time this had happened. Liam, you are the real murderer. A stranger by my bedside handed me a plane ticket, his voice respectful. “Miss, your mother has arranged everything for you.” “Please be at the airport in three hours to depart for home.” My tears soaked into the pillow, and my phone chimed. It was an unknown message. The photo showed Liam, his left hand holding a little boy who bore a striking resemblance to him, and his right arm around a pregnant Stella. If he weren’t my husband, the scene would have been so warm and touching. I screamed helplessly, tears streaming down my face. The Liam who had once knelt and begged me to marry him, the Liam who had always prioritized me, was truly dead. As the plane was about to take off, I dragged my weak body to complete the discharge process. Standing at the entrance of my home, I heard a woman’s cheerful laughter from inside. I froze, my legs heavy as if filled with lead. Pushing open the door, I saw Liam busy in the kitchen, wearing an apron. Stella and her son were cozily watching TV on the sofa, smiling. They looked like a happy couple, and I was the intruder, the outsider in this home. Liam didn’t notice my flat abdomen, or my pale face. He simply glanced at me indifferently. Stella smirked triumphantly, then feigned surprise, like a startled deer. Liam, afraid I would bully his darling, rushed over with a ladle in hand. “You hurt Stella, so I brought her home to take care of her, as an atonement for your sins.” I numbly nodded, all strength seemingly drained from my body. Seeing my docile expression, Liam patted my head, satisfied. “I stewed your favorite chicken soup. Go wash your hands quickly.” “Apologize properly to Stella, and we can put this whole incident behind us.” I said nothing, quietly returning to my room to collect my important documents. Liam was attentively serving soup to Stella and her son, not sparing me a single glance. I quietly walked out the door, and not a single soul noticed. Childish laughter echoed from inside the house, and I could no longer control my grief, bursting into helpless tears. The bodyguard stood not far away, silently waiting for me to finish crying, then escorted me all the way to the airport. As the plane took off, I broke my SIM card, and threw away the rings, necklaces, and everything Liam had given me. From then on, Liam and I would be strangers.

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After remarrying Jesiah Spencer, I became the perfect, compliant wife. Jesiah once said, “If you’d been this agreeable from the start, maybe we never would’ve divorced.” Even at a college reunion, his drunk friends would mock me, “You really are Jesiah’s slave, aren’t you? Even after divorcing, you just had to get back with him. You totally messed up his chance to marry Serena.” The atmosphere instantly grew thick with awkwardness. Jesiah probably expected me to blow up like I used to. But I just smiled, saying nothing. They all thought I remarried Jesiah because I loved him too much. The truth? I’d been so angry during our last divorce that I walked away with absolutely nothing, suffering a devastating financial loss. This time, after we remarried, I immediately drafted a new prenuptial agreement. When we divorced again, I wouldn’t be the one left empty-handed. After the party, Jesiah said to me in the car, “I feel like your attitude towards me has been off ever since we remarried…” “You’re being overly sensitive,” I calmly replied. “Before we got back together, I promised you repeatedly that I wouldn’t let Serena interfere in our lives again, and I’d keep my distance from her. Even at the reunion tonight, she and I kept to ourselves. What more do you want from me?” He wasn’t known for his patience, so hearing him actually string together that many words was practically unheard of. “I’ve told you countless times, if Serena’s father hadn’t helped me back then, I never would’ve made it out of that poor little town.” I locked my phone screen and stared at him, calmly meeting his impatience. “You don’t need to explain, I know.” I’d heard the same story a million times. That’s why I’d endured it when, after graduation, Jesiah went to great lengths to fast-track Serena’s recruitment into the hospital, keeping her by his side. That’s why I’d endured her frequent appearances in our lives, even on our wedding anniversaries, there was always a third person tagging along. That’s why I’d endured their endless sharing of daily details, while my own attempts at conversation were always met with cold, clipped words. But when I came home early from a business trip and found them tangled up, naked, that was it. I couldn’t endure it anymore. I demanded a divorce, willing to walk away with nothing just to cut ties with him. But then, not long after, my mother was diagnosed with an aggressive tumor and needed surgery. And it turned out, Jesiah was the only surgeon who could perform it. So, I went and begged him. What truly chilled me to the bone wasn’t just my emotional backlash, but his utterly callous attitude. “Chloe, you know I’ve been incredibly busy since my promotion.” “But if the patient were my own family, I’d definitely make time to operate myself.” “So… do you finally understand what you did wrong?” I stared at him, stunned, and under his smug, self-satisfied expression, I nodded. We remarried. But our relationship was irrevocably broken. Even sleeping in the same bed, we were strangers. Just like today. “Jesiah! I knew you hadn’t left yet! I told you, you wouldn’t abandon Serena!” Serena’s college friend, Sarah, waved from a distance. She helped a half-drunk Serena walk over to us. “Serena’s so beautiful, I just couldn’t let her go home alone. Didn’t you always take her home before?” She glanced at me, subtly, her tone laced with mockery. “Chloe, you’re pretty ‘safe-looking,’ you’ll be fine going home by yourself, right?” Jesiah looked at Serena, leaning against her friend, then at me. He looked conflicted. It stung, just as it always did, no matter how many times I witnessed his hesitation. But unlike before, when I would shout and scream, this time I simply raised my phone, expressionless. “My ride’s here. I’m leaving.” Just then, my Uber arrived. Jesiah helped Serena into the back seat, rolled down the window, and looked up at me. “You go home first and wait for me.” “Tomorrow is your mother’s final surgery. We need to discuss the details tonight.” As expected, Jesiah didn’t come home that night. But thankfully, I wasn’t like I used to be. Foolishly waiting up for him.

