Category: English

Picking up my husband at the airport, I bumped into Brandon Harrison, my ex-fiancé who’d ghosted our wedding two years ago to go see elephants in Kenya with his adopted sister. I was wearing sunglasses, but he still spotted me instantly in the crowd. “Alexis Hayes, I’m back to marry you.” My eyes narrowed slightly. “You are…?” He gave a helpless chuckle. “Hey, sweetie, don’t be mad, I didn’t mean to ditch for so long. After Willow saw the elephants, she wanted photos, and she’s my only sister, so I had to spoil her.” “Two years of shooting and, boom, done! I rushed back to fulfill our engagement.” That’s when it clicked. This man was my ex-fiancé! But seriously, had no one bothered to tell him I married his uncle *the same day* he ran away? The airport was a madhouse. Brandon Harrison wheeled a luggage cart with one hand, a Chanel bag dangling from the other. Willow, her skin several shades darker, perched on the suitcase, letting Brandon push her along. Two years in Africa made them look like they’d spent two years digging coal. Absolutely sun-baked. Brandon used to be so fair, handsome, and in great shape. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have agreed to the arranged marriage. But now… Good thing he wasn’t my husband anymore. I took off my sunglasses, forcing a polite smile. “Oh, my apologies. Long time no see. You both have changed so much, I didn’t recognize you at first glance.” Willow, true to form, immediately spat. “Don’t pretend you didn’t recognize us! You’re obviously here to pick up Brandon!” “If Brandon and I hadn’t ditched our phones and gone completely off-grid after we left, you probably would’ve tracked us to Africa yourself!” “Honestly, I don’t know what Brandon sees in you. You’re just a pretty face with nothing else going for you.” Willow huffed, turning her head away dramatically. Brandon ruffled her hair, a helpless smile playing on his lips, and playfully poked her nose. “You can’t be so childish after Alexis and I get married.” “Otherwise, I won’t take you on your artistic journey to Africa next year.” After calming Willow down, he turned to me, explaining, “She’s just got a childish temper. You know her dad died protecting me in that car crash, and she lost her father because of it.” “Once we’re married, we’ll be a united front. I hope you can look out for her, treat her like your own sister.” Was he even listening to the BS coming out of his mouth? I rolled my eyes, a silent, elegant dismissal, and flashed the wedding ring on my finger. “Mr. Harrison Jr., thank you for bailing on me back then. It led me to a man a thousand times better than you.” “And please, don’t flatter yourself. I’m here to pick up my husband today.” Brandon froze. Then he narrowed his eyes at me for a long moment before raising an eyebrow and smiling. “Alexis Hayes, do you take me for a fool?” “The Harrison-Hayes merger was the talk of New York two years ago. Every socialite and dignitary was there. Everyone knows you’re *my* fiancée, Alexis.” “Okay, it was wrong of me to run away and embarrass you, but your reputation is trashed. Who else would possibly want you after this?” So that’s why he dared to run! He was convinced I’d be a “discarded woman,” that no one else would have me! He truly overestimated himself and underestimated me. To clean up his mess, Grandpa had to make some serious sacrifices, not just financially with company shares, but also by involving his own son, Devin. To soothe the Hayes family’s fury, Grandpa had personally offered to transfer the shares originally meant for Brandon, to me. Looks like Brandon had no idea. Of course. Spending two years off-grid for Willow, not even making a single call home, he wouldn’t know any of this. Still, I hope he can keep that smile on his face when he returns to the Harrison family estate tonight.

Brandon initially refused the arranged marriage, saying he’d rather die than yield. But then he saw me, fell instantly in love, and declared he’d marry no one else. He shamelessly pursued me for over half a year. Seeing that he kept himself out of trouble and wasn’t a playboy, I finally agreed. But before long, Brandon had Willow by his side, an adopted sister he spoiled like a princess. On our wedding day, he got a call from her. “Brandon, remember what you promised? To take me to Africa to see the elephants.” “I’m waiting for you at the airport. If you don’t come, I’ll jump from the top floor!” Brandon gave me an apologetic look, then, without hesitation, he let go of my hand, abandoned the guests, and sprinted away. I received two texts from him, then he became unreachable. *“Willow’s dad saved my life. Willow is his only daughter, I can’t let anything happen to her!”* *“Don’t worry, I’ll be back after she sees the elephants. A week at most, then I’ll be back to finish our wedding, and we can go to the Maldives for our honeymoon.”* Grandpa Harrison was furious. To give the Hayes family an explanation, Grandpa Harrison promised me: “Alexis, it’s entirely the Harrison family’s fault for raising such an irresponsible son. Tell me, what compensation do you want?” I pointed to Grandpa Harrison’s youngest son, and the current head of the Harrison empire, Devin Harrison. “Then give him to me. This wedding still needs a groom.” And just like that, I married Brandon Harrison’s uncle. Thinking of this, I checked the time. Devin’s flight should be arriving soon. I was about to text him when his message popped up: *My love, flight delayed. Just boarded, might be super late. Don’t wait up for me, Mr. Davies can pick me up.* *Love you.* Followed by a huge heart emoji. A soft smile touched my lips, and my brows smoothed out. Even my annoying ex-fiancé didn’t seem so irritating anymore. Brandon stood with his arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his face as he stared at my phone. “Oh, what’s this? Hired an actor? Saved as ‘My Love’? And ‘flight delayed’?” “Alexis, don’t joke around like that. You know I’ll get mad.” With that, he suddenly leaned in, reaching out to touch my hair. I quickly stepped back, leaving his hand suspended awkwardly in mid-air. “I told you, I’m married. If you keep harassing me, you’ll be lucky if you only end up with a broken leg when you get home tonight.” Brandon burst out laughing, as if I’d said something hilarious. He pointed to my neck, raising an eyebrow. “That necklace you’re wearing, Grandpa said he’d pass it down to *my* wife. And you’re wearing it, yet trying to tell me you married someone else?” The necklace was indeed a gift from Grandpa Harrison, but it wasn’t meant for his wife. “I married…” Before I could finish, Willow cut me off. “Is it *that* necklace?” She hopped off the suitcase and pushed her way between Brandon and me. When she saw it was the necklace she’d been coveting, her eyes instantly welled up. She clung to Brandon’s arm, her voice dropping. “Brandon, I’ve liked this necklace for ages, and Grandpa never gave it to me. Now he just gives it to some outsider.” “Grandpa… doesn’t he see me as family? I’m just a driver’s daughter, unlike Alexis, who was lucky enough to be born rich. Even Grandpa prefers her.” Hearing that, Brandon’s face softened with apology again. He looked at me, a hint of awkwardness in his gaze. “Willow is young, and she’s had a tough life, so she’s always a bit insecure. Just let her have it.” “She likes this necklace, just give it to her. I’ll buy you a new one later, I promise it’ll be prettier and better quality than this one.”

I laughed. A bitter, angry laugh. “I suggest you get your head checked. If I’m not mistaken, Willow is twenty-five this year, a few months older than me, right?” “First, I hate man-children. Second, I hate manipulative parasites who steal from people. And she’s both.” My words stung Willow, and tears immediately streamed down her face. “Brandon will spoil me no matter how old I am, you’re just jealous!” “You’re not even married to Brandon yet, what right does an outsider have to Harrison family property? *You’re* the shameless one!” Willow was nominally an adopted daughter of the Harrison family, but in reality, she was more like a glorified housekeeper. Brandon had once campaigned to make Willow a true heiress, but Grandpa Harrison firmly refused, so he had to drop it. Because of this, he felt guilty towards Willow. Now, seeing her upset, he looked truly pained. He frowned. “Willow is different from you. She doesn’t have parents, she only has me. Grandpa refused to let her change her name, that’s why she has no sense of security…” I cut him off, offering a suggestion. “You want Willow to be recognized? Easy.” “If you marry her, I’ll gladly give her this necklace. Consider it a wedding gift from me.” I unclipped the necklace from my neck and extended it to Willow. Willow’s eyes widened in disbelief, then undisguised glee. She reached out to take it. “No!” Brandon snatched the necklace away, clutching it tightly in his fist. “What nonsense are you talking about? Willow is just… just my adopted sister. You’re the one I want to spend my life with!” “She’s family, but you’re my love. Don’t say things you don’t mean, or I’ll really get angry.” Staring into those supposedly loving eyes, I felt no emotion except disgust. Not wanting to waste another second, I turned and walked away. Ignoring whatever Brandon was still saying behind me. Stepping out of the airport, a discreet Maybach pulled up in front of me. The driver got out and opened the door. “Madam, Mr. Harrison instructed me to pick him up later. Shall I take you home first?” Devin had been away on a business trip for two weeks. Grandpa knew he was returning today and specifically requested dinner at the family estate tonight. Suddenly, someone pushed past me and quickly got into the car. Willow settled herself, then sneered. “Didn’t you say you were married? Why are you still hitching a ride in *our* family car? Go take *your* husband’s car!” Willow recognized the Maybach; it was Devin Harrison’s. Brandon evidently recognized it too, looking pleasantly surprised. After all, his uncle didn’t usually bother with such trivial matters. He sat next to Willow, buckled her seatbelt, then turned to me. “You can sit in front. Willow is used to sitting next to me. I’ll have the driver drop you off at the Hayes estate first.” “No need. I have my own car. Driver, please take them back to the estate. I have other plans.” I pulled out my car keys, pressed unlock, and a Lamborghini Veneno in the distance flashed its lights twice. Seeing me drive off in a supercar, Willow’s eyes glinted with jealousy. Brandon sighed. “She specifically came to pick me up, she must be upset I didn’t get in her car.” Then he asked the driver, “Did Uncle send you to pick me up?” The driver answered truthfully. “No, sir. I’m here to pick up Mr. Harrison.” The air hung heavy for two seconds before Brandon spoke. “…What a coincidence. So where is Uncle?” “Flight delayed.” I went to the spa, enjoyed a luxurious treatment, and only headed back to the estate when it was almost dinner time. The moment I stepped out of my car, I saw two figures kneeling stiffly, like wooden stakes, right at the front gate. Turns out, after the driver dropped them off, Grandpa Harrison, upon hearing it was Brandon and Willow, immediately slammed his cane to the ground and refused to let them in. “Get out! Why didn’t you just die in Africa? What are you back for?” Brandon gambled on Grandpa’s soft spot, dropping to his knees at the door. Willow, to accompany him, also knelt. Seeing me arrive, Brandon stood up and blocked my path. His previously dejected expression vanished, replaced by a smile. “I knew it, you couldn’t stay away.” “Did you hear Grandpa was punishing me and rushed over in a panic?” I grimaced and tried to walk around him. But he blocked me again, putting on a pretense of concern. “Don’t go in. Grandpa’s still fuming. I’m afraid he’ll take it out on you.” Willow had approached at some point. She pointed a finger at my nose, her voice accusatory. “Are you still holding a grudge about Brandon ditching the wedding for me?” “You’re the one stirring trouble, aren’t you? Grandpa usually dotes on Brandon, why would he refuse to let him in?” “You’re just here to gloat!” With that, she lunged at me, trying to grab me. I sidestepped, and she face-planted onto the ground. Willow landed hard, scraping her knee, and tears instantly flooded her eyes. Brandon pursed his lips, his smile fading. He immediately knelt to check Willow’s injury. Seeing she was fine, he skillfully scooped her up in a princess carry and consoled her for a long time until she finally started to smile through her tears. Only then did Brandon remember me. He sighed. “Alexis, you’re acting so unlike yourself.” “Willow never means what she says. If you’re going to marry me, you need to learn to be more tolerant of her.” “Just apologize to Willow this once. In the future, I hope you can change your attitude.” What? My vision swam. I sneered. “Should I also offer some compensation to soothe her wounded heart?” A flicker of greed flashed in Willow’s eyes. “I need a car for getting around. That one you drove today is barely acceptable.” A Lamborghini Veneno. Limited to 3 models worldwide, worth $23 million each. Willow really had some nerve. Brandon started making decisions for me again. “It’s rare for Willow to like something, so just give her the car. Consider it compensation for hurting her.” I stared at him, my voice flat. “You’re truly something.” “What?” Brandon didn’t catch on. “I said, you’re sick.” I shoved Brandon aside and walked straight into the house. “Stop right there!” Brandon realized he’d been played. His face was livid, and he threatened, his voice sharp. “Alexis Hayes, I’m telling you now, if you don’t apologize to Willow, you can forget about marrying me, forget about stepping foot into my family’s house!” *CRASH—* Suddenly, a cane came flying out, striking Brandon squarely on the head. From several feet away, Grandpa Harrison’s booming voice, surprisingly strong for his age, echoed clearly for everyone to hear. “You imbecile! Do you even know who that is?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “318689”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

My brother, Trevor, and I transmigrated together to a primitive beast-shifter tribe. In this primitive world, males were rare and highly valued, leading to a system where men could have multiple female partners. The tribe’s Chief told us to choose our mates first. Trevor, his face flushed with excitement, eagerly picked the exceptionally gifted Snake-shifter. I chose the fiercely loyal Wolf-shifter. In my past life, while the Snake-shifter was hibernating, Trevor opened his “harem,” taking several other partners, dreaming of a life surrounded by beautiful women. But the Snake-shifter was possessive and obsessive. When she found out, she locked Trevor in a cold, damp underground cave, forcing him to provide sperm, making her conceive clutch after clutch of eggs. Meanwhile, the Wolf-shifter pampered me, eventually inheriting the position of tribe Chief. On the day of the inheritance ceremony, Trevor, consumed by jealousy, suddenly rushed forward and pushed me off a cliff. When I opened my eyes again, we were back on the day we chose our mates. This time, Trevor snatched the Wolf-shifter first. “Alex, this time, I’m going to be the Chief’s consort.” I smiled, pointing at the White Tiger Priestess. “I choose her.” What was so great about being the Chief’s consort? Since this primitive tribe revered males, wouldn’t it be perfectly reasonable for me to become a beast-shifter emperor?

After my brother pushed me off the cliff, I was reborn. Reborn to the exact day in my previous life when we had first transmigrated to the primitive beast-shifter tribe. The moment I opened my eyes, the White Tiger tribe’s Chief’s ancient voice echoed in my ears. “All the unmated females of our White Tiger tribe are here. You two precious males, choose whoever you like.” In my past life, when we first arrived, we were pretty confused. But somehow, miraculously, we could understand what these shifters were saying. Back in our world, Trevor was a total playboy, always chasing thrills. As soon as he understood the Chief’s words, he practically leaped to choose the beautiful, elegant Snake-shifter as his mate. “Heh, this is gonna be interesting,” he whispered excitedly to me after making his choice. For him, this shifter tribe was practically paradise. He then scanned the line of shifters and suggested to me, “Alex, you’re too quiet. If you pick someone too pretty and she gets snatched by another guy, you’d be screwed. I think those few who look ‘steady’ would be good.” The ones he pointed to were all powerful and imposing shifters in their human forms. But I still took his advice. Not because I was genuinely afraid of my mate being poached, but because among the shifters he pointed out, there was a Wolf-shifter. It was said that Wolf-shifters were fiercely loyal to their mates, taking only one for life. If I chose her, I wouldn’t have to worry about Trevor trying to steal her away. And sure enough, in my last life, that Wolf-shifter proved utterly devoted to me. No matter how Trevor tried to poach her, she remained unmoved. Trevor was incredibly frustrated by this. He’d sneer sarcastically, “Alex, your Wolf-shifter mate is too stubbornly devoted, isn’t she? So foolish, she can’t even tell good from bad.” I just offered a faint smile, noncommittal. I agreed that the Wolf-shifter was single-minded when it came to her mate. But to call her foolish? That was a massive misconception. If she were truly foolish, she wouldn’t have cleverly leveraged my presence to secure her own standing, making one achievement after another, ultimately maneuvering her way into the Chief’s position. However, the Wolf-shifter kept me under strict watch, so Trevor remained completely ignorant of all this. This time, the Chief’s words had barely finished when Trevor, without hesitation, pointed at the Wolf-shifter and declared, “I want her as my mate.” Hearing his words, the Wolf-shifter’s eyes instantly gleamed with surprise and joy. In the White Tiger tribe, Wolf-shifters were, at best, of middle-to-lower strength. Typically, males wouldn’t even consider a Wolf-shifter. The other shifters, seeing Trevor choose the Wolf-shifter, looked on with visible resentment. “Noble male, how could she, a low-ranking Wolf-shifter, be worthy of you?” A large Bear-shifter thumped his muscular chest, indignantly. The Wolf-shifter’s expression immediately became tense, tinged with a hint of insecurity. But Trevor just smiled faintly, walking straight towards the Wolf-shifter. “I want her. I believe the female I choose will be the best.” Before leaving, he quickly leaned in and whispered to me, “Alex, this time, I’m going to be the Chief’s consort.” I just said nothing, watching him actively take the Wolf-shifter’s hand. The Wolf-shifter gazed at him, deeply moved, then let out an excited howl directed at the sky. Seeing this, the other shifters glared enviously and jealously at the lucky Wolf-shifter, then turned their eager gazes towards me. I slowly scanned over them, finally letting my eyes settle on the Snake-shifter. Trevor, noticing my gaze, shifted his eyes and said, “Alex, the Snake-shifter is incredibly skilled in… that area. You’re inexperienced, so why not choose her? It might spare you some discomfort in bed.” Hearing Trevor’s suggestion, I politely declined with a faint smile. “No, thanks. You know I don’t like spineless creatures.” Then, I pointed to the tall, agile White Tiger Priestess standing beside the Snake-shifter. “I choose her.” At my words, a hint of joy appeared on the faces of both the White Tiger Priestess and Chief Kaelen. Trevor, however, couldn’t help but show a look of schadenfreude. I knew exactly what he was thinking. The White Tiger Priestess I chose was not only the tribe’s Priestess but also Chief Kaelen’s daughter. Under normal circumstances, she was destined to inherit leadership of the White Tiger tribe. But in my past life, the Lion-shifter tribe had ambushed her with all their able-bodied females while she was hunting. The fierce and formidable White Tiger Priestess was severely wounded, developed an infection, and died. It was only because of this that I had the opportunity to strategize and secure the Chief’s position for the Wolf-shifter. This time, however, I wouldn’t let the White Tiger Priestess meet such a tragic end. I wanted her to be the sharpest blade in my hand. What was so great about the Chief’s consort position Trevor cared so much about? Since this primitive tribe revered males, wouldn’t it be perfectly reasonable for me to become a beast-shifter emperor in this world? This life, I only wanted to control my own destiny.

