Category: English

When billionaire Brett Thorne found me, I was literally rolling up my sleeves, about to sell my blood to save my mother. “A hundred million dollars. Have my child, and there’ll be a bonus on top.” He said. Staring at the colossal sum on the agreement, I signed without a moment’s hesitation. A year later, I successfully gave birth to triplets. Gazing at my two adorable baby boys and one girl, tears welled in my eyes as I clutched my bag, ready to leave. Brett grabbed my arm, pulling me back into his embrace. “Chloe, are you really that heartless? You got the money, and now you just want to run?” His reddened eyes confused me. Hadn’t I done everything exactly as the agreement stipulated? But before I could even answer, His childhood sweetheart, Valentina, stormed in, radiating fury. “Sign it. I’ll get your mother the best medical team.” Brett Thorne, the most powerful man in the city, held no warmth in his icy expression as he pushed a document toward me. My body trembled as I read the bold words: *Surrogacy Agreement*. I was twenty-two, single, and had never even held a guy’s hand. But I had no choice. My mother was still in the ICU. I picked up the pen and signed the agreement, gritting my teeth. It’s just one child, right? I’ll just grit my teeth and do it. Seeing my signature, Brett’s cool voice broke the silence. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep this absolutely confidential. After the birth, if you wish to continue your studies, I can send you abroad.” “However, from then on, this child will have nothing to do with you. You mustn’t try to get involved, because I already have someone I love.” He seemed worried about something, emphasizing that last part. I opened my mouth, wanting to ask why, if he had a beloved, he wasn’t having a baby with her. Looking at his deep eyes, his noble and detached expression… well, the world of the super-rich was truly beyond my comprehension. They probably ordered everything on the menu, while I was lucky to afford a single entree. My job was just to take the money and do what was asked. Even though my heart ached a little as I accepted the check, I was still incredibly happy. My mother was saved. No sooner had we settled the details than the doctor informed me that my mother had been transferred to the best monitoring unit, with specialists from New York consulting on her case. I couldn’t help but glance at Brett with gratitude. No wonder he was the city’s richest man; his efficiency was unmatched. My mother’s surgery went smoothly. Brett arranged for two nurses to care for her, and naturally, I returned to his estate with him. That evening, after dinner, I showered and, feeling incredibly nervous, sat on the edge of the bed. My hands were gripping the silk sheets so tightly, they almost shredded into tassels. It wasn’t until Mrs. Davis, the housekeeper, brought in a special health tonic that I learned Brett had gone to see Valentina, his childhood sweetheart. I cautiously asked Mrs. Davis and found out that Brett and Valentina had grown up together. Brett doted on her immensely; she was the “loved one” he’d mentioned. But Valentina, spoiled rotten, had no desire to marry or have children. She had publicly declared her decision to be child-free, as children would interfere with her enjoying life. Brett’s father had a health scare and wanted to see a grandchild soon, but Valentina absolutely refused to marry or have a baby at this time. So, Brett started looking for other options, eventually finding that my genes were the cleanest, and my physical constitution was excellent. I collapsed onto the bed, utterly deflated. I’d actually thought my extraordinary looks had attracted the CEO. Turns out, my reproductive system was just ‘high quality.’ Brett left me alone in the mansion for a week, not appearing once. Meanwhile, Mrs. Davis meticulously prepared a variety of nourishing meals for me every day. Finally, on the eighth evening, I’d showered and was happily lounging in bed, watching a show, when Brett suddenly pushed the door open. “Today is your ovulation period. We can proceed.” Brett entered, immediately taking off his jacket and loosening his tie, while I stared at him in surprise. I’d been enjoying these past few quiet days so much that I’d completely forgotten our arrangement. Brett walked over and gently gripped my chin. I nervously swallowed. That night, there wasn’t a single word exchanged. All I knew was that Brett had incredible stamina, keeping me entangled with him for five intense rounds. By the last time, I was furious. I bit down hard on his shoulder. It was the first time I heard him gasp, uttering a soft reprimand, “Are you a dog? Biting people like that.”

The next day, I woke up, and the sun was already pouring into the room. I clutched my aching lower back as I shuffled to the dining table, eating the toast Mrs. Davis had brought. In my mind, I cursed Brett a thousand times. Did having a baby have to be this torturous? Wasn’t one time enough? He must have felt like he got shortchanged and wanted to make up for it. Just as I was aggressively poking a piece of bread, imagining it was Brett, a shrill voice cut through the front door. “So you’re the little slut who climbed into Brett’s bed?” Before I could even stand up to see her face, she was already in front of me, delivering a sharp slap across my face. “Slut! Don’t play innocent. You just deliberately waited at the hospital, pretending to be pitiful to get Brett’s attention.” I froze, dumbfounded. When did I ever wait at a hospital to seduce Brett? Could I even *seduce* someone like him? I started to get angry. Yesterday, I was exhausted and sore, and this morning, I was greeted with a slap across the face. This was too much. I was a twenty-first-century college student, not their slave. Okay, I admit I felt a little like a slave. Thinking that, I actually teared up from sheer frustration. “Valentina, I don’t know what I did to upset you, but what gives you the right to just barge in and hit me?” Valentina arrogantly tilted her head, her hand raised again. “What gives me the right? The right that Brett is *my* man, and you’re just some shameless hussy?” But the slap didn’t land. Instead, I heard Brett’s urgent voice. “Valentina, stop it!” Brett burst in, grabbed my arm, and pulled me back. “Didn’t we agree? Why are you here, laying hands on her?” Valentina roared back, “Are you actually falling for her? Why did you stay here all night yesterday?” Brett’s gaze darkened, falling on my swollen face. He finally lowered his voice. “I was just too tired yesterday, and I fell asleep.” He then pulled Valentina into his arms. “There, there. It won’t happen again. You know how I feel about you, don’t you? You also know Grandpa’s pushing for a child.” Seeing Brett soften his voice to appease her, Valentina finally smiled, satisfied. “Then I want shrimp, and you have to peel them for me.” Brett nodded, tapping her forehead. “Fine, I’ll peel them. But no more hitting anyone.” “And you’re not allowed to stay here overnight anymore!” The two of them walked out the door, talking. As she stepped through the doorway, Valentina glanced back at me with a mocking, disdainful look, her smile full of arrogant scorn. A sudden pang of sadness hit me, and I couldn’t help but touch my burning cheek. Once upon a time, I was my mother’s precious darling. She’d save both drumsticks for me when she made chicken stew, braid my hair beautifully, and tell me I was the prettiest little princess. That night, Brett didn’t come home. Instead, he sent a pile of gifts: from designer dresses to diamond necklaces and watches. I didn’t feel excited. I just quietly put them away in the closet. I shouldn’t have been upset, but I couldn’t help feeling sad. Sigh. I’d only had two good days, and now I was being melodramatic. It was just a slap and a few insults; it wasn’t a big deal. Thinking that, I touched the damp corner of my eye and asked Mrs. Davis to make me some more chicken soup, which I gobbled down two big bowls of.

Brett returned three days later. He just stared longingly as I drank my chicken soup, not saying a word. I quickly stood up to ladle him a bowl, awkwardly saying, “I made it. If you’re not picky, give it a try.” Brett immediately sat down, took a spoonful, and tasted it. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he chuckled softly. “Not bad at all. It smells delicious.” Mrs. Davis chimed in at just the right moment. “Mr. Thorne, Chloe isn’t just good at soup. Her fish is excellent, and her steaks are even better than mine.” As she spoke, she brought out the fish I had just prepared. Brett, intrigued, picked up a piece of fish with his fork. His eyes narrowed again, and he took several more bites. “Amazing. Better than any five-star restaurant. The meat is tender and full of natural flavor.” I couldn’t help but feel a little proud. “I marinated this fish in aromatics for thirty minutes, making sure to gently scrape off any surface slime. Then I pan-fried it on medium heat for five minutes, added a dash of soy sauce and caramel color, and let it simmer for half a minute before adding water and boiling it rapidly for ten minutes to reduce the sauce.” Perhaps to humor me, Brett actually finished two bowls of rice and two bowls of chicken soup with the fish. That night, after showering, I tucked myself into bed, assuming he’d just digest for a bit and then leave. But moments later, he walked in, wrapped only in a towel. I immediately tensed up, looking at Brett and stammering, “Brett, it’s only been three days. It’s too soon to tell. We need a few more days.” As I spoke, I pulled the blanket tighter and scooted back. Brett didn’t say anything. He just walked to the bed, sat down, gently gripped my chin, and softly stroked my cheek. “Does it still hurt?” “Valentina has been spoiled rotten. Don’t hold it against her.” He then reached out and pulled me into his arms. Feeling the warmth of his chest, my tears suddenly flowed, uncontrollable. Agreeing to be a surrogate for money had already left me tossing and turning every night. And then to be slapped and called a slut, utterly powerless to refute it. These were all facts. Feeling my tears, Brett sighed above my head, then his lips, warm and tender, pressed against mine. He nibbled, little by little, slowly exploring my mouth. Brett gently kissed me again and again, until the breath was completely drawn from my lungs, leaving me gasping for air. This time, Brett once again physically demonstrated his impressive stamina. In my anger, I refused to give in easily, but ultimately, I was defeated and sank into a deep sleep. When I opened my eyes again, it was already bright outside. I turned my head and my eyes widened. “You haven’t gone to the office yet?” Before Brett could answer, Valentina’s furious shout echoed from downstairs. “Brett Thorne, you bastard!” Then came a crash, likely a piece of porcelain breaking in the living room. My beautiful flowers, which I’d just bought yesterday afternoon, were probably ruined. I quickly dressed and got out of bed, like a mistress caught in the act, urging Brett. Before we could even get downstairs, Valentina stormed up. She rushed over, grabbed my hair, threw me to the floor, and then kicked me. This time, I heard Brett’s furious roar. “Valentina, what are you doing?!” Brett said, pulling Valentina away and shielding me behind him. Valentina was enraged. “Brett Thorne, you’re yelling at me for this cheap slut?!” Brett’s face darkened. “Valentina, can you stop being so unreasonable? She’s just having a child for us, and *you agreed to it*.” Valentina threw herself into Brett’s arms, flailing wildly. “Do you really need a child so badly?!” “Brett Thorne, you’re nothing but a stud! You just want to sleep with women! Tell me, are you tired of me? Looking for someone gentler?” As she spoke, she tried to kick me again, over Brett’s shoulder. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to! You cheap sluts who sleep for money always use every seductive trick in the book to lure men like Brett! Have you no shame?!” Seeing her words grow uglier and uglier, Brett pushed her away, roaring, “Valentina, that’s enough! Do you have any class at all?!” Valentina yelped as she fell to the floor, then glared at Brett with a twisted expression. “Brett Thorne, you bastard! You actually hit me for this slut!” “I’m breaking up with you!” With that, she grabbed a high heel and hurled it at Brett, then burst into tears and ran downstairs.

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My daughter, Lily, has a severe peanut allergy. But my brother-in-law, Jax, secretly tricked her into eating peanuts. I didn’t hesitate for a second. I hailed the first car I saw and told the driver, “Hospital, now!” In my previous life, when Lily had an allergic reaction, I frantically called my wife, Serena. Serena had been incredibly reluctant. She was at Jax’s graduation ceremony and only came back after I practically begged. But I never imagined that Jax would encounter assailants on his way home that very night and die on the spot. Serena handled Jax’s funeral with unsettling calm. She just told me he’d had bad luck. The following year, on the anniversary of Jax’s death, Serena poisoned my food. As I lay dying, I heard her venomous voice: “You bastard! You poisoned our daughter just to stop me from going to Jax’s graduation!” “You deserve to die. Go atone for your sins to him!” Lily and I died with our eyes wide open, consumed by injustice. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Lily had her allergic reaction.

I scooped Lily into my arms. This was an emergency; I couldn’t afford to waste a single thought. I rushed her downstairs. Lily’s reaction came on fast. Rashes spread across her body, and she went into shock within minutes. It was the same in my last life. I was completely out of my mind with panic. I immediately called Serena. Serena initially refused to come. She insisted Lily couldn’t possibly have an allergy; it was just a common cold. I begged and pleaded, and she finally, reluctantly, came back. But it was that very decision that led both Lily and me to our demise. This time, I wasn’t going to beg Serena for help. Instead, I flagged down a car on the street. Halfway there, we saw an Audi parked in the emergency lane. Other drivers, hearing there was a patient in our car, gave way, but the Audi remained stubbornly in place. Our driver honked furiously, but the Audi didn’t budge. The driver cursed, “Damn it! This jerk is doing it on purpose!” Sweat poured down my face. Looking at Lily, her face ghostly pale, my heart ached beyond words. All I could do was try some basic first aid on Lily. Just then, my phone rang. It was Serena. “Oh, so you like playing games, huh? Not going to call me this time? Fine, then you can just rot in that car!” I froze. The Audi blocking the emergency lane… it was Serena’s doing. I roared into the phone, “Serena, are you insane?! This is your own daughter! She’s dying! What kind of monster are you?” A cold laugh echoed from the other end. “Hmph, don’t play the victim. You think I don’t know your little schemes? You just want to ruin Jax’s graduation, don’t you? I’m sick of you, Leo!” Jax’s voice then chimed in. “Leo, can’t you just let me have my graduation? I promise, after this, I’ll give Serena back to you.” “You monster!” My whole body trembled with rage. “We’re stuck in the emergency lane because of the car you called! If you have even an ounce of humanity left, move that car, now!” “Don’t give me that crap. You won’t get your way today. I just want you to taste what it’s like to be messed with.” With that, Serena hung up. I stared at the unconscious Lily, my anxiety mounting with every second. The driver anxiously said, “Was that your wife? You need to make her move that car!” I wiped away my tears and called Serena again. But this time, Jax answered. “Leo, Serena’s busy. Just tell me what you need.” “Let her answer the phone.” “Can’t do that. Serena’s very busy.” I screamed, “Tell her to get that Audi moved!” Jax chuckled softly on the other end. “Even more impossible. Serena said if you got out, you’d just come ruin my graduation. You can just stay in the car for a while.” With that, Jax hung up. The driver was already frantic. He was trying to ram the Audi to clear a path. But the Audi was fighting back, reversing hard against us. The driver cursed, “That son of a bitch!” Left with no choice, the driver called the police again, but they were taking forever. My panic reached a fever pitch. “No, this can’t wait! Lily’s condition is critical. If we don’t get her help now, it’ll be too late!” Last time, Lily had made it to the hospital. Was this second chance going to be even worse? I had no other option. I got out of the car, trying to communicate with the Audi driver. I rushed over and knocked on the Audi’s window. The window slowly rolled down, revealing a familiar face. It was Brianna, Serena’s best friend.