If a breakup is a massive withdrawal, then I’d been tortured by that feeling twice. The first time, I broke down, deleting his number and throwing away everything related to him. But after years together, he was ingrained in every corner of my life. The books he’d given me still held his love letters, each word pouring out his deepest feelings. The scarf he’d knitted for a whole month, pricking his fingers raw, he’d still smiled foolishly, asking me to try it on. He knew I loved stargazing, so he’d used two months’ worth of his part-time earnings to buy a telescope and confessed his love to me under a once-in-a-lifetime meteor shower. “Chloe, I grew up without parents, no one to look out for me. I just want to be yours, completely, to let you guide me.” But then, later, he said, “In this world, I see Serena as my only family. Chloe, can’t you just stop being so possessive?” Family? What kind of family sleeps naked in the same bed? Honestly, from the very beginning, I’d heard rumors about him and Serena at school. They said Jesiah was the top student, and the school made an exception to admit Serena because of him. They were from the same small town, their bond so close from childhood, I couldn’t help but be suspicious. But he’d told me, “Serena’s father practically adopted me back then, otherwise I would have died. I owe him everything.” “But Chloe, don’t worry, in my heart, she’s only ever been like a sister to me.” I believed him, and I paid for it with five years of my life. To be honest, that first time I saw him again after our divorce, my heart still pounded in my chest for him. His phone lock screen was still our photo together, as if nothing had changed. Remarrying him, I told myself, was my second attempt at withdrawal. I couldn’t forgive him and pretend nothing happened. Nor could I just walk away cleanly right then. So, I decided to let the pain slowly chip away at me, like a dull blade. Even if it hurt more, even if it took longer. But thankfully, after six months, I was finally numb. Once my mother’s last surgery was done, I could divorce him again, free from any burdens. I’d already drafted the divorce papers: 70% for me, 30% for him. After all, he was the one who messed up. He had to pay a price, didn’t he? However, the next day, Jesiah disappeared. The substitute surgeon, thrust onto the operating table, was sweating profusely. “We can’t reach Dr. Spencer! You’re his wife, don’t you know where he is?” “I have less than a ten percent chance of success with this surgery. You… you need to prepare yourself!” Jesiah’s phone went straight to voicemail. I called him over a hundred times, until my fingers were numb, mechanically dialing the same number again and again. Until, after what felt like an eternity, someone finally answered. “Jesiah, where in the world are—” “Oh, it’s Chloe. Jesiah went back to his hometown with me for an emergency. He’s in the shower right now.” *Buzz.* My mind went completely blank. My phone slipped from my hand and smashed to the floor, its screen shattering into a spiderweb. Was it my imagination, or did I hear Jesiah’s voice through the receiver? “Who’s calling? Is it Chloe?” “No, just a spam call…” For the next three hours. I knelt outside the operating room, begging for my mother’s life, pleading with whatever gods would listen not to take her. But when the lights of the operating room finally dimmed, all I received was a death certificate. 2. I handled my mother’s funeral all by myself. For seven days, I drifted in a daze. It wasn’t until the eighth day that Jesiah finally returned. “I’m sorry, I…” Before he could finish, I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. “Jesiah Spencer, you bastard!” “You killed my mother!” I put every ounce of my fury into that slap. Jesiah’s head snapped to the side. To my surprise, he didn’t get angry. He just calmly explained, “Your mother’s condition wasn’t good. Even if the surgery succeeded, she would have been tormented by chemotherapy treatments over and over again.” “Serena’s father suddenly fell gravely ill. If I didn’t go back with her, she might not have seen her father for the last time.” I was trembling with rage, unable to form a coherent sentence. But his cruelty didn’t stop there. “You never had a father growing up, so it’s only natural you wouldn’t understand this kind of bond.” I stared at him in disbelief. I couldn’t reconcile the man in front of me with the loving partner from my memories. He knew. He knew my father died in his mistress’s bed when I was eight, and that it was a pain that had haunted me my entire life. Back then, he’d held me close, comforting me, vowing to love me forever. In that moment, I completely lost it. I grabbed everything within reach and hurled it at him, screaming for him to die. But he just watched me rage, his eyes cold, and finally said, “Chloe, I actually prefer you like this.” “Stop pretending from now on. It’s pointless.” After he left, I collapsed onto the cluttered floor, sobbing uncontrollably. I started to hate him. I hated how he’d used the very weapon I’d given him to stab me through the heart, without so much as a flinch. My phone suddenly rang. It was Serena. *Hey there, sis. Heard about your mom. My condolences~* *It’s all Jesiah’s fault. I told him my dad just had a slight cold, but he just *had* to abandon you and your mom to come home with me.* *But… who told you to keep pestering him to remarry you? You only have yourself to blame, right?* Those messages stripped me of all reason. Clutching my phone, I rushed to the hospital and reported Jesiah Spencer and Serena’s improper relationship to the administration. I reported Jesiah for gross medical negligence, disappearing before surgery due to personal reasons, which led to my mother’s death. But the hospital didn’t immediately launch an investigation. They merely “invited” me into an office. They said it was a private matter, and they couldn’t intervene. Their words were a warning: Jesiah was a brilliant surgeon they’d invested heavily in. They advised me to let it go. When Jesiah arrived, I was in the middle of arguing passionately with Dean Thompson. “How can it have nothing to do with him? If it weren’t for him, my mother wouldn’t have died!” But Jesiah simply said, “I apologize, my wife has been through a lot lately, and her mental state might be a bit unstable.” The glances that had held a touch of sympathy instantly turned complex. They instinctively took a few steps back, creating a distance between us. Soon, only Jesiah and I remained in the cramped office. “Chloe, apologize.” I had cried so much my eyes were swollen, blurring his face, but I could feel his condescending presence. “You shouldn’t have caused a scene at the hospital. What if it gets out and damages Serena’s reputation?” “So, I need you to apologize to her.” I stopped wasting my breath on him and turned to open the door. I was going to contact the media, reporters, and expose their illicit affair. But then I heard him sigh softly behind me. “Then don’t blame me.” As the youngest Chief Resident in the hospital, a brilliant young mind already famous in the medical world, he’d taken seven years to climb to this position. But it would only take him seven days to have me committed to a psychiatric hospital. I lost count of how many times I insisted I wasn’t sick, only to be met with larger doses of sedatives and tighter restraints. I began to calm down, stopped resisting, and waited for my chance. Finally, I seized it. I escaped.