After Trevor and I had each chosen our mates, we began to forge our bonds in front of all the White Tiger tribe’s shifters. In the primitive tribe, a male could have multiple secondary partners, but only the female who had truly bonded with him had the right to live in his dwelling. As for secondary partners, they were no different from mistresses in modern society. Of course, unlike human society, these secondary partners in the primitive shifter tribe were openly accepted and legitimate, not like secret lovers hidden away. But if a secondary partner lost the male’s favor and was cast aside, it was considered a completely normal occurrence. In my past life, Trevor had leveraged this fact, daring to openly flirt with other shifters while the possessive and obsessive Snake-shifter was in hibernation. He had always intended to just have his fun and then find an excuse to dump his secondary partners. Unfortunately, he totally screwed up. Males were already incredibly scarce in this world, so how could those shifters, who had finally gotten a chance to be his secondary partners, give up so easily? So, when the Snake-shifter emerged from her cave after hibernation, she was immediately surrounded by the shifters Trevor had flirted with, all demanding answers. Trevor’s excuse for rejecting them was that the Snake-shifter wouldn’t allow him to have secondary partners. When the Snake-shifter learned that Trevor had been flirting with so many shifters while she was hibernating, she exploded. After a brutal fight with these secondary partners, she dragged Trevor back to her snake cave, her face grim. Then, she completely cut off his contact with other shifters. When she entered her breeding cycle, she forced Trevor to cooperate, successfully conceiving and laying clutch after clutch of snake eggs. Trevor had tried to escape and call for help, but the Snake-shifter never gave him a chance to leave. It wasn’t until the day of the ceremony for the Wolf-shifter to inherit the White Tiger tribe leadership, which required every old, weak, woman, and child in the tribe to attend, that Trevor finally had a chance to leave the cave. Because the Chief’s inheritance ceremony involved a ritualistic offering to the Sky Spirits, the location chosen was the cliff behind the tribe. He saw me, who had always been second best to him, become the Chief’s consort, and he was consumed by jealousy. Then, while all the shifters were kneeling to worship the Sky Spirits, he rushed at me and violently pushed me off the cliff. “Alex, you’ve always been second best to me since we were kids! Why do you get to live a better life than me? Go to hell!”

My family and Trevor’s used to be neighbors. In the past, my family’s financial situation was even better than theirs. But after my parents died in a car accident, my biased grandmother took everything and gave it to my uncle’s family. Trevor’s uncle, seeing my pitiful state, sponsored me. Later, I regretted countless times accepting their sponsorship. Because Trevor would tell anyone who’d listen that his family funded my education, that I’d be in an orphanage without them. Because of that, I always felt like I owed him, always a step beneath Trevor. He didn’t like it when I excelled in exams, so I’d deliberately do poorly, becoming his convenient contrast. And my friends gradually drifted away after Trevor arrived. Even my college girlfriend was deliberately poached by Trevor, who came all the way to visit during our extended holiday break. “Alex, don’t be mad. I just wanted to test if she truly loved you. You’re my best friend, and I was worried you’d get hurt by a manipulative woman.” “See? I proved it, didn’t I? You really should thank me.” I just gave him a grateful smile. “Yeah, thanks, Trevor.” Trevor grinned triumphantly. “No problem, what are best friends for?” I just sneered internally. The word “friend” was defiled by people like him! But the fact remained that the Fu family had shown me kindness. I couldn’t afford to have a complete fallout with Trevor and upset his uncle. However, that was all in the past now. From the moment Trevor pushed me off that cliff, I no longer owed his family anything.

The bonding was completed quickly. Chief Kaelen then smiled at us. “Alright, now that the bonds are formed, you may each return to your dwellings.” “The other females shouldn’t be discouraged. If you can win the favor of these two males, there’s always a chance you could become their secondary partners.” Hearing Chief Kaelen’s words, the other shifters’ expressions relaxed, and their eyes blazed with desire, fixing on Trevor and me. Anya, the White Tiger Priestess, narrowed her eyes, instantly shielding me with her body. Then she snarled at the other shifters, “He’s mine! I’m not sharing him with any of you!” “Anyone who dares to covet my male, I’ll tear her to shreds.” Seeing the White Tiger Priestess’s declaration, the other shifters’ faces showed regret. They knew the Priestess’s power all too well. To contend with the Priestess for a male, they probably had no hope at all. But dealing with that Wolf-shifter would be much simpler. In an instant, all the remaining shifters in the clearing fixed their gazes on Trevor. Their looks towards the Wolf-shifter, however, were filled with murderous intent. A shifter’s strength was paramount, and the Wolf-shifter’s power didn’t even rank in the top hundred of their entire White Tiger tribe. How could she possibly be worthy of bonding with such a precious male? They could understand the Priestess monopolizing a male, after all, she was the strongest female in their White Tiger tribe. But the Wolf-shifter? She was completely unworthy of monopolizing a precious male! Trevor, watching the shifters vie for his attention, a faint smile played on his lips. As if this was the treatment he deserved. But he had no idea that once he entered the wolf’s den, getting out wouldn’t be so easy. I gave him a fleeting glance and then said to Anya, “I’m tired, I want to go back and rest.” Hearing my words, Anya’s face instantly showed a look of concern. The next moment, her arm, thicker than my thigh, easily scooped me up. “I’ll take you back to sleep right away,” Anya said, her voice deep. Then she swiftly carried me securely in her arms and sprinted towards her stone dwelling.

The Priestess’s status in the tribe was actually higher than the Chief’s. Because the Priestess was not only responsible for rituals and divination, and the tribe’s secret knowledge, but also for healing injured shifters. After all, medical systems in primitive societies were extremely scarce; whether a shifter survived an injury depended entirely on the Priestess, the sole inheritor of medicinal knowledge in the tribe. Anya carried me back to her stone dwelling, then carefully placed my body on the stone bed covered with animal hides. Her brilliant golden eyes watched me intently. “You sit for a bit, I’ll get you a blanket.” I nodded at her. Soon, she returned from a wooden chest with a large animal hide blanket. But to my surprise, she wasn’t getting the blanket to cover me; instead, she spread it over the stone bed again. After neatly laying out the blanket, she gazed directly at my exposed skin. “Your skin looks very delicate. I’ll put an extra layer of blanket for you, so the stone bed won’t be rough.” It wasn’t that no males in the tribe had shown her affection or made advances. But she had always shown little interest in the tribe’s males. Today, meeting me, she realized that she actually liked strong and resolute males like me. Moreover, my scent was truly wonderful, intoxicating her to the point where she couldn’t bear to be far from me.

I hadn’t expected Anya, who looked so fierce and strong, to be so thoughtful. “Yeah, thank you. By the way, what’s your name? I’m Alex.” “I’m Anya. If there’s anything you need, just tell me,” Anya said. I nodded again. “Okay, I got it. I’m going to sleep now.” Trevor and I had mysteriously stumbled into this unrecorded primitive tribe while hiking. Before being discovered by the White Tiger shifters and brought back to the tribe, we had already hiked for almost two hours. So, I was truly exhausted now. Seeing me lie down, Anya lowered her voice. “Then I won’t disturb your rest. I’ll go find you something to eat. What do you want for dinner?” Thinking of the primitive tribe’s eating habits, I shivered, quickly saying, “Some berries, and boil some meat soup. The meat needs to be cut very finely, otherwise, I can’t chew it.” Shifters in this primitive tribe could transform between their animal and human forms. When they were in their animal forms, eating raw prey was perfectly normal. However, most of the time, they maintained human form, only shifting to animal form during combat. And shifters in human form rarely ate raw meat; they usually cooked meat into soup or roasted it. But because shifters were so massive, they would cut food into large chunks when cooking for easy gnawing. Each bone was longer than my forearm. Gnawing on massive bones might be easy for them, but for human teeth, it was an immense challenge. Because the animal meat in primitive society was generally tough and hard to chew, even cooked meat was incredibly difficult to bite. In my past life, because I couldn’t get used to the food here, I could only fill my stomach with berries every day. Because of this, I fell severely ill after a summer rain and almost didn’t make it. Fortunately, Anya, as the Priestess, had some real skill. After she gave me some black, gooey paste dissolved in water, I recovered. Anya listened to my words, stared at my face for a moment, then nodded seriously. “I understand. Go to sleep now.” “Mhm.” Then, I closed my eyes. Because I was so utterly exhausted, I soon genuinely fell asleep. When I woke up again, the sky had already darkened. I abruptly sat up from the stone bed. “Alex, you’re awake? You must be hungry, get up and eat something.” Anya’s low voice sounded in my ear. I rubbed my empty stomach and got out of bed. On the wooden table in the dwelling, two stone bowls were already set. One held meat soup, and the other, unknown berries. “Did you eat?” I asked, sitting at the wooden table. Anya grunted in affirmation, her golden eyes fixed on my face, her shining desire direct and scorching. “I’ve already eaten. You hurry and eat.” “Okay.” I tightened my grip on the spoon, knowing she wouldn’t let me off the hook tonight. Then I slowly sipped the meat soup. Anya was indeed much more capable than the Wolf-shifter. I only mentioned it once, and she cut the meat into thin strips and stewed it until it was tender. Although it only had salt, it tasted truly delicious. Before I knew it, I had eaten more than half a bowl. But because this bowl of meat soup was simply too much, I couldn’t eat the rest. “I’m full,” I said, putting down my spoon. Anya glanced at my stomach, as if confirming I was truly full. Then her eyes gazed intensely at me, her voice hoarse. “I’ll clear the bowls. We have mountain hot spring water channeled into the dwelling; you can go to the bath pool to wash.” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but feel a little surprised. Anya’s stone dwelling actually had a hot spring? Then I wouldn’t have to worry about bathing in the future. Most shifters lived rough, bathing directly in the river, but I wouldn’t dare. After Anya took the stone bowls out, I walked towards the place Anya mentioned, guided by the dim light. Looking at the swirling steam, I took off my clothes and stepped in. Before I could even finish washing, Anya walked in, holding a torch. After sticking the torch into the wall, Anya approached me step by step. Her scorching gaze seemed to want to melt my body. My body trembled involuntarily. The Wolf-shifter’s physique was nowhere near as powerful as Anya’s. Last life, I suffered so much, almost losing half my life. With Anya, I was afraid I might die in bed. Just as I was worrying, Anya’s dominant and powerful arms embraced me. Her body temperature, hotter than the hot spring water, made me go limp all over.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “318678”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

After I finally woke up, my wife and son, who always favored my childhood friend, came to regret it. It was my birthday, but my wife, Ava, and our son, Leo, had made a brand-new robot model for her childhood friend, Ryan. He even posted it on Ins. I casually liked the post, and a moment later, I got a text from Ava, filled with accusation: “We gave you one too, didn’t we? Leo even baked you a cake himself! What more could you possibly be upset about?” But Ryan’s robot was clearly the latest model, and even the cake Leo made for him was a little bigger than mine. They loved me, sure, but they loved Ryan more. Maybe it was time I tried to let go, to love them a little less. Ava and Leo came home just as the clock struck midnight, ticking over to the next day. The birthday cake on the table was untouched. The little sign on it read: “Happy Birthday, Dad.” “Why aren’t you eating the cake? Were you waiting for us to eat it together?” Ava forced a smile, and she and Leo lit the candles and sang “Happy Birthday” to me. But all I felt was a surge of irritation. I waved my hand. “I don’t have an appetite. You two eat it.” Ava’s face immediately fell. “I know you’re still mad about Ryan, but can’t you try to understand him? He has no family here. He had a rough day at work today, so Leo and I just went to comfort him. It was nothing more than that, don’t overthink it.” Leo chimed in, “Yeah, Dad, Uncle Ryan has it tough. Can’t you be a little more understanding?” Watching the two of them tag-team me, my heart felt colder than a frozen wasteland. It was my birthday, and they had abandoned me for an outsider. Every time I got upset or lashed out because they ignored me for Ryan, they would use the same excuse. It always made me feel like the unreasonable villain. Every time, they’d leave me silently crying in the dead of night, only to smooth things over the next morning with a kind word or a small gift. They’d sweet-talk me, and I’d eagerly go back to being their loyal housekeeper. This time, they clearly thought they could manipulate me the same way. But I was tired of these obedience tests. “Right, right, you’re absolutely right. You go spend time with him. I’ll just celebrate my birthday with my buddies.” With that, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. They clearly hadn’t expected this attitude from me; they were frozen, unable to speak for a long moment. Seeing that I was actually going to leave, Ava rushed over and grabbed my arm. “You’re forty years old. Can you stop throwing tantrums? My company is so busy, and Leo is swamped with school. We have to make time to appease you, and it’s exhausting, okay?” Exhausting? I looked at them, my gaze cold. They didn’t feel exhausted making Ryan the latest robot. They didn’t feel exhausted baking him a cake the size of a mixing bowl. Yet for me, it was just an outdated home assistant robot and a small cake made from scraps, and suddenly they were “exhausted”? “You’re overthinking it. I’m not angry. I just want to celebrate my birthday with my friends. It’s been years since I’ve celebrated with them.” “Dad! Haven’t you had enough?!” Leo suddenly exploded, knocking the cake off the table. The candles nearly set the tablecloth on fire. He’d been under a lot of pressure from school lately and was always emotionally volatile. Usually, when he acted out, I’d patiently try to calm him down. But this time, I didn’t move. Seeing that I wasn’t coming to comfort him, Leo’s anger intensified. He started hitting and smashing the furniture. “What do you want to finally leave Mom and me alone? Haven’t you been emotionally controlling us enough all these years? Are you going to keep pushing until we both go crazy?!” Watching Leo’s hysterical outburst, a wave of sadness washed over me. All these years, I’d worked tirelessly, pouring my heart out for Ava and Leo. Yet, on my fortieth birthday, all I wanted was a little favoritism from them, and I was branded a control freak. How pathetic had my life become? I gave a self-deprecating laugh, then saw Ava comforting Leo, her face stern as she chastised me. “Look what you’ve done to Leo! Do you even deserve to be a father? If you really can’t stand it anymore, then let’s get a divorce.” Every time I lost my temper, Ava would coldly say those words. And every time, fear would make me back down. Only this time, I didn’t care anymore. They might love me, but they loved Ryan more. And I, too, should try to love them less. “Fine.” With that, I ignored their stunned faces and walked straight out the door.

It was late, but when I called my buddies, they still eagerly came out. We grabbed some beers and late-night street food, and they grumbled that ever since I got married, I’d been so wrapped up in my wife and kid that I’d practically forgotten them. The alcohol dulled my brain, and the days of chatting with my friends in the college dorm felt like yesterday. Thinking back, I’d given up so much for Ava and Leo. It really wasn’t worth it. After saying goodbye to my friends, I checked my phone. There were countless missed calls and messages. I was about to dismiss them, but among Ava’s many messages, I saw one from Ryan. “I’m so sorry, Liam. Ava and I really don’t have that kind of relationship. I was just feeling down yesterday and wanted Ava and Leo to cheer me up. I completely forgot it was your birthday. I’m truly sorry!” I’d had too much to drink. Maybe it was that text that disgusted me, because I stumbled to the roadside and started violently throwing up. After a while, I replied, “It’s fine. I don’t care.” It showed ‘typing,’ but no new message appeared for a long time, so I headed home. The house was a mess, even worse than when I’d left. I pretended not to notice and was about to go into the bathroom to wash up when Ava walked out. Seeing me reeking of alcohol, she frowned. “Finally decided to come back? Why did you drink so much? Clean this up, then go shower and sleep.” “Whoever made the mess should clean it up.” I collapsed onto the sofa, feeling drowsy. Suddenly, something poked my butt. It was Ava’s phone, unlocked, displaying her chat history with Ryan. “Ava, you and Leo spending time with me upset Liam. It’s all my fault for being so thoughtless. Maybe we should see each other less from now on.” “Don’t say that. He’s just narrow-minded and can’t stand it. Birthdays come every year; we can always celebrate it again later, right? Who knew he’d throw such a fit? He’s just getting worse with age.” “Ava, don’t talk like that. Liam has every right to be angry. Don’t let it bother you too much; you’ll make yourself sick.” “Hmm, thanks for your concern. If only Liam were half as understanding as you.” Ava rushed over and snatched the phone back, yelling furiously, “Why do you always snoop through other people’s privacy? I told you, there’s nothing going on between us!” “Whatever. I’m going to rest.” My demeanor left her speechless. She opened her mouth as if to say something but held back. Suddenly, she remembered the robot she’d given me and exclaimed, “Perfect! This guy can come in handy. Let me show you how to use it.” Hearing that, I opened my eyes and stared at Ava coldly. She prattled on, introducing how to turn the robot on and off, completely oblivious to the shift in my gaze. “Ava, have you forgotten? This model of robot? I was part of its development team.” That sentence froze Ava in her tracks. Then, she glanced at the model number on the robot’s back and gave me an awkward smile. “Oh, right. Well, then I don’t need to teach you. That’s good.” Ava and I had both been R&D staff at the same tech company. But no one could help us with childcare, so I quit my job to stay home and raise Leo. Now, I regretted every single thing I’d given up for my family. We sat in silence, the only sound in the room the whirring of the robot vacuum. “You should go to bed. I’ll just sleep on the couch.” With that, I closed my eyes. “Oh, I’m working late tomorrow night, so I won’t be back…” “Got it,” I replied, a hint of impatience in my voice.