“Brianna, please move the car! Lily is in danger right now!” Brianna grinned, shaking her head. I anxiously reached out to pull her, but she suddenly rolled the window back up. My hand was caught, and a scream of pain ripped from my throat. Brianna, with a malicious smirk, said, “What are you doing? Trying to stage an accident?” By now, other drivers were watching the spectacle. Some started speaking up for me. “There’s a patient in the car behind you! Move it!” “Seriously, you’re putting someone’s life at risk!” Brianna suddenly flung open her car door. I lost my balance, stumbled, and fell. She savored the sight of my humiliation, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Everyone, it’s not that I don’t want to move, but this man’s daughter is perfectly fine.” “His daughter just has a common cold. He’s making such a big fuss just to compete with his brother-in-law, using little girl as an excuse.” Brianna’s words hung in the air, and the gazes directed at me were filled with disdain. I couldn’t bother to explain. I tried to pull her, to make her see for herself. She pushed me away with surprising force. “Gross! Don’t touch me. I don’t know why Serena ever married a jealous man like you, jealous even of her own brother!” “No! Lily really is having an allergic reaction! If you don’t believe me, go look!” I couldn’t even get up. I just lay there on the ground, pleading with her. Then, my driver came over. “Ma’am, please move your car! That child looks really unwell, her face is as white as a sheet!” Brianna first frowned, then smiled knowingly. “Wow, I really underestimated you. You even hired someone to act with you.” I looked at Brianna’s unyielding, maliciously speculative face, filled with a mixture of desperate urgency and furious anger. “Brianna, this is a matter of life and death! How can you be so cold-blooded? This is a living, breathing child! Aren’t you afraid of karma?” Most people, after hearing Brianna, still looked at me and the driver with suspicion. Some even started agreeing with Brianna, accusing me of wasting public resources. “People nowadays, making up drama with their daughters over trivial conflicts. Truly disgusting.” “Exactly, it’s outrageous.” Faced with these baseless accusations, my heart was burning with anxiety, yet I was utterly unable to defend myself. Lily was in critical condition in the car. Every second of delay could mean her life. And yet, here I was, trapped in this ridiculous argument with Brianna. The driver anxiously told Brianna, “Ma’am, you’ve really misunderstood. The child looks very serious. Any more delay could be life-threatening.” Perhaps the driver’s expression was too serious, because Brianna started to waver. She quickly called Serena. “What’s going on? Are you sure it’s not an allergy?” “Of course not! I saw Lily coughing this morning when I left. If she had an allergy, how could I leave her?” To convince Brianna, Serena didn’t hesitate to lie. Brianna nodded, satisfied, and hung up. When she turned back to me and the driver, her contempt deepened. “Hmph, you two are quite the double act, very convincing. But I see right through you. You just want to trick me into moving the car. No way!” My emotions completely snapped. I desperately grabbed at Brianna, wanting her to see Lily’s horrifying state with her own eyes. “Go see! See how bad my daughter is!” Brianna stood perfectly still. Just as we were at an impasse, a police car suddenly sped up, sirens wailing. The traffic cops had finally arrived at the scene.

After assessing the situation, the officer sternly told Brianna, “Ma’am, please move your vehicle immediately.” Brianna still tried to argue, pointing at me and the driver. “Officer, these two are ganging up to trick me! They’re saying the child has an allergy, but it’s just a common cold. They’re wasting medical resources!” The officer frowned, then looked at me. My face was streaked with tears. I desperately pleaded, “Officer, please, believe us! My daughter is almost gone. Any later, and it will be too late!” The officer realized the gravity of the situation and ignored Brianna’s nonsense. He decisively directed other officers to forcibly tow the Audi out of the emergency lane. Brianna was also taken away by the police for obstructing traffic. Our car was finally able to move, speeding like a whirlwind towards the hospital. But when we arrived, I received devastating news. The hospital’s allergy emergency equipment was undergoing comprehensive maintenance and was temporarily out of service. This sudden news hit me like a bolt of lightning, plunging me once again into the depths of despair. This hadn’t happened in my previous life. It was Serena. It had to be her. She was one of the investors in this hospital. “How can this be? What about my daughter? She can’t wait!” I gripped the doctor’s arm, my voice cracking with tears. The doctor anxiously said, “I… I don’t know what to do.” I felt like I’d been instantly dragged into the deepest pit of hell. The doctor was also very worried. “We can try some existing basic medications to start initial anti-allergy treatment and alleviate the symptoms, but this is only a temporary measure. The situation is still very critical.” I looked at Lily, unconscious and breathing faintly on the hospital bed. My heart was ablaze with fear, and I could only nod in agreement. The doctors quickly sprang into action, treating Lily with intense focus. During this, I immediately called the relevant department to file a complaint. To make them take it seriously, I lied, saying the hospital was deliberately withholding allergy emergency equipment because I had offended them. The department took it seriously and promised to investigate quickly and give me a response. Receiving that reply, I finally let out a shaky breath. Time ticked by, second by agonizing second, each one feeling like an entire year. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Serena. “How does it feel? Pretty good to be toyed with, huh?” “Why are you doing this? You know Lily has an allergy!” Serena’s low laugh, like a demon’s whisper, came from the other end. “So what? She’s a bastard child. Don’t think I don’t know, she’s not even my kid.” I froze. Lily was conceived through IVF, using Serena’s and my own cells. She was doubting that? No wonder she had been so cruel to Lily and me in my previous life. I anxiously said, “She really is your daughter! Please, you have to save her!” “Shut up, you poisonous husband! Jax already secretly got a paternity test for me. Lily and I have no blood relation whatsoever!” Jax. It was Jax again. Did he really hate Lily and me that much? I clutched my phone, my heart a twisted knot of anger and despair. “Serena, you just believe your brother like that?” “I only believe evidence. Could a paternity test be fake? You and your bastard Lily can just rot!” With that, she hung up. I slumped to the ground, overcome with grief. Just then, the doctor hurried out of the emergency room. The doctor’s face was grim. “The child’s condition is very critical. If we don’t get allergy emergency equipment soon, it’s possible…” The doctor didn’t finish, but I understood his unspoken words. Just as I was about to sink into utter despair, my phone abruptly rang again.

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I was the fake heir. When the real one was found, he was thin and dark. My parents felt so bad for him they immediately offered compensation. But he said, “I’m their biological son. If you’re going to compensate, just give me the company!” My whole family tried to persuade me: “You’re not their real son after all. It’s time to give him back his place.” I smiled, nodded, and handed everything over. The very next day, the company’s biggest client, the core technical team, and all channel partners announced they would *only* work with me personally. My parents panicked, rushing over to beg me. I crossed my arms. “Tell that real heir to come beg me, the ’employee,’ to come back.” When Justin was found, he stood in the living room, looking timid. At that moment, I had just finalized a major deal with MC. On the way home, my assistant, Liam, had told me the family’s biological son had been found. My heart hammered, then settled. *They found him? Good, we’ll raise him well. We’ve got plenty of money.* But I never expected that when the real heir saw me, the timidity in his eyes would suddenly morph into raw jealousy. “I’ll come back, but he’s taken my place for so long, it’s time he gave it back!” “I don’t want anything else, just the company!” I just laughed. “I’ve managed the family business for ten years. Are you sure you can handle it?” My dismissive tone was too obvious. He flushed with anger, his voice rising. “I can learn! If I’d grown up here, I wouldn’t be any worse than you!” My relatives also tried to persuade me. “Alex, just give it to him. He’s the real son after all!” I looked at my parents. My dad, Robert, spoke with difficulty. “Alex, we owe him. Justin has had a really tough life these past years.” My mom, Sarah, was hugging Justin, weeping. “Those damn kidnappers sold him to some village! If we hadn’t found him, Justin might have been lost forever…” “Alex, just agree. Mom won’t treat you badly!” Watching them, I smiled. “Alright!” I agreed. I’d hand everything over to them. I had thought that even if the family’s biological son returned, I’d continue to be myself. I never intended to fight him for anything. I even felt sorry for him and bought him gifts. But I never expected to face this situation upon his return. Compensation, huh? Fine, I don’t want any of it. Right then and there, I had Liam draft the handover documents. I signed everything over to Justin. Justin practically vibrated with excitement, clutching the company papers, then throwing himself into Mom’s arms. I took a deep breath. “It’s all done. If there’s nothing else, I’m heading upstairs to rest.” Mom finally looked up. “Justin just got back. We should all have dinner together, as a family!” “I’m tired. I don’t feel like eating.” “Are you saying you don’t want to see me, Alex? I just got back, and you’re already treating me like this!” Justin’s eyes were red as he stared at me. Mom looked annoyed. “Alex! How can you be so insensitive!” I said calmly, “I just got back from a twenty-hour flight. I’m pretty exhausted. And I haven’t adjusted to the jet lag yet.” Hearing that, she finally remembered I was indeed just back from a business trip. Seeing my bloodshot eyes, she looked a little awkward. I ignored the sounds downstairs and went straight up. But the family group chat on SnapChat kept buzzing with new messages. I showered and glanced at my phone, a cold laugh bubbling up inside me. “Justin’s back! When is Alex throwing a party? This is huge for our family!” “Yeah, it should be a big one! And they can announce the company news at the same time. Oh, by the way, Alex shouldn’t be living at home anymore, right? And what about his engagement? Should that be reconsidered too?” I didn’t care about the others taking cheap shots, but that last message, I couldn’t ignore it. I wasn’t the family heir anymore, so what would Victoria’s stance be? The group chat kept refreshing, endlessly. I found it boring and just left the chat. According to them, I wasn’t family anymore, so I had no place in the group. I left on my own, saving them the trouble. But I still needed to clarify things with Victoria. The next morning, Justin went out with Mom and Dad. I packed a few clothes, planning to move into my own place.

Victoria asked me to meet her. “Alex, there’s a problem with our engagement.” Victoria and I had known each other for over ten years. As soon as she said that, I knew exactly what she meant. I spoke calmly into the phone. “I hear I’m not the heir anymore, so you want to call off the engagement?” She was silent. Those ten seconds of silence told me everything. “Alright, but ending an engagement isn’t something we can just decide between ourselves. Both families need to discuss it, don’t you think?” After a long pause, she simply said, “Okay.” After hanging up, I let out a long breath, feeling a sense of relief. For ten years, I’d dedicated everything to this family, bringing the company to new heights. Our engagement was also a strategic alliance, where we both got what we needed. I considered myself a pretty good fiancé, and Victoria and I generally got along well. We had an unspoken understanding, always protecting each other’s image in public. I thought Victoria and I had a genuine connection, but I never expected that a change in my status would quickly turn us into this. I took a deep breath and shook my head. After getting all my things sorted, I was about to leave when I found Justin and the others had returned. Money truly is a good thing. Justin, who had been timid yesterday, was now dressed in a sharp suit, looking like a completely different person. His skin was still a bit dark, but a few weeks of pampering would fix that. Seeing me with my bag, about to leave, Justin looked startled. “Are you leaving, Alex?” I nodded. “It’s not very convenient for me to stay here.” “You’re leaving the moment I return? Are you upset with me?” Mom’s face clouded over. “Alex, what’s gotten into you? Justin just gets back, and you’re giving everyone attitude!” “Sarah, let’s be real. Weren’t you all discussing kicking me out in the group chat yesterday? Am I doing something wrong by simply following your wishes now?” At my words, her face immediately froze. “I… they were just talking nonsense. That’s not what they meant. The family can still support you. Are you trying to drag our reputation through the mud by doing this?” I smiled. “If not, why were you consulting with Victoria?” “Victoria already proposed ending our engagement today. I’m giving everything back to you. Moving out now is exactly what you want, isn’t it? Unless you want outsiders to say our family has two sons, even though you didn’t give birth to twins.” My words clearly rattled her. She swayed slightly. Justin, standing nearby, piped up, “Alex, why are you talking like this? Mom means well!” “But Alex, the place you’re going to live is still paid for by the family. If you really want to cut ties, you can’t…” I stopped, turning to face him directly. My presence hardened, and a cold aura radiated from me, immediately making him shut up. “The money Alex earns, *I* decide what happens to it. Whether I relied on the family or the family relied on me, it doesn’t matter if you don’t understand. I’ll have someone teach you properly later!” With that, I walked out. Mom called after me from behind. “Alex! Alex!” I didn’t flinch. Today they forced my hand. Soon enough, they would be begging me. But I hadn’t expected my dad, Robert, to call me the moment I left. “Alex, they don’t understand, and neither do you. Let’s leave some dignity for everyone involved. Don’t make a scene, okay?” “Tomorrow is Justin’s party. You *must* come.” I just smiled, saying nothing. Liam, my assistant, heard I’d left the family and immediately followed me. “Mr. Lee, we’ll go wherever you go.” 3. Everyone in my team also pledged their support. Justin didn’t know that the reason the family could stand strong in this region wasn’t their so-called long-standing reputation, but *me*, Alex. Still, I had to attend his party. The family spared no expense for the party, holding it at the luxurious Grandwood Estate. All the prominent figures were there, and so was I. Upon arriving, I saw a few of the rich kids I used to socialize with, their faces twisted with a sneer. “Alex? You actually have the nerve to show up! Kicked out by your own family, and you’re still trying to act high and mighty? Aren’t you embarrassed!” “Exactly! This party is such a huge affair, clearly for the real heir. And look at you, all those years of hard work, now you have nothing!” “Why don’t you beg me? Maybe I can give you a job. Our company just happens to need a doorman. You’re not bad-looking, you can stand there. How about eight grand a month?” I scanned them, scoffing. “No wonder your families would rather keep their illegitimate children outside than let *you* take over the company!” The moment I said that, they flushed with anger and were about to rush me when Justin appeared. They immediately quieted down. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedules to attend our party. We’ve finally found our long-lost son, Justin! From now on, we will fully compensate Justin!” Justin, dressed in a sharp suit, slowly walked onto the stage. After just a few days, he was visibly more ‘regal.’ His forced posture, however, made him look a bit awkward, like his head was too heavy for his body. Meeting my gaze, Justin puffed out his chest. “Although Alex isn’t our biological son, he’s been with the company for many years, and I’m willing to let him continue working there.” “Alex, stop being angry with Mom and Dad!” The moment Justin said that, everyone around turned to look at me, their eyes full of mockery and disdain. I curled my lips into a smile. “No thanks. I’m not short on cash.” “Alex really isn’t short on cash. Unlike me, who had a terrible life when I was out there, but I never gave up on learning.” “Alex, if possible, I hope you can stay on, even if it’s just working for *me*!” Mom and Dad also came to my side. “Alex, I won’t argue with you about moving out, but your brother is right. The family raised you for so many years, it’s time for you to give back.” I raised an eyebrow. “In ten years, I transformed this family from a prominent family into a top-tier powerhouse. Do you think I haven’t given back enough?” “Work for you? I, Alex, only work for myself. If a boss can’t handle me, they shouldn’t expect me to work my butt off for them. *You* taught me that, Mr. Robert!” At my words, Dad’s face turned ashen. The relatives nearby murmured, their voices dripping with sarcasm. “Look at how arrogant he is, still acting like the eldest son!” “Without the family, what is he? How dare he talk big!” “Justin, I think you’re just too soft. Kick him out sooner! He’s occupied your place for so long and still shows no gratitude!” Justin stood high and mighty, his eyes full of triumph. I smiled. *This idiot actually thinks these people genuinely care about him?* I scoffed. “You don’t need to kick me out. I’ll leave. But you need to remember, the moment I walk out that door today, from now on, I have no connection to this family whatsoever!” “Alex!” Dad was furious, but then he sighed. “Don’t blame us for being heartless. Your temper needs to be reined in.” “Alright then. Go ahead and announce it. Publicly acknowledge that Justin is the one in power!” “I’m out!” With that, I turned and walked away, immediately sending out a message that I was cutting all ties with the family. Seeing me leave, Justin got angry. “Dad, Alex is being too petty, isn’t he? He…” Before he could finish, Robert’s phone rang. Not just his, but cell phones across the room started ringing, one after another. “What?! MC only recognizes Alex?! The contract is void!”