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My wife was a master of the silent treatment. A flicker of unhappiness, a slammed door, and she’d be gone for ten days, sometimes half a month. I’d grown used to it, used to adjusting my emotions, smiling, and taking care of our son. Until the day I was helping Leo with his homework and saw his wish. “I wish Dad would disappear.” “He’s so scary when he loses it with Mom.” From that moment on, I finally woke up. Sunday nights were always the hardest to stomach. My procrastinating son was bawling his eyes out, trying to finish tomorrow’s homework, while Scarlett, the queen of the silent treatment, had her headphones on, lost in her game, probably having the time of her life. No one wanted anything to do with me. Leo, after being scolded by me, glared at me with resentment. Scarlett, annoyed, pretended I didn’t exist. I stood by the dining table, clearing the dinner mess, silently convincing myself it was all my own doing. But my heart ached unbearably. Late that night, Scarlett retreated to the study, Leo finally fell asleep with tears still clinging to his eyelashes, and I stood in the bathroom, staring at my exhausted reflection. This was the third month Scarlett and I had been locked in this silent battle. Three full months, long enough for me to almost forget what started it. Under the same roof, she hadn’t said a word to me, and I stubbornly held my ground, silently declaring war right back. She was in the wrong; I wouldn’t apologize, but I couldn’t sleep. I walked into Leo’s bedroom to pack his school bag. I looked down, and then I saw the new notebook I’d bought him lying on his desk. In the ‘Wishes & Rewards’ section, written in his childish handwriting: “I wish Dad would disappear.” I rubbed my eyes, my first thought being that I’d misread it. Clutching the notebook, I walked into the living room. I read the line again. “I wish Dad would disappear.” “He’s so scary when he loses it with Mom, he drove Mom away.” I collapsed onto the couch, feeling a hollow ache I’d never known before, a pain so deep it turned into numbness. The study light flickered on, and Scarlett emerged, a radiant smile on her face – that spring-breeze glow she usually reserved for others. The moment her eyes landed on me, it vanished, replaced by her usual glacial stare. She said nothing, picked up her car keys from the coffee table. As she walked past me, I caught the faint scent of her perfume. Gardenia. I’d picked it out for her in college when we were dating. Back then, she was just a girl who wore black-framed glasses and T-shirts with jeans, never bothering with makeup. I slowly helped her discover a new style, and chose my favorite perfume for her. “Wearing perfume to meet people always leaves a good impression.” She’d said she’d cherish everything I chose for her. And she’d been using it ever since. The familiar scent slowly prised open my heart, and sweet memories of our past flooded my mind. I thought of our ridiculous war, of my deeply loved son. The pain Leo brought me made me desperately search for a point of leverage. I was about to give in to Scarlett again. I couldn’t stop myself from standing up, grabbing her arm tightly. “Scarlett, let’s talk, properly.” She shook off my hand. I saw her phone screen lit up, showing an active call. It was late. Who was she talking to this late, and why had she specifically put on perfume to meet them? “Scarlett, are you heading out? I’m waiting downstairs. Seriously craving some BBQ.” A young man’s voice came through the phone. His clear, youthful voice instantly reminded me of what started this silent treatment. I quickly turned to walk away, but Scarlett grabbed me back. A slight smirk played on her lips, her eyebrow arching. “Beg me, and I’ll stay with you and Leo.” She always loved seeing me broken, begging for her mercy, especially now, with another young man vying for her attention. Her staying would be a mere condescending charity.