Ava hesitated for a moment, then returned to the bedroom. I didn’t sleep long before I was awakened by a shove. Opening my eyes, I saw Leo already dressed in his school uniform, standing in front of me with an unhappy expression. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I’m going to be late! And breakfast? You didn’t make that either?” Every day, I’d wake Leo up on time, prepare a hearty, warm breakfast for him, sacrificing my own sleep. Because of the lack of sleep, I had heavy dark circles under my eyes, and my skin was sallow and dull. At forty, I looked fifty. “From now on, you’ll set your own alarm. And you can grab breakfast outside. Do you have money? I can transfer some.” Leo’s eyes widened. He clearly hadn’t expected his formerly devoted father to become this “irresponsible.” “I don’t need your money. Uncle Ryan wouldn’t be as lazy as you…” He mumbled the last part, but I heard it. Yet, my heart didn’t stir an inch. Leo stormed out, slamming the door. A small toy fell from the shoe cabinet in the entryway. I walked over and picked it up. It was a toy car, one I’d customized. It could transform into a robot and play various cartoon theme songs. Leo had been sickly after he was born, always gloomy when he was ill. But when he saw this little car, he’d giggle with delight. Seeing his happy face, I’d submitted a proposal to my company: to produce more toy robots that could provide emotional value. However, Ava had opposed the idea. She believed robots should serve humans with practical functions, not be mere “vases” that just transformed or played songs. Later, the proposal was shelved. My Leo also grew older, and he’d long since disdained this childish toy. I picked up the robot and pressed the button. It still worked perfectly. A thought suddenly struck me, and I took it over to the neighbor’s child. The child’s nickname was Finn. His parents were divorced and had left him with his grandmother. He had no friends and always played silently by himself in the sandbox downstairs. When he received the little toy, he examined it from all angles, his small face beaming with joy, playing with it enthusiastically. Seeing him like this, I couldn’t help but think of Leo when he was small, and that proposal from years ago. Almost instinctively, I picked up my phone and called my old boss. Realizing what I was doing, I tried to hang up, but he’d already answered. “Liam? Why the sudden call?” “Ah? Nothing… just wondering, are you still hiring?” I nervously rubbed my nose. A stay-at-home dad who had been out of the workforce for nearly a decade trying to return to a high-tech industry was surely a pipe dream. But to my surprise, Mr. Harrison was delighted. “Really? It’s wonderful that you’ve changed your mind. My new company needs exactly your kind of talent. However, you’ve been out of the industry for a long time, so you’d have to start from the ground up.” “I can do it! I’ll prove my worth!” Hanging up the phone, I was so happy I almost jumped. I played with Finn until evening. “Uncle Liam, you’re so nice. I wish you were my dad.” Finn blinked at me, his eyes full of longing. I didn’t know what to say, so I just stroked his head. Just then, the front door was kicked open, and a drunken man stumbled in. “Who are you? Where’s my mom?” The man had barely finished speaking when Finn’s grandmother rushed out, shouting warily at him: “What are you doing back? I’m not giving you another dime!” “Damn it! You’re my mother! Whose money do you think it is if not mine? If you don’t hand it over, I swear I’ll make this little brat regret ever being born!” With that, the man pulled out a knife and lunged at Finn. In that split second, I could only throw myself in front of Finn, taking the blade for him. Instantly, blood streamed onto the floor.

The man was restrained by neighbors, and I was rushed into an ambulance. The knife had carved a huge gash in my shoulder, and the pain made me break out in a cold sweat. It all happened so suddenly that I was still trembling, submerged in fear. At that moment, I desperately needed some comfort, even just a little. So, I called Ava. “Ava, I’m at the hospital. Please come quickly.” “What happened? I’m working late right now.” Ava’s tone was clearly impatient, and her background noise was too loud, sounding more like a restaurant than an office. “I was stabbed. I’m covered in blood, and it hurts so much. Please come.” Hearing Ava’s voice, tears suddenly streamed down my face, pouring out all the grievances I’d suffered. But in the next second, Ava’s words plunged me into an abyss. “Liam, can you stop joking around? You’re perfectly fine at home, how could someone suddenly stab you? You’re forty years old; can you stop being so childish?” “I’m not joking! I really was stabbed, and I’m at the hospital right now!” My voice became rushed and agitated, my volume significantly higher. But to Ava, I sounded just like my old “unreasonable” self. “I know you’re still mad about us not spending your birthday with you, but you don’t have to make up such a lie, do you? I’ve been really tired lately. If you keep this up, we might really have to get a divorce.” “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything. I still have to work. You get some rest.” With that, Ava hung up. I stood there frozen for a moment, then called Leo. “Leo, Dad’s at the hospital. Can you…” Before I could finish, Leo’s impatient voice cut me off. “Oh, great. Mom said you lied about being stabbed, and I didn’t believe it, but I guess you really can pull off such a crazy lie. Dad, please just leave us alone, okay?” “What do you mean? You’re with your mom? Isn’t she supposed to be working late?” Before I could ask more, Leo hung up. At that moment, I felt as helpless as a leaf adrift in a vast ocean. Suddenly, something clicked. I frantically opened Ryan’s Ins profile. Sure enough, he’d posted a video. He was smiling at the camera, with a luxuriously decorated upscale restaurant in the background. The caption read: “Striving alone in a strange city, glad to have you all by my side.” I knew that upscale restaurant well; it was where Ava and I had our first date. But after we got married, whenever I wanted to revisit it, Ava would always refuse, citing the high prices. In the video, although only Ryan was visible, I still heard Leo’s voice. It was a fleeting sound, but I heard it clearly. I couldn’t possibly mishear it, because it was a word I knew all too well: “Dad.” My phone slipped from my grasp. Ava, with whom I had shared thick and thin, and Leo, whom I had painstakingly raised, had now given their devotion to someone else. Though I tried not to care, the pain in my heart was uncontrollable. My breath hitched. “Uncle, aren’t Auntie and Leo coming?” Finn, who had been quietly watching over me, asked cautiously. “No, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Will you stay by my side?” I gently stroked his head and asked. He nodded like a woodpecker, eagerly promising: “I will! I’m just afraid you’ll blame me since it was my dad who did it.” His little head slowly drooped, and I felt a pang of sympathy. “No, it’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong, and neither did I.” I hugged him, both of us seeking comfort in each other. Years of love couldn’t be completely severed in this moment. But from now on, they would no longer be my top priority. There were more people and more things in the world worth loving.

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For three years, my husband Julian Blackwood pretended to be paralyzed, confined to a wheelchair. The night the cruise ship caught fire, a burning beam fell and shattered my leg. I screamed his name, my voice breaking, begging for help. He sat in his wheelchair, watching me with cold eyes. “Too far. I can’t reach you. Crawl.” But the very next moment, Seraphina, his true love, fell into the water. Julian sprang to his feet. He dashed to the edge of the deck and plunged headfirst into the dark sea. Because of him, my leg was left mangled by fire. Because of him, my brain was deprived of oxygen, its growth halted at the age of six. Three years later, Julian searched for me like a madman. He found me on the street, a beggar now. He fell to his knees, his eyes burning a desperate red. “To avoid me, you’d sink to this? Was it worth it?” I tilted my head, studying the strange man. Then I pulled the last piece of candy from my pocket and held it out to him. “Your legs aren’t broken. Why are you kneeling like me? I only have one left. Here, you can have it.”

Julian didn’t take my candy. “Elara, how long are you going to keep this up?” His voice was too loud, too sharp. I flinched and hugged my cracked bowl tighter against my chest. Inside were three dollars-my dinner money. No one could have it. My silence only made Julian angrier. He grabbed my arm, his grip rough. “Ow! Bad man! Don’t hurt Elara!” I cried out in pain, but my other hand still clutched the candy tightly. Caleb had given it to me this morning as a reward for not wetting my pants yesterday. “Playing crazy, are we? Pathetic!” Julian scoffed, his gaze falling on my tightly clenched fist. He probably thought I was hiding something valuable. He forced my fingers open. In my palm lay a slightly melted, dust-covered fruit hard candy. Julian froze for a moment, then a wave of immense disgust surged in his eyes. “All this… for this?” He snatched the candy, slammed it to the ground, and crushed it twice with his gleaming leather shoe. “No!” I screamed. That was my candy. I don’t know where the strength came from, but I broke free from his grip and flopped onto the ground. Desperately, I tried to pick the crushed sugar crystals embedded in the pavement. So dirty. But so sweet. I shoved the candy bits, mixed with dirt and shoe prints, into my mouth, tears and snot smearing my face. “Sweet… it’s sweet…” People had stopped to stare. Some were filming on their phones. My display seemed to enrage Julian even more. He grabbed me by the collar and lifted me like a stray kitten. “Elara! Have you no shame?” I didn’t answer him. I just cried, my eyes fixed on the crushed stain on the pavement. “Give it back… you owe me my candy…” Julian gritted his teeth, threw me over his shoulder, and shoved me into the black luxury car idling at the curb. I beat my fists against the window, watching my cracked bowl sitting alone on the sidewalk. “My money! My money!” “My brother will be hungry!” Julian locked the car doors and ordered the driver to leave. He turned, staring at me with an gaze full of pure hatred. “Good, let that stray starve to death.” “Elara, since you love acting so much, I’m taking you back to the place you most wanted to escape, so you can perform to your heart’s content.”

The car pulled up to a massive house. It looked somewhat familiar, but I dared not acknowledge it. The walls here were too white, like a hospital. The lights here were too bright, like fire. Servants stood at the door, covering their noses at the sight of my grimy state. Julian threw me onto the living room carpet. “Clean her up. Don’t let her soil my carpet.” A few maids approached, roughly dragging me into the bathroom. The faucet hissed open. Scalding hot water sprayed out, steaming. “Ah!” I shrieked, shrinking into a corner. “Fire! It’s fire! Don’t burn me!” The hot water pouring over me felt just like the searing flames on the cruise ship that night. I clutched my head, trembling all over, my teeth chattering. The maids impatiently held me down. “Ma’am, stop pretending. It’s just water.” I struggled with all my might, my nails scratching one maid’s arm. “Slap!” The maid slapped me backhand. “Crazy lunatic!” When Julian burst in, I was huddled in the corner of the bathtub, like a drowned rat. My clothes had been ripped off. The vast, grotesque patch of burn scars on my back, twisting like tree roots, was exposed to the air. Julian’s pupils contracted sharply. He seemed to want to reach out and touch the scars, but his hand stopped halfway. “You really went all out for this act, didn’t you?” He gritted his teeth, his voice a mix of sarcasm and something else I couldn’t decipher. “Julian?” A sweet, delicate voice drifted from the doorway. Seraphina walked in, wearing a white ballet dress. She was so clean, like a white swan. And I, I was a rat in the gutter. Seraphina saw the scars on my back; a flicker of disgust crossed her eyes, but she quickly replaced it with an expression of concern. “Elara, what happened to you? Julian is doing this for your own good, how could you scratch the maid?” I caught a whiff of her perfume. I sneezed, pointing at her. “You smell bad.” Seraphina’s face stiffened, her smile almost faltering. Julian immediately shielded Seraphina behind him, looking at me with cold fury. “Elara, apologize to Seraphina!” I didn’t understand. She was the one who smelled bad, why did I have to apologize? I stubbornly pressed my lips together, saying nothing. Julian lost his patience. He turned to a cabinet and pulled out a red box. Inside, nestled perfectly, was a pair of red ballet shoes. Three years ago, they were my most treasured possession. But now, seeing them, I only felt the aching in my legs. My broken leg bones throbbed faintly. “Didn’t you love to dance?” Julian tossed the ballet shoes in front of me. “Put them on. Dance for me.” “I won’t dance…” I shook my head frantically, shrinking backward. “My legs hurt… fire… don’t burn me…” He thought I was protesting this way. “You won’t dance?” He scoffed, picked up the shoes, and strode to the fireplace. A fire crackled within the hearth. “If you won’t dance, then you’ll never dance again!” He let go, and the ballet shoes tumbled into the flames. The fire instantly consumed the red satin. “No!” I stared at the inferno, and something snapped in my mind. The fire. The cruise ship. My broken leg. I lost control of my bladder on the spot. A warm, yellow liquid streamed down my thighs, filling the air with a pungent, sour smell. Seraphina gasped, covering her nose and recoiling into Julian’s embrace. Julian looked at the puddle on the floor, his face turning ashen. He finally realized. The proud Elara Vance, once radiant like a peacock. She was truly shattered.

Julian locked me in the room, forbidding me from leaving. But I was hungry, my stomach rumbling loudly. I missed the hotdogs Caleb used to buy me. That night, the mansion buzzed with activity. Julian was hosting a family dinner. A servant led me downstairs, pressing me into a chair at the dining table. The table overflowed with delicious food, but I dared not touch it. Julian sat at the head of the table, Seraphina beside him, acting like the lady of the house. “Eat.” Julian watched me coldly. “Aren’t you hungry?” I stared at the steak in front of me. It was raw, with streaks of blood. I was terrified of blood. I shook my head, my eyes fixed on a small cake in front of Seraphina. It was strawberry-flavored, surely sweet. Seraphina noticed my gaze. She smiled, pushing the cake toward me. “Elara, if you want it, just eat it. Don’t be shy.” I swallowed, cautiously reaching out. The instant my finger touched the plate, a sharp pain shot through my inner thigh. Seraphina’s hand, hidden beneath the tablecloth, had mercilessly pinched me. She put all her strength into it. “Ah!” I cried out, my hand trembling. The plate flipped, sending the cake crashing onto Seraphina’s white dress. Cream smeared all over her. “Oh! My dress!” Seraphina shrieked, tears instantly welling up. “Elara, if you didn’t want to eat it, why did you throw it at me?” “This was a limited edition Julian bought for me!” Julian slammed his hand on the table, springing to his feet. “Elara!” He glared at me. “Is your jealousy so strong that you can’t even stand a single dress?” I cowered, scrambling under the table. Hugging my head, trembling uncontrollably. “I didn’t… she pinched me… it hurt…” Julian didn’t believe a word. “Get out from under there!” he roared. “Pick up the cake from the floor and eat it!” I didn’t want to come out, but I was afraid of being hit. I crawled out, knelt on the floor, and reached for the cake mixed with cream. Seraphina, next to me, pretended to wipe her dress. Her high heel discreetly crushed a glass that had fallen to the floor. Fragments of glass mingled with the cream. I didn’t understand. I just knew I had to obey to get food. I grabbed a handful of cake, and the sharp glass shards immediately pierced my palm. Blood streamed out. “Wah!” I cried loudly in pain, holding up my bleeding hand for Julian to see. “It hurts… it’s bleeding…” Blood dripped onto the carpet, a shocking sight. Julian looked at the blood, his heart suddenly trembling. He instinctively started to stand up, but Seraphina suddenly clutched her chest and collapsed into his arms. “Julian, my chest feels so tight… I must have been so upset…” Julian’s movement halted. He looked at Seraphina, then back at my bloodied hand. Finally, he turned his head, hardening his heart. “Take her away.” “No bandages, no food.” “Let her learn her lesson.”