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When I was five, I begged my sister to fly a kite. The wind took it from me. Then, the string cut her throat. At the funeral, my parents’ grief turned on me. “I just wanted to play with her,” I sobbed, struggling to explain. “I didn’t know it would happen.” From that day on, my parents despised me. Years later, when my school announced a kite festival, my mother snapped. “You killer! My daughter is dead because of your kites! You love them so much? Fine. Fly one. Fly it until you break!” She drove me twenty miles into the empty, wind-whipped fields outside the city and thrust the kite into my hands. But she forgot. The forecast had issued a severe storm warning for today. Mom’s car disappeared from my sight. I stood alone, the kite in my hands, and began to run. The wind wasn’t strong enough. It would catch the kite, only to let it fall, sending it crashing to the ground again and again. On the seventh try, it finally caught a steady current and lurched into the sky. II anchored the spool under a heavy stone, then sat on the hard ground, drew my knees to my chest, and looked up. The kite danced on the wind. “Fly high,” I whispered, my voice lost in the gathering gale. “If you see Lily… tell her I miss her.” After Lily’s death, the word “kite” became a taboo in our house. A mere shadow of one on TV was enough. My mother would seize up, then explode, shoving me toward the door. “Out! Go fly your kite, you family-wrecker!” In her eyes, I wasn’t her daughter. I was the sin. Lily’s killer. The wind’s howl deepened into a roar. The sky cracked open, releasing a barrage of fat, icy raindrops. The kite string sang a high, desperate note as it strained. The stone anchoring the spool tumbled away. “No!” I dove for it, a raw instinct to obey overriding all sense. If I lost the kite, Mom would be even angrier with me! Just as my fingertips were about to touch it, a searing, blinding pain exploded. “Ah!” Seconds later, warm, sticky liquid gushed out, quickly coating half my face. The world in my left eye turned blood-red and blurry. Clutching my eye, I trembled with pain, my voice torn to shreds by the wind and rain. “It hurts… Help me…” I stumbled through the mud, blind and disoriented. Rain mixed with blood flowed into my mouth, tasting salty and metallic. My hands clawed. At nothing. There was nothing to hold. Then my back connected with something unyielding with a sickening crunch. The world jolted to a halt. Then, a sharp, piercing pain, so intense it swallowed all the agony I’d felt before, erupted through me. I don’t know how much time passed, but I found myself floating, light as a feather, out of that broken, lifeless body. I looked down at the body on the ground. My body. So, I was dead. The downpour continued, washing over my small body and the bloodstains on the rock. It’s good to be dead. I won’t have to walk home, tired and slow, anymore. As soon as I floated home, I saw Mom and Dad eating dinner. First, I heard Mom’s shrill voice. “Pick her up? Let her die! Doesn’t she love flying kites in this kind of weather?” Dad hesitated. “But the rain is too heavy.” “Heavy?” Mom slammed her forks down. “If she hadn’t insisted on taking Lily to fly a kite, my Lily wouldn’t be dead! She’s a murderer! Why couldn’t it have been her who died instead?” I wanted to tell Mom that I didn’t know the wind would get so strong. If I had known, I would never have dragged Lily there… But Mom couldn’t hear me. Her gaze flickered to my school uniform, which had fallen from the couch to the floor. Her pupils constricted, as if she’d seen something filthy. She rushed over, grabbed the uniform, and furiously threw it to the ground, stomping on it like a madwoman. “You curse! Why didn’t you die instead?!” Dad quickly went to pull her back. “Alright, alright, don’t get yourself sick over her. She’s not worth it.” “The weather forecast said a storm today. You stay home, I’ll go pick her up.” Mom gasped, her chest heaving violently. She looked at the uniform on the floor, her eyes filled with chilling hatred. “Go get her? Absolutely not! I forbid it! She managed to crawl back once, didn’t she? Let her find her own way this time!” “If she dies out there… it’s justice. A life for a life. Let it be her atonement.” Dad’s gaze shifted from Mom to the window. A slow, defeated nod was his only answer. “Okay, I won’t go.” Curled in my corner, I heard them. And a new kind of pain bloomed in whatever was left of me-a pain sharper than the kite string, deeper than the steel bar. Mom. You got your wish. I really did die out there. Is the debt paid now? Is Lily avenged?

The next morning, after breakfast, Mom picked up a velvet cloth and began wiping Lily’s photo frame. The yard, a wreck after the storm, she swept with a cold glance. “So many leaves blown off. Let’s go clean up for Lily, she loved things spotless.” Dad chewed his breakfast, mumbling vaguely. “Okay.” I floated after them to the cemetery outside the city. This was the first time I was “allowed” to see Lily, and only as a ghost. Before, Mom would always yell at me. “You grim reaper, you don’t deserve to be near Lily!” In the photo, Lily smiled sweetly, looking well-behaved and lovely. Mom always said that when Lily was my age, she was so well-behaved she never caused a moment of worry. I gently pressed against the cold photograph. “Lily, Chloe is dead too. Now… I can be with you forever.” Mom’s face pressed against the cold tombstone steps. She seemed to use all her strength, crying out loud. “Lily, my precious daughter, Mom misses you so much!” “It’s all Mom’s fault for not protecting you, letting that evil spirit harm you!” “If only that troublemaker had died instead!” Dad stood beside her, silently looking at Lily’s photo, his eyes slightly red. He rarely showed emotion, but I knew he missed Lily too. I floated to Mom’s side, watching her shoulders tremble violently. My heart ached as if a large hand was squeezing it tight. I reached out my transparent hand, wanting to wipe away her tears, but I couldn’t touch her. Mom, please don’t cry. Chloe knows she made a mistake. I’ll never fly a kite again. Look, I’m very good now. I’ll never… make you angry again. Back home, Mom sat on the couch, hugging Lily’s photo frame, her beautiful eyes red and swollen. Dad poured her a cup of hot water. He looked at my still-empty room, his brows slightly furrowed. “The rain was so heavy last night. I wonder where she’s hiding.” Mom excitedly interrupted him, clutching the photo frame even tighter. “Why worry about her? She’s just hiding on purpose to make us worry!” “She’s always known how to play the victim since she was little. She’s not even worth a single strand of Lily’s hair!” Dad opened his mouth but finally stayed silent. Maybe he was just a little worried about me. When Lily first passed away, Mom would have an emotional breakdown whenever she saw me, demanding that I pay for Lily’s life. Back then, Dad would still shield me, gently and rationally telling Mom. “Chloe is just a child, she didn’t know this would happen.” As Mom’s depression worsened and her outbursts became more frequent, Dad gradually stopped defending me or speaking up for me. Sometimes he would even join Mom in blaming me. But I knew it wasn’t Mom and Dad’s fault, because I also felt it was all my fault. Another day passed. Mom was wiping Lily’s photo frame when she suddenly scoffed. “Chloe is really determined to go against us.” Dad agreed without hesitation. “Yeah, she’s getting more and more disobedient. She’ll come back after missing a couple of meals.” They were convinced that I was being willful and throwing a tantrum. But how I wished I could tell them. I wasn’t willful, and I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I just couldn’t come back. My body was still on that cold hillside, with that hard rock, slowly decaying, turning into trash.

Evening fell. I still wasn’t home. My parents sat in the living room. They were braced for a dirty, trembling figure begging at the door. But she never showed up. Dad went to the balcony to call a friend from the village. I drifted behind him, a silent ghost. His friend’s voice came through, earnest and clear. He’d asked around, but no one had seen any child enter the village in the last two days.. When he hung up and walked back inside, Mom hadn’t moved from the couch. Her face was the colour of ash. “Well?” Dad lit a cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled gray smoke rings. “No one’s seen her.” Mom crossed her arms, fuming. “Good for Chloe! She’s got nerve now! Does she want to drive us all crazy before she’s satisfied?!” Dad let out an almost imperceptible sigh and flicked his cigarette ash. “It’s probably like last time, she’s afraid you’ll scold her, so she’s hiding at a friend’s house.” Last time, Mom also abandoned me in the suburbs to fly a kite. Coincidentally, my friend’s dad brought her to fish. On their way back, they gave me a ride home. Because it was so late, I stayed at my friend’s house overnight. The next day, when I came home, I was met with Mom’s fierce wrath. “Now you’ve started staying out all night? So shameless at such a young age!” She made me kneel all night until Dad returned from his business trip. My knees were so swollen I couldn’t stand. Mom’s voice suddenly rose, sharp and grating, after hearing Dad’s words. “Afraid I’ll scold her? Was I wrong to scold her?! She deserves it!” “If it weren’t for her, Lily wouldn’t be dead? How else would our family have ended up like this?!” Dad remained silent, just holding Mom’s hand, caressing it to comfort her. I floated in the air, softly saying. “Mom, I’m sorry.” “Chloe wants to come home too. Will you come look for me at the hillside where I flew the kite, please?” “Bring Chloe home.” But they couldn’t hear me. Mom finally gritted her teeth and made her decision. “Since she’s so rebellious, let’s just ignore her!” “I’d like to see how long this brat can fight against us!” Dad nodded softly. Once again, they reached a consensus to ignore me. Another two days passed. Spring break had ended, and I still hadn’t returned. The house was eerily quiet. Mom never mentioned me. Dad looked at the newspaper but hadn’t turned a page in a long time. Just then, Dad’s phone rang. It was Ms. Davies, my teacher. He put the phone on speaker and set it on the table. “Mr. Miller, Chloe wasn’t in school today. Is everything all right?” Dad opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Mom snatched the phone, her tone flat. “Chloe decided to play hooky. Thank you for your concern.” Ms. Davies was silent for a moment, then instinctively defended me. “Chloe has always been a model student, she’s never-” Ms. Davies. ” Mom’s voice cut across hers, sharp with the venom of long-held grievance. “You’ve been taken in. Chloe is a manipulator.” “She’s never given me a moment of peace since she was little. She’s spoiled and selfish. And she killed my Lily!” “My sweet, perfect Lily is dead because of her.” Ms. Davies sighed. “I heard about what happened with Lily. It was just an accident.” “She was the one who pulled Chloe to fly the kite. No one can predict the weather, so it really wasn’t Chloe’s fault.” Hearing Ms. Davies’ words, I was stunned. So it was Lily who had asked me to go. My blurry memories suddenly became clear. Back then, school had assigned us a kite-making project. Lily burst into my room, her face alight, clutching the butterfly kite she’d painted herself. Mom stood in the doorway, watching us with a soft smile. Later on the hill, Mom got a call, and after reminding Lily to look after me, she left. So, when the storm came, Lily held me tightly in her arms. But the kite string wrapped around her own neck… My mother’s voice, raw and vicious, shattered the memory.Her face was twisted with rage. “Chloe is my daughter. You think you know her? My Lily was an angel. Only Chloe would be so reckless!” “So reckless that she’s been gone for seven days!” Ms. Davies was astonished. “Victoria, your daughter hasn’t been home for seven days, and you’re not worried?” Mom snorted. “What’s there to worry about? She just doesn’t want to come back to school. It’d be best if she died out there!” On the other end of the phone, Ms. Davies was silent for a moment, then her voice, barely containing her anger, said. “Your child hasn’t been home for seven days, and you haven’t even looked for her? What kind of parents are you?” “If Chloe isn’t back in school tomorrow, I will report it to the school and call the police.” With that, she hung up. Mom and Dad stared at each other, disbelieving. “She’s just a pathetic teacher! Who does she think she’s scaring?” Dad thought for a moment, then still pulled the grumbling Mom and drove to the suburbs. The setting sun cast its last golden rays on that familiar hillside. And my body was still there, waiting.