A bitter laugh escaped me. “Beg you? Was Leo born solely from me? Aren’t you his mother?” “Is caring for our child my responsibility alone? Don’t you have any?” “Do you even realize how messed up our son’s mind is right now?” Scarlett frowned again, pressing her lips together. She looked at me like I was insane, snatched her coat, and slammed the door shut behind her. Leo’s notebook, with his wish for me to disappear, was still on the couch. Scarlett had left the study light on. It was always like this. Whenever there was a problem to solve, she’d either lightly fan the flames, watching me lose my mind, or she’d simply ignore everything, turn around, and slam the door. The slamming door woke Leo. He padded out of his room barefoot, standing at the doorway, staring in the direction his mom had left. He walked over to me, picking up the notebook I’d tossed on the couch. He didn’t seem worried that I’d seen what was inside, only frowned and accused me. “Dad, why did you make Mom angry again?” I ignored him. Downstairs, a car engine rumbled to life. After a few powerful revs, a black car peeled out, disappearing into the night. Tomorrow, I’d have to bike Leo to school again. I looked at the notebook clutched in Leo’s hand. And those eyes, so much like his mother’s. For the first time, I profoundly realized how trapped I’d been by her all this time. I dragged myself into the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed. I closed my eyes, and “Dad disappear” appeared before me in bold letters. Honestly, I’d never once lost my temper or yelled at Leo. To avoid conflict, I’d even gone to great lengths, sacrificing my dignity to appease Scarlett. I’d begged Scarlett to come home, begged her to hug our son. I couldn’t sleep. My phone screen lit up on the nightstand. A SnapChat message from my neighbor, Mark Sullivan. “Heard your wife slammed the door and left again. You two fighting? You okay?” Mark and I had met when I was selling my handmade items on eBay. Back then, Scarlett was giving me the silent treatment, cutting off my allowance to force me to give in. I had no income and had to pick up odd jobs to make ends meet. As it turned out, we were neighbors. He even bought my stuff, supported my small business, and checked in on me. I heard Leo close his bedroom door. I replied: “Thanks, Mark, I’m fine.” I woke up the next morning feeling utterly drained. My eyes were swollen almost shut. Scarlett was back, the lingering gardenia scent now completely drowned out by the heavy smell of alcohol. She noticed me, her gaze lingering on my face for only a second before darting away. This wasn’t the silent treatment; she frowned, walked into the bathroom, making thinly veiled jabs. “Seriously, who are you trying to scare looking like that?” I knew she was waiting for me to snap back, to watch me lose it, and then she’d leave again, indifferent. But I was tired. I said nothing. She looked at me, a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place in her eyes. Then, with an overly affectionate smile, she went into Leo’s bedroom. “Come on, sweetheart, Mom’s taking you to school today.” Two completely different attitudes, as if she were two different people. They walked out hand-in-hand, chatting intimately. No one cared about me. It felt like two sharp blades piercing my heart.

When I opened the door to take out the trash, I ran into Mark. He saw me and practically pulled me inside his apartment. He handed me an ice pack wrapped in a towel, his eyes filled with concern, his brow furrowed. “You doing okay?” His concern reminded me of Scarlett when we first got married. Back then, Scarlett and I were broke. In a city like NYC, where every square foot cost a fortune, all we could afford was a tiny, rundown basement apartment. We squeezed onto a small bed, and the bathroom and kitchen were shared, quite a distance from our room. One day, I’d just finished cooking and was carrying the dishes to our room when I collided with someone rushing past. I instinctively angled the hot dish toward myself, and a large patch of skin on the back of my hand was badly scalded. When Scarlett came home from work, I was afraid she’d worry, so I wore gloves. But she still noticed. I quickly pulled my hand back, smiling, saying it didn’t hurt at all. Scarlett looked at my hand, fumbling to apply ointment. Back then, her eyes were red too, tears flowing endlessly. She cried, rubbing her eyes, “Daniel Miller, I promise I’ll give you the best life in the world someday!” That night, she held me, talking softly all through the night. “Daniel, I won’t let you get hurt again.” Even now, I believe she truly loved me then. But when did she change? Now, she and I were like two ticking time bombs, strapped together. The smallest friction, and we could explode at any moment. Of course, Scarlett was the silent type of bomb, a dud that didn’t explode with a bang but rather released a terrifying, suffocating smoke that seeped into every corner of my life. It made me gasp for air, made me want to scream until my throat was raw. When I got home, they were already gone. The kitchen was cold, and on the wet bathroom floor lay Leo’s discarded clothes. There were several dirty shoe prints in the living room. I sat on the couch and opened my laptop. I started drafting the divorce papers. My education was just as good as Scarlett’s. Before becoming a stay-at-home dad, I graduated from a prestigious university, passed the bar exam, got my license, and worked as a practicing attorney for two years. I used to pull in a six-figure income, won many cases for my clients, and was a rising star in my field. The turning point came after Scarlett got pregnant. She was at the most crucial, high-stakes phase of her career, with a brand-new, incredibly demanding project landed squarely on her shoulders. That meant frequent business trips, endless meetings, and being on call constantly. One late night, she came home, dragging her tired body, and held me in silence for a long time. Then she said, “Daniel, I’ve done the math. My income is going to grow fast, and the project bonuses are substantial. But if both of us are pushing ourselves this hard, what happens when the baby comes? Leave them with a nanny? Can you really do that?” She looked into my eyes, her voice gentle yet firm. “I know this isn’t fair to you. But a reliable nanny outside would cost almost as much as your current after-tax salary. And… who could be as dedicated as a biological dad?” I wavered. She seized the moment, taking my hand. “Just a few years. Once this project stabilizes and I’ve established myself, we can hire a professional household assistant. Then you can go back to work. With your abilities, I know you’ll be fine. For now, let’s consider this a strategic division of labor for our future, okay?” She gently placed my hand on her swollen belly. “See? The baby needs their dad too.” That one sentence shattered all my defenses. I was overwhelmed by a sense of being intensely needed, even “sanctified.” I envisioned myself as the indispensable, powerful father providing security for our child. When I submitted my resignation, my mentor sadly patted my shoulder. “Daniel, think carefully. Once you leave this legal world, it’s incredibly tough to get back in.” I just smiled, my heart full of anticipation for my new role. Looking back, Scarlett’s silent treatment began subtly around that time. Perhaps when I truly shed my professional identity and spent my days revolving around bottles and diapers, the “sharpness” she once admired in me faded. I slowly transformed from a “partner in arms” to merely an “appendage dependent on her income.” And her change in attitude was like a dull knife slowly carving away at me, little by little, eroding my sense of self-worth.