The basement was pitch black. No windows, just the squeaking of rats. I huddled in the corner, licking the wound on my hand. The blood had dried, sticky and crusty. I was so hungry. I missed Caleb so much. Suddenly, there was a huge crash outside the door. Bang! The iron door rattled violently, kicked repeatedly. Then came the shouts of bodyguards and sounds of a struggle. “Get out of the way! Let me in!” That voice… it was Caleb! I snapped my head up, my eyes suddenly alight. “Caleb!” I stumbled toward the door. The door burst open. Caleb rushed in, an iron pipe, smeared with blood, in his hand. He was covered in injuries, his clothes torn, but his eyes shone with a frightening intensity. “Elara!” He saw my bloodied hands, and his eyes instantly reddened. “You animals!” He threw down the pipe and rushed over to embrace me. “Don’t be scared, Elara. Caleb’s taking you away.” His embrace was warm, carrying the faint scent of the streets, but it was the safest smell in the world. But we couldn’t leave. Julian, with even more bodyguards, blocked the doorway. He stood there in his bathrobe, looking down at us. “So this is your little stray?” Julian’s gaze fell on Caleb’s hand wrapped around mine, his eyes filled with murderous intent. “A garbage picker?” Caleb subtly shielded me behind him. “Julian, are you even human? She has the mind of a six-year-old! You’re abusing a child!” Julian scoffed. “A child? She’s a better actress than anyone.” He waved his hand, and the bodyguards swarmed us. Soon, Caleb was pinned to the ground. Julian walked over, placing his foot on Caleb’s hand. “Ah!” Caleb grunted in pain but clenched his jaw, refusing to beg for mercy. “Since this hand dared to touch my woman, then let’s break it.” Julian took a baseball bat handed to him by a bodyguard. He raised it high. “No!” I rushed forward like a madwoman. I pushed Julian away, shielding Caleb with my scarred body. “Don’t hit Caleb! Caleb gives Elara candy! You’re a bad man!” Julian watched me protect another man like a fiercely protective mother bear. Jealousy distorted his face beyond recognition. “Fine, very fine.” He tossed the baseball bat to a bodyguard. “Since you love him so much, then I’ll break his fingers one by one, right in front of you.” The bodyguard raised the bat. Caleb struggled desperately. “Elara, run! Don’t worry about me!” I stared at that bat. I knew it would be very, very painful. I couldn’t let Caleb feel that pain. My gaze fell on a kitchen knife on the coffee table. That kind lady once said that if you do something wrong, you have to pay compensation. Since he wanted a hand, I’d give him one. I grabbed the kitchen knife. Without a moment’s hesitation, I slashed at my left pinky finger. “Splat-” “No!” Caleb and Julian roared at the same instant. Blood sprayed. The pain was so violent my vision whited out, yet I smiled. I picked up my severed little finger, hand shaking, and held it out to Julian. “I’ll pay you back…See? I’ll pay with my finger…Now let Caleb go. Please.” Julian stared at the finger, his entire body frozen. His face was paler than mine. Before the pain dragged me under, my hand was still curled tight in Caleb’s shirt. “Caleb… no pain…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “318042”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

Seven years after my wealthy birth family took me back, the “imposter” daughter had become the victim, and I, the true heir, the family’s punching bag. My brother Justin threw me to the homeless. My fiancé Lucas abandoned me. My parents forced me to take the blame for their crimes. Slandered and abused, I fell from the fiftieth floor. I survived. Now, as they drown in regret, desperate to atone, I hold the evidence. I swore all of them would pay. … 1 Sylvia’s POV Seven years after returning to this elite family, I was still the unwanted stand-in. Emily, chasing fast cash, had been working tables at a high-end club. She was drugged, assaulted, and brought to the E.R. with severe internal bleeding. The red glare of the emergency sign burned my eyes. Sarah, sobbed into my father George’s arms, cursing me. “Emily has suffered for seven years! Why can’t you just leave her be?” Every wail was an indictment of my existence. Justin, eyes bloodshot like a cornered animal, dragged me from the hospital by my hair. “Sylvia, every bit of Emily’s pain is on you. You hear me?” He threw me into the stinking homeless encampment under the bridge. To the filthy, unkempt men gathered there, he tossed a single, casual line. “Tonight, she’s all yours.” In utter despair, I saw Lucas, my fiancé. Like clutching at a final lifeline, I lunged and seized his pant leg. He recoiled sharply, as if from something vile, and kicked my hand away in disgust. Then I understood. In this charade of substitution, I had lost everything. So I let myself fall into the darkness, a hoarse laugh tearing from my throat. “If my return was a mistake, then let the real her have it all back…” By dawn, the men had scattered. My skin was a map of bruises and cuts. My clothes hung in shreds, barely covering me. The walk home was a gauntlet of stares, each one a needle against my skin. I pushed open the front door. The living room was thick with the cloying smell of honey. My mother, Sarah, was spooning warm honey water into Emily’s mouth, her movements delicate, as if handling a cracked piece of porcelain. Emily shrank in her arms like a startled rabbit. “Sylvia, I’ll leave right away… please don’t be angry…” Mom couldn’t bear it. Tears of profound hurt welled in her eyes. She turned to me, her face a mask of heartbreak and accusation. “Why must you torment your sister?” “Have you done enough!?” My father George’s face darkened instantly. “Your sister was fighting for her life, and you were out all night? Where exactly were you?” 2 Sylvia’s POV “Look at you! A ghost! You look nothing like a Tristian! I’ve raised an ungrateful viper!” I stood frozen, my eyes burning. See? They only care that you were out all night. They never see the shame, the wounds, the filth. I was about to explain when Justin rose from the sofa and tossed a stack of photos onto the coffee table. They slapped down and scattered across the floor. He curled his lips, his smile never quite reaching his eyes, replaced instead by a chilling, cutting disdain. “You want to know where she was? Take a look.” The scattered photos showed me in my violated state from last night. Each picture showed a different man on top of me. Sarah gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as if she were seeing me, her daughter, for the very first time. George stared at the photos, his eyes brimming with fury. He abruptly snatched a blue-and-white antique vase from the table and, without hesitation, hurled it at me. The vase sliced through the air with a sharp whistle, carrying with it his extreme roar of rage. “You shameless wretch!” A loud crash. The vase shattered against my forehead, ceramic shards slicing my scalp. What a pity. That was Mom’s favorite antique vase, I think. Warm blood quickly blurred my vision. “The dignity of the Tristian family, generations of it, shattered by a lowlife like you!” “We truly shouldn’t have brought you back. You should have died in a gutter!” I wiped the blood from my face. No pain, no grievance, only numbness remained. “Alright, I’ll do as you say.” “What did you say?” My father’s impending accusation suddenly stopped. I looked at him, repeating each word clearly. “I said, I’ll die.” “Let Emily come back.” My mother looked at me in disappointment, shaking her head, “Sylvia, how could you have become like this!?” My father gasped for air, sputtering several times, “You… you have the nerve.” 3 Sylvia’s POV Justin continued with his cruel remarks. “Good riddance, saves the Tristian family from having to dirty its ground. Who knows if you’ll actually do it.” Hearing my words, Emily’s eyes, deep within, held not a hint of fragility, but a smug satisfaction. She savored the sight of my entire family’s accusations, as if watching a thrilling play. I looked at Lucas. In the past, no matter how much Justin and my parents favored Emily, Lucas had always stood by me. But this time, he wouldn’t even look at me. “Don’t upset yourselves over this,” he said, his voice unnervingly calm. Then he delivered the final blow. “Sylvia has chosen to sink. No one can save her. For the future of both our families… I wish to end my engagement to Sylvia and marry Emily instead…” Those words were an ice dagger, plunging straight into my chest, the cold seeping through my veins, freezing me to my very bones. A bucket of ice water dumped over my head wouldn’t have left me feeling colder, more utterly frozen. George, heartily approved, nodding heavily. “Good! I’ll personally discuss it with your parents then.” Hearing Lucas propose to her, Emily couldn’t hide her joy, a flush of triumphant color bloomed on her cheeks. In that moment, I finally understood completely. In this family, I was their biological child, it was true. But my mistake was coming back. And my mistake was foolishly believing I could replace Emily’s unique place in their hearts. If her return was truly what they all longed for, then I would grant them their wish. I offered no more explanations, turning and walking towards the second floor. The moment I closed the door, I heard Justin still cursing me, calling me shameless. “Tch, a lowlife who’s been passed around by hobos, putting on airs of superiority!” Back in my room, I washed away the blood and grime. In the mirror, a broken body stared back. They were right, I thought. I deserved to die. So, I pulled out the old canvas bag I had brought with me seven years ago from under the bed. If I was going to die, I needed to leave cleanly. To leave no trace of myself in this house. I didn’t have many possessions; what I did have fit perfectly into the bag. Everything else, my parents had bought for me, tailored to Emily’s tastes. Emily loved pink Barbie style, so they decorated my princess room in that style, never once asking if I hated pink the most. Emily loved wearing dresses, so they bought me a closet full of princess gowns, never knowing I dreaded wearing them. Just thinking about dresses brought back the visceral fear of my stepfather’s hands, reaching beneath my skirt in my childhood. Just when I thought I had finally escaped hell, overjoyed to be welcomed home by my birth parents, I found a new nightmare awaited me. When my parents learned of my experiences at my adoptive parents’ house, they weren’t heartbroken, but disgusted. They felt I was dirty, unworthy of the Tristian name. To earn even a sliver of their affection, I forced myself to mimic Emily’s every move, her tone of voice, her walk, willingly becoming Emily’s shadow. But what did I get in return? My parents’ resentment: “You wicked girl, why won’t you leave your sister alone?” My brother Justin’s retaliation: “You tore our family apart, why did you ever come back!” My fiancé Lucas’s disdain: “Damaged goods, what right do you have to marry me?” I had lived as Emily’s shadow for seven years, eclipsed by her ‘halo.’ Starting today, I wouldn’t do it anymore. Their love, I no longer needed. … I walked downstairs with my bag, finding the living room filled with laughter and cheerful chatter. They were planning a grand welcome party for Emily. Emily cried, tears streaming as she buried her face in Mom and Dad’s arms. “Daddy, Mommy, I can finally come home!” Justin, his eyes red-rimmed, stroked her hair with a tenderness I had never seen directed at me. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here now. No one in this house will ever hurt you again.” Lucas gazed at Emily with profound affection, his voice soft, intimate. “Emily, I’ll protect you from now on.” Emily’s ears flushed scarlet at his words. Seeing this, Mom and Dad beamed with joyful smiles. Watching them so happy, I decided now wasn’t a good time to leave. Otherwise, I’d just ruin their mood again and get another scolding. So I turned to go back to my room. But Lucas, with his sharp eyes, spotted me. He instinctively frowned, his tone unfriendly. “Where are you going with that bag?” Everyone’s gaze snapped to me. I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I lied. “To throw out the trash.” Emily blinked at me with a sugary innocence. “Sylvia, won’t you come to my welcome party this weekend? You’re important, after all.” Before she finished speaking, Justin’s harsh words slammed into me. “Hmph, touched by that filth under the bridge, and you think you’re fit for Emily’s welcome party? Don’t you dare bring that stench near her.” He paused, as if recalling something darkly amusing, then added. “Come to think of it, Sylvia…weren’t you going to kill yourself? Why the delay? Fishing for sympathy again?” 4 Sylvia’s POV I lifted my head, my gaze slowly sweeping across everyone in the living room. My father George wore a look of impatience, my mother Sarah’s eyes were filled with annoyance, my brother Justin was gleeful, and Lucas was cold and detached. And Emily, cowering in Mom’s arms, her eyes holding a hidden excitement and anticipation. They were all waiting for me to cry, to make a scene, to kneel and beg for mercy. But I was tired of acting. I forced a smile, which, combined with my scarred face, must have looked terrible. “You’re right.” My voice was soft, yet steady. “I shouldn’t delay any longer.” With that, I didn’t return to my room. Instead, I walked directly towards the elevator leading to the rooftop. My uncharacteristic calm evidently stunned them all. “You… what are you going to do?” Sarah’s voice, trembled slightly. I pressed the up button, and the elevator doors opened with a ‘ding.’ “Grant you your wish.” I stepped inside. They looked at each other, their expressions shifting from confusion to dawning realization. Just as the elevator doors were about to close, Justin jammed his foot in. “You want to die? I have to see it with my own eyes.” He sneered, a cruel smirk on his face. “Lest you put on another act and claim we forced you to do it.” Lucas followed him in, his face devoid of emotion. Then came my father George, leaning on his cane, and my mother Sarah, supported by Emily. The small space instantly became crowded, the air thick with Emily’s sickly sweet perfume and Justin’s cheap tobacco smoke, making me feel a wave of nausea. They were my family, yet at this moment, they were like a crowd of spectators eager for a show. Waiting to witness the final act of me, their superfluous daughter. The elevator was silent, save for the sound of Justin lighting a cigarette. He looked at me through the swirling smoke, his eyes contemptuous. “Jump cleanly. Don’t disgrace the Tristian family any further.” When the elevator doors opened, a cold wind howled, stinging my face. The rooftop was vast, and beneath us stretched the dazzling city lights. I walked past the expensive lounge chairs and potted plants, heading straight for the edge of the rooftop. The glass railing reached only to my waist; from fifty stories high, everything on the ground looked minuscule. I turned around, facing my “audience.” They clustered a short distance away, their clothes flapping loudly in the wind. “Seven years,” my voice was a little scattered by the wind, but I knew they could hear me. “I tried for seven years to be the daughter you wanted, the sister you wanted.” I looked at Mom and Dad: “I learned Emily’s preferences, wore pink which I hated, ate sweets I disliked. I thought if I was obedient enough, I could earn even a little of your love. I was wrong.” My gaze shifted to Justin, “You always said I stole your sister, that I tore your family apart. Now, I’m giving her back to you.” Then, Lucas. The man I once loved. “Lucas, congratulations. You finally have a legitimate reason to marry the woman you love. I won’t be in your way anymore.” Finally, my eyes rested on Emily. She flinched, shrinking back behind Mom. “You win,” I smiled, this time the smile was genuine, a release. “This family, these people, they’re all yours now. I hope you enjoy this grand gift I’ve given you.” My father George’s face turned scarlet with rage. “You ungrateful daughter! Are you threatening us?!” “No,” I shook my head, “I’m thanking you. Thanking you for utterly breaking my heart.” I paused, changing the subject, my voice not loud, but every word clear. “Oh, and I forgot to tell you. It was Justin who threw me into the homeless encampment last night. It was Emily who drugged my drink and set me up. And as for you,” I swept my gaze over everyone, “you are all accomplices.” The air instantly solidified. Emily’s face turned ashen white. “Sylvia, what nonsense are you spouting! I didn’t!” Justin’s cheek twitched. “You’re effing crazy! You’re slandering me!” I ignored their frantic denials. The seeds of doubt had been sown. I took a deep breath of the cold air, then easily swung myself over the railing. In that instant, everyone froze. My mother Sarah let out a piercing scream: “Sylvia! No!” My father George’s cane clattered to the ground. The cigarette fell from Justin’s lips. He lunged forward, his face a mask of shock and a hint of… fear? Even Lucas’s cold mask cracked. “Sylvia!” Too late. I looked back at them one last time. My eyes held no love, no hate, only a vast, hollow stillness. Then, I leaned back and plunged into the night. The fall wasn’t fear. It was a rush of pure, dizzying freedom. The wind howled in my ears, like a wild funeral march. This was definitely faster than the elevator. An ill-timed thought flashed through my mind. I closed my eyes. The past seven years-the begging, the despair-flickered through me like a sped-up reel, then slowly faded to black. Good. I wanted none of it anymore. The ground rushed closer. I braced myself. Not to meet death. But to be caught. With a muffled thud. My body landed on a giant cushioning object, rattling my bones and organs, but without the agonizing pain of shattered limbs. I lay in the darkness, gasping for air. Beneath me was a colossal safety air cushion, specially for the fire department, already prepared. It had been hidden in a construction blind spot on the side of the building, perfectly avoiding everyone’s gaze. The air cushion rapidly deflated, emitting a hissing sound. The door of a black SUV beside me slid open, and a young man in a black T-shirt jumped out, his eyes exceptionally calm. “Miss Sylvia,” his voice was steady, “are you alright?” I pushed myself up, my body aching. “I’m fine, Dorian.” He helped me up, swiftly moving away from the collapsing air cushion and into the car. The moment the car door closed, the outside world instantly fell silent. The car smoothly drove out of the alley, merging into the traffic, like a single drop of water vanishing into the ocean. Those on the rooftop would surely believe I had fallen onto the cold pavement, reduced to a blurry mess of flesh and blood. Dorian handed me a bottle of water and a first-aid kit. “Your new identity and phone are in the compartment; the safe house is ready.” “Thank you.” I took a large gulp of water, the burning sensation in my throat finally easing. I looked at my reflection in the car window-pale, disheveled, but my eyes were completely different from a few minutes ago. I leaned down and retrieved the worn canvas bag at my feet. Unzipped it, pushing aside the few old clothes. Beneath them lay a laptop and an encrypted hard drive. This was my real luggage. For seven years, I had lived as a ghost in that house. No one would guard against an unassuming presence. So I copied the illegal contracts from George’s unsecured computer. I recorded Justin, drunk, bragging about his underground racing and money laundering. And my “pure and kind” sister, Emily. I’d already looked into her so-called sugar daddy. I knew the truth about her “humiliation” at the club-it was a stunt she staged herself to frame me and lock in her victim status. The hard drive contained recordings, videos, transfer records, and chat screenshots. Enough to send the Tristian family and Lucas’s family straight to hell. They thought that destroying me would leave them free of worries. They were wrong. They wanted me dead. And indeed, I “died.” The meek, timid, love-starved Sylvia had died on that rooftop tonight. The one who remained was born for revenge. I closed my bag, the zipper’s ‘snick’ was like the sound of a bullet sliding into the chamber. “Dorian.” I spoke, my voice disturbingly calm. “Miss Sylvia, your orders.” “Begin.” 5 Sylvia’s POV The car pulled into a quiet old alley and stopped beneath an unassuming residential building. Dorian turned off the engine and handed me a key and an access card. “Miss Sylvia, this is it. Third floor, 301. The apartment is completely secure, food and water are stocked, and the internet is a private line.” I took the key, the cold metal feeling real in my palm. “Thank you for your trouble.” “I’m just doing my job,” Dorian said simply. “If you need anything, contact me on your new phone.” I nodded and opened the car door. The night air was damp, clinging to my skin. I looked up at the building; its exterior walls were mottled, moss clinging to the corners-the kind of ordinary building that wouldn’t draw a second glance if abandoned in a city corner. Perfect. I liked this kind of anonymity. Upstairs, I unlocked the door to 30