Dad walked up the hillside, calling my name loudly. “Chloe!” “Stop hiding! Come home with Mom and Dad! We won’t be angry with you!” Mom also yelled. “Chloe! Enough of your games! Get out here this instant!” “If you don’t show yourself, I swear I will cut you out of this family for good!” Their shouts echoed hollowly in the valley, but there was no response. Mom, Dad…I’m right here. I can’t come out. Please don’t cast me out… Dad looked down and saw the kite spool lying on the ground again. He frowned, a vague sense of annoyance making him kick it away, muttering. “Always playing around! Never gives us a moment’s peace!” Mom wasn’t feeling well, so Dad let her rest where she was and went to search the hillside himself. He suddenly stopped, sniffing hard. A faint, indescribable smell of decay, carried by the wind, wafted intermittently up from below the hillside. He instinctively pinched his nose, a look of disgust on his face, and mumbled. “These villagers have no manners, throwing whatever dead things down the slope. It stinks!” He was hesitating whether to brave the stench and search down the slope. Just then, Mom screamed from behind him. Dad looked back, anxiously asking. “Victoria, what’s wrong?” Mom’s voice came from up the slope, laced with her usual impatience. “Did you find her? Where is she hiding and playing dead? I got bitten by ants!” “Does she really expect us to get on our knees and beg her before she’ll come back?!” Dad looked at the steep slope, smelled the unpleasant odor, and finally backed down. He turned to Mom, his face a mask of guilt. “No, I’ve looked everywhere. She’s probably not here.” “She might really have gone to a friend’s or relative’s house. Let’s go back and call around.” He turned, quickly pulled Mom to the car, and they left. Another day passed. I had been dead for over a week. The house was eerily quiet, the air seemingly frozen. Dad didn’t go to work. He sat on the couch, staring out the window, unconsciously fiddling with the remote control. Ms. Davies sent my parents the class yearbook she had made. Mom picked up her phone, opened the yearbook, and aimlessly scrolled through it. Finally, her finger stopped on a photo. It was a picture she had casually taken of me that day she left me in the suburbs. In the photo, I was holding the kite, a hopeful, pleading smile on my face. After a moment of silence, she slammed the phone onto the table. “How can this brat be so cruel?!” “She’s the one who killed my Lily, and now she’s throwing a tantrum and disappearing?” “Does she want to push me to jump off a building before she’s satisfied?!” Dad tried to say something, but his phone rang at that exact moment. He picked it up, annoyed, but then saw an unfamiliar local number and a glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes. Dad turned to Mon. “Maybe it’s Chloe, calling from another phone!” Mom snorted. “Well, answer it! I want to hear how Chloe begs for forgiveness!” His hand trembled as he fumbled for the answer button. The voice that came through was calm, measured, professional. “Hello, is this David Miller, Chloe’s father?” “Yes, speaking.” Dad quickly replied. “Sir, this is the police. We’ve recovered the body of a young girl in the southern outskirts, near Everbrook Village.” “Based on our preliminary examination and identification, we have confirmed the deceased is your daughter, Chloe Miller.”

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I came home early from a business trip, only to find a purple nightgown on my bed. Slinky. Sexy. Definitely not mine. I demanded my husband give me an explanation. Jake exploded, slapping me hard across the face. “You’re questioning me? I’ll kill you, you bitch!” His parents, Robert and Judy, glared at me with disgust. “How did Jake ever marry a woman like you? Get out of our house, now!” Stunned, my cheek burning, I stumbled away and called my parents, sobbing. “Jake cheated! I found a purple nightgown. I’m going to find its owner and take Jake for everything !” The line went quiet. Then, my always-doting father’s voice came through, icy and final.”Don’t you dare dig into this. Forget the purple nightgown, or you’re no longer part of this family.” I was heartbroken and utterly bewildered. Why did the mere mention of a purple nightgown turn everyone I knew into a stranger? Just who the hell was Jake’s mistress? A sharp, stinging heat bloomed across my cheek. Then, a wave of pure rage. Clutching my cheek, my voice trembled with white-hot fury. “You cheat. You lie. And now you raise your hand to me?” Jake’s face was cold. “You’re accusing me? Where’s your proof?” I snatched the sexy purple nightgown from the the sheets and flung it at him. “That’s my proof! I hate purple! I have never, ever worn anything like that in my life!” Jake merely glanced at it, and his expression instantly turned furious. “You bitch! You shouldn’t have touched that!” His body coiled, and he lunged. The noise finally crashed through the door. Robert and Judy burst in, their faces going slack with horror at the scene. Robert lunged forward, hauling Jake back by the shoulders. Judy threw herself between us, her body a shield in front of mine. “Jake, what are you doing?!” Judy’s voice was filled with absolute fury. I’d been married to Jake for three years, and they had always treated me like their own daughter. The tears I’d been choking on poured out in ragged sobs. Judy hugged me, constantly reassuring me. “Maya, don’t worry. We’ll make sure you get justice.” Robert also angrily declared, “You have one chance, Jake. Explain yourself. Or I will deal with you myself!” Jake looked at me with pure disgust. “This is all her fault.” I wiped my tears, my gaze locking onto Jake’s with pure hate. “You’re the one who cheated! And when I caught you, you hit me!” I picked up the purple nightgown and showed it to them. “This is the proof. That mistress left her clothes on our bed.If my flight hadn’t been moved up, I’d still be living in his lie.” Their eyes fell on the purple nightgown. And something in the air shattered. Judy violently shoved me to the floor. Her gentle demeanor vanished, and she pointed at me, screaming. “We must have been blind to let a scourge like you into our family!” Robert also loomed over me, his expression cold and utterly disgusted. “Jake, divorce Maya right now and get her out of here!” I was completely dumbfounded. Jake was the one who cheated, so how dare they treat me like this? It was clear their act as loving in-laws was just that-an act. Now their true colors were showing. My hands trembled with anger. “Fine, divorce then! I’ll make sure that scum, Jake, leaves with absolutely nothing!” Jake’s expression was dismissive. “We’ll see who leaves with nothing.” His parents also looked at me like I was a clown. Embarrassed, I clenched my fists. My phone suddenly rang. It was a FaceTime call from my mom. My parents, David and Brenda, were known everywhere as incredibly doting parents. They had loved me fiercely since I was little. If they knew Jake cheated and hit me, they’d be furious enough to come over and tear him apart. “Maya, are you and Jake coming over this weekend? Mom will make your favorite steak.” My eyes welled up, and tears began to fall again. “Mom, I’m divorcing Jake!” The next second, my dad snatched the phone, his voice anxious and furious. “Did Jake hurt you? Don’t cry, Maya! Dad will make things right!” I choked back tears. “Jake cheated and hit me, Dad, Mom. I have to divorce him.” A sudden silence fell on the other end of the video call. My dad’s expression instantly turned cold and distant. “No, you can’t divorce Jake!”

My breath hitched in my throat. “Jake cheated! I found a purple nightgown on his bed-” My mom quickly cut me off before I could finish. “Maybe that nightgown is yours, and you just forgot. You’ve always been so forgetful, buying clothes and never wearing them.” “Alright, Maya, let’s not talk about this anymore. Jake is so good to you, he couldn’t possibly cheat. Stop making a fuss.” Across from me, Jake and his parents looked at me with increasingly mocking eyes. I desperately tried to explain, “But you know I hate purple! That nightgown absolutely cannot be mine-” “Enough!” My mom, usually so gentle and who had never said a harsh word to me, suddenly erupted. “Have I not been clear enough?” Her eyes were sharp, brittle with disappointment. “ Stop talking about that nightgown!” I fell silent, the words dying in my throat.A sickening cocktail of panic, helplessness, and betrayal churned inside me. I could only watch as my dad forced a fawning smile, speaking in a somewhat servile tone to Jake and his parents. “Please, forgive Maya’s nonsense. Young couples… they fight. It’s their business. We shouldn’t meddle.” Robert and Judy scoffed imperiously. “‘Their business’? Our son was gracious enough to marry her. And this is her repayment? Threatening to take him for everything? The only problem here is your daughter’s shameless greed.” My dad repeatedly apologized. “We’re really sorry about that. Maya, apologize to your in-laws and Jake right now.” I snapped my head up, staring at them in disbelief. “You want me to apologize? Why should I apologize?!” Jake was clearly the one who cheated. It was bad enough that Robert and Judy were biased towards Jake, but why were my incredibly loving parents not standing up for me? Why were they forcing me to apologize to Jake’s family? They were the ones in the wrong! I was furious and heartbroken, my rage almost burning away my reason. On the other end of the phone, my mom’s face suddenly darkened. “Maya, be sensible. We are doing this for your own good. You’re just being paranoid and misunderstanding Jake. Apologize now.” I felt as if someone had choked me, my heart sinking straight to the bottom. I struggled to utter a few words. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” Both my mom and dad looked deeply disappointed, as if I had done something utterly outrageous. “We’ll come by this weekend to apologize properly. Maya is still young and impulsive. We ask for your understanding.” The video call ended, but I couldn’t snap out of it for a long time. Jake and his parents seemed to want nothing to do with me, slamming doors as they left. Judy even gave me a warning as she walked out. “Throw that nightgown away! If it’s still there when I get back, this divorce is happening, even if your parents beg us on their knees!” My chest felt tight with indignation and anger, so I called my best friend, Chloe. When she heard I was upset, she took time off work without a second thought to be with me. After I told her everything, Chloe was fuming. “Why aren’t your parents letting you divorce him? That scum, Jake, should absolutely be stripped of everything! Maya, I support you. You *have* to divorce him!” “By the way, how did you find out Jake was cheating?” I frowned, about to mention the purple nightgown, when my in-laws’ and parents’ strange reactions suddenly flashed through my mind. The words died in my throat. “Come on, tell me! Are you going to keep secrets from me too?” Meeting Chloe’s expectant gaze, I drew a shaky breath and began. “Because I found a purple nightgown on my bed.” Instantly, all the color drained from Chloe’s face.

Her eyes flickered, and her earlier righteous anger vanished without a trace. “Purple?” She forced an awkward laugh. “Could you be mistaken? Jake is a good husband; how could he possibly cheat? Hahaha, you must be joking with me, right?” I grabbed her shoulders, both angry and frustrated. “I’m not joking! Jake really cheated, how could I lie to you about something like this?” “Why won’t any of you believe me? I have to find out who Jake’s mistress is, and I *will* divorce him!” Chloe fell silent. After a long moment, she lowered her head and began to persuade me, her voice low. “Let it go, Maya. This nightgown might just be a misunderstanding. Live happily with Jake, and don’t investigate whose purple nightgown it is anymore.” I stared at her, stunned. Chloe was someone with zero tolerance for emotional betrayal. Just a month ago, her childhood sweetheart of ten years, Daniel, had flirted online with an influencer, and she broke up with him without a word when she found out. No matter how much Daniel knelt, apologized, and swore never to do it again, she refused to turn back. At the time, I even tried to reason with her. “It was just online flirting, Daniel didn’t actually cheat. You’ve been together for ten years and even discussed marriage. Are you really not going to give Daniel a single chance?” Chloe, though sad, had shaken her head firmly. “Emotional cheating is as disgusting as physical cheating, Maya. Don’t believe those tears and apologies from cheaters, it’s all an act.” But in just one short month, she was now urging me to pretend I didn’t know Jake had physically cheated and to continue living happily with him. I took a deep breath. “Why? Why does everyone’s attitude change so drastically when they hear about the purple nightgown? Do you know who Jake’s mistress is?” Chloe’s eyes darted around, looking even more guilty. “How would I know? But Maya, trust me, your parents and I are doing this for your own good. Can you please just drop this?” A hint of pleading even entered Chloe’s eyes. I brushed her hand away directly. “I misjudged you. Just leave.” Chloe looked like she wanted to say more, but eventually left, looking worried. I picked up the unfamiliar purple nightgown again, staring at it for a long time. My inner doubts grew stronger, gradually overwhelming my burgeoning anger. Whose purple nightgown was this? Why was everyone so tight-lipped about it? I made a firm decision in my heart: I had to personally find the owner of this purple nightgown. Then, I didn’t believe my parents would continue to oppose my divorce from Jake. While everyone was out, I immediately contacted someone to secretly install cameras in the house. And, using the excuse of a cold shoulder, I checked into a hotel, giving Jake space for his affair. That night, I lay in the hotel bed, opening the surveillance video on my phone. A woman in a sexy purple nightgown was intimately with Jake on my marital bed. My eyes instantly widened.