It was almost evening by the time I finished drafting the divorce papers. Scarlett hadn’t brought Leo home yet. Out of habit, I started worrying about Leo’s homework, then I raised my hand and slapped myself hard. “Even as a dad, I need to be tough. Like his mom.” Then Scarlett called. But the voice on the other end was Caleb’s. “Daniel, it’s me. Scarlett’s had too much to drink and can’t get home by herself. Can you come pick her up?” “You take her home, you two seem pretty close, don’t you?” I glanced at the divorce papers on the table, then changed my mind. “Forget it, I’ll go get her.” I hung up and rushed to the party room as fast as I could. Inside, it was a chaotic mix of people. Besides Caleb, who had called me, everyone else was a stranger. But they all stared at me, their eyes filled with accusation, as if blaming me for not being a good stay-at-home dad. Scarlett was sitting at the head of the table, her face flushed, still raising an empty glass to drink. Leo was next to her, his schoolbag tossed on the floor. Caleb, looking trendy as always, had Leo perched on his lap, chatting away with him. So this was how she took care of our son. No wonder my years of slogging away at home, raising Leo, couldn’t hold a candle to her occasional ‘fun’ outings. I hadn’t even stepped fully inside when Leo shrieked. “Mom, I’m not going home with Dad! Dad’s just going to make me do homework again!” Leo started screaming, dodging around like I was a monster, which finally prompted Scarlett to pretend to open her eyes. “Don’t worry, sweetie, Mom’s here.” Then, someone else in the room started lecturing me with earnest advice. “Daniel, don’t hold a grudge with Scarlett. She’s been crashing at my place for nearly two months now because of you.” “Mine too! Scarlett’s been staying at my house for almost a month, my husband’s even started complaining.” Caleb, who was still by Scarlett’s side, stepped forward. “Daniel, when Scarlett and I talk, she often mentions you and Leo. She really does care about you guys.” That’s when I realized this call wasn’t really for me to pick up Scarlett. They wanted me to break down, get on my knees, apologize to Scarlett, and beg her to come home. I scoffed. “Always with these ‘poor me’ stories. Can’t she just come home herself? Doesn’t she have legs?” “I work my ass off taking care of our son at home, but that’s not ‘suffering.’ She throws a fit and slams the door, and that’s suffering?” “If living it up outside is ‘suffering,’ then maybe you and I should switch places, Scarlett. Stop pretending to be drunk.” “Do you want me to talk about what you’ve done in private, or right here, in front of everyone?” Caleb, who was still beside her, instantly paled. “Daniel, those were all misunderstandings.” Misunderstandings? Fooling around and almost cheating on me while drunk, and when I confronted her, she couldn’t answer, so she gave me the silent treatment instead. Scarlett’s face turned cold again, and she said nothing. She shot Leo a dark look, and he instantly slumped, dragging his feet towards me. As he walked, he kept looking back longingly at Scarlett, hoping she’d call him back. That way, he could keep playing and wouldn’t have to do schoolwork. It was her subtle way of telling me to get lost, taking Leo with me. She wanted to stay here and enjoy herself. Why was it always like this? I was completely fed up. I stood my ground, pulling out the divorce papers.

“Scarlett, we’re getting a divorce.” The noisy room instantly fell silent. Scarlett Hayes finally looked up at me. Her eyes were predictably clear and sharp. Seven years of marriage, no matter how bad our fights got, I had never once mentioned divorce. Scarlett knew my personality: once I decided on something, there was no turning back. She rose from the leather couch in a panic, covering the distance between us in a few steps. “Are you serious?” She was finally willing to look me in the eye and speak normally. She looked down at Leo, then scoffed, “Daniel, if you want a divorce, you’re not getting Leo. He’d rather be with me anyway.” “Stop messing around.” Scarlett was convinced I’d fight for Leo. She wasn’t blind; she knew how much I’d endured and suffered for him over the years. Leo clung tightly to his mother, glaring at me with resentment, as if terrified I’d snatch him away. “Dad, I don’t want you. I want Mom.” Caleb also walked over, a knowing smirk on his face as he advised me. “Daniel, at your age, without a house or a job, you won’t get custody of Leo.” “Just take Leo home. There’s no point staying mad at each other overnight.” I clenched my jaw, my knuckles white on the divorce papers. I knew what I’d face when I came here, but seeing everyone’s disdain and disapproval still made me falter. But no. I pinched myself hard. I reminded myself: Daniel, you have to be ruthless. Softness is a weakness to those who love you, but to those who don’t, it’s just a joke. “Scarlett, don’t worry.” “When we divorce, I don’t want Leo, and I don’t want the house.”