A faint scent of disinfectant mixed with the fresh smell of new sheets. The apartment wasn’t large, one bedroom and a living room, but it was spotlessly clean. The furniture was simple and practical: a bed, a desk, a wardrobe. No unnecessary decorations, none of the pink I detested, none of Emily’s imposed preferences. I dropped my old canvas bag on the floor and unzipped it. The laptop and hard drive lay quietly beneath a few old clothes. I didn’t touch them immediately. Instead, I walked into the bathroom. I turned on the shower, and hot water cascaded over me. I closed my eyes, letting the water wash over my body. The wound on my forehead stung as it met the hot water, making me flinch. I reached up and touched it. The congealed blood was washing away, and fresh blood began to seep out again. I looked at myself in the mirror, at the gash on my forehead from the vase. When my father George threw it, his eyes were filled with disgust and rage. He would probably never know that it wasn’t the first time he wanted me dead. Seven years ago, when the Tristian family first took me in, I was small and thin from years of hunger, my skin dull and dark-a living contrast to their gilded world. Once, he brought me to a business dinner. I didn’t know how to use a fork and knife. I mangled my steak, and the juice splattered onto a lady’s designer purse beside me. Her face tightened. My father apologized over and over. At home, he locked me in the basement. “How could I have a daughter so…unpresentable!” “You are simply a disgrace to our family!” His roar from the other side of the door was warped with rage. I starved for a day and a night in that cold, damp dark. Curled in the corner, I was sure I would die there. Then, Lucas came. He secretly brought me bread and milk. Through the door, his voice was as gentle as moonlight. “Sylvia, don’t be scared. You’re just not used to it yet. It’ll get better.” “I’ll always be here for you.” That sliver of kindness became the sole light I clung to for survival over the next seven years. Now, it was laughable. That light was merely scraps tossed to a beggar, yet I treated it as a feast. I turned off the water and toweled dry. The first-aid kit held antiseptic and bandages. I dressed the wound, clumsy but thorough. After all that, I felt alive again. I opened the wardrobe. Inside were a few new T-shirts and jeans, all simple, plain. I pulled one on, walked into the living room, took a bottle of water from the fridge, twisted the cap, and drank half of it down without stopping. The cold liquid slid down my throat and into my stomach, extinguishing the last bit of burning pain. Alright. Time for business. I placed the laptop on the table, plugged it in, and inserted the encrypted hard drive. Booting up, I entered a long, complex password. The screen lit up, its pale blue light washing over my face. Inside the hard drive, hundreds of files sat sorted into folders: George Tristian-Overseas Assets-Illegal Transfers Justin Tristian-Underground Racing-Gambling-Money Laundering Evidence Chain James’s Group-Project Bidding-Bribery Records Emily Tristian… My finger hovered over Emily’s folder. I clicked it open. Inside, there was a single video file. The footage was shaky, clearly shot in secret. In the clip, Emily was sitting with a greasy middle-aged man, giggling coquettishly. “Mr. Tyler, I’m really counting on you for this one,” Emily said sweetly, pushing a glass of wine towards the man. The man’s hand went straight to her thigh, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’s just about ruining your sister, right? Easy. I’ve prepared the drugs; she’ll have a great ‘time’ with all those men.” Emily showed not the slightest reluctance; instead, she smiled even sweeter. “Mr. Tyler, you’re so good. After this is done, I’ll be sure to reward you properly.” “How will you reward me?” “What do you think?” She winked, her finger tracing circles on the man’s chest. The video ended there. I had bought this from one of Mr. Tyler’s henchmen. Emily probably never dreamed that the pawn she’d used to scheme against me had betrayed her for a price. I closed the video, my face devoid of emotion. They all thought I was a docile lamb, but they didn’t know that a lamb, pushed to its limits, could become a biting wolf. For seven years, while playing the part of their “Sylvia,” I’d been gathering evidence in the shadows. Every one of them had a lever I could pull. Now it was time for them to learn how it felt-to fall from the clouds and land in the dirt. I didn’t start with Emily. That fruit, I’d save for last. It would taste sweetest once she’d climbed to her peak. My eyes settled on Justin’s folder. My dear, hot-headed, oblivious brother. He’d be the perfect gauge for the Tristian family’s reaction. From the pile of recordings and footage, I chose the shortest clip. It happened six months ago. Justin had been out partying, drank himself blind, and got dragged home by his friends. As I brought him water, he was on his group chat, bragging to his usual crowd. “That Sylvia…she’s bad luck. If it wasn’t for her, my sister wouldn’t be suffering. I’ve wanted to get rid of her for ages.” “Last time, under the bridge…those homeless guys were useless. Should’ve filmed it and leaked it. Would’ve ruined her for good.” On the recording, his voice was slurred, but every word dripped with hate. I edited the audio, cutting out his friends’ voices until only his drunken monologue remained. Then, I hacked into the city’s most exclusive supercar club’s group chat. Justin was a member-one of the loudest ones. What he cared about most was his rep-his standing with the crew. I created a burner account and dropped the recording like a piece of hot gossip. “You won’t believe this. Tristan Group’s golden boy, drunk off his ass, confessing to everything he did to his own sister.” Having done all that, I closed my laptop. The clock read three in the morning. The grand rooftop finale must have reached the police by now. I turned on the TV to the local news channel. A breaking news banner scrolled across the bottom of the screen: “BREAKING: Sylvia Tristian, daughter of Tristian Group’s chairman, fell to her death early this morning from the 50th floor of Hua Ding Tower. Police are investigating.” Fell to her death. Four words. They wrote the final period on my twenty-four years. I watched, a faint smile on my lips. No need to rush. The real show was just beginning.

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The year I turned seven, my dad died in a car accident. My mom married her first love, and I became an orphan in my own home. At our first dinner together, my stepfather, Richard, laid down the new rule. “From tonight on,” he said, “everything in this house is fifty-fifty.” I had one spare rib. Then he looked at me, all of seven years old, and told me I owed him three hundred dollars for the meal. I glanced at my stepsister, Tiffany, who was happily gnawing on her ribs. “Tiffany ate ribs too. Why doesn’t she have to pay?” “Because Tiffany is my own flesh and blood,” Richard stated, his voice calm. “I love her. She has the privilege of being my real daughter.” My eyes flicked to my mother. He went on without missing a beat. “Your mother is my wife. I love her, so she also enjoys certain privileges.” “You share no blood with me. We have no bond. I have no obligation to feed you.” To enforce Richard’s family ‘go Dutch’ system, everything in the house was tagged with a price. A price list was taped to the refrigerator door. Apples: $1.00 each. Milk: $2.00 per carton. Leftovers: $0.50 per serving. … My mom and Tiffany had special privileges. They could open the fridge whenever they wanted. I wanted to open the fridge, but I had no money to pay. Richard’s voice was cold. “No money, and you still expect to eat?” I stood there,mute. He pretended to relent. “Fine. We’ll put it on your account for now. Then you and Eleanor will sign a personal loan agreement.” “Interest will be charged at a high-risk rate-one-tenth of a percent per day, compounded until you turn eighteen. Once you’re an adult with an income, you’ll repay every cent.” So I was billed for every watt of electricity, every grain of rice. Even for the vacations Richard and Mom took Tiffany on… Because of that family ‘go Dutch’ system, I owed over six hundred thousand dollars I’d even grown up. To keep the debt from skyrocketing, I lived simply. I even picked through the trash for Tiffany’s old clothes and shoes. Sometimes, I resorted to begging for food on the streets. One winter, the flu was rampant. I came down with a fever. The thermometer read almost 104 degrees Fahrenheit. I was burning up, feeling like a literal lump of coal. Of course, the first thing Richard and Mom did was pull out their ledger. After furiously calculating with a calculator, they printed out a new loan contract. “Chloe, you can go to the hospital. But you need to understand that medical expenses are a bottomless pit. Registration, blood tests, IV drips-it would easily cost over a thousand dollars.” “Chloe, you and your parents agreed. Family expenses are split. Personal unexpected expenses, like Chloe getting sick with a fever, are self-pay.” But I couldn’t afford to pay for myself. So, I signed another loan agreement with Richard and Mom. … Richard and Mom didn’t take me to the hospital in the end. Going to the ER was too expensive, Richard said. A waste of resources. He drove to the local drugstore and bought a box of fever reducers and some cheap anti-inflammatories. Total cost: fifteen dollars. Richard walked into my room with the pills, Mom hovering behind him. “Chloe, even though you’re not my blood, that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I fronted the cash for this. Plus a five-dollar ‘service fee’ for my time. Total’s fifty.” He set the medicine on my nightstand. Then he held out a piece of paper and a pen. “Sign the loan agreement first. Once it’s signed, you can have the pills.” But I was burning up, my eyes too heavy to open. “Mom…” My voice was a ragged whisper. She turned her face away. “Just sign it, Chloe. Sign it and take the medicine. You’ll feel better.” I fought back the discomfort of the fever, my hand trembling. I scrawled my name illegibly on the loan agreement. But the second I finished signing, Tiffany’s voice rang out from outside the door. “Dad! Mom! I cut my finger! It hurts so much!” Mom sprang up like a coiled spring, rushing to Tiffany in the kitchen. Her voice was filled with frantic worry and tenderness. “What happened, my sweetie?” “Oh no, let Mom see! Is it bleeding? Richard, let’s go. Take our sweet baby to the hospital to get it bandaged, get her a tetanus shot! This kind of cut can be minor or serious, we can’t risk infection!” Listening to the sound of Richard hurriedly starting the car outside, I lay in bed, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t understand. Why was I burning up with a 104-degree fever, given only fifty dollars’ worth of pills, and forced to sign a loan to pay for them? While Tiffany,with just a shallow cut on her finger, got a free trip to the ER for a tetanus shot? Tiffany, the family favorite, saw the question in my eyes. She grinned. “Because I’m Dad’s real daughter. He loves me.” “And your mom loves my dad. So, by extension, she loves me the most!”

Because Tiffany was Richard’s real daughter, she received love from both of them. I was only Mom’s blood. So as I grew, what I accumulated wasn’t memories-it was debt, snowballing and cold. I had no time for friends at school. Even with the SATs looming, I spent every lunch break collecting cans, running errands for classmates, and doing homework for the failing kids behind the gym-five dollars per thousand words. But I never expected Tiffany and her friends to corner me against the brick wall while I was picking up plastic bottles. Tiffany pulled a folded paper from her uniform pocket. It was the loan agreement I’d signed for Richard two days earlier-the one for next month’s pads. “See? I told you. Every word’s true. Chloe has to borrow from my dad and sign an IOU just to buy pads.” “She’s already six hundred thousand in debt to our family-and she’s not even eighteen.” “A total money pit. Doesn’t earn a cent but spends like it’s nothing. Who knows what else she blows cash on?” “I’m serious. Hang around her, and your wallet might go missing.” Tiffany had been feeding me to her friends as gossip. Whispers circled around me. My face burned. With every secret laid bare, Tiffany made me want to vanish on the spot. My eyes burned. I reached for the IOU. But Tiffany held it higher. Later, she didn’t just show it around. She taped it to the school’s main bulletin board. “Let everyone see who our top student really is. What good are perfect grades? She’s six hundred thousand in debt already! Trash from the inside out.” That afternoon, I became the school’s joke. “Pad-borrower” became my name. My teacher called Tiffany and me into her office. She was a decent person. She scolded Tiffany firmly for the disrespect, then called our parents. Richard and Mom both came. Richard, in a crisp suit, looked every bit the polished gentleman. He apologized to the teacher the moment he entered. But when the teacher gently brought up “protecting a girl’s privacy” and “providing for her basic needs,” Richard adjusted his glasses and smiled. “I think you misunderstand, Miss. This is part of our family’s financial literacy curriculum. Chloe has always struggled with fiscal responsibility. The shared-cost system, the personal loan-it’s all designed to teach her self-reliance. To prepare her for the real world.” The teacher was left speechless. Outside the office, in a deserted corner of the hallway, Richard and Mom’s polite smiles dropped. Richard checked his phone. Mom understood immediately and turned on me. “Chloe, because of your little scene at school, Richard and I had to leave work. Richard bills at five hundred an hour. I bill at three hundred. Plus fifty for gas. That’s eight hundred fifty dollars you owe.” Mom scribbled the numbers down quickly. “This is on you. You’ve incurred an unnecessary time cost for both your father and me.” And so, my debt increased again. On the way home, Tiffany happily held Richard and Mom’s hands. Only I was left behind. Tiffany suddenly turned her head and stuck out her tongue at me, grinning.

That evening at dinner, Mom suddenly covered her mouth, then rushed to the bathroom. Richard froze. Then his eyes lit up, his forks clattering to the table. “Eleanor!” He rushed to the bathroom door, knocking. “What’s wrong? Could it be…” That guess was soon confirmed at the hospital. Mom, at forty-two, was pregnant. She was pregnant with Richard’s child. Mom stroked her belly, her face flushed with happiness. The arrival of their love child put Richard and Mom in high spirits. Richard looked at me. “To ensure our new family member has the best start, we need to reallocate our resources.” “So, Chloe, your room can be used as a nursery for your future brother.” My heart sank. “Then… where will I live?” Richard tapped the table, pointing to the balcony. “Eleanor and I discussed it. We’ll enclose that corner of the balcony and put a folding bed for you there.” The balcony? That was a place that leaked wind in winter and was exposed to the scorching sun in summer, without even a proper cover. When I started crying, Richard and Mom remained unyielding. Their words were full of demands for me to be understanding, their tone completely non-negotiable. “With a new family member coming, our household expenses need to tighten. Chloe, you’re almost graduating high school. You’re fully capable of working as an adult.” “After you graduate high school next year, forget about college. You’ll work to pay off your dad and me.” No! I had to go to school! My teachers said that an education was my only way out. I argued vehemently, but Mom angrily slapped me. Richard and Mom threw the black leather ledger and a stack of loan contracts with my signature on them in front of me. “Get this straight, you’re not Richard’s child. We, as a family, have no obligation to raise you until adulthood, especially after all these years of our AA system. Don’t you know how much debt you owe us? You’re already a massive liability, a total loss-making project!” I covered my swollen face, my gaze drifting to Mom, who was lost in the joy of her pregnancy. Mom. Did you forget? I might not be Richard’s child, But I’m your daughter. But Mom just looked down, stroking her pregnant belly, absorbed in the happiness of carrying Richard’s child. After a long silence, Mom, uncomfortable under my resentful gaze, finally looked up, as if having made a decision. “Chloe, don’t blame your dad and me. Raising a child costs too much. Your brother needs formula money and an education fund even before he’s born. You’re old enough now; you should be sensible and help out. Besides, you already owe us a huge amount of money…” My eyes welled up. I looked at Mom in disbelief. I finally understood. In this house, I was just a indebted outsider. Silently, I turned to pack my belongings.

Mom’s and Richard’s child hadn’t even been born yet. But to show just how much they treasured their “own flesh and blood,” they decided to prepare the nursery early. So, they moved me out to the balcony ahead of schedule. My first night out there, I fell ill again with fever. Even with the windows latched, the wind and rain found their way in from every crack. It was like sleeping in a damp, drafty icebox. Every night, I had to wrap myself in two blankets to sleep. One night, I woke up thirsty, wanting to get a glass of hot water from the living room. As I walked into the living room, I saw an unfinished box of cherries on the coffee table. They were large, deep purple, and exuded an inviting sweetness. Beside them was a note from Richard. “Honey, these organic cherries are for energy and glow, especially for our little one’s vitamins. They’re forty dollars a pound, so make sure no outsiders touch them.” That “outsider,” of course, referred to me. I looked at that box of cherries. A cold laugh echoed in my mind. Just then, a whisper came from the master bedroom. “Water… get me some water…” Richard was away on a business trip. Tiffany, as usual, was sleeping over at a friend’s. Neither of them was home tonight. I pushed open the door. Mom lay in bed, her face pale, her forehead shiny with cold sweat. The pregnancy was hard on her. Her legs had cramped in the dark, and she was both thirsty and in pain. When she saw me, she spoke as if it were her birthright. “Chloe, are you deaf? I’ve been calling you forever! Can’t you see I was suffering? Massage my legs. Now. The cramp hurts.” I stood silently by the bed. “Mom, it’s three in the morning.” I looked coldly at my weak mom. “This is off-duty. Night care service fees are doubled.” Mom’s eyes widened, as if she didn’t recognize me. “What are you talking about?” Because I had never defied Richard and Mom, and never used such a cold tone with them. In that moment, Mom found me utterly foreign. “Chloe, I’m your mother! And I’m carrying your sibling! All I’m asking is for you to rub my legs. How can you even say such things?” “Even mothers and daughters should keep accounts clear. You don’t get ‘motherly privilege’ from me. That’s exactly what you and Richard taught me.” I started calculating like they did-everything reduced to a number. Everything had a price. “Fetching water: ten dollars. A fifteen-minute leg massage: starts at fifty. Since it’s after hours, a thirty-dollar surcharge applies. That’s ninety dollars total.” Furious, Mom grabbed a pillow and hurled it at me. I sidestepped coldly. It thudded to the floor. “Of course, if you want me to pick that up, Mom, that’ll be an extra five.” I made another notation, my face blank. The obedient child was long gone. “Mom, you’re free to refuse. It’s your pain, after all. And it’s Richard’s child in your belly that will pay for it.” With that, I turned to leave. “Wait!” Mom shrieked, a hand flying to her stomach as if to shield the baby. Sweat beaded on her forehead from the pain. “Fine! Get the water! Massage my legs! Just…just put it on my account.” A cold smile touched my lips. “Sorry, Mom. You’ve quit your job. I can’t extend credit to someone with no income. My margins are too thin, and I don’t do charity. Payment first. Then I work.” Faced with my sudden change, Mom trembled with rage. But the agony in her legs was real. It forced her hand. I took the payment. Then, as agreed, I fetched the water. I walked over, pulled back the covers, and began to work on her calves. My heart was a still pond. Not a single ripple of feeling remained. From now on, in this house,  there was no mother. There was no daughter. There was only a client. And a service provider. I no longer craved the privileges Richard and Mom enjoyed. Since they had turned the balcony into my “room,” I started calculating-down to the last detail. I claimed exclusive rights to the space. No one could enter without my permission, and nothing of theirs could be stored there. Richard and Mom called me an ungrateful wretch. I didn’t care.