I tried my best to see the woman’s face, but Jake kept blocking her. I could only see that hateful shade of purple. But that was enough. With this surveillance video, Jake’s infidelity was undeniable. This weekend, I would throw this video in Jake’s and his parents’ faces. My anticipated weekend quickly arrived. Jake and my in-laws still glared at me. The three of them even put on an arrogant front when my parents arrived, sitting haughtily on the sofa, waiting for my parents’ “apology.” My parents came bearing expensive gifts. Though clearly embarrassed by the blatant humiliation, they forced smiles. “Everything before was Maya being foolish. We apologize on her behalf.” Seeing my parents’ humble demeanor, my eyes instantly welled up, and I pulled them both up. “I’m not wrong! Why should we apologize? Jake is the one at fault, they should be the ones apologizing to us!” As I spoke, I pulled out my phone and started playing the surveillance footage. “I have surveillance video here. Now can you believe that Jake cheated with the woman in the purple nightgown?” The video began to play, and suggestive moans echoed through the living room. Everyone in the room’s face changed drastically. I smirked at Jake, about to speak, when a sharp pain shot through my wrist. My phone was snatched and slammed to the ground. The screen instantly went black, and the moans stopped abruptly. Before I could even react, my dad suddenly raised his hand and slapped me hard. “Filming such a video, have you no shame?!” He stormed into the bedroom like a raging bull and smashed the camera I had installed to pieces. “Dad, why?” I clutched my cheek, filled with disbelief. My mom gripped my shoulders tightly, her eyes filled with disappointment and agonizing struggle. “Why didn’t you listen? Why did you insist on investigating that purple nightgown? Now look, our entire family will become a laughingstock because of you!” “You are not to investigate this any further! If you don’t repent, your dad and I will disown you!” In that moment, they both stood on the same side as Jake and his parents. The air solidified, and I felt like I was suffocating. My head throbbed with a thousand tiny needles. I bent down, picked up my phone from the floor, and stumbled out of that suffocating cage. After getting my phone restored, I discovered the truth. They’d installed not just one camera in the bedroom, but several. The harder they tried to stop me, the more I was determined to dig up the truth! I tapped open the surveillance video and immediately saw the woman in the purple nightgown on my bed. From that angle, her face remained unseen. I frantically fast forwarded, freezing the video the second her face came into view. I jammed pause and pinched to zoom. The woman’s face filled the screen. My pupils dilated violently the moment I recognized her. The woman in the purple nightgown.. was…

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The day before our wedding, my fiancé, Julian, threw my medical report in my face. “You filthy whore. You’ve got HIV. And you hid it from me!” “That’s impossible! There has to be a mistake!” I tried to explain, but he kicked me away, as if I carried a plague he desperately feared catching. After that, I spent three years in a psych ward. When I was finally released, news was everywhere: Julian was getting married. The bride smiling in his arms was Vanessa, the same woman who had done my medical exam three years ago. Vanessa’s triumphant smile blazed from my phone screen, a brand of pure victory. Her wedding dress was a replica of the one Julian had commissioned in Paris for me three years ago. He’d said only a woman as pure and talented as I was deserved something so uniquely white. I had never tried it on. The day before our wedding, a single sheet of paper declared me “HIV Positive.” The media exploded with headlines: “Brilliant Doctor’s Promiscuous Lifestyle Exposed: Diagnosed with HIV, Goes Mad, Attacks People!” “Billionaire Julian’s Fiancée Diagnosed with HIV!” … Even now, you could find photos online of me pinned to the hospital floor by security guards, my face covered in blood. Back then, all I’d wanted was to run to the lab and demand a new test. Instead, I was treated as a violent, rabid thing to be contained. My hands and feet were ice cold, my stomach cramping, making me want to throw up. It was ridiculous. Socially isolated, biologically impossible. In seven years with Julian, I had no vector for infection.. But for three years, I just told myself it was sample contamination or a misdiagnosis. Only now did it all click. There was no misdiagnosis. Vanessa had set me up. No wonder when I tried to get re-tested, Vanessa was the first to scream, claiming I was trying to infect her with HIV! She even twisted the knife in front of the media. “I’d seen Dr. Ava getting cozy with male patients before, and I warned her to uphold medical ethics.” Fist clenched, I thought of all the humiliation I’d endured. My phone vibrated suddenly in my palm. The screen lit up with an unfamiliar text. “Ava, I heard you’re out?” It was Julian. The man who once promised to protect me for life, only to deem me “dirty” and personally send me to a mental asylum. I didn’t reply. I just deleted the message. Outside, the wail of a siren pierced the air. Instinctively, I clutched my head, curling into a ball under the counter, trembling uncontrollably. It was a lingering gift from the psych ward. Even back in the light of day, that sound still triggered me like a terrified animal.

Three years ago, I was St. Jude Medical Center’s prodigy. A twenty-six-year-old attending physician, a candidate for a prestigious overseas fellowship, and engaged to a fiancé everyone envied. My fiancé, Julian, was the Dean’s son, the youngest star surgeon. We were the hospital’s golden couple, praised by everyone. As part of the pre-departure protocol, I underwent the standard battery of tests. The day the results came back, Vanessa, the head nurse, walked into my office. She didn’t offer it. Instead, she fixed me with a look I couldn’t decipher-a fleeting, performative pity drowning in a sea of cold, triumphant scorn. “Dr. Ava, your results… there’s a problem.” I smiled, taking the report. “What problem could there be? I’m perfectly healthy.” Until I saw that line of red text. HIV Antibody: Positive. I stared at the words. I knew them, but my brain couldn’t process their meaning. “This can’t be.” My hand shook, and the report fluttered to the floor. Julian pushed the door open just then. He bent down to pick it up, a smile still on his face. “What’s wrong? Not healthy enough to go abroad?” But when his eyes landed on that line of text, he recoiled three steps, as if burned. His face contorted with a horror and disgust I’d never seen before. The way he looked at me… it was like I was a pile of rotting garbage. “Julian, listen to me, this must be a misdiagnosis, I don’t have…” I instinctively reached out to grab his sleeve. “Don’t touch me!” He violently yanked his arm away, so hard I slammed into the corner of the table. All eyes in the vicinity turned to us. I watched him pull out a disinfectant wipe from his pocket, scrubbing at the spot on his sleeve I’d almost touched. Once, twice, three times. As if it had been contaminated by the filthiest thing on earth. “Julian!” I screamed his name, my voice cracking. He finally stopped, lifting his head. His handsome face was cold and resolute, a look I’d never seen. “Ava, our engagement is off.” “Effective today, you are no longer a member of St. Jude Medical Center’s medical team.” “The hospital’s reputation cannot be stained.” He signed my death warrant in front of everyone. I was kicked out of the hospital, utterly humiliated, like a whipped dog. I fled home like a coward, hoping to grasp my last hope. But my home didn’t want me either. I pushed the key into the lock, but it wouldn’t turn. My parents considered me a disgrace to the family name. They’d changed the locks overnight and tossed my luggage onto the street. No one listened to my explanations. No one believed me. That night, it poured. Homeless, I fell from grace into the mud. I developed a high fever, curled up in a cold alley, my consciousness fading. That’s when Vanessa appeared. She stood over me, holding an umbrella, dressed in a pristine white dress, looking down. “Dr. Ava, how pathetic.” Her lips said ‘pathetic,’ but her eyes glittered with malicious glee. She didn’t help me up. Instead, she took out her phone and snapped several photos of me. The next day, my story was all over the internet. Those photos, paired with sensational headlines like “Brilliant Doctor’s Promiscuous Lifestyle” and “STD Infection from Promiscuity,” nailed me to the pillar of shame. Every denial I made only became desperate, self-incriminating excuses. In despair, I thought of the most drastic way to prove my innocence. In front of everyone, I took a scalpel and deeply slashed my wrist. If my blood was clean, wouldn’t that prove my innocence? Blood stained the white coat Julian had given me. I thought death would clear my name. But Julian just stood there, coldly telling a nurse: “Clean up the blood. Don’t let it infect anyone.”

I didn’t die. I woke up encased in padded walls. No window. Just a single, heavy steel door. Julian had me committed to a psych ward. His reason: severe “persecutory delusions,” marked by “suicidal ideation and violent impulses. A forged diagnostic report was even more damaging than that HIV report. It stripped me of my last bit of agency as a normal person. Every morning at six, I was dragged out of bed. Ice-cold water was sprayed directly onto my face. They called it “physical cooling to eliminate viruses.” I’d huddle in a corner, teeth chattering from the cold. Julian never visited, but he sent boxes and boxes of antiviral drugs. They were HIV post-exposure prophylaxis (PEP). The side effects were brutal. He’d given a strict order: they had to watch me swallow them. Three times a day. The medication made me vomit violently, my hair falling out in clumps. I cried, I screamed, I begged them. “I’m not sick! I really don’t have it! Please, just one re-test!” My pleas, in the doctor’s notes, became another cold, impersonal line: “Patient’s condition is unstable, experiencing hallucinations, and resisting treatment.” Then came the electroshock therapy. As the current surged through my temples, my muscles spasmed uncontrollably. I started losing control of my bladder, drooling, convulsing like a true madwoman. But I still held onto a sliver of hope. I thought, Julian is a germaphobe so he’s just terrified. If only I could see him, if only I could explain… Three months later, Vanessa came. Through the thick glass of the visitation window, she showed me photos on her phone. They were her and Julian’s wedding photos. In the pictures, she wore the exclusive wedding dress I’d dreamed of countless times, smiling sweetly and triumphantly. “Ava, isn’t it beautiful?” “Julian said only someone clean in body and soul deserves to wear this dress.” “And you,” she gestured at my baggy patient gown, “deserve to rot in here.” I lunged at the glass like a madwoman, pounding it with all my might. “I’m not sick, it was a misdiagnosis! Vanessa, please, beg Julian to take me for a re-test!” Vanessa looked at me with pity, like I was a dying ant. “So what if it was a misdiagnosis?” “Ava, do you really think the truth matters?” “The whole world believes that report, and Julian only thinks you’re dirty. Do you think you have any chance of turning things around?” At that moment, I saw a familiar figure at the end of the hallway. Julian had arrived. I desperately pounded the glass, screaming his name. “Julian! Please, take me for a re-test! I’m really not sick!” Julian glanced at me from a distance. He frowned, then turned and walked away. Vanessa turned back to me, mouthing words: “He doesn’t want to see anything dirty.” In that moment, the light in my heart went out.

From that day on, I stopped fighting. I knew that here, being lucid was a crime. I wanted to survive. I stopped crying, stopped trying to explain. Whatever the orderlies told me to do, I did. When the doctors gave me medication, I swallowed it obediently. They all thought I had finally been “cured,” transformed into an obedient, soulless puppet. But they didn’t know. Every time I took my medication, I’d hide in a blind spot from the cameras, stick my fingers down my throat, and throw it all back up. To keep myself from going mad, I replayed surgical procedures in my mind, over and over again. Every incision, every stitch. I had to live. Live and walk out of this place. Then, I would uncover everything and clear my name. Three years. Over a thousand days and nights. I endured the withdrawal symptoms, the psychological torture. The hospital eventually declared me “stable, no longer aggressive.” I was finally “recovered” and discharged. No one came to pick me up on discharge day. I just thought I was unlucky, a victim of misdiagnosis and betrayal. … “Mommy!” A child’s innocent voice pulled me back to reality. Leo, with his little backpack, charged into the flower shop like a cannonball and hugged my leg. He was the son of a fellow patient I’d met in the psych ward. His mother had taken her own life, leaving him an orphan. I adopted him. Two people abandoned by the world, finding warmth together in this small flower shop. On a weekend, during the kindergarten’s parent-child event, Leo whispered excitedly in my ear, waiting for the activities to begin. The host’s voice rang out, full of enthusiasm: “And now, let’s give our warmest welcome to today’s special guest – St. Jude Medical Center’s youngest surgical authority, Dr. Julian, who will be giving a lecture on pediatric first aid!” Under the spotlight, Julian and Vanessa walked onto the stage hand-in-hand. Vanessa’s gaze swept through the crowd, and her eyes widened when she saw me. The next second, as if she’d spotted a monster, she deliberately raised her voice. “Oh, my… am I seeing things right?” She raised a perfectly manicured finger, pointing directly at me, her tone a masterful blend of false concern and pure malice. “Isn’t that… Dr. Ava? The one our hospital had to let go… after that whole nasty business with her lifestyle choices?” The entire auditorium fell silent instantly. Parents immediately pulled their children away, scurrying from Leo and me as if we carried a plague. Instinct took over. I pulled Leo firmly behind me, shielding him with my body. Julian also looked our way. When he saw Leo, his face instantly darkened, enough to drip ice. He strode over, directly blocking my path. “Whose kid is that?”