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At the family banquet, my mother ordered the guards to drag me to the center of the hall. “She’s a fraud,” she said calmly. “Strip her of any claim to this family and apologize to your sister.” My brothers stood beside her, watching as my adopted cousin wore my gown, took my seat, and accepted the congratulations meant for me. They accused me of stealing her identity, her engagement, even her place in this family. In my past life, I was cast out as a disgrace that night and died alone. This time, as their voices rose in accusation again, I smiled. They didn’t know—I remembered everything. When my brothers let their foster sister live my life, they thought I’d just accept it. Given another chance, I’d make sure she faced every consequence. When I was eight, the family seer declared my fate was “too fragile” for the capital. So, they sent me away to live in seclusion at Solitude Peak, a place rich with ancient energies. I was supposed to stay until I turned eighteen. But when I finally returned to the family estate, I discovered the truth: For ten years, my so-called loving brothers had let their adopted foster sister, Mirabelle, live in my place, pretending to be me. At the birthday gala of my fiancé, she had the gall to push it even further. Mirabelle snatched the token of our engagement—a gift from my uncle, the King himself—and held it up for the room to see. Pointing at me, she announced, her voice dripping with false sympathy: “Lord Theron, I’m so sorry for this scene. Our… ward here doesn’t know her place. She dared to steal the engagement token the King gifted to us. She even tried to use it to impersonate me and deceive you. Don’t worry, once we’re home, my brothers will see to it she learns proper manners.” If this had been my previous life, I would’ve swallowed the humiliation, desperate to win a shred of approval from my brothers and their darling “sister.” But not this time. Because this time… I had been reborn. I stepped forward, snatched the engagement token from her hand, and threw it to the marble floor with a sharp crack. Then, I slapped her across the face. The sound was so crisp the room fell dead silent. “Mirabelle,” I said, my voice cold and clear in the sudden quiet, “you dare take what’s mine? You must be tired of your comfortable little life.” Everyone froze, stunned by my actions. The silence was thick with shock as people exchanged uneasy glances. Mirabelle, however, was completely thrown. She stumbled back, landing hard on the floor. For a split second, raw, venomous anger flashed in her eyes, but it vanished instantly, replaced by her usual wounded-doe act. She clutched her reddening cheek as tears pooled in her eyes. “Elara,” she whimpered, her voice trembling perfectly, “I know you’ve… admired Lord Theron from afar, but you and he… you’re from different worlds. Please, don’t humiliate yourself like this.” “Different worlds?” I echoed, taking another step forward. My gaze pinned her as I looked down at her carefully arranged misery on the floor. A cold smirk touched my lips. “My mother was a princess of the royal bloodline. My father is Alistair Blackwood, the Duke of Ravenswood, a man whose victories on the battlefield are legendary. My uncle is the King of this realm. I am the trueborn heiress of House Blackwood. And Theron?” I scoffed. “He’s the son of a minor baron. You’re right, Mirabelle—we are worlds apart.” “Elara! How dare you twist the truth like that!” The voice belonged to my youngest brother, Leo, who rushed over, his face a mask of panic. Close behind was my third brother, Marcus, who immediately bent to help Mirabelle up. “Mirabelle, are you alright?” Leo asked, his voice oozing concern as he cupped her face. His brows were knitted with worry, his tone soft as if she were spun glass. Mirabelle gave a weak shake of her head, tears brimming beautifully. She looked up at him with an expression so pitiful it could melt stone. Marcus, meanwhile, turned to Lord Theron with a composed yet stern look. “Lord Theron,” he said, his voice steady and authoritative, “Elara was a charity case in the Blackwood household. My father, out of mercy, took her in as a foster daughter. Clearly, she’s forgotten her place. She’s delusional enough to believe she could pass for a noblewoman—let alone your future wife. Allow me to summon my elder brothers. We’ll handle this matter according to family law.” At his gesture, a servant hurried off to fetch my eldest brothers, Edmund and Julian. The crowd, already buzzing, erupted into louder whispers, their words sharp and cruel. “She’s an imposter! Claiming to be the Duke’s daughter? The nerve!” “I heard the late Duchess loved her true daughter so much she traveled the kingdom, healing and praying for her. Can you imagine her fury seeing this fraud?” “And the Duke himself—he’ll be livid when he hears his real daughter was mistreated. He’ll make that girl regret the day she was born.” “Not to mention the four Blackwood brothers. They dote on Lady Mirabelle. They won’t let this slide.” “If I were her, I’d be groveling at Mirabelle’s feet right now, begging forgiveness.” “Just a country bumpkin trying to play dress-up. A crow in peacock’s feathers. Disgusting.” I let out a soft, humorless laugh, amused by the ridiculous gossip. They weren’t entirely wrong, though. When my parents returned and learned the truth, neither Mirabelle nor my so-called brothers would escape the fallout. Theron stepped forward then, aligning himself with Mirabelle and my brothers, his expression one of smug self-righteousness. “Of course, I take your word, Marcus,” he said, his tone eager to please. “Mirabelle is the very picture of grace and kindness. Someone like her,” he jerked his chin dismissively at me, “could never be the real thing.” He turned to Mirabelle, his gaze softening as he checked her over. Satisfied she wasn’t seriously hurt, he turned his disdain back on me. “And you,” Theron said, contempt dripping from every word, “just two nights ago, you came to me with that token, spinning tales of being the true heiress. Did you honestly think I’d believe you? I’ve known Mirabelle for years—her gentle heart, her noble bearing. And you?” He scoffed, his lip curling. “You’ve been playing a role for so long you’ve forgotten you’re nothing but a stray dressed up for the ball.” Perfect. Everything was unfolding exactly as I’d planned. Theron, oh Theron, if you hadn’t taken the bait and insulted me so thoroughly, how else was I to shatter this pathetic engagement?