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On Christmas Eve, my wife Sarah, our five-year-old Lily, and I drove back to my hometown in Ohio. Lily, blonde and blue-eyed, chattered in her sweet voice all the way. She looked like a little angel come to life. My relatives crowded around her, cooing and playing, the firelight from the fireplace dancing on their smiling faces. It should have been a warm, joyful night. But as the red wine dwindled, my Aunt Carol suddenly gestured for me to follow her outside. In the storage room, crammed with Christmas gifts, she closed the door and made a request that instantly froze my blood. “Hand over Lily’s guardianship to my son.” I stared, certain I’d misheard. “What did you say? Is this a joke?” The request was impossible. It made no sense. “I had a psychic reading,”Carol said, her tone turning lofty. “Your next child will be a boy. Look, Jack needs a child, and Lily is perfect. Why not let her make him happy? You’ll have others.” “She is my daughter,” I said, my voice shaking with fury. “Not a gift to pass around. One more word, and we’re leaving. Now.” I turned to go. She dropped to her knees, hands clasped, tears suddenly falling. It was then I learned that her son, Jack, had been having episodes for half a year-refusing to eat, breaking things, posting violent things online. He’d screamed it again and again. “I’m going to adopt Lily! If I can’t have her as my daughter, I’d rather not live!” I almost laughed. It was a bitter, hollow sound. Adopt? Was I supposed to be dead? Then, as the rage cooled, a cold, clear thought took shape: This wasn’t about adoption. It was about possession. Jack was only twenty-two, single, with no job or income. How could Child Protective Services ever approve him? Unless…he wasn’t planning an adoption at all” A memory surfaced, sharp and cold. Six months ago, when fixing his phone, I’d d stumbled on a folder of indecent images of children, and dark-web “literary” links. . I looked down at Carol, who was still sobbing. “Even if you bleed from your knees, I will never agree.” She collapsed onto the floor, wailing, calling me selfish, disrespectful, and claiming I’d ruined her family. “My son will die! It’s all your daughter’s fault!” she shrieked. The relatives in the living room rushed in, drawn by the commotion. My parents snapped at me, “How could you upset your aunt like this?!” I didn’t explain. My eyes were fixed on Jack, who was emerging from behind the crowd. Overweight, with a face full of acne scars. He’d dropped out of community college and worked at an auto repair shop near home. “Give me your phone.” I pointed at him. He staggered back two steps, his eyes flickering. I’d felt uneasy since dinner-he’d been holding his phone, pretending to photograph the Christmas tree, but the lens always seemed to be aimed at Lily. I lunged, snatched the phone, and forced his face against it to unlock it. Inside the gallery, there was a folder named “Angel.” The moment I opened it, my scalp prickled. It was filled with pictures of my daughter. Dozens of them.

I grabbed Jack by the collar, unleashing a furious barrage of punches, nearly beating him to death right there. It took the older relatives to finally pull me off. With Sarah and Lily present, I couldn’t explain everything publicly, so I just smashed his phone into the fireplace. My parents were furious, raging at me for a long time, not bothering to hear my side of the story. I was beyond arguing. I grabbed Sarah and Lily, and we drove away from the old house late that night, heading for a motel thirty miles away. All the way, Lily slept soundly in the back seat, worn out. The pent-up fury and a bone-deep chill spread through me. I told Sarah everything. Her face went stark white as she listened. “We have to go now!” Her voice was sharp and furious. “Leave this state, and never come back!” I sighed. I wanted to be as far away from this family as possible. But the reality was, transportation in this small Midwestern town was nowhere near as convenient as in New York. The nearest Greyhound bus station wouldn’t open until tomorrow morning, and the airport for flights back to New York was in Columbus, a hundred and twenty miles away. It was snowing heavily, the roads were icy, and visibility was terrible-driving that far in this weather would be suicidal. “Tomorrow,” I said, squeezing her cold hand. “Tonight, we’ll rest at the motel. We’ll leave at first light.” Sarah looked out at the pitch-black, snowy night, then back at our sleeping daughter, and finally nodded, defeated. Snowflakes hammered densely against the windshield. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, keeping the speed low. But in my mind, Jack’s glare as we left flashed repeatedly. He stared at us, his eyes cold and vicious.

When my parents returned from town, they demanded to know why I’d ruined the family gathering. I told them about Jack’s malicious obsession with Lily. They began to tremble with rage. How could their beloved granddaughter become a mere “item” to be demanded and claimed? My parents ignored my pleas and insisted on going to Aunt Carol’s house to demand an explanation. I couldn’t stop them, and I really didn’t feel safe leaving Sarah and Lily alone at the motel, so I could only let them go, my heart in my throat. However, the sheer shamelessness and deceit of Jack’s family once again exceeded my imagination. About an hour later, my parents returned. My father had a bruise on his cheekbone, and my mother’s eyes were red-rimmed. Instead of receiving an apology, my parents had been slandered. Aunt Carol’s family turned the tables on them, accusing us of having a daughter just to “bewitch” Jack. They even cursed our entire family, wishing us “divine retribution and a terrible end.” My father, unable to stomach their lies, argued back, only to be beaten by Carol’s family. “Honey… look at my phone.” Sarah held her screen out to me. I tapped open our family Facebook group. What I saw instantly made my blood boil: furious insults from Aunt Carol’s family. “It’s our kindness to even consider taking your daughter! Filthy vermin, how dare you slander Jack!” “Look at how you’ve raised your daughter!” “Only useless people have daughters!!” A surge of brutal fury shot through me. I turned, grabbed a kitchen knife from the motel kitchenette, and lunged for the door. In that moment, I just wanted to shut them up for good. My parents, horrified, quickly held me back, tightly. “If you go to jail, what will happen to Lily?!” Dad pressed down on my shoulders. Lily’s cries came from the bedroom. Gradually, I loosened my grip, humiliation burning in my chest, making me feel as though I would vomit blood. If reason wouldn’t work, and I couldn’t fight these villains, couldn’t we at least escape them? “Dad, Mom,” I took a deep breath, “come back to New York with us. I can’t leave you here and be at peace. Think of it as… spending the rest of Christmas break at our place.” “But in this weather, flights are probably canceled…” Mom said worriedly. “We’ll drive back,” I said, feeling guilty. “The road conditions might be bad, and it’ll be tough on you.” My parents nodded, weary and heavy-hearted. “That’s the only option for now.”

I forced myself to sleep. A few more hours, and come morning, we’d leave all this behind for good. But I underestimated the malice of Jack’s family-they had no intention of letting us leave. The next day was Christmas. The small town was adorned with festive lights, brimming with holiday spirit. Yet our family was like refugees, silently packing our belongings. The car wheels crunched over the snow, slowly driving away from the town. As familiar landmarks shrunk in the rearview mirror, my taut nerves finally relaxed a little. Lily was securely fastened in her car seat, and Sarah was softly reading a picture book to her. My parents sat in the back, quietly discussing plans for when we returned to New York. I turned on the car stereo, hoping to dispel the gloom with soothing Christmas songs. Just as the piano intro to “Silent Night” began, my face went deathly pale. The steering wheel suddenly felt incredibly heavy and pulled uncontrollably to the right! My heart stopped. I slammed the brake pedal all the way down- The brakes had failed! “Stop! Stop now!” I wrestled desperately with the steering wheel. In my panic, a chilling thought struck me like lightning: this rental car had just passed a full inspection and was in perfect condition. And Jack, he worked at an auto repair shop. Someone who knew how to fix cars certainly knew how to make them fail at a critical moment. On the icy road, the tires screamed. The car wrenched sideways, slid, and punched through the guardrail. On one side of this road was a steep, snow-covered slope. God- Then came the shriek of my family, the deafening grind of tearing metal, and the world turning over and over as we fell. I woke up in a medical center. The nurse said our car had been stopped by several thick oak trees during its tumble, which was how we miraculously survived. My left tibia and fibula had an open fracture, now fixed with steel pins and a cast; three ribs on my right side were broken, one nearly puncturing my lung. The paramedics said if I had been brought in half an hour later, the internal bleeding would have been irreversible. A blessing in disguise, my parents and Sarah only suffered multiple contusions and mild concussions, no life-threatening severe injuries. After the crash, my father, still conscious, immediately dialed 911 on his phone, buying me precious time for rescue. Lily, miraculously, was unharmed thanks to her car seat, but she was terrified. For two whole days, she didn’t make a sound, just stared with empty, vacant eyes.

I leaned on my walker and shuffled to the pediatric ward, where I saw Lily curled in Sarah’s arms. Her small face was pale, her eyes unfocused, unresponsive to anything around her. I bore the sharp pain in my ribs, knelt by the bed, and took her into my arms, gently patting her back. After a long time, her stiff body finally softened a fraction. Two small, icy hands slowly rose, wrapping around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder. “Daddy,” her voice was a faint whisper, choked with broken sobs, “Did… did we do something wrong, for bad things to happen?” It was the first sentence she’d spoken in two days. My heart felt squeezed by a cold hand. I continued to pat her back, feeling warm tears soak my hospital gown. “No, sweetie, we didn’t do anything wrong,” I whispered, my face against her soft hair, saying each word clearly, unsure if I was telling her or myself. “It’s the people who did bad things…they haven’t received the punishment they deserve.” Later, I received the preliminary accident investigation report from the Ohio Highway Patrol. The conclusion: the vehicle lost control on an icy road, resulting in a single-vehicle accident. Due to extensive damage to the vehicle, and key components being further damaged during the roll and rescue efforts, it was impossible to determine if there was any human-induced mechanical failure before the incident. The patrol eventually classified it as a “traffic accident caused by adverse weather conditions and potentially improper driver handling.” Rage left me trembling. I knew the truth was buried in that tangle of metal and wire. I knew what Jack had done. But without proof, suspicion was just a story I told myself. Even the question of his involvement became a ghost-visible to me, impossible to hold up to the light. A deep, cold helplessness washed through me. Helpless. To be crushed so completely, to cheat death, and still be unable to point a finger at the man who caused it-it was the ultimate powerlessness. A few days later, I was outside the hospital smoking when Jack actually showed up. I tried to swing at him, but my injured leg gave way and I collapsed into the snow. He kicked my crutch aside, squatted down, and sneered, “Can’t even stand up straight. What kind of father does that make you?” “What do you want?” I managed. “Just visiting my future daughter.” He grinned. “Tough little girl. Congratulations.” That’s when it hit me: The police hadn’t notified relatives yet. So how did he know we were here? How did he find this hospital in the next county over? It meant one thing. He had caused the crash. I remembered the line from the police report: Child unharmed-secured in safety seat. And suddenly, it made a terrible kind of sense. He had engineered the crash to kill us all, counting on the car seat to save Lily. That way, she’d become an orphan, and he could step in to “adopt” her. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll retaliate?” I asked. “Afraid of what?” He spread his hands. “You have a job and a house in New York. You lay a hand on me, you go to prison. I have nothing, so I dare to do anything.” He patted my shoulder. “I know where you live, where you work. I can come to New York to ‘visit’ you anytime.” I tried to hit him again, but only stumbled. “Give me Lily, and you can all be safe.” He said, then left. A passerby helped me retrieve my crutch. I was trembling, with only one thought: Kill him.

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The day Liam stormed out of the house in a huff, I braved the pouring rain to find him. I never imagined a live power line would snap and strike me, costing me my arms forever. From then on, my dream of becoming a doctor shattered, and I became a permanent fixture in hospitals. I tried to end my life many times, but my family always pulled me back from the brink. Liam knelt before me, pleading: “I’m so sorry, Chloe. Please, just don’t die. Can you do that for me?” Sarah quit her job to watch over me day and night. David worked himself to the bone, picking up extra shifts, even taking a transfer overseas, all to fund my recovery. I thought things would slowly get better. But just as I was finally learning to adapt, to use my feet where my hands once were, I overheard their conversation by accident: “I wish… I wish we had just let her go back then.” That evening, I crept up to the rooftop alone. The wind howled. I sniffled, fighting back tears. “Chloe! Don’t move!” Sarah ran over, pulling me back from the edge of the rooftop with all her might. The force was too much; we both tumbled to the ground. Before I could even get up, she raised her hand, and a sharp, stinging slap echoed across my cheek. “Are you insane? Are you trying to kill me too?” My ears rang, and my cheek burned with a fierce sting. The next second, Sarah pulled me into her arms, holding me in a death grip. “If you dare to jump, I’ll go with you! I swear, I’ll follow you!” Her scorching tears dripped onto my neck. Liam stood panting beside us; he’d run so hard he nearly tripped. Seeing me safe, his knees buckled, and he almost collapsed. Muffled against Sarah’s shoulder, I whispered: “I wasn’t trying to die, honest.” “I just needed some air, a moment to clear my head.” Sarah stiffened, but her embrace tightened even more. After a long moment, Liam turned away, his shoulders slumped. “Let’s go. Let’s go home.” Back downstairs, I rinsed my feet under the faucet as usual, then settled at the dining table. The food, reheated too many times, looked dull and unappetizing. I lowered my head, my toes expertly gripping the spoon, slowly lifting each mouthful to my lips. Sarah sat across from me, her eyes red and swollen. Liam poked at his food with his fork, not taking a single bite. “Chloe, Ashley’s coming over tomorrow. We’re going to talk about our engagement.” I paused, then nodded. “Oh, that’s great. I actually have plans with a friend tomorrow, so I won’t be back for dinner.” Liam lowered his head, taking a large spoonful of rice. We both knew the truth. Since my accident, I barely left the hospital, and I’d lost touch with everyone I knew. I had no friends left. That night, Sarah was in the bathroom, drawing my bath as she always did. I stood in the doorway, watching her bend over to test the water temperature. “Mom. Can I grow my hair long?” She slowly straightened up, turning to look at me. “Why the sudden change of heart?” I looked at myself in the mirror. “Long hair could… cover them. Make it less obvious that I don’t have hands.” The washcloth slipped from Sarah’s hand, splashing into the tub. After a long moment, she bent down to pick it up, rinsing it repeatedly under the faucet. The rushing water almost drowned out her suppressed sobs. Her back to me, her voice thick with emotion, she said: “Yes, my darling. Long hair will make you the most beautiful girl.” The next morning, I was woken by the doorbell. It wasn’t even eight yet when Sarah, looking flustered, opened the door. “Coming!” A cheerful female voice replied: “Hi Sarah! I’m so sorry, I know I’m early. My parents will be here a bit later.” I sat up, pushing open my bedroom door with my foot. In the living room, a girl stood beside Liam. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she held a beautifully wrapped gift. She was smiling and chatting with Sarah. At the sound of my movement, she turned, her gaze falling, just for a moment, on my empty sleeves.

I turned, wanting to duck back into my room, but Ashley Thompson just smiled, walking right up to me. “You must be Chloe. Liam talks about you all the time. It’s so good to finally meet you!” She pulled a soft grey scarf from a gift bag and gently draped it around my shoulders. “I saw this scarf on a trip; it’s cashmere, super soft. The color will look gorgeous on you.” The scarf carried a faint, pleasant scent. I froze, my toes curling instinctively. “Thank you.” Liam and Sarah stood by, their expressions tight with tension. I lowered my head, wanting to retreat. “I’m sorry, I actually have plans today, so I won’t be staying for lunch.” Ashley’s hand rested gently on my shoulder. “I’ve tried to visit so many times, but we always miss each other. Today, I really want to spend some time talking to you.” She smiled playfully. “Liam, don’t you agree?” Liam looked at me. “Chloe, could you maybe reschedule your plans?” I quietly hummed my agreement. By the time I had washed up and settled on the sofa, Ashley, wearing Sarah’s apron, was already in the kitchen helping out. She moved with practiced ease, chatting with Sarah as she worked, making my mom smile. Ashley placed a fruit platter on the coffee table and sat down beside me. “Chloe, your eyes are so beautiful. You should smile more often.” I forced a small smile, unsure how to respond. Ashley’s parents arrived next. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson were impeccably dressed and spoke with polite reserve. The gifts they’d brought piled up on one corner of the coffee table. When lunch was served, I stood up. “I think I’ll eat in my room, you all…” Ashley gently took my arm, pulling a chair closer to hers. “You sit right here next to me.” Sarah opened her mouth, then closed it. Liam looked like he wanted to say something, but held back. I ended up sitting down. At first, everyone chatted about the weather and preliminary wedding plans. Ashley even served me, naturally, as if we’d known each other forever. Until my toes, with practiced ease, gripped the soup spoon. The smiles vanished from Mr. and Mrs. Thompson’s faces. They set down their spoons and exchanged a look. Only Ashley’s voice continued, a lonely sound at the dinner table. After the meal, Mr. Thompson took a sip of tea. “Liam is a good young man; we have no objections, as long as you two are happy together.” He paused, his gaze slowly sweeping in my direction. “But there’s one condition: once you’re married, your priority must be your own family. Your sister has parents to care for her, Liam. You can’t keep putting her first in everything.” Liam’s back immediately stiffened. “Mr. Thompson, Chloe is my sister. I will never abandon her.” Mr. Thompson raised a hand, cutting him off. “But you’re starting your own family now. You can’t take care of her forever.” “I can!” “No, you can’t! Not unless you don’t want to marry my daughter.” The air grew thick with tension. “He can.” All eyes turned to me. I stared at my empty sleeves, then repeated softly: “Liam can do it.” Ashley jumped to her feet. “Dad! What are you saying?” “I won’t agree to that! Chloe is like my sister, now and always!” Mr. Thompson’s voice suddenly rose. “What about you? How will you live your life? Always taking a backseat to her?” Mr. Thompson grabbed her wrist. “Come on, we’re leaving!” Ashley was half-dragged, half-pulled by her parents towards the door. She looked back, tears streaming down her face. Liam pulled out a cigarette pack and walked onto the balcony. His lighter clicked several times before the flame finally caught. I watched him through the glass door. His back was hunched, smoke rising in plumes, only to be snatched away by the wind. In that moment, looking at my limp, empty sleeves, a wave of nausea washed over me. Suddenly, I hated myself. Deeply, utterly, terribly hated myself.