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On my eighteenth birthday, I was kicked out of the Davies mansion. The true heiress, Tiffany, smugly watched me, her arm linked with the parents who once showered me with affection. Mrs. Davies scoffed, “Stella, the DNA results are in. You’re Maria, the nanny’s, daughter. Tiffany’s back now, so get lost. You make me sick.” I stood at the villa gates, soaked to the bone. Tiffany ripped off my jacket, a cruel smile playing on her lips as her fingernail dragged across my cheek. “Fake is fake, always will be. I’d rather shred this jacket and use it as bedding for a stray dog than let you wear it.” Right after I was thrown out, Maria, the nanny, casually took off her apron, got into a luxury car, and drove up to me. “Sweetie, don’t you dare be sad! The business empire I built? It’s all yours now!” The surrounding guests burst into laughter, but I turned my head to a corner. There, crouched low, was a middle-aged woman in a filthy apron, her hair matted with grease. That was my biological mother, Maria, the Davies’ lowest-ranking housekeeper. She’d worked for the Davies family for twenty years, notorious for her greed, crude manners, and constant scheming. At this very moment, she was clinging desperately to Mr. Davies’ leg, weeping hysterically, snot and tears streaming down her face. “Sir! Ma’am! You can kick this good-for-nothing out, but why fire me too?!” “I haven’t even gotten this month’s pay! And what about the five bucks overtime from last month, for washing her undies?!” “You can’t be this heartless! Twenty years, even if I didn’t contribute, I put in the hard work!” Mr. Davies shoved her away with a disgusted kick. “Get lost! Take your bastard with you! Or I’ll unleash the dogs!” Maria was sent sprawling, tumbling twice on the ground like a greasy bowling ball. Watching this, my heart felt utterly dead. This was my biological mother. During my twenty years as Miss Davies, she never once gave me a kind look. Whenever no one was watching, she’d viciously pinch my arm. She chopped off my beloved long hair and forced me into boyish shorts. I wanted to learn piano, but she’d secretly scatter thumbtacks on the keys, forcing me instead into grueling financial calculations. I dreamt of dancing, but she’d beat my legs with a feather duster, pushing me to learn combat from a retired security guard. I always thought she was jealous of my good fortune, trying to ruin me. Now that I was tossed out, all she cared about was a few measly bucks of overtime pay. A tidal wave of shame washed over me. I walked over and forcefully pulled Maria up from her pathetic display on the ground. “Stop begging! Can’t you leave me some dignity?!” Maria wiped the snot from her face, then slapped me across the cheek. “Dignity?! What good is dignity?! Can it buy food?! That’s three hundred bucks! Enough for how many loaves of bread?!” I covered my face, tears mingling with the rain streaming down. Tiffany stood on the steps, a triumphant smirk plastered across her face. “Oh, what a show! Like dogs fighting over scraps, tearing each other to pieces.” “Maria, take your useless daughter and get out! Don’t you dare dirty our property!” The security guards roughly shoved us, tossing us out of the ornate iron gates like garbage. The heavy gate slammed shut. It sealed off the glittering party lights, and with it, twenty years of my life. I collapsed into the muddy puddle by the roadside, sobbing uncontrollably. I hated the Davies family’s cold cruelty, but I hated Maria’s humiliation even more. My future felt pitch black, like my life was utterly over. Maria was still pounding on the iron gate, cursing incessantly. “Mr. Davies, you bastard!” I yelled at her, “Stop cursing! Haven’t you embarrassed us enough?!” Maria stopped. She turned, looking at me. The rain was still falling, but I noticed her eyes had changed. It was a gaze I’d never seen before—deep, icy, and full of mocking amusement. Slowly, deliberately, she straightened her perpetually hunched back. Her meek, submissive demeanor vanished in an instant. She reached out, tore off her filthy apron, and casually tossed it into a nearby trash can. Then, she ran a hand through her rain-matted hair, a scornful smile playing on her lips. “Alright, stop bawling. There’s a three-hundred-billion-dollar empire waiting for you to inherit. What’s there to cry about?”

I froze, even forgetting how to cry. Rainwater dripped from my chin. I wondered if I’d misheard, or if grief had conjured some auditory hallucination. “What did you say?” I asked foolishly. Maria shot a disgusted glance at the brightly lit mansion, then spat. “I said, this wretched Davies place? Too small, too stingy. I was sick of it ages ago.” From the inner pocket of her shabby cotton jacket, she pulled out a sleek walkie-talkie. Her movements were practiced, her tone cold. “Jenkins, bring the cars around.” I hadn’t even registered who Jenkins was. Eight black Maybachs materialized from the rain-swept darkness, gliding silently like specters before us. In the center was an extended Rolls-Royce Phantom, its pure silver Spirit of Ecstasy gleaming with an icy cold light in the rainy night. The car doors opened. A dozen burly men in black suits and white gloves poured out, moving with chilling precision. They lined up in two perfect rows in the mud, bowing at a sharp ninety degrees. Their voices, loud and resonant, sliced through the rainy night. “Miss Stella! Please, enter the vehicle!” The sheer display of power made me stumble back, nearly tripping into a mud puddle. A hand steadied me. It was Maria. Her hand, though rough, was now firm and full of an undeniable power. The brawling shrew who’d thrown herself on the ground for three hundred bucks? Gone. In her place stood a queen, her aura so commanding it was impossible to meet her gaze. An elderly, silver-haired butler approached, holding a black umbrella, respectfully offering Maria a trench coat. Maria slipped on the trench coat, her presence absolutely dominating the scene. She looked at me, wide-eyed and dumbfounded, and flashed a brilliant white smile. “Sweetie, let me properly reintroduce myself.” “I am Maria, founder of Stellar Capital, and, as the rumors go… the richest person in the world.” My mind exploded with a deafening roar. Stellar Capital? The enigmatic conglomerate that controlled half the world’s shipping and wielded unparalleled power in global finance? I stammered, “You… you were a nanny, right? Just now, you were begging for five bucks overtime…” Maria rolled her eyes, pulling me into the Rolls-Royce. Inside, it was warm as spring, the leather seats exuding a subtle, luxurious scent. The butler offered warm towels and ginger tea. Maria crossed her legs, took a wine glass, and swirled the ruby liquid within. “That was my persona, got it?” “If I didn’t play the part perfectly, how could I have infiltrated the Davies family’s den of vipers for two decades?” “As for those five bucks…” She let out a cold laugh, taking a sip of wine. “Mr. Davies owes me that. Forget five bucks; even a single cent, he’d have to cough up.” I held the ginger tea, feeling like I was dreaming. “Mom… what exactly is going on?” Maria glanced at me, her gaze finally softening slightly. From her limited-edition Hermes bag, she pulled out a black card and tossed it into my lap. “There’s twenty billion in here. Consider it pocket money from your mom. Go buy yourself something nice, calm your nerves.” Twenty billion? Pocket money? The three-hundred-dollar pay stub was still swirling in my mind. “The Davies kicking you out? That’s the biggest mistake they’ll ever make.” “They thought you were some unwanted bastard.” “Little did they know, their precious Tiffany? She’s not even fit to tie your shoes.” Maria reached out, gently touching the scratches Tiffany had left on my face. A flash of pure murder flickered in her eyes. “Does it hurt?” I instinctively nodded, then shook my head. “Mom, why were you a nanny at the Davies’? And why… why were you so incredibly mean to me?” This was the knot in my heart, the biggest question. If she was so rich, why did she let me suffer for twenty years? Why cut my hair? Why force me to learn things I hated? Maria sighed, looking out at the rainy night. “Sweetie, I was saving your life.” “Mr. Davies is a monster. He’s the one who killed your father, Arthur, all those years ago.” “If I hadn’t played the fool, if I hadn’t forged you into an unbreakable warrior, we’d both be dead in that basement right now.” “As for everything I forced you to learn…” She turned, her gaze burning into mine. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll realize every single thing I pushed you to learn? They were all weapons, sharpened just for you to take over this empire.”

The motorcade swept into Stellar Tower’s private underground vault. A private elevator whisked us straight to the top-floor penthouse, overlooking the city lights. I stood at the huge picture window. Beneath my feet lay a Persian rug, and in my hand, I still clutched that twenty-billion-dollar black card. The reality of it all was utterly dizzying. Maria had already changed into a sleek, casual outfit. She tossed a file onto my lap. “This is Stellar Group’s share transfer agreement. Just sign it, and tomorrow, you’re the Chairwoman.” I was so startled my hand shook. “Mom, I don’t know how to run a company! I’m only a sophomore!” Maria lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag. “Who said you couldn’t?” “Third grade, all those ‘boring numbers’ I made you memorize? They were actually real stock market charts from back then.” “In middle school, I sent you to the farmer’s market to haggle prices for me. That was teaching you business negotiation and psychological warfare.” “And all those complex accounts I made you balance in high school? That was the group’s foundational financial logic.” “As for the combat skills that retired security guard taught you…” She blew a smoke ring, her eyes sharp as blades. “The business world is a battlefield. Sometimes, fists speak louder than words.” I froze. My memories flashed back in a frantic rush. As a child, I cried, wanting to play the piano, but she’d cut me off with a slap: “What are you doing playing a tune?! Focus on these ledgers! No food until you get them right!” I felt wronged, I hated her. I thought it was abuse. Turns out, she was leveling me up. “And Tiffany, from the Davies family? What did she learn? Flower arranging, tea ceremonies, etiquette, piano.” Maria scoffed dismissively, “That’s how you raise a golden cage canary, meant to be married off for a good price.” “But I raised you to be an eagle, soaring through the heavens. I raised you to devour.” I looked at my hands. My fingers had thin calluses, souvenirs from combat training. In my mind, those financial models that once tortured me were now crystal clear. A strange sensation washed over me. Was I… actually a maxed-out character? “Tomorrow, Mr. Davies will come begging Stellar Group for financing.” Maria stamped out her cigarette and stood up. “The Davies’ funds have dried up. Tiffany, the fake heiress, only came back to bring in capital herself.” “Too bad her connections didn’t care for a family on the brink of bankruptcy. Stellar Group is their only lifeline.” Maria walked over to me and adjusted my collar. “Sweetie, tomorrow you’ll be sitting in the Chairwoman’s seat.” “Let them see who the ‘bastard’ they threw out really is.” That night, I didn’t sleep a wink. Not from excitement, but from the boiling revenge coursing through my veins. I remembered Tiffany’s sneering face as she ripped my clothes. I remembered Mr. Davies’ disgusted kick. I remembered how, for twenty years, I’d acted like a foolish people-pleaser, begging for a shred of affection that never truly existed. Since you showed no mercy, don’t expect any from me. The next morning. I donned the bespoke suit Maria had prepared for me. Its sharp cut exuded an intimidating aura. Looking at myself in the mirror, the timid, uncertain Stella was gone. In her place stood the new helmswoman of Stellar Group. Maria didn’t come to the office with me; she said she had ‘private matters to attend to,’ but I knew she was gathering evidence from all those years ago. I arrived at the company in the Rolls-Royce. Two rows of executives were already waiting. “Good morning, Stella!” Their voices boomed. I took a deep breath, strode on my heels, and entered through the revolving doors. The receptionist stared for a moment, then immediately lowered her gaze. “Stella, Mr. Davies and Miss Tiffany from Davies Group have been waiting in the conference room for an hour.” A cold smirk played on my lips. “Let them wait. Turn the AC down ten degrees. And no one gives them a drop of water without my permission.” The receptionist’s eyes widened, and she immediately responded, “Yes, ma’am!”

In the conference room. Mr. Davies paced nervously, his forehead beaded with cold sweat. Tiffany, meanwhile, impatiently touched up her makeup, grumbling incessantly. “Dad, the boss of Stellar Group has way too much nerve, doesn’t she? Making us wait this long!” “This miserable conference room is freezing! They won’t even offer water? What kind of service is that?!” Mrs. Davies was fanning herself beside them. “Exactly! Tiffany is a delicate flower; what if she catches a cold?” “Once we get the financing, we’ll teach this arrogant company a lesson it won’t forget!” From behind the one-way glass, I coldly observed the grotesque display of this pathetic trio. Yesterday, they’d been so high and mighty, kicking me out. Today, they were here, practically wagging their tails like stray dogs, begging for scraps. “Mr. Davies, long time no see.” I pushed the door open and strode in. My secretary swiftly pulled out the chair at the head of the table. I settled into the chair calmly, my fingers interlocked on the tabletop. The conference room instantly fell silent; you could have heard a pin drop. Mr. Davies’ eyes bulged, almost popping out of his skull. Mrs. Davies’ fan clattered to the floor. Tiffany, as if seeing a ghost, shrieked, pointing at me: “Stella?! What are YOU doing here?!” “Are you here to clean toilets?! Security! How did you let this trash in?!” She lunged at me, trying to grab me. “Get out! What makes you think you belong here?! This is a multi-billion-dollar business meeting! If you dirty the carpet, can you even pay for it?!” I remained still, merely tilting my head slightly. The bodyguard beside me simply raised a hand, seizing Tiffany’s wrist and twisting it hard. “AHH—!” Tiffany shrieked, stumbled back, and landed in an undignified heap on the floor. “Tiffany!” Mrs. Davies shrieked, rushing to her side. Mr. Davies’ face turned ashen, and he roared, pointing at me: “Stella! You ungrateful wretch! Did you follow us here?! Get out, now! Don’t you dare humiliate us any further!” I leaned back in my chair, a faint smirk playing on my lips. “Humiliate you?” “Mr. Davies, I think you’ve got two things wrong.” “First, this is Stellar Group, and I am the Chairwoman.” “Second, you’re the one begging me, not the other way around.” Mr. Davies stared, his face a mask of utter disbelief. “You’re… the Chairwoman? What kind of sick joke is this?! Your mother was a toilet-scrubbing nanny!” “Whose ID did you steal? Or did some old sugar daddy pay for you to be here?” Tiffany scrambled up from the floor, her face twisted with fury: “She definitely did! Dad, she must have sold herself to get here, just to cause trouble! There’s nothing a lowlife like her wouldn’t do!” I didn’t speak, merely gestured to my secretary. My secretary slammed a document onto the table in front of Mr. Davies. “Open your pathetic eyes and see for yourself.” Mr. Davies’ trembling hand picked up the document, his fingers fumbling as he turned to the first page. Shareholder Structure. Largest Shareholder: Stella. Holding: 100%. In that instant, Mr. Davies’ face went utterly ashen, like death itself. His body went limp, and he collapsed back into the chair. “This… this can’t be… Maria… Maria, she…” “My mother’s name is Maria, and she was the previous helmswoman of Stellar Group.” I stood up, bracing my hands on the table, looking down at Mr. Davies. “Mr. Davies, that precious Davies Group you’re so proud of? In my mother’s eyes, it’s less than nothing.” “For twenty years, my mother slaved away in your house, not because she was pathetic.” “It was because she was watching you, slowly but surely, dig your own graves.” “Now, I’m giving you two choices.” “First, get on your knees, kowtow to my mother three times, and cough up that five bucks of overtime pay you swallowed yesterday, with interest.” “Second, Davies Group goes into bankruptcy liquidation, and you three can go sleep under a bridge, covered in newspapers.”

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My pregnant wife posted photos with her ex and implied her child was not mine. She spent my money, trashed my name online, and expected me to keep supporting her lies. Her family pushed harder, demanding I pay for everything while she vacationed with another man. I finally stopped protecting her reputation and ended the marriage, cut off every benefit, and exposed the truth she tried to bury. For the first time, I get to walk away while she’s the one begging. My pregnant wife ignored my protests and went on an overseas trip with her high school sweetheart. She posted on Facebook, “Travis, even if we can’t be together as husband and wife, I’ll still give birth to your child.” The picture? The two of them were holding hands and snuggled up together. I commented under the post, “If you’re this in love, isn’t it time to divorce me and be with him instead?” After posting my comment, I didn’t waste any time. I contacted the Postpartum Care Center, where I’d previously booked and canceled the reservation. I also called Summit Ridge Women’s Clinic and canceled the appointments I had set up there. For the countless baby supplies I’d bought in advance, I either returned what I could or gave away the rest. When I was done, I let out a long breath of relief. I called up a few close friends and invited them out for drinks. I needed the distraction. We were laughing and enjoying ourselves when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen, and my smile disappeared. It was Madeline Harper. The room grew quiet as my friends noticed my shift in mood. One suggested, “Ethan, is that Madeline calling? Maybe you should head home before she gets upset. ” “Yeah, we can call it a night here,” chimed another. They meant well. Since marrying Madeline, I haven’t spent much time with my friends. Whenever I did, Madeline would call them my “useless drinking buddies” and blame them for anything that went wrong. Everyone knew how overbearing she could be. But I hit the decline button right before them and forced a smile onto my face. “Forget about her. Let’s keep going.” “Ethan, maybe you should—” Dex started, concern in his voice. I cut him off, “I know you’re all looking out for me, but I’ll tell you this now: once Madeline returns, I’m divorcing her. She’s not going to be your sister-in-law anymore.” The group fell silent, exchanging uneasy glances but not saying another word. My phone buzzed again. After hesitating, I answered this time. Madeline’s sharp voice came through on the other end of the line, furious. “Ethan Vaughn! Who do you think you are ignoring my calls? If this happens again, you’ll sleep on the couch for a month!” I stayed silent as she launched into another tirade. “Tell me this, Ethan,” she demanded. “Why did you cancel the Postpartum Care Center? If they hadn’t called me, I’d still be in the dark! Are you even planning to be this baby’s father? If you’re not, don’t worry—plenty of men love to step up. The line of guys wanting to date me back in the day could’ve stretched to France!” When Madeline first got pregnant, I’d treated her like a queen. Whatever she asked for, I made it happen. I booked the best Postpartum Care Center in Napa Valley for $10,000 a month without a second thought. I loved her. I wanted her to feel cherished. But she used my devotion as a license to trample all over me. “Hey, are you listening?” Her shrill voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Yeah, I’m listening. What’s the problem?” I asked calmly. “The problem is, you’re going to fix this,” she snapped. “Rebook the Care Center. And send me another $10,000. Travis and I want to stay here for a couple more days.” Her words made me laugh out loud. “Madeline, have you lost your damn mind?” Chapter

The moment those words left my mouth, Madeline’s fury erupted. “Ethan Vaughn, what did you just say? Repeat it, I dare you! Do you want me to divorce you?” This wasn’t the first time she’d used divorce as a threat. It was her go-to move, no matter how small the argument. In the past, I always caved. I’d apologize, take the blame, and do whatever it took to smooth things. I thought that if I compromised enough, we’d eventually find happiness. But things never worked out that way. I took a deep breath, lifted my drink, and said calmly, “Alright. Let’s get divorced.” Then I hung up and turned off my phone. My friends stared at me, stunned. “Why are you all frozen? Let’s toast—to my freedom!” That broke the tension. Laughter filled the room as they raised their glasses with me. The drinks flowed, and I felt truly happy for the first time in years. Back at home, I collapsed into bed, the buzz of alcohol and freedom making me smile. For years, my life revolved around Madeline’s demands. She controlled everything, and I let her. I gave up smoking and drinking for her. I handed over my entire paycheck every month. I cooked, cleaned, and ran our household so she could play “princess.” But somewhere along the way, she forgot she wasn’t royalty. When I woke up the following day, loud banging echoed through the apartment. At first, I thought someone was renovating. But as the sound continued, I realized someone was at my door. I didn’t need to guess who. I took my time, pouring a glass of water as the voices outside grew louder. “Ethan Vaughn, open this door right now!” Dolly Carter’s sharp tone cut through the noise. “How dare you cancel the Postpartum Care Center and the hospital appointments? Are you even human?” Her voice grated on my nerves, but I was used to it. Whenever Madeline and I had even the slightest fight, her parents would rush over to scold me. When I finally opened the door, I was greeted by their furious faces. Without waiting for an invitation, they pushed past me into the apartment. “You better fix this immediately!” Dolly demanded. “Madeline’s coming home tonight, and everything needs to be in place.” “Is she bringing Travis Reese back with her?” I asked coolly. “What are you implying? Madeline’s coming back alone. Stop spreading nonsense!” Dolly shot back defensively. “Oh, and I heard you got a $15,000 bonus at work,” Walt added. “When’s Madeline getting that?” I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. It was going to be a long day. Chapter

I chuckled to myself. My father-in-law, Walt Carter, sure had his ear to the ground—he even knew about the bonus I’d received from my latest project. “So, when are you giving that money to my daughter?” Dolly, my mother-in-law, chimed in, her tone dripping with entitlement. “You must have misunderstood,” I replied flatly. “I’m filing for divorce from Madeline.” “Divorce?!” Dolly’s face twisted in shock. “Your darling daughter announced on Facebook that the baby she’s carrying belongs to her high school sweetheart, Travis. Whoever the father is, let him handle the hospital bills and the Postpartum Care Center,” I said, my tone cold. “You’re talking nonsense! That baby is yours!” Walt snapped, his voice rising in anger. Dolly, of course, doubled down. “Even if the baby isn’t yours, so what? You’re the one who married Madeline. If you truly love her, you should accept everything about her!” “And besides,” she added, crossing her arms, “that baby will take your last name anyway. So what exactly is your problem?” Listening to their absurd arguments, I realized trying to reason with them wastes time. I grabbed my car keys and left the house, ignoring their shouts as they trailed behind me. When they caught up in the driveway, I sighed and told them what they wanted to hear: “I’m going to sort out the Postpartum Care Center now.” That finally got them to back off. “You’d better,” Dolly said smugly. “After all, Madeline’s been carrying this baby for nine months. You can’t drop the ball now.” I didn’t bother responding and drove off. Once I was clear of the house, I called my former college classmate, Autumn Quinn, who now lived in Asheville, North Carolina. When she picked up, her voice lit up with excitement. “Ethan! You finally agreed! We’ve been waiting for the perfect leader for this project, and you’re it. The salary and benefits package we can offer you is top-notch!” Autumn had been trying to recruit me for months, but I’d always turned her down. I’d stayed because I thought Madeline and I were happy—and because she was pregnant. But now, I had no reason to stay. “Count me in,” I said decisively. She paused, catching something in my tone. “Ethan, is everything okay? Do you need help with something?” I chuckled softly. “No, nothing like that.” She didn’t push, but her excitement returned as she promised to arrange an interview. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she added warmly. “Thanks, Autumn.” We met in college when I was a junior and she was a freshman. We belonged to the same college society, and over time, we became good friends. After I got married, though, we drifted apart. With the interview set up, I turned my attention to the next step: consulting a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. It was evening by the time everything was arranged, and I was ready to grab dinner when my phone rang again. It was Madeline. “Where the hell have you been?!” she demanded. “I’ve called you a dozen times, and you didn’t answer. I had to take a cab home, Ethan—a cab! Do you know how mad that makes me?” Chapter

Madeline’s voice dripped with anger as if taking a cab home was the most significant hardship she’d ever faced. Looking back, I realized I’d spoiled her too much. She wasn’t born into wealth or privilege, but I treated her like a princess, and over time, she began to believe she was one. “Sorry,” I said calmly. “I was busy and forgot.” “Busy? What’s your excuse? You don’t care about me at all! Get your ass home and apologize right now!” “Oh, and don’t forget to transfer the $10,000. My mom said you already withdrew it,” she added. I murmured an acknowledgment and hung up without another word. When I got home, Madeline was sitting on the couch, her pregnant belly prominent. But she wasn’t alone. Sitting next to her was Travis Reese, her high school sweetheart. Across the room, Dolly and Walt sat like they owned the place. “Ah, everyone’s here,” I said, stepping inside. All eyes turned to me, but Madeline was the first to speak. “If Travis hadn’t been kind enough to bring me home, I don’t know what would’ve happened,” she said, her voice laced with accusation. “Do you even care about the baby I’m carrying?” “Travis brought the baby’s father home. Isn’t that what he’s supposed to do?” I replied evenly, looking directly at Travis. His eyes widened in shock. “What are you talking about? What do you mean ‘the baby’s father’?” I handed him a stack of invoices. “Postpartum Care Center: $10,000. Summit Ridge Women’s Clinic VIP delivery package: $8,000. Baby supplies: $5,000. Total: $23,000. You’ll need to make those payments at the hospital soon.” Everyone froze, the weight of my words sinking in. “What’s that supposed to mean, Ethan?” Madeline finally asked, her voice rising. “It means I’m divorcing you. And whoever got you pregnant can handle the rest,” I said, pulling out the divorce papers I’d prepared. “Divorce?!” Madeline’s eyes blazed. “You think you can just leave me like this? If anyone’s divorcing anyone, it’s me! Travis’s better than you’ll ever be, Ethan. Once we’re done, I’ll marry him.” She smiled sweetly at Travis, oblivious to the horrified expression on his face. “Madeline, are you out of your mind?!” Travis blurted out, taking a step back. “Travis, don’t be shy,” she said, still grinning. “We’ve been waiting for this. Now’s our chance to finally be together.” Even Dolly jumped in. “Travis, you’re getting a wonderful girl here. My Madeline is one of a kind!” “And the baby will have your name, of course,” Walt added. But Travis’s expression darkened. “Madeline,” he said firmly, “we were just having fun. I’m not marrying you.” Madeline’s jaw dropped. “What? You’re joking, right?” He shook his head, stepping further away. “You thought I was serious? Madeline, you’re married! And honestly, who knows who else you’ve been with?” The color drained from her face, and her parents stared in stunned silence. I watched the scene unfold, saying nothing, a cold smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

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The moment the mistress appeared on my husband’s screen, the world treated me like the problem. She mocked me. Strangers harassed me. My husband defended her at every turn. So I stopped trying to save the marriage they had already burned down. I cleared my name, exposed their tactics, and dismantled every lie they used against me. They thought I would collapse under pressure. Instead, I rose—and now they’re the ones scrambling to survive the fallout. During the company’s video conference, a different girl’s face appeared on Byron Adams’ screen. The girl, seemingly innocent, was playing with his computer, completely oblivious to the fact that the camera was on. It wasn’t until Byron returned from the bathroom that she said in a sweet tone, “I didn’t know you were in a meeting. You promised to spend three days with me, but now you’ve been in meetings for days. How annoying.” The colleagues who had been speaking earlier fell silent. Everyone waited to see how I would react. After all, they had witnessed more than a few of our arguments in the office before. But this time, I didn’t make a scene. Instead, I coldly told the colleague, “Please continue, don’t mind the irrelevant things.” I watched as the room became quiet, and my eyes focused on Byron’s screen where the girl was still playfully cuddling him. I ignored it and asked the colleague to continue. If this had happened at another time, I would have probably snapped and confronted Byron, but today, I was calm. After all, Byron never let me, his wife, touch his computer. The way the girl was interacting with it seemed so familiar, and their closeness was undeniable. I had never seen him like this before. Every time I tried to be affectionate with him, he would coldly push me away, saying, “Lydia, don’t you have your own things to do? We’re adults. Just don’t do this.” Even when I wanted to use his computer, he would immediately take it away, saying he didn’t like anyone touching it. As the meeting continued, my mind kept returning to these thoughts until Byron called me and asked, “Did you see what happened just now?” I replied, my tone calm, “See what? I don’t have time to pay attention to things that aren’t work-related.” I could almost hear him sigh with relief on the other end of the line. Then, I added, “Did you do anything?” He quickly explained himself, and after listening, I nodded and hung up the phone. For the first time, I didn’t argue with him.

He probably didn’t expect me to hang up, so he sent a follow-up message explaining again. I ignored it, replying with a simple “OK”. His dissatisfaction with my indifferent attitude was clear. [Byron, I don’t want to argue with you.] I replied and then turned on the “Do Not Disturb” mode for his chat. Just then, a friend request notification popped up. It was from a girl with a little bunny profile photo. I accepted her application. She didn’t say anything after adding me. When I clicked on her recent photo, I understood everything. It was a fresh selfie of the same girl who had appeared on Byron’s screen earlier. She was holding his computer, and it captioned: [Oops, I disturbed baby during his meeting, but he didn’t get mad at me.] Her post and friend request were clearly intended to provoke me, but I didn’t delete her. Instead, I let it linger, observing in silence. The post that caught my attention the most was one from my birthday. Byron, who was supposed to be on a business trip, was in a photo with her. They were seated at the center of the table, and the girl was wearing a crown, looking incredibly happy. Byron’s friend commented under the photo: [You two look so happy. Byron has abandoned me.] Byron replied: [Shut up, man.] I could feel the joy in his words through the screen. I suddenly remembered how, on my birthday, I had waited at home for him to return, only for him to ignore my many calls. When he finally picked up, his voice was impatient, and he only told me to sleep early. My call must have interrupted his good mood. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at myself.