When the old Baron Wynthor died and Theron’s family fortunes dwindled under his uninspired leadership, the once-proud House Wynthor grew desperate. That’s when they latched onto the might of House Blackwood, hoping to salvage their crumbling status through a marital alliance. In my previous life, Theron petitioned my uncle, the King, relentlessly for our betrothal decree. His performance of devotion fooled my uncle into granting his consent, gifting us a pair of matching signet rings as a symbol. At the time, I was far away, training in isolation at Solitude Peak. When the rings arrived, I was shocked. But my uncle had a good eye for character, and Theron’s reputation as a handsome, competent young lord was widespread. Imagine my devastation when I returned home to find Theron wrapped around Mirabelle, my so-called foster sister, showering her with affection. For the first time, I ignored my brothers’ warnings and secretly revealed my true identity to Theron, hoping he’d set things right. But he flew into a rage. He ran straight to my brothers, who, terrified Mirabelle’s deception—and their own complicity—would be exposed before our parents returned, decided on a permanent solution. They beat me to death with cudgels beyond the city walls. My body was left unburied, torn apart by scavengers by morning. After my death, the King was furious. Theron, ever the actor, knelt before the throne with tears on his face, swearing he’d always loved me, that he’d been deceived by villains. Such a man… a liar and a coward. Not the husband my uncle had envisioned. Mirabelle, the fool, thought marrying into the Barony meant endless wealth and status, blind to the fact Theron’s house was already on the brink of collapse. What a joke. Now, in this life, the crowd stood firmly on Mirabelle’s side. She shot me a fleeting, triumphant glance before demurely lowering her gaze. Her voice, sweet and soft, carried just the right note of heartbreak: “Elara, I’ve always thought of you as a sister. How could you betray me like this? Pretending to be me just to marry Theron… Don’t you care how much this hurts?” She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, her face a masterpiece of betrayed innocence. Her act was so convincing a wave of sympathetic murmurs swept the room. “Sister?” I sneered, my voice icy. “You think you’ve earned that title?” I stepped forward, my gaze sharp as a honed blade. “From the day you were brought into this house as a foster daughter, you’ve coveted everything that belonged to me. And every time, I let you have it. My dresses, my jewels, my books—whatever you wanted, I gave it. Even when you mistreated the staff, I covered for you, afraid my brothers would send you away if they knew. “And how do you repay me, Mirabelle? By stealing my betrothed?” I laughed coldly, the sound cutting through the whispers. “Your greed has no bottom.” Tears welled in Mirabelle’s eyes. She bit her lip, trembling like a leaf in a storm. The sight made the spectators’ hearts soften further. “Mirabelle, you’re too kind for your own good,” Leo said soothingly, patting her shoulder. “That’s why vipers like her think they can take advantage.” Three pairs of furious eyes locked onto me, their combined anger a palpable force. Theron, emboldened by their support, stepped forward and declared, his voice ringing out bold and clear: “I, Theron of House Wynthor, would never stoop to marry a creature like her! I swear, my heart belongs only to Mirabelle, and I will never take another woman as my wife—not now, not ever!” His words drew gasps of admiration. “Such devotion!” “Lord Theron is a man of principle! A true love story!” “And that shameless girl dared to interfere? Ridiculous!” I let out a soft, mocking chuckle, my eyes fixed on Theron’s face. “Are you sure?” I asked, my tone light, almost teasing. “You’re choosing her? Over me?” Theron shot me a look of pure disgust, as if my presence soiled the air. “You? A low-born wretch like you dares to ask? Even the stable boys at Wynthor Manor are above you. Marry you? Don’t make me laugh.” Laughter erupted around us, the crowd pointing and jeering. “Good,” I said quietly, my smile widening. “Your choice is made. No regrets?” “None,” he spat, his voice firm. “Perfect.” At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed. My eldest two brothers, Edmund and Julian, arrived, completing the cast. The sight of them brought back the memory of my previous life, of the day they stood over me, faces cold as they condemned me to death. ‘You dare defy us and expose Mirabelle? You thought you could steal her fiancé? You’ve gone too far!’ ‘Nothing but trouble since we took her in. Cut out her tongue.’ ‘The tongue isn’t enough. She can write. Better to finish it. Let the dogs have her. We’ll tell Father and Mother she ran away.’ ‘Yes. With her gone, Mirabelle can truly be the only daughter of House Blackwood.’ The memory sent a chill down my spine, but I clenched my fists, forcing calm. Now, everyone was here. And it was time to end this charade for good.

“Edmund! Julian!” The moment Mirabelle saw them enter, her eyes welled up on command. She looked utterly pathetic, the perfect victim. Julian, my second brother, shot me a venomous glare before turning to Mirabelle, his voice softening into syrup. “Mirabelle, don’t be afraid. Tell me everything. I’ll make sure justice is served.” “It’s… it’s nothing, really,” she replied with a weak, forgiving smile, her voice trembling slightly. “Elara’s just… jealous. She wanted to pretend to be the Duke’s daughter, but I understand. She’s naive, her head filled with silly dreams.” “She dares impersonate you?” Julian’s voice turned hard as he glared my way. Edmund’s brow was furrowed, his tone glacial. “We have one sister. That’s Mirabelle. Elara is a servant in this household, nothing more.” The moment those words left his mouth, I saw the same murderous intent I remembered from my past life. With his declaration, the crowd’s disdain for me solidified. Then a girl stepped from the crowd—Chloe, daughter of a minor lordling and one of Mirabelle’s most devoted followers. She crossed her arms, radiating righteous outrage. “This wretch even laid hands on Lady Mirabelle!” Chloe exclaimed. “I saw it myself last night! Poor Mirabelle’s back is covered in awful bruises!” “Chloe, please…” Mirabelle bit her lip, teary eyes glistening as she looked up. “Mirabelle, did she really hurt you?” Julian’s face darkened as he stepped closer, voice tight with anger. “I’m sure Elara didn’t mean it,” Mirabelle murmured, magnanimous in her martyrdom. “Please, don’t blame her because of me.” Her words, sounding like mercy, confirmed the story for the crowd. To them, she was the blameless victim, I the vicious aggressor. Mirabelle’s frail figure, trembling just so, deepened the crowd’s sympathy. My brothers stared at me like wolves eyeing prey. “Elara!” they barked in unison, eyes blazing. I arched a brow, turning to Chloe first. “The daughter of a fourth-tier court functionary presumes to address me so? Perhaps you should fetch your father before speaking further.” As her face flushed, I turned my cold smile on Mirabelle. “You claim I struck you? That you bear injuries? Fine. Let them be examined.” The words made both their expressions shift. Chloe’s face contorted with rage. “You filthy gutter-rat! You’re not fit to clean my boots! Mirabelle’s word is proof enough! Who else could have done it?” “Who knows?” I shrugged. “Perhaps you did it yourselves.” Chloe spluttered. Mirabelle’s lips quivered, tears falling like scattered pearls. She threw herself against Julian, sobbing. “To examine the marks… I’d have to undress! She wants to shame me, to ruin my reputation! How could I bear it?” Her words were fuel to fire. Theron, who’d been watching, jumped to his feet. “Elara, how dare you!” he roared. “Mirabelle is my future wife! I won’t allow her to be humiliated!” “Touch her and you answer to us!” Leo snarled, anger boiling over. “So malicious, Elara,” Marcus spat. “We should’ve gotten rid of you long ago.” I didn’t bother with their threats. I waved to a servant. “Bring a privacy screen. Let’s settle this properly.” Smack! The sound of a sharp slap echoed. A sting bloomed on my cheek. Mirabelle’s lips twitched with suppressed satisfaction, though her eyes couldn’t hide her triumph. “Well done, Edmund!” Leo cheered, clapping while the others smirked. Edmund glared, eyes cold with anger. “You dared hurt Mirabelle? That was mercy. Kneel. Apologize. Maybe we’ll spare you.” Smack! Before he finished, I struck him across the face. He stared, eyes wide, stunned silent. “Elara, you—” Smack! I hit him again. “You—” Smack! Three slaps total. Edmund’s face flamed crimson, blood trickling from his lip. He looked like a bull ready to charge. “Feel better now?” I asked calmly, voice empty. The room fell silent. The crowd was stunned. Edmund, heir to the Dukedom of Ravenswood, had been slapped—three times—in public. “Elara! Kneel and apologize to him now!” Leo bellowed. I let out a cold laugh. “Him? A Duke? That’s a joke. You’ve all forgotten where you came from. Shall I remind you?” My voice dripped contempt as I continued, “Father and Mother have one trueborn child. Me. The four of you? Orphans, taken in from the gutter after your wastrel father died in a brothel. You’re lucky to bear the Blackwood name.” Their faces paled, hands trembling. “Enough talk!” Julian growled. He handed Mirabelle to Theron, drew a dagger from his belt. “If you won’t kneel, I’ll take your hands. See how stubborn you are then.” “No need for that,” Edmund said coldly. He grabbed the dagger and plunged it toward my chest. The crowd gasped. “Die!” he hissed, eyes red with rage. Theron shielded Mirabelle’s eyes. “Don’t look, my love. It’s too ugly.” But there was no spray of blood. Just a metallic clang. Edmund stared, terror dawning, at the unyielding blade. “W-what…?” “Such a shame,” I said, smirking as I pulled my cloak aside, revealing the glint of golden scales beneath my gown. “A gift from the King. An enchanted breastplate. Quite impenetrable.” The dagger clattered as he stumbled back. Then a deep, thunderous voice cut through the tension: “You wretched fools! How dare you raise a hand to my daughter!” My father, the Iron Duke Alistair Blackwood, stood in the doorway, just returned from the border wars. The massive, blood-streaked greatsword on his back and the cold, battle-hardened look in his eyes made the boldest nobles shrink back. “The Duke… his presence is terrifying.”

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