In the middle of the night, I woke to sounds from the living room. I padded out barefoot. Liam was bent over, hastily pulling on his shoes. “Liam, where are you going?” He froze. “Ashley snuck out. She just called, she’s over by the marshlands park.” “I’m going to pick her up now.” I paused, then nodded. “It’s cold out, make sure you bundle up.” He stood up, looking at me. “Go back to sleep, Chloe.” I forced a small smile. “I’ll leave the door unlocked. I’ll wait for you to bring Ashley home.” Liam smiled too, reaching out to ruffle my hair. “Okay.” The door closed softly. Streetlights blinked off one by one, and dawn slowly broke. Liam didn’t come back. When Sarah got up, she was startled to see me curled up on the sofa. “Chloe? Why are you sleeping out here?” “Liam went to pick up Ashley. He’s not back yet.” Sarah dialed the number. It rang for an agonizingly long time before someone finally answered. As she listened, her face slowly drained of all color, turning chalk-white. “Which hospital? We’re coming right away!” Sarah turned to me, her lips trembling. “Ashley… she was hit by a car.” The light outside the emergency room was blindingly white. When we rushed there, we spotted Liam leaning against the wall from afar. His clothes were dusty, and a bruise darkened his temple. Mr. Thompson, who had been so polite and composed yesterday, now had bloodshot eyes and was clutching Liam’s collar with a death grip. “This is all because of you! All of it, you damn scumbag! If it wasn’t for you, my daughter wouldn’t have run out in the middle of the night! She wouldn’t have been hit by a car!” Sarah stumbled forward, bowing her head repeatedly, clasping her hands together in desperate apology. Her voice trembled, tears streaming down her face. “We were wrong, we failed as parents.” Mr. Thompson shoved Liam away, pointing a finger at Sarah. “Get out!” “Take your son, and that… disabled girl, and get out! Never show your faces here again!” “If anything happens to Ashley, I swear I’ll make you pay!” We stood there for a long time. Until the emergency room door opened. The doctor emerged, pulling down his mask. “The patient is out of immediate danger, but we’ll need to keep her under observation.” Mr. and Mrs. Thompson immediately rushed towards him. Liam took half a step forward, then froze. Sarah clutched his arm. “Let’s go, let’s go home for now.” On the drive home, the car was filled with an oppressive silence. Liam gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. I sat in the back, watching the back of his head. For a fleeting second, I saw him quickly lift a hand to wipe at his eyes. Back at home, I retreated to my bedroom. I don’t know how much time passed before a muffled sob reached me. “Sarah, it’s my fault. I ruined Ashley’s life.” “If anything serious happens to her…” “Why didn’t I just agree yesterday?! Why didn’t I just say yes?!” His cries grew louder. Then, I heard his hoarse voice: “If I had known this would happen, I wouldn’t have stopped her from dying in the first place.” Then, a sharp, resounding slap echoed through the quiet house. Followed by Sarah’s raw, broken wails. I leaned my back against the door, slowly sliding down to the floor. Tears streamed silently down my face, tracing paths to my neck, soaking into my collar.

The next afternoon, my cell phone rang. I took a few shaky breaths, then used my toes to swipe and answer. My dad’s face appeared on the screen. Behind him was a makeshift work camp, the sky a dreary grey. He looked thinner, and his skin was much darker. “Chloe, have you eaten yet?” “How have you been doing? Are your arms still hurting?” I forced a smile, trying to keep my voice light. “Yeah, I ate. I’m doing great.” “Dad, you’ve lost weight, and you’re so tanned.” He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m fine, honey. Your old man’s tough.” “This project here is almost done. Once I get paid, I’ll come back and find you the best physical therapist.” Just then, someone off-screen shouted his name, urging him back to work. “Dad, you should go. I’m really fine, truly.” “You need to take care of yourself out there, don’t get sick, eat well, stay warm…” I rattled on, and David smiled. “Alright, I gotta go. You listen to Sarah, okay?” I set the phone down, rubbing my cheek against my knee. It was wet. The house was quiet. Sarah and Liam had left for the hospital early that morning. On the living room table, a plate of food waited for me. I sat down and ate, mouthful by mouthful, very slowly. Then, I went back to my room and opened my closet with my foot. In the very back, hung a light blue dress with delicate embroidery on the bodice. Liam bought it for me with his very first paycheck. He said, “Our Chloe will look just like a princess in this.” That felt like a lifetime ago. It took me far longer than usual, using my feet and teeth, to awkwardly put it on. The zipper was in the back, out of my reach, so the dress hung open. Sitting before the mirror, I stared at my reflection. The dress, unzipped, hung loosely on my frame, its sleeves dangling empty. Suddenly, I just wanted to hear Sarah’s voice. I picked up my phone, dialing Sarah’s number with my foot. It rang and rang, but no one answered. I tried again, with the same result. Then I called Liam. This time, it was quickly hung up. Seconds later, a text message popped up. Just three words. “I’m so annoyed.” I stared at those three words for a long, long time. Then, I typed out a reply. “I’m sorry.” Slipping on my softest canvas shoes, I left the house. At the far end of the apartment complex, there was a building tucked away in a secluded corner. I didn’t take the elevator. Instead, I started climbing the stairs. It backed onto a wall, and below it was an overgrown patch of shrubs, usually deserted, their branches looking half-dead. I climbed all the way to the top floor—the eighteenth. The wind on the rooftop was just as fierce as I remembered. I walked to the edge, sat down, and let my legs dangle over. This way, I wouldn’t fall on anyone. I fumbled a painkiller from my dress pocket, ripped open the foil with my teeth, and swallowed it. I was afraid of the pain, and even more afraid of failing, of surviving and being even more pathetic. Then, I gently leaned forward. The wind roared violently from below, filling my ears with its deafening shriek. … Sarah and Liam returned that evening. As their car pulled into the apartment complex, they saw a dense crowd gathered in the distance. A chilling premonition flashed through them. Sarah pushed open the car door, her legs giving out, almost sending her to her knees. Liam steadied her, and they both stumbled, running towards the crowd. They forced their way to the very front. In a cleared-out space, a grimy plastic tarp covered something. A sliver of light blue fabric peeked out from under the edge, along with a small wisp of dark hair. Sarah, like a madwoman, pushed past everyone trying to stop her and tore away the plastic tarp.

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On the way to finalize my divorce from Adrian, I died in a car crash. I’d refused to let him go after finding out he cheated on me with Seraphina Sterling. We’d spent three years tormenting each other. I even tried to end my life, but nothing could bring him back. I finally decided to let go, but fate had other plans. We died instantly, only to be reborn together. It was our wedding day again. Adrian, instead of holding the bouquet, dropped it and rushed to embrace Seraphina, who stood among the guests. “I’m calling off the wedding! In this life, Seraphina will be my only wife.” Adrian stared at me, his eyes wary and annoyed. He probably expected me to throw a fit again, to refuse. But my gaze was calm. I simply said,”I agree.” The wedding dissolved into chaos, but someone still managed to post a video online, making it the top trending topic of the day. The comments section exploded. @AnonymousUser: Wait, weren’t Adrian Donovan and Adrian Donovan childhood sweethearts? Why is he suddenly in love with Seraphina? @LoveIsBlind: Just growing up together doesn’t mean it’s love. I say, Aurora should step aside for true love. She shouldn’t use her heiress status to break them up. @Heartfelt_Wishes: Even though Seraphina comes from a humble background, she and Adrian clearly have true feelings for each other. Miss Sterling should just let them be happy. @BoycottDonovan: Exactly! True love conquers all. If the Sterling family tries to force them apart with this arranged marriage, I’m boycotting all Sterling Corp. products! People even flocked to Sterling Corp.’s Ins account, demanding we approve Adrian and Seraphina’s union. They threatened to boycott Sterling Corp. if we dared to harm Seraphina. And just like that, Sterling Corp.’s stock began to plummet. I clutched my phone tightly. In my previous life, Adrian had manipulated public opinion to pressure Sterling Corp., ruining several of our projects just to force me into a divorce. Now, in this life, he was already using the same tactics, threatening us through the media, simply because he feared we might hurt Seraphina. My dad slammed his hand on the table, fuming. “Seraphina, what were you thinking?” Seraphina was one of the scholarship students Sterling Corp. supported. Because I pitied her difficult past, I took her on as my assistant after she graduated. She was shy and insecure, so I taught her confidence and grace, introducing her to my social circle. I showed her high-end brands, brought her to exclusive galas, bought her beautiful evening gowns. Even when I was with Adrian, I’d bring her along so she could experience the world. I helped her emerge from her ugly duckling phase. Adrian once praised me, calling me kind-hearted and generous for changing her impoverished life. Now, her eyes darted nervously before she dramatically dropped to her knees. Tears instantly glistened on her delicate face. “I… I also like Adrian, but I know I’m not worthy of him. I never dared to express my feelings. But since Adrian is willing to call off his wedding for me in public, I’m willing to be with him.” “Please, Miss Aurora, let us be together.” She reached out, trying to grab my hand, whispering conspiratorially, “You taught me that when an opportunity presents itself, you must seize it without a moment’s hesitation. Adrian, I’m not letting him go.” I recoiled, disgusted, shaking her hand away. I hadn’t used much force, but she collapsed to the floor as if brutally shoved. Adrian suddenly burst into the room, scooped Seraphina into his arms, and roared at me. “Adrian, if you have a problem, take it out on me! If I ever see you bullying Seraphina again, I swear, I won’t go easy on you!”

I’d heard those threats too many times in my last life; I was immune. But seeing the raw, red welts on his back now, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of disorientation. Those were the marks of the Donovan family’s punishment. Adrian and I had grown up as childhood sweethearts, both the youngest in our families, so we always had plenty to talk about. During our school days, he’d always wait for me outside my villa so we could walk to school together. While other kids had one-on-one tutors, we had one-on-two sessions. During holidays, we’d chase the Northern Lights in Santa Claus Village in Finland, and watch stars in the highest dark sky park. In my rebellious high school years, I once mentioned how thrilling motorcycles seemed. He practiced tirelessly, covered in bruises, yet he’d still grin at me. “Come on, my princess, let’s go for a ride.” But he lost control on a turn, and we crashed. We lay side-by-side in hospital beds, giggling like fools. Our bodies hurt, but our hearts felt warm. After we recovered, his father still punished him. His back was striped with bloody welts from a cane, and I cried my eyes out. He, however, brushed it off, saying only I could make him break the rules and get disciplined. Now, he was willing to be whipped bloody just to be with another woman. It was true then, that love was real. But it was also true that love could change so easily. Mr. Donovan kicked Adrian hard. “You rebellious fool! I will never agree to you being with this woman. Give it up now!” “The alliance between the Sterling and Donovan families must go through.” Adrian’s eyes were resolute. “You don’t need to agree. Seraphina and I are in love. I won’t marry anyone but her in this life.” He picked her up, staggering towards the door. One had a back full of bloody marks, the other was crying a river of tears. They looked like star-crossed lovers torn apart in a TV drama. Mr. Donovan was about to say more, but I stopped him. “I don’t want a man whose heart belongs to another woman. The marriage pact between the Sterling and Donovan families is off.” Mr. Donovan hesitated for a moment. “The partnership between Sterling and Donovan is already established. Caleb heard about your canceled engagement, and he’s willing to form an alliance with the Sterling family. What do you think?” I was taken aback. Caleb was Adrian’s uncle, ten years older than me, and had been developing business overseas. In my last life, he hadn’t married even by forty; I heard he had a past love he couldn’t forget. Mr. Donovan added, “It’s fine if you don’t agree. The Sterling-Donovan partnership can still continue.” I nodded. “I accept.” He had his white moonlight, and I had no interest in love. As long as our marriage benefited our families, that was all that mattered. True love? What was that worth? Hearing this, Adrian, who had paused at the doorway, took a deep breath and continued out. Five years later, during the Lunar New Year festivities. Caleb and I returned to the States. At the family dinner, I unexpectedly ran into Adrian. I gave a slight nod and turned to leave. But Adrian called out to me, the usual disgust and impatience gone from his eyes. “Are you doing well?”

I nodded casually. “I’m doing great.” “I heard you have a child?” His tone was complicated. “You used to say you wanted a DINK lifestyle, that you didn’t like kids?” He was referring to our last life. We’d been married for two years with no children. After a medical check-up, I discovered Adrian had low sperm count. To spare his male pride, I never told him, instead claiming that I didn’t like children and didn’t want them. He’d wholeheartedly agreed back then, saying it was perfect—no one to interrupt our couple’s world, just the two of us for life. There was no need to explain it now. I simply said, “Preferences change. I love having a child now.” Thinking of my son, born after ten months of carrying him, my face softened. He’d just returned to the States and was still adjusting; Caleb was upstairs putting him to sleep. I wondered if he was asleep yet. Adrian’s expression grew even more complex. “Are you still upset that I left you for Seraphina?” His voice carried a sigh. “I know you’ve also been reborn, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so calm when I called off the wedding five years ago.” “In the last life, you even tried to end your life to win me back. How could you willingly have a child with someone else in this life?” “You’re stubborn, Aurora. You don’t let go of someone you’ve fixated on so easily.” “Aurora, you don’t have to pretend to be so calm in front of me.” Listening to his analysis of me, my thoughts drifted back. I was stubborn, always pushing until I hit rock bottom. In my previous life, I genuinely couldn’t accept that the person I deeply loved could change his heart so easily. I pulled out photos of us playing as children, hoping to rekindle memories of our shared past. Adrian dismissed them as childish games. I reminded him of his vows under the Northern Lights, where he’d promised me forever. He claimed they were just meaningless words said in the heat of the moment. I stormed his company, making a scene, accusing him of infidelity and bad character. In response, he retaliated against Sterling Corp., stealing several of our projects. Unable to get through to him, I went to Seraphina. I confronted her, demanding to know why she betrayed me after I helped her escape her difficult past, only for her to turn around and push me into hell. Seraphina, however, calmly stated that I was the one who taught her to seize every opportunity to climb higher, and Adrian was simply an opportunity I had delivered to her. Behind my back, she frequently used my name to arrange meetings with Adrian. Small, accidental touches, subconscious glances—she slowly but surely lured Adrian away. After hearing this, I slapped her repeatedly, cursing her as a cheap, conniving woman. Adrian, however, violently slapped me, calling me a shrew. Seraphina cowered in his arms, looking utterly pathetic. “Adrian, Aurora didn’t mean it. Please, don’t be angry with her, okay?” Adrian looked at her with such tenderness. “You’re always so kind. She’s not like you. She’s an heiress; she has everything. But you only have me. If I don’t protect you, who will?” That scene stabbed me to the core. The man who had once been so worried if I accidentally tripped was now slapping me. Utter despair washed over me, as if the very foundation of my long-held feelings had collapsed. I lay in the bathtub, slitting my wrist. My parents, worried, came to check on me and found me, rushing me to the hospital. They cursed Adrian, then cursed me, asking what they would do if I left them. It was then that I noticed the many gray hairs on their heads, the deepened wrinkles on their faces. In that moment, I seemed to snap awake, to let go. It took half my life to rip Adrian from my heart. I agreed to the divorce, but then came the car crash. Perhaps fate wanted to give us a second chance, so we were reborn on our wedding day, and destiny began to spin anew. My thoughts returned to the present, facing Adrian, who was reminiscing about the past. I couldn’t help but find it amusing, and indeed, I chuckled. After experiencing death, all those crumbling emotions had long since been swept away by the current of time. “You’re overthinking it. I was just thinking about my husband and son.”

I tried to leave. But Adrian suddenly grabbed my arm. “Aurora, I…” “I’ve been looking for you, Adrian. There you are!” Seraphina suddenly appeared, grabbing Adrian’s hand before he could reach for mine. Adrian frowned. “Why are you here?” Seraphina’s face held a hint of grievance. “Your family doesn’t like me. I didn’t want to face them alone.” Then she looked at me, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, regretting what she’d just said about his family. She possessively linked her arm through Adrian’s. “Aurora, welcome back to the States! But… why are you here alone with my husband?” “I don’t mean anything by it, of course, I just worry what people might misunderstand.” She was elegantly dressed now, but deep in her eyes, a barely concealed worry flickered. Seeing the hidden meaning in her words, I stated directly, “Not everyone is like you, desperate to seduce someone who’s already taken.” “Besides, I have no interest in picking up someone else’s trash, so don’t worry about anyone trying to steal him from you.” As soon as I finished, both Adrian and Seraphina’s faces fell. I didn’t look at them again and went straight upstairs. Years ago, when Adrian insisted on marrying Seraphina despite his family’s objections, Mr. Donovan had sent him to a smaller company in the South. Even when he came back for the holidays, he couldn’t stay in the family mansion and had to use a hotel. I’d heard before that Adrian rarely returned to the old family estate. Yet, I saw him again at dinner the next day. I was quietly eating when suddenly, a shrimp landed on my plate. Adrian’s voice was gentle and natural. “You love this dish, and it’s a bit far. Here, have some.” The table immediately fell silent. I frowned, intending to discard the shrimp, but Caleb gently took my hand and picked up the shrimp himself. “Your aunt doesn’t like shrimp. Don’t serve it to her next time.” Adrian instinctively retorted, “How can that be? She loves shrimp!” I cut him off. “I’ve never liked seafood since I was a kid. My whole family knows that. Especially shrimp.” I only ever pretended to like it because Adrian did. Adrian seemed to recall something, and his face went pale. Later, while taking a walk after dinner, I saw Adrian and Seraphina talking in a corner of the garden. The wind carried snippets of their conversation. “We usually just came for the second day of the Lunar New Year and left, right? Why are we staying today? You’re not here to see Aurora, are you? Is she seducing you?” “What nonsense are you spouting? Don’t you dare assume everyone is manipulative just because you are!” Seraphina’s face burned. “If you hadn’t been open to cheating in the first place, could I have seduced you? You’re losing your patience with me, Adrian. Are you regretting it?” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Adrian irritably lit a cigarette and walked away. That night, as they said their goodbyes, Seraphina passed by me and seemed to trip, pulling me down with her. Caught off guard, I fell on top of her. Beneath her, a pool of crimson spread. She looked at Adrian, eyes wide with terror. “I… I think I’m pregnant! Our baby… will it be okay?”