I scrolled through more of the girl’s posts but found them uninteresting. After washing up, I went to bed, intending to sleep. But Byron returned just as I was about to drift off. I heard his footsteps upstairs and pretended to close my eyes. Then I heard him undressing. After a while, I felt the bed dip as he sat down and pulled me into his arms. His body carried the scent of the cologne I bought him, mingled with a faint fragrance of gardenias. It wasn’t my scent. I couldn’t help but think, was she also wrapped in his arms like this? Was she leaving her scent on him too? The thought made me feel nauseous. Without making a sound, I pulled away from his embrace and resisted his intimacy for the first time. In the past, I would have snuggled closer to him the moment he lay down. I would have buried my head in his arms, greedily inhaling his scent. But now, I couldn’t stand it. He stiffened behind me, seemingly confused, and tried to pull me closer again. “Don’t hold me. It’s uncomfortable,” I said, my eyes still closed. He sat up, suddenly irritated. “What’s wrong with you? Did you hear something? Or is there something I’ve done wrong to upset you?” I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. What could I ask him? Who was that girl? Did he love me? Right now, those questions didn’t matter anymore. “I’ve worked all day and stayed up late to revise the proposal. I’m really tired,” I replied, my voice devoid of emotion. “Please, stop making this a big deal. I just want to rest.” He exploded. “You’re insane! I just wanted to hug you, and now I’m wrong?” With that, he slammed the door and stormed off, leaving me with his cold back. In the past, I would have chased after him, clinging to his hand, begging him not to be angry. But now, I just silently pulled the blanket back over myself and tried to sleep. My rest was more important than anything else. The wall between us felt thicker now, and neither of us reached out to the other. We stayed like that in a strange silence. For the next week, Byron didn’t come home for dinner or send me any messages. When he saw me at work, he only gave me a brief, indifferent glance. Colleagues whispered about whether we had fought, or if it was because of the events that day. But the girl kept posting frequently on her social media. I thought the cold war would continue indefinitely, until one evening, I received a message from home about a family dinner. I realized I had to reach out to Byron, but my message was met with complete silence. Reluctantly, I went to the house he had lived in before we got married. It was where he always went after our arguments, and this time was no different.

I stood at the door, listening to the laughter coming from inside the villa, and couldn’t help but frown. The familiar, coquettish voice sounded exactly like the one I had heard coming from Byron’s computer that day. With a scowl on my face, I pushed the villa’s door open. Suddenly, something white and fluffy pounced at me, knocking me to the ground. My back scraped against some small stones, and I winced in pain. I looked up to see a dog. Completely unsure of how to react, I froze. “Where did this dog come from? Get it off me!” I shouted. I had been terrified of dogs since childhood after being chased by a neighbor’s large dog. Now, with a big dog pinning me down, I couldn’t stop shaking. Just then, the dog was pulled off me. Byron’s hand reached out in front of me, his face filled with confusion. I ignored him, got up, and moved away to put some distance between myself and the dog. I took a good look at the dog. Its fur was well-groomed, and it even had a cute little butterfly ornament on its ear. When it saw me standing, it tried to pounce again. I instinctively stepped back a couple of steps. “Why are you here?” Byron said softly and squatted down to pet the dog. “Didn’t you see…?” “Byron, what happened? Where’s Peach?” A high-pitched, girlish voice called out, and the figure of the girl I had seen in the photos appeared before me. Seeing her face in person made my heart ache with bitterness, especially the way Byron looked at her—his gaze was full of warmth. He quickly stepped in front of the girl, blocking her from my view, and his soft expression disappeared immediately. “What’s wrong, Byron? Why are you standing in front of me? Did Peach have an accident?” The girl slipped from behind him, and as soon as she saw me, her smile faltered. She froze when she saw me standing there. As she came closer, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to her vibrant energy. “Who is she?” the girl asked, her voice filled with confusion as she looked up at Byron. But when her gaze shifted to me, there was an unmistakable hint of challenge in her eyes. She knew who I was, and after adding me on social media, she probably knew about me long before this. “She is…” “I’m his wife, legally his wife.” I interrupted Byron’s attempt to explain and smiled at the girl in front of me. As I expected, her expression faltered for a moment before she tried to regain her composure. Her little act only made me laugh. She took a few steps back, looking uncomfortable, and struggled to pull the large dog back inside. “Well, since your wife is here, you two can have a talk. I’ll go give Peach some water.” Her fake, sad demeanor made even me feel a little sorry for her. But Byron, of course, was completely captivated by her. After she left, Byron glared at me with clear frustration. “What are you even doing here?” he asked, his voice cold. “Your family invited us for dinner, and you didn’t respond to any of my messages, so I came.” I answered calmly, indifferent to his anger, as though I didn’t even feel it. My response shut him down, leaving him speechless. I ignored him completely and walked confidently inside the house. I sat down on the sofa and looked at Byron as he followed me in. “You have 20 minutes to get ready. We need to leave on time,” I said, my tone firm. As soon as I finished speaking, the same large dog that had tackled me earlier charged toward me, as if triggered by something. It viciously bit at my clothes. “Get off me!” I shouted, grabbing my handbag and swinging it at the dog. It hit the dog on the head, leaving a small cut. I called out for Byron, but by the time I was knocked down, he was already over by the girl, shielding her in his arms. Seeing that, my heart sank completely.

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For seven years, Adrian Foster and I lived in a marriage without touch. He would lean close, speak softly, brush past me as if something pulled him in, only to withdraw the second I tried to reach back. But when he publicly shamed me to defend another woman, the tension between us finally snapped. Those lingering glances no longer mattered. I’m done waiting for warmth from a man who only offers cold. This time, I walk away. To outsiders, marrying into the Foster family was like winning the lottery. As one of the most prestigious old-money families in the city, they usually opted for business alliances in marriage. And I was just an orphan living on others’ charity. I was only six when my parents died. More than grief, I felt terror about the future. My uncles fought bitterly over the inheritance, and none of them wanted to take care of me, claiming I brought bad luck. They decided to send me to an orphanage. I didn’t want to go to the orphanage. I’d heard stories about how terrible those places were. So I found my mom’s old phone and tried calling my uncle – it was my first time contacting my mother’s side of the family. Mom had been from a wealthy family too, but she’d cut ties with them to marry my father. When Uncle Jack heard my plea, he hung up without a word. I told myself he was just hurt by my mother’s actions and it was natural for him not to want anything to do with me. But I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. The next day, I woke up early, packed my little backpack, and prepared to run away. I’d rather go hungry and sleep under a bridge than end up in that orphanage. But just as I slipped out of my room, I bumped into a man. I recognized him as my uncle immediately – he looked so much like my mom. Uncle Jack patted my head and asked if I’d had breakfast. When I said no, he picked me up and took me to his home. My grandparents had already passed away. Aunt Lisa frowned when she saw how skinny I was. “I have to take care of Noah and Emma. I don’t have time for her. You brought this trouble home, you deal with it,” she told Uncle Jack. “Don’t worry, she’s a good kid. Just give her food, and she’ll take care of everything else,” he replied. To prove Uncle Jack right, I learned to feed myself, dress myself, go to school, and sleep on my own. I even helped look after my cousins. Emma was only two months younger than me, a proud little princess. She never called me ‘sister’, instead treating me like a servant. But I didn’t mind. We all have our own destinies, and she had reasons to be proud. As for me, I was just grateful to grow up safe and healthy. After high school graduation, Uncle Jack wanted to send Emma and me to study in England together. But Adrian’s appearance disrupted all those plans.

He came with Mrs. Foster to propose marriage. Apparently, our grandfathers had once jokingly arranged a marriage between their children over drinks. No one expected Mrs. Foster to take it seriously. The atmosphere was awkward. Adrian, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly stood up and walked towards the backyard. Aunt Lisa quickly told me to follow him and take care of him. At first, I didn’t know he had autism. I just thought this young heir was being rude. It was late spring, and the roses in the garden were in full bloom. Adrian took out a sketchpad from his backpack as if by magic and started drawing intently. Not wanting to disturb him, I stood behind him, watching silently. Without exaggeration, Adrian was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. He had perfect bone structure and skin as fair as jade. His deep, soul-stirring eyes exuded an air of nobility. Just as I was secretly marveling at the lottery of birth, things took a sudden turn. Adrian seemed dissatisfied with his drawing and crumpled the paper in frustration. I wanted to comfort him, but he suddenly reached out and gripped a thorny rose stem tightly. Blood immediately started flowing, but he didn’t seem to feel any pain. Instead, he tilted his head, looking thoughtful. “Let go! Quick, let go!” I panicked like an ant on a hot pan. Young Mr. Foster was an important guest, and I didn’t know what trouble it would cause Uncle Jack if he got hurt under my watch. I called out loudly, but he had no reaction. Left with no choice, I reached out to pull his arm. The moment I touched his sleeve, he suddenly became enraged and pushed me to the ground. I was terrified. His expression was so frightening that I thought he might hit me. But he didn’t. He just turned back to continue drawing. Mrs. Foster heard the commotion and hurried over. She seemed used to such incidents and quickly left with her son. After they left, Emma burst into tears. “I don’t want to get married! I want to go to England! If you force me, I’ll kill myself!” Uncle Jack was heartbroken but also helpless. Most of the family’s business relied on the Fosters. Offending Mrs. Foster would have unthinkable consequences. Aunt Lisa comforted her daughter while secretly glancing at me. “The Thompsons don’t just have one daughter. Why do you keep focusing on Emma?” Emma nodded vigorously. “That’s right, let Aria marry him. You’ve raised her for so many years, it can’t be for nothing.” “What are you saying? Adrian is autistic. How could I push Aria into such a difficult situation?” Uncle Jack protested. “So you’d rather push your own daughter into the fire…” Aunt Lisa retorted.

Uncle Jack and Aunt Lisa argued all night. I hid in my room, listening silently, and made my decision. The next day, I told Uncle Jack that I was willing to marry into the Foster family in Emma’s place. “Emma is right. You and Aunt Lisa have been so good to me. It’s time for me to repay your kindness,” I said. Uncle Jack’s eyes turned red as he held my hand, wanting to say something. But in the end, he couldn’t get the words out. Because of Adrian’s condition, the wedding was very simple. I thought his willingness to marry meant he was prepared to live with me. But I was wrong. On our wedding night, as soon as I stepped into our room, his face darkened. “Get out!” “This is my room too,” I said. “You’re not allowed to sleep here.” I tried to reason with him, to explain the meaning of marriage. But he wouldn’t listen. Instead, he tore up all the red ‘double happiness’ decorations in the room. Helpless, I turned to leave. Mrs. Foster saw this and sighed, calling me to her study. She told me that Adrian wasn’t a bad person by nature, just socially withdrawn and unwilling to interact with others. Since I had married him, it was my responsibility to take care of him. She believed that if I tried hard enough, I could eventually open Adrian’s heart and make him accept me. I decided to give it a try. Taking care of someone with autism is both mentally and physically exhausting. Every day, I personally prepared his meals, reminded him to take his medicine, and took him for medical check-ups. To understand him better, I bought all the books I could find about autism and studied them late into the night. My efforts gradually paid off. Adrian slowly got used to my presence and no longer rejected me as he had at first. I was allowed to ride in the same car with him or sit at the same table for meals. Knowing I liked fruit, he would personally prepare beautiful fruit platters for me. When I caught a cold due to my weak immune system, he would force me to drink ginger tea. Time passed, and we both got used to this life. The only one unsatisfied was Mrs. Foster. She talked to me every other day, always with the same purpose: urging me to have a child. Forced into a corner, I had to tell her the truth. Adrian hadn’t shown any interest in physical intimacy and wouldn’t even allow me to sleep in the same bed. Mrs. Foster was anxious and angry. She took Adrian for a medical examination. The doctor said there was nothing wrong with his physical functions; he just couldn’t overcome his psychological barriers and accept such an intimate relationship. “When it comes down to it, it’s your problem,” Mrs. Foster told me. “Can’t you find a way to make him fall in love with you?” I was at a loss. I didn’t even know what love was myself, let alone Adrian.

In our seventh year of marriage, Mrs. Foster gave me an ultimatum. “The Foster family has only had one child for three generations. We can’t let the line end here. If you can have a child, do it. If you can’t, I’ll find someone else who can. But then I won’t have time to care about the Thompson family’s business!” Faced with such a blatant threat, I had no choice but to give in. That night, I found a romantic movie and invited Adrian to watch it with me. He agreed but left halfway through, saying it was boring. After my shower, I changed into the lingerie Mrs. Foster had specially made for me and nervously knocked on Adrian’s door. “I’m going to sleep,” he said. “We can talk tomorrow.” Adrian blocked the door, not letting me in. “I’ve painted a new picture of birds. I was hoping you could take a look,” I said. That’s right, to please Adrian, I had even taken up painting classes. Adrian finally agreed to let me in, but his expression remained cold and he wouldn’t look at me. “Where’s the painting?” he asked. “Don’t rush. The paper is quite large, we need to spread it out on the bed.” I tried my best to overcome my embarrassment and acted seductively, like in the movies. The nearly see-through nightgown left little to the imagination. But Adrian still had no reaction. His gaze was focused entirely on the non-existent painting. “Stop painting,” he said suddenly. “What?” “I said, stop painting from now on. Your brushwork is weak, you have no talent. Even a three-year-old could paint better than you.” I blushed, feeling extremely embarrassed. “If I’m not good, you could teach me. I’d be the most obedient student,” I said, reaching out to touch him. He pushed me away roughly. At that moment, the strap of my nightgown snapped. I stood there naked in front of Adrian, like a peeled egg. “Get out! Get out of here!” he shouted. “You filthy woman! Disgusting woman!” “Painting is the most sacred thing. How dare you desecrate it!” I had never seen Adrian so angry before. His bloodshot eyes stared at me as if I had committed some unforgivable sin. In the past, I would have run out immediately, terrified. But not today. Trembling, I wrapped myself in a blanket. “Adrian, we need to have a child. Otherwise, I won’t be able to stay here anymore.” “Who wants you to stay here?” he spat. “Look in the mirror. See how disgusting you are!” “I hate you. It would be best if you never appeared in front of me again!” “Do you really mean that?” I asked. Even though I knew he was ill, these words still hurt me deeply. After seven years of companionship, even a pet cat or dog would have developed some affection. Adrian nodded firmly, ignoring the tears in my eyes as he roughly pushed me out of the room.

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