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Three years after leaving the country, I landed at the airport, my two young children clinging to me. Seraphina, the Church’s Saintess, who was always so cool and distant, messaged me: “You’re back?” I lied without a flicker of emotion: “No way, I’m still in England. Just about to go to bed.” But the very next second, she materialized in front of me. Her eyes were fixed, burning, on my two children. “Is this why you disappeared? To do this?” “Don’t you understand? I never agreed to a divorce. This is cheating!” I scoffed. My hand reached out, brushing against the prayer pendant around her neck. “You wouldn’t have children with me, so I had to find someone who would, didn’t I?” When we got married, she claimed to love me fiercely. She said she’d do anything for me, as long as it didn’t mean breaking her sacred vows. But then, her first love, Caleb, came back. He said if he could make Seraphina “break her vows” nine times, then I was to “voluntarily divorce” her. I lost that battle, utterly and completely.

When Caleb returned to the country, he challenged me to a bet: who could make Seraphina break her vows nine times first? I sneered and immediately wrote out the agreement by hand. “If you win, I’m out.” “But if you lose, I’ll make sure you can never show your face in this city again.” Yet, only I knew the truth. I wasn’t nearly as confident as I appeared. For three years of marriage with Seraphina, I’d bent over backward for her, giving her everything I had. But I could never make her break those sacred vows she held so dear. Less than a week into the bet, Seraphina’s visits home became fewer and far between. Gritting my teeth, I slipped into a new silk robe and walked into her meditation room. I took her hand and leaned in, my lips tracing a path down her body. I could feel her breathing grow heavy, her eyes clouding with an unfamiliar desire. But then her phone rang – that distinct chime meant it was the Church. Seraphina instantly jolted awake, pushed me away, and stormed out the door. She was gone for three hours, and she didn’t come back. The blood in my veins ran cold, inch by agonizing inch. I stood there like a statue, my mind utterly blank, unable to process anything. It wasn’t until Caleb arrived at my door, holding an intimate item and showing me the unmistakable traces left inside. “Aaron, this is the ninth time.” “I told you, Seraphina loves me. Why wouldn’t you believe it?” “A bet’s a bet. You lost, now pay up.” I stared at his triumphant face, then remembered myself just moments ago, craving Seraphina’s touch like a pathetic beggar. A wave of dizziness washed over me. Why was I humiliating myself like this? Before marriage, I was the proudest heir from a prominent family in our circle. Why was I now competing with Caleb over what happened in a bedroom? I feigned nonchalance, pulling the signed divorce papers from my nightstand. “Here. Now get out.” Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You confronted Seraphina?” I acted indifferent. “No. Seraphina said the divorce was up to me.” “It’s just a woman. If you like her, she’s all yours.” But looking at Seraphina’s name on the agreement. It still felt like a hole was brutally ripped right through my chest. This was Seraphina’s “gift” to me on our wedding day. Seraphina was a woman of her word. Back then, she’d stopped my more intimate advances, saying she couldn’t break her vows, that she had to keep her sacred commitment for three years, and asked me to wait for her. But if I ever grew weary. I could sign the divorce papers anytime, and she would never stand in my way. At the time, I was incredibly moved. I thought she was the one for life. Now, I just felt horrifically foolish. Did she do this to give me freedom, or to simply leave herself an escape route? Caleb took the agreement, flipped through it twice, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “Just like the proud Aaron I know, so casual.” “Everyone in town knows you spent five years just chasing Seraphina. I thought you’d be more reluctant to give up.” “Alright, in a week, when Seraphina’s vow-keeping period officially ends, I’ll give her this agreement as a gift.” “You two can finally stop torturing each other.” I gave him a cold look and showed him out. But then, I found myself thinking Caleb was right. I’d tied someone who didn’t love me to my side for five years. What else was that but torture? I pulled out my phone and found the flight tickets I’d booked for Seraphina and me to Iceland, set for a week later. Seraphina didn’t like long trips; I’d pestered her into going. When she agreed, did she also think I was such a bother, so demanding? I tapped my screen, canceling Seraphina’s ticket. If this was how it was, I’d set her free. Such a mistake, I couldn’t let it continue.

Not long after Caleb left, I went to bed. Half-asleep, someone slipped into bed beside me, their arms wrapping around my waist from behind. Annoyed, I batted her hand away. “Aren’t you going back to your meditation room? What are you doing here?” A woman’s breath tickled the back of my neck. After a long moment, she whispered: “Why did you cancel the Iceland tickets?” My irritation and gloom intensified. I snapped back, “Can’t I just not want to go anymore?” And pushed her away: “Get away from me.” But my hand pressed against her chest, and Seraphina let out a muffled groan, as if in immense pain. I felt an odd sensation on her chest again and quickly pulled back her nightgown. In that instant, the world spun around me. Below her left breast, a brand new belly button ring gleamed! And beside it, two tiny letters were tattooed: C.B. I didn’t know if my eyes were bloodshot, but my voice trembled uncontrollably: “What is this?” Did Seraphina like Caleb so much that she’d do anything for him? When Seraphina’s parents died unexpectedly, her relatives swooped in, grabbing most of their assets and even hiring people to harass and bully her. I was the one who stood in front of her, pulling every string and leveraging every contact to shield her from humiliation. Seraphina said she needed solitude and spiritual guidance. I stayed by her side, never forcing her, pouring my entire being into loving her. Until she gradually emerged from the shadows and accepted my proposal. How ridiculous. She kept her vows, saying she couldn’t touch me. Yet she could get a piercing, branding herself like a pet with an owner’s mark, all for another man? But if Seraphina didn’t want it, who could force her? Was this just another one of their intimate games? Or did Caleb want me to see firsthand just how much Seraphina would compromise for him? Seraphina frowned, pulling her clothes back up. “It’s nothing serious, just a piece of jewelry. If you don’t like it, I won’t wear it.” “As for those two letters… Aaron, I’ll explain it all to you later.” Then she hesitated, stepping out of the bedroom: “I’m going to pray. You get some rest.” My keen eyes caught it: the sacred medallion necklace I had painstakingly customized for her was gone, replaced by a strange, exotic-looking new one. I gritted my teeth and called Alfred, the butler: “Find out where Seraphina went today, who she saw.” “And where her old necklace is.” Not long after. A security camera video was sent to my phone. In the video, Seraphina was drinking glass after glass of wine offered by Caleb, clearly quite drunk. A few friends at the table exclaimed: “I heard Ms. Seraphina never touches alcohol because of her faith. Caleb, you really have pull!” “Isn’t that right? Back in school, Seraphina only ever showed special treatment to Caleb. Seems Caleb being abroad didn’t change a thing.” “I heard Seraphina’s married. Must have a pretty strict husband, right?” Caleb chuckled, taking Seraphina’s hand: “If I hadn’t had to leave back then, Aaron would never have had the chance to marry Seraphina.” “And I told Seraphina not to touch Aaron for three years, and she actually kept that promise. What kind of feelings are those? I don’t need to spell it out, do I?” My heart gave a violent jolt. What did Seraphina take me for? She leaned on me to get through the lowest point of her life, yet she diligently followed her “true love’s” command, preserving this ridiculous “chastity” for him? Caleb patted Seraphina’s cheek, rousing her from her daze: “Throw away this old necklace. I bought you a new one. From now on, you’ll only wear mine.” Seraphina looked hesitant. But under Caleb’s urging, she still unclasped the necklace and dropped it to the ground. Perhaps even heaven couldn’t stand it. The chain snapped the moment it hit the floor, and the sacred medallion cracked against the hard ground with a sharp sound. Just like my heart, shattering into a million pieces. Alfred placed the two retrieved medallion fragments in my palm: “Master Aaron, the chain and other parts were collected by the cleaning staff. Shall I retrieve them?” I gave a bitter laugh: “No need.” “What’s the point of finding a few fragments?” Seraphina was just like this necklace. Once a treasure I painstakingly sought out and cherished. Now, fallen and broken, it’s nothing.

I instructed the staff to pack up all of Seraphina’s belongings and send them to her own apartment. Seraphina walked in, carrying breakfast, brushing past the movers. She watched her scented candles, spiritual books, and prayer mat being carried out, her face a mask of utter bewilderment: “What’s going on?” “Aaron, are you moving?” I flashed her a wide smile: “Yeah, I’ve lived here too long. Looking at it just irritates me more and more.” Then I glanced at the tray in her hands: A plate of salad, a bowl of oatmeal, a few slices of whole wheat bread. Not even a fried egg. Seraphina had a very clean diet, and I had followed suit, eating light for years. So I grabbed my bag and headed straight for the door: “Eat it yourself.” Completely ignoring her astonished expression. What Seraphina thought now, I simply didn’t care. That evening, I met up with a few friends from our circle at a bar, a farewell of sorts. My friends kept teasing me: “Aaron, the great heir, finally out for a drink? Aren’t you afraid your meticulous and self-disciplined wife will disapprove?” “Yeah, after getting married, you became a model husband. What’s changed today?” I scoffed: “Rules are for people who deserve them.” Just then, a commotion broke out in a corner of the bar. Someone said two people were in a drinking contest – whoever finished twelve shots of hard liquor first would get to take home a “special guest” tonight. A friend went to check it out, returning with a grim expression: “Aaron, you need to go look… It’s Seraphina.” My expression remained unchanged. I knew I should be surprised—surprised that a teetotaler would desperately gamble like this for someone else. But in my heart, there wasn’t a single ripple. It was as if all my feelings for Seraphina had completely died yesterday. I even walked over with a sense of detached amusement, joining everyone: “Come on, let’s go watch the show.” Seraphina stood before a long table covered in glasses. When she saw me, she couldn’t hide her shock. But just as she tried to move, the bartender spoke up: “Ma’am, leaving now counts as a forfeit. Are you sure?” She looked at me, then at Caleb beside her, her lips moving silently, before finally turning away: “I’m not forfeiting.” Caleb leaned in close to my ear. Under the cover of the bar’s booming music, he whispered malicious words into my ear: “Aaron, maybe you should try to talk some sense into Seraphina?” “After all, you’ll barely be married for a few more days. How many more times can you openly beg her?” “But then again, if Seraphina doesn’t listen to you even once, you’d be truly pathetic.” I ignored Caleb, just staring at Seraphina’s face. Her gaze never met mine, as if she was deliberately avoiding me. Her fingers unconsciously toyed with the new necklace around her neck. I knew her—it was a nervous habit when she felt guilty. The onlookers were moved by her and Caleb’s “deep affection”: “Drinking twelve shots, she’ll probably end up in the hospital, right? This girl is truly devoted to her boyfriend.” “So touching! Wishing them forever.” A vein pulsed in Seraphina’s temple. She snapped, “Shut up!” Then she turned to me, her voice softening: “Aaron, I have my reasons. Listen, I’ll explain everything when we get home…” I smiled. I simply reminded her in a calm voice: “Seraphina, you said you’d keep your vows for three years. There are three days left.” “Drink this, and all our agreements between us will be null and void.” Her expression froze. She was silent for a long time, then finally nodded: “Then they’ll be null and void… Tonight, when we go home, I’ll make up for everything I owe you…” I knew she meant she would finally consummate our marriage. But now, I only found it laughable. She was finally willing to “break her vows” for me—after she had done everything she shouldn’t have, for another man. I took off my wedding ring. I dropped it into the glass of liquor in front of her and turned to leave. But unexpected, there were too many onlookers. Someone knocked over a champagne tower nearby. Countless glass cups came crashing down on my head. I heard Seraphina shout my name. But in that critical moment, she shielded Caleb, who was on the other side. The sound of shattering glass exploded in my ears. As my vision gradually darkened, I saw Seraphina rushing towards me. I knew she was holding my falling body, knew her hands were trembling. She whispered in my ear, over and over, that she loved me. But the sound only made me sick. When I woke up, it was exactly three days later. My friends told me that after I was rushed to the emergency room, Seraphina stayed by the door, refusing to get her hands bandaged even though they were covered in cuts from the shattered glass and bleeding profusely. They said Seraphina had stayed by my bedside for days, personally taking care of everything, not even letting anyone else touch my face. They also said Seraphina had booked a huge banquet hall, filled with my favorite blue irises, though I had no idea what she was celebrating. I called Alfred: “Take me to the airport.” As the car pulled away from the hospital, I saw Seraphina’s car driving in. The moment our cars passed, I raised my window. Seraphina was truly happy. She had owed Caleb twelve favors, and the drinking contest was the last one. Seraphina thought she could finally let go of Caleb completely and devote herself wholeheartedly to the husband of her life. But when she walked into the hospital room. The bed was empty. Every inch of the sheets was perfectly smooth, not a single wrinkle. In that moment, her face first showed confusion, then bewilderment, finally turning into an indescribable panic. Caleb, all smiles, handed her a document: “Seraphina, you’re finally free!” “This is the divorce agreement Aaron signed. We can finally be together again!”

Seraphina froze. During this time, she’d constantly heard Caleb talk about “freedom,” and occasionally heard the word from Aaron too. But she had never imagined that this so-called “freedom” would be a divorce agreement! Caleb picked up a bouquet of flowers nearby: “Seraphina, everything you’ve done for me since I came back, I’ve kept it all in my heart.” “I never thought you’d do anything for me, even risk your life.” “So, I made Aaron sign the divorce agreement. We can finally be together properly!” Friends who had come to visit Seraphina also flooded in: “Congratulations, Seraphina! Finally reunited with your true love!” “Ms. Seraphina, you’re so lucky! Not only did you win back your old flame, but you also got your husband to let go willingly. Amazing!” No one mentioned what would happen to Aaron. Seraphina remembered that during her three years of marriage to Aaron, people always said how he wasn’t good enough for her, how he was inferior. Aaron never cared. In his eyes, as long as they truly loved each other, other people’s opinions didn’t matter. Seraphina struggled to control her trembling voice: “So… where’s Aaron?” Everyone present was stunned. For a moment, no one spoke, and the atmosphere became incredibly awkward. Caleb felt a bit guilty. He suddenly dared not look at Seraphina’s expression: “He left… Aaron’s parents came to pick him up. I heard the whole family went abroad.” After a thirteen-hour flight, I arrived in Iceland. I had planned to come here with Seraphina after her birthday. I had even booked the best suite for our romantic getaway. Who knew she was that kind of person, simply not worth all my effort. That evening, soaking in the hotel’s hot spring, I finally felt a long-lost peace. Maybe Caleb was right. Ending this marriage truly brought freedom. And I was free too. I opened my phone, and messages flooded in. [Aaron, where are you? Why is your phone off?!] [Aaron, please listen to me. Caleb was lying; it’s not what you think!] [Come back, let’s talk this through properly.] I was about to delete and block her. I’d given her nine chances; wasn’t that enough? Now, even if she knelt and begged me, saying she loved me, not Caleb. I wouldn’t care. The calls kept coming, non-stop. I looked at Seraphina’s name on the screen and decisively hung up. She still wouldn’t give up, trying again and again. To think, Seraphina was one of the proudest and most aloof people in our circle. I’d truly never seen her cling so desperately. Seraphina was out of options. She sent a photo of the divorce agreement—the document had been torn to shreds. [Aaron, our divorce agreement is void.] [You are still my husband. You must come back and give me an explanation.] It was like someone backed into a corner, still desperately clinging on. I felt a rare thrill of satisfaction. The frustration Caleb had caused me was almost completely gone. I took a photo of the final divorce papers and sent it back. [You can tear your agreement all you want. I have a copy here anyway.] [The legal procedures are complete.] [And thank you, Seraphina. Your lawyer said that if I agreed to the divorce, it could happen anytime.] Looking at Seraphina’s messages, it seemed she wanted to go back on her word. Unfortunately, I had no magic pill for regret to offer her. What I wanted, she could never give me again. Knowing Seraphina was still contacting me, my parents looked displeased: “That Seraphina girl really has issues. When you were married, she didn’t bother treating you well, but now that you’re divorced, she’s throwing herself at you.” “Aaron, you need to be more discerning when you choose someone in the future. Looks aren’t important; character is key.” I gave a dry laugh. Actually, my feelings for Seraphina weren’t entirely superficial. She probably didn’t even remember it herself. I pursued her, not because of love at first sight. But because she was the most unique person I’d ever met when I was studying abroad. Back then, Seraphina Smith didn’t have all the prestige she later acquired. Nor was she as cold and distant. I quietly watched her for many years. After graduation, I thought I’d never see her again. Who knew that later, the Smith family suddenly faced misfortune? Seraphina’s parents both died in an accident, and most of the Smith family’s assets were divided among distant relatives. Worried something would happen to her, I rushed to the Smith family mansion that very night. I saw her kneeling before her parents’ memorial tablets. Her eyes were completely hollow. Later, she joined the Church, going to pray devoutly every day. People in our circle laughed, saying she couldn’t handle the blow and would sooner or later be devoured by her relatives, leaving nothing but bones. I told myself I couldn’t just leave her. And so, I stubbornly stayed by her side for many years. Many of the Smith family’s businesses were secretly supported by me. When the Smith family finally got back on their feet, Seraphina also finally accepted my proposal. I thought we would live happily ever after like that. But everything, in the end, was a lie. Seraphina and I, we had no future.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “318040”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn