Category: English

I’m the heiress of a capitalist empire, and for three years, I’ve been in an arranged marriage with an icy, aloof commander who has never touched me. During a camping trip in the countryside, I went to his tent to spend the night. He frowned, refusing to take my luggage. “Tonight… isn’t appropriate.” I froze, and suddenly, subtitles appeared before my eyes: [LMAO, the Male Lead’s ‘white moonlight’ is back, and the Second Female Lead is still clowning herself? Does she really think her money can buy his love?] [Does she even know? The cold ML is actually addicted to intimacy, but he’d rather take cold showers for three years than touch her. He saved himself for the FL all this time. He loves her SO much~] [The FL came back just as the arranged marriage contract expires. After abstaining for so long, their reunion s*x is going to be insane! As for the heiress, she’s just a plot device to spice things up.] I gripped my luggage handle and smiled. “Okay. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep tonight.” 1. [Wait, what? The Second Female Lead isn’t clinging to him?] [Playing hard to get, obviously. She’s relentless. Heh, let’s see if the ML even cares!] [Lol, she’s a capitalist heiress. With her background, who would dare take her in?] Sensing the awkward atmosphere, a few of Liam’s comrades tried to smooth things over: “Don’t mind him, sis. Liam’s just a bit of a germaphobe. He never shakes hands, and even eats from a separate tray.” “Yeah, plenty of high-ranking officers tried to set him up with their daughters, and some girls even chased him to the camp. Liam never budged. When he suddenly announced his marriage, we all thought hell had frozen over!” “Some other girls came along on the trip. Why don’t you bunk with them tonight, sis?” I looked at Liam. I said nothing. Liam wasn’t wearing casual clothes. His white shirt was buttoned all the way to the top, meticulous and severe. His dark eyes were deep, cold, and abstinent. His brows furrowed with an impersonal chill. He glanced at Bella standing beside him, his voice flat. “Whatever you want.” My heart ached, and I clenched the hem of my dress. They were right. Liam did have a cleanliness fixation. He never shared personal items and never initiated physical contact. Not even with me, his wife of three years. But there were exceptions. “Oh? Liam has a germ phobia? I didn’t know…” Bella covered her mouth, her voice surprised. She was pale, slender, and graceful, like a delicate bamboo stalk. Dressed simply, she spoke softly and elegantly. She had just returned from studying abroad and was already appointed as a translator for foreign affairs. Her family was scholarly and well-connected. Childhood sweethearts with Liam, a perfect match. She must be the ‘white moonlight’ female lead mentioned in the subtitles. Bella blinked her watery, spirited eyes, looking apologetically at Liam. “Then was it bad that I borrowed so much of your gear just now?” Liam frowned slightly. But he said nothing. It was an era where arranged marriages were being abolished, and free love was the talk of the town. The camping site was near my mother’s hometown. Many locals knew about my arranged marriage with Liam. Seeing this, the villagers’ gazes turned mocking. A wife whose marriage contract was up, publicly refused entry to her husband’s tent. The implication was obvious. To ease the tension, someone suggested with a laugh: “Since we’re splitting up, we’re short on tents. Let’s draw lots for tents tonight. Whoever you draw, you bunk with. How about it?” “Warning you all, I snore like thunder. No take-backs if you get me!” “Count me in! Who else?” The men chimed in enthusiastically. They hadn’t intended for the women to participate. Besides two married couples, Bella and I were the only single women present. I had been publicly kicked out by Liam. And I didn’t want to share a tent with Bella. Biting my lip, I raised my hand. “I’m in.” 2. Silence fell instantly. Liam snapped his head toward me, his gaze cold as ice. His jaw tightened, his voice dark. “Elise, stop it.” He was angry I embarrassed him. Even if he didn’t like the woman. Even if he just kicked her out. A man couldn’t tolerate his wife publicly cucking him. I pressed my lips together and looked away. A comrade tried to intervene. “Sis, you’re a woman, this isn’t really appropriate…” I forced a polite smile. My voice was soft but firm. “Since I’m the reason we’re short on tents, I can’t just take one for myself.” “We’re all comrades here. In tough conditions, there shouldn’t be special treatment. Managing for one night won’t hurt.” I am the heiress of the Jiang family. Even if I was rejected by my husband of three years. I wouldn’t abandon my pride. My words silenced the crowd. They praised my spirit, saying women hold up half the sky. Bella’s eyes darted to Liam, then she blushed and raised her hand too. “Since Elise put it that way, as a translator, I can’t ask for special treatment either.” Amidst the agreement, Liam stared at me, his voice low. “I’m in too.” The subtitles exploded: [Here it comes! This is the scene! The ML and FL draw the same tent, and the ML’s addiction takes over! The smut is going to be amazing~] [The Second Female Lead is a married woman, yet she joins in just to make the ML jealous? Hilarious. Does he even care? He only agreed because our FL joined!] [She’s going to lose it when she doesn’t draw the ML~ She’ll throw a tantrum and demand the FL switch with her, but the ML will shut her down. So sweet~] [She tries to pull the FL’s hair and gets shoved to the ground by the ML. So satisfying!] [It’s 2024, who thinks an arranged marriage makes you the ‘real wife’? Our FL is his true love, his white moonlight for years!] [Later, the Second Female Lead refuses to divorce and threatens them with the ML’s career, making the FL cry. Luckily, the ML destroys her family. She even tries to kidnap the FL and gets tortured to death by the kidnappers. Deserved!] I felt cold all over. I didn’t want to believe it. But my heart pounded. I didn’t know if the subtitles were true. But if I didn’t do those things… If I didn’t stand in their way and obediently divorced Liam… Would those terrible things still happen? 3. The results of the draw came out quickly. “Those with matching numbers share a tent. No take-backs!” Everyone revealed their numbers. Sure enough, Liam and Bella drew the same number. Many present knew their history. Though they didn’t jeer aloud, they watched with anticipation. Bella blushed, looking at Liam shyly. “This… isn’t very appropriate… Maybe I should switch with Elise?” Liam frowned. His dark eyes looked at me with a warning. The subtitles scrolled: [The FL is so elegant and kind. She offered to switch so the ML wouldn’t be in a tough spot. Unlike someone who’s about to throw a fit~] [Lol, just say Elise’s name! But the ML is more anxious than her. Seeing the FL want to switch, he tensed up immediately, afraid she’d be eaten by another man. Omg, shipping them so hard!] [Seriously, the Second Female Lead is pathetic. He rejected her at the start, and she still forced her way into the draw. Embarrassing!] Meeting Liam’s intense gaze. My heart soured. My knuckles turned white gripping the lot. I didn’t want to embarrass myself further, so I smiled deliberately. “No need. Let’s stick to the draw.” The person who drew the same number as me was Mark, my childhood friend from the village. Our parents had jokingly arranged a marriage for us when we were kids. We drifted apart after I got married. I sat next to him, our shoulders touching. Swallowing the bitterness, I avoided looking at Liam. I placed my hand on Mark’s arm and smiled at him, pretending to be calm. “I’m counting on you tonight.” Mark stiffened. He wanted to pull away, but seeing my red-rimmed eyes, he didn’t move. The crowd went silent. The subtitles were shocked: [What’s happening? Why isn’t she throwing a tantrum? How will the ML defend the FL and start their romance?] [Does she think hooking up with her ex will make the ML jealous? Lol, look at him, does he care? It just makes her look like a cheater. Her morals are trash!] [Talking about morals is rich coming from people shipping an affair.] [How is it the same? The ML and FL are true love! The Second Female Lead is just a squatter in the nest! A relic of feudal arranged marriages. After the divorce tonight, she’s irrelevant!] [Disgusting. Flirting with her ex-fiance in public. No man can tolerate that humiliation. Just wait for the ML’s revenge!] Liam’s long fingers clenched into a fist, knuckles white. His voice was deep and magnetic. Calm, but with a hint of threat. “My wife is drunk. I won’t trouble Mr. Chen.” “I apologize on her behalf. Mr. Chen, please exchange your lot with mine.” 4. I looked up in shock. I met Liam’s dark gaze. A storm seemed to brew in his deep eyes. The pressure was suffocating. I had never seen Liam like this. He seemed furious. Even his usual cold facade was crumbling. Thinking of what the subtitles just said… I was terrified of what would happen if he grabbed me. Instinctively, I leaned closer to Mark. Pressing my lips together, I tried to keep my voice steady. “No need. I haven’t been drinking.” Liam’s gaze grew darker. He took a deep breath, his voice becoming softer. Like a snake coaxing its prey. “Elise, come here. Be good.” Sensing the tension, others tried to mediate. “Sis, Liam knows he was wrong. Don’t be mad. Husband and wife shouldn’t sleep apart.” “We were just joking around. Don’t let it ruin the mood.” “Commander Liam hasn’t seen Bella in ages. Even if they’re old classmates, the past is in the past. Don’t overthink it, sis.” Bella smiled sadly. “Yes, Elise. No matter who is in Liam’s heart, you are his wife now. Clinging to Mr. Chen like this…” I froze. Humiliation washed over me. The subtitles were going crazy: [Die, b*tch! So ungrateful, cucking the ML in public!] [Why did the ML switch? Just go to the tent with the FL! I’m a VIP member, get to the smut already!] [The ML is probably afraid the FL can’t handle it. He has an addiction and hasn’t touched a woman in years. It’s going to be rough! Maybe he wants to vent his frustrations on the Second Female Lead first so he doesn’t hurt the FL~] [True. The FL is back, and he’s divorcing the Second Female Lead soon. Might as well use her one last time. Besides, didn’t she always want him? Now she’s playing innocent with her ex? Disgusting!] [Exactly. She’s been throwing herself at him for years. Now she’s acting pure? Can’t she see the ML hasn’t showered and is about to explode?] I looked up. I saw Bella sitting next to Liam, asking him concerned questions. Liam’s pale skin was flushed. Veins popped on the hand clutching the lot. His Adam’s apple bobbed, as if suppressing something. Meeting his burning gaze, I lowered my head like I’d been burned. Holding back tears. In three years of marriage, Liam had been a dutiful husband. Polite, caring. But no matter how hard I tried, he never touched me. I never knew about his addiction. But today, because Bella returned, he came to this gathering regardless of the consequences. Because he was afraid of hurting his precious white moonlight… He wanted to use me to vent… My heart felt torn apart, bleeding. I couldn’t imagine the consequences of being caught by him. Fear and sadness made me want to run.

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My best friend showed up at my family’s mansion, heavily pregnant, demanding to take over my mother’s place. She claimed she was carrying my father’s son. Her story? Five months ago, on my dad’s birthday, they got drunk and ended up in bed together. She pointed a manicured finger at my mom, screaming, “You old hag! You couldn’t give him a son, so do yourself a favor and get out!” Then she turned to me with a triumphant smirk. “And you, you little leech, get lost too. From now on, everything in this house belongs to your baby brother!” Finally, she looked at my dad, batting her eyelashes. “Charlie, baby, stop hiding it. This is a Sterling heir in my belly.” My whole family just stared at each other. Because we knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the baby in her belly could not possibly be my dad’s. My friend thought we were just making excuses. She threatened to sue my dad for child support and defamation. But when I threw my dad’s ID card in her face, her world crumbled. 1 For their 30th anniversary, my dad took my mom to the dealership to buy a car. Just as he was about to swipe his card for the latest G-Wagon, fully paid, my best friend, Jessica, burst in. She snatched the card from my dad’s hand, shouting, “Charlie! You can’t buy this old woman a car! That money is for our son!” Jessica gestured dramatically towards her protruding belly. My parents and I stared at her, stunned. My dad was the first to react. He frowned, “Jessica, what the hell are you talking about? What does your baby have to do with me?” Hearing my dad deny it, Jessica’s eyes instantly turned red. She pouted, voice trembling, “Charlie, how can you deny it? This baby is yours! Five months ago, on your birthday, you got drunk and… and you took me!” “When I found out I was pregnant, the doctor said it was a boy. I came here to give the Sterling family an heir!” My parents and I were completely baffled. Five months ago, for my dad’s birthday, I did invite Jessica. A lot of my parents’ friends came over. It was a lively party. My dad, being the birthday boy, had a few too many cocktails and passed out early. My mom helped him to the bedroom. Sure, my mom got called away for an emergency at the hospital halfway through the night, and all the guests left, leaving just me and Jessica. But she slept in my room. Before going to bed, I even checked on my dad. He was snoring like a chainsaw, dead to the world. There was no one else in the room. I couldn’t fathom how my best friend could make up such a ridiculous lie. It took me a few seconds to find my voice. “Jess, are you confused? There’s no way that baby is my dad’s.” Jessica shot me a side-eye and pouted. “Confused? That night your dad held me all night calling me ‘baby,’ saying I was younger and prettier than your mom. He even said he wanted to marry me!” “Chloe, denying it won’t change the facts. This is your dad’s seed. It’s your biological brother. From now on, your bestie is going to be your stepmom!” Jessica rambled on, spinning a tale about getting up for water in the middle of the night, stumbling into the wrong room, and my dad refusing to let her leave. Her voice was loud. Everyone in the dealership stopped to watch the drama unfold. “Look at her belly! She’s definitely pregnant.” “Rich old men always go for the young ones. Classic.” “Best friend to stepmom? That’s some reality TV drama right there.” 2 My parents’ faces turned red from the gossip. But my dad kept his cool. “Jessica, because you’re Chloe’s friend, I’m trying to be patient. Please stop spouting nonsense. That child has nothing to do with me.” My mom chimed in, voice steady but cold. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I can tell you right now, there is zero chance that baby belongs to Charlie.” Jessica wouldn’t let up. She pointed straight at my mom’s nose. “Shut up, you old hag! Who are you to talk about my baby? You’re just a dried-up hen who couldn’t give him a son. Know your place and step aside!” Then, she whipped out her phone triumphantly. “I have photos, videos, and recordings from that night! I’m going to play them right now so everyone can judge for themselves!” The video was indeed filmed in my parents’ bedroom. The footage was grainy, but you could see my dad hugging Jessica, refusing to let go, mumbling something incoherent. The photos were selfies of them lying in bed together. There was even one of Jessica kissing my dad on the cheek while he slept. And the recording… it was explicit. Jessica moaning, and my dad’s deep voice calling out “Wifey” over and over. The crowd exploded. “Oh my god! She has receipts! It must be true!” “He looks like a decent guy, but he’s a creep behind closed doors!” “Disgusting. Preying on his daughter’s friend? Animal.” Jessica beamed, victorious. She waddled toward my mom, pushing her belly forward. “Well? Evidence is right here. What do you have to say now? I’m telling you, I’m the new mistress of this house!” I couldn’t stand seeing my mom bullied. I stepped in front of her. “Jessica, I don’t know where you faked this trash, but my dad would never do this!” Jessica glared at me. “Chloe Sterling, don’t you dare yell at me! I’m your future mother. I’m carrying your brother. If anything happens to him, you’ll pay!” I laughed out of pure anger. She used to make snide comments about how my mom, a mere housewife, wasn’t good enough for a successful man like my dad. She used to drool over him when he picked me up from school. I never thought much of it. Now I see she was plotting this all along. My dad is handsome and rich, after all. “Bullsh*t brother,” I snapped. “My dad will never be the father of your child. If you have any shame left, leave now!” Jessica didn’t expect me to be so tough. She paused, then threw a tantrum. “Chloe, for the sake of our friendship, I was going to let you stay in the Sterling house. But since you want to insult me, you can get out too! Everything belongs to your brother now!” She finished yelling at me and turned to my dad, putting on a pitiful act. “Charlie, look how they’re bullying me! What if the stress hurts our son?” My dad frowned, avoiding her gaze, sticking to his denial. “I was black-out drunk. I couldn’t have done anything. These videos prove nothing! I said, the kid isn’t mine! Go find the real father!” Even though the “evidence” looked damning, my family knew the truth. We were absolutely certain that baby wasn’t my dad’s. 3 Seeing our united front, the onlookers started whispering theories. “Deepfakes? AI is scary good these days. Face swapping is easy.” “Maybe she hired a lookalike? The family seems genuinely confused.” “First time I’ve seen a whole family deny it so hard. Maybe she’s just a gold digger scamming them?” “Tsk tsk. So young and already trying to be a homewrecker.” Jessica’s face burned hearing the whispers. But she didn’t back down. “This is the Sterling bloodline!” She lunged at my dad, grabbing his arm. “Charlie, you can’t let people talk about us like this! This is your only son!” My dad shook her off. “Let go! I said nothing happened! The kid isn’t mine!” My mom took a deep breath, staring Jessica down. “Jessica, you know whose baby that is. But it is absolutely not Charlie’s.” Jessica shivered under my mom’s gaze but kept shouting, “I know exactly whose it is! It’s Charlie’s!” No matter what we said, Jessica insisted the baby was my dad’s and demanded we leave the house. My dad’s face darkened. “Jessica, if you keep slandering me, I won’t care about Chloe’s friendship anymore!” My mom was trembling with rage. I held her back. I stared at Jessica coldly. “Jessica, defamation is a crime. Do you really want to go to jail?” She flinched at the word “jail,” but then seemed to remember something. She puffed out her chest. “I’m not slandering anyone! I’m stating facts!” I sneered. “Proof?” Jessica smiled like she was waiting for that. “Proof? Oh, I have proof!” She dug into her Hermes bag (which I bought for her) and pulled out a document, slamming it onto the table in front of us. It was a DNA test report from an amniocentesis. It clearly stated that the fetus shared a biological relationship with “Charlie Sterling.” My parents and I exchanged looks, stunned. Jessica saw our shock and smirked. “See? Black and white. This is Charlie’s seed!” The crowd gasped again. “A DNA test? That’s definitive. Guess the old guy really did it.” “I thought she was scamming them. Turns out it’s real…” “Can’t deny science.” Jessica felt the tide turn in her favor. She stroked her belly, looking at my mom provocatively. “Karen, the evidence is irrefutable. Hurry up and divorce Charlie. Stop occupying the nest if you can’t lay eggs!” Then she sneered at me. “Chloe, looks like you lose! The inheritance is all for my son!” Finally, she looked at my dad with lovey-dovey eyes. “Charlie, stop hiding it. This is your legacy. Divorce this old woman so I can marry you properly!” She thought she had won. She thought she was moments away from a life of luxury. Instead, my family answered in unison. “We do not accept this report!” 4 Jessica’s smile froze. “You don’t accept it? On what grounds? It’s right there!” My dad spoke slowly, his voice calm but powerful. “On the grounds that the report is fake.” My mom nodded. “Don’t bring forged documents here to embarrass yourself.” I stayed silent, my expression icy. I stood with my parents. Jessica exploded. Her eyes filled with venom. “Fake? You just say it’s fake and it’s fake?” “Open your eyes! This is from City General Hospital!” It was indeed on hospital letterhead. But we would never accept it. Seeing that we wouldn’t budge, Jessica switched tactics. She started wailing to my dad. “Charlie, that was my first time! If you hadn’t forced me, I wouldn’t have given myself to you! I gave you my most precious gift, and now you won’t take responsibility?” Then to my mom: “Karen, as a woman, you should sympathize! I’m so young and pregnant. My baby needs a father!” Then to me: “Chloe, ask yourself, how good have I been to you? I did everything you asked! Do you have no conscience?” She cried like a tragic heroine. The crowd started to pity her, casting judgmental looks at us. “That man is despicable. Forcing a girl and then denying the baby!” “The mother and daughter are so cold-blooded. Poor girl.” “They won’t even believe a hospital report. Rich people think they can bully anyone.” … They painted us as villains. Jessica cried harder, feeding off the sympathy. But no matter how hard she performed, my dad’s face remained dark. There wasn’t a flicker of recognition for the “son.” My dad’s voice shook with suppressed anger. “Jessica, how many times do I have to say it? That baby is not mine!” My mom added, “Stop dumping your trash on my husband. It’s not his!” I dropped the hammer. “I’m telling you, even if God himself came down, that baby would not be my father’s!” Jessica saw crying wasn’t working. She went nuclear. She wiped her tears and snarled: “Charlie, are you really going to be this heartless? Fine! If you won’t do the right thing, I’ll go to the police and charge you with rape! Let’s see if the law can force you!” “Your family’s good life ends today!” She smirked, thinking she had us cornered. I laughed coldly. I reached into my bag, pulled out my dad’s ID card, and threw it in her face. “Guess who the police are going to arrest first?” The next second, Jessica stared at the ID card, struck dumb. She was completely bewildered.

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Just as I was about to clock out for the day, a text message lit up my phone. A deposit of over three million dollars. Memo: Salary. My first thought was that it had to be a scam. I scrambled to open my banking app. But there it was, plain as day. Three million dollars sitting in my account. The sender? My own company. I was completely stunned. I couldn’t earn that much money in a lifetime of work. My first instinct wasn’t to keep it, but to run straight to accounting. Call me a coward, but I’d seen the news stories. Keeping quiet in a situation like this is illegal. It’s called unjust enrichment. If it went to court, paying it back would be the least of my worries. I could end up with a criminal record. I’m a man with a clean record, and I planned on keeping it that way. . 1 “Did the company just send me a wire transfer?” I asked the woman in accounting, my voice tight with urgency. Her expression was even more nervous than mine. “Yes,” she said. “And you’d best not ask me about it. I just do what the boss tells me to.” “Do you have any idea how much money you sent me?!” I exclaimed. “Are you deaf?” she snapped. “I told you, if you have a problem, take it up with the boss!” Our company was small. The accountant, Heather, also handled HR and admin. She was also the boss’s sister-in-law. She used that connection to boss everyone around, but today, her attitude was just bizarre. I was here to return a massive sum of money, and she was acting like I owed her. Our raised voices had attracted the attention of the few other people in the office. Just then, the boss poked his head out of his office. He glanced in our direction. “Cole,” he said. “My office. Now.” He shut the door. Heather shot me a triumphant glare. I had no idea what was going on, but I squared my shoulders and walked to the boss’s office. When I stepped inside, I saw the boss’s wife was there too, sitting beside him. She was dripping with jewelry, an Hermès bag perched on the desk in front of her as she casually clipped her nails. My boss, Ross, gave me a toothy smile and asked with feigned concern, “So, you have a problem with your commission?” I was completely lost. “Was that transfer my commission? The amount is wrong…” Before I could finish, Ross cut me off. “Oh, come on. Three thousand is nothing to sneeze at. In this economy, you can’t be picky.” Suddenly, it all clicked into place. A few months ago, our second team took on a new project, but the project manager had just been forced out by Ross. Ross came to me, asking me to step in and manage it. He promised me a three-percent cut of the final project value as a bonus. It was a million-dollar project. Three percent was thirty thousand dollars. Even though my own team was swamped, I’d agreed. Thirty grand was several months’ salary. I worked myself to the bone for two months, pulling strings, calling in favors, dealing with vendors, drawing up quotes. I lost ten pounds. But after the project wrapped, the promised bonus never appeared. So that was it. The client had paid today, and Ross was only planning to give me three thousand dollars. No wonder Heather was so jumpy when she saw me. If she hadn’t made that massive typo on the transfer, I would have been the world’s biggest sucker. Just to be sure, I asked cautiously, “So, the thirty-thousand-dollar commission we agreed on is now three thousand. Is that right, Ross?” The smile vanished from his face. He stared at me blankly. “You’re not satisfied with three thousand? And when did I ever promise you thirty?” “You said it yourself,” I insisted. “A three-percent cut. On a million-dollar project, isn’t that thirty thousand?” Ross actually laughed. I couldn’t figure out what was so funny. He turned to his wife. “What did I tell you? Give them an inch, they take a mile. Some employees are just ungrateful. I knew he’d make a fuss.” His wife nodded sagely. Ross turned back to me, his expression sour. “I said three percent, yes. But do you think projects run on thin air? Don’t they have costs? You’ve managed projects before. You should have that much common sense.” His words left me speechless. That wasn’t his tone when he was begging me to take over the project. He’d invited me into his office for tea, told me the company was in a tough spot and that this client was too important to lose. He’d promised me, hand on heart, that if I saved the day, I’d get not only the three-percent commission but also a promotion and a raise at the end of the year. So, according to his logic now, he’d always meant three percent of the net profit. He was just playing word games. And even if it was three percent of the net, the commission shouldn’t have been only three thousand dollars. My patience was wearing thin. “Ross, if I’d known I was going to kill myself for two months for just three grand, who in their right mind would have taken this project?” “Am I not paying you a salary on top of that?” he shot back. “Show me another company that even offers a commission for project work. I’ve been more than generous!” His words hit me like a bucket of cold water. The company was short-staffed. I had stepped up to save a major project. Even if there was no glory, there was certainly hard labor. I thought he would at least acknowledge that. I was wrong. In his eyes, giving me three thousand was an act of charity. Sensing the rising tension, his wife stepped in to play peacemaker. “Cole, you’re partly to blame here too. Why were you arguing with Heather out there? It’s bad for morale. Something that could have been discussed calmly is now impossible.” I was dumbfounded. I wasn’t arguing with Heather. I was trying to return the three million dollars she’d mistakenly sent me. The irony was laughable. Ross was playing me for a fool, and I was worried about giving him his money back. In that moment, I felt like a complete idiot. Seeing my silence, the wife continued, “And don’t blame your boss. You think he doesn’t want to give you more? Blame the client. They’re the ones who screwed us!” I looked at her, confused. The project had been exhausting, but the client, a liquor company, had been surprisingly decent. They were straightforward, no corporate nonsense, and always polite. “What did the client do?” I asked. “They cut our payment!” she declared. “You didn’t know? They only paid out half a million on a million-dollar project. That’s why Ross could only give you three thousand.” I glanced at Ross. He quickly chimed in, “That’s right! After all the costs, there’s barely anything left. And you know we’re a small company. We still owe money to suppliers, the account is nearly empty. I had to scrape this three thousand together for you because you worked hard.” Listening to them plead poverty was almost comical. Ross owed a lot of people money, sure, but the two of them never skimped on themselves. One look at his wife’s designer outfit told you that. I just couldn’t understand it. Why were they so tight-fisted when they clearly had money? When it was time to make money, they expected you to give your all. When it was time to share it, they’d rather let it rot in their hands than give you a dime. The old me might have believed their sincere performance. But with three million of their dollars sitting in my bank account, how could I? I didn’t bother calling their bluff. I just asked coldly, “Are you sure the client only paid half a million?” “Why won’t you believe me?” Ross said, his patience gone. “Would I lie to you? You want me to get Heather in here to confirm?” I took a deep breath. “Fine. Then just give me fifteen thousand. I won’t ask for more.” Ross’s eyes bulged. “Are you deaf? I just told you, there are costs to deduct!” “Alright,” I said with a sigh. “Then let’s calculate the costs. I managed the project. I know the numbers.” I regretted it now, not getting our original agreement in writing. He was going back on his word, and I had no real proof. But who could have predicted he’d be this shameless? I’d made up my mind. I would take the loss, but I was going to get as much as I could. This was also me, giving Ross one last chance. If he decided to be a decent human being, I’d return the three million. If he kept playing games and crying poor, then I’d have to start thinking about where that money should really go. Ross was taken aback. He probably thought his little song and dance with his wife would be enough to make me back down. He never expected me to dig in my heels over the commission. He stared at me in disbelief and sneered, “You want to audit me?” “It’s not an audit,” I said. “It’s about settling the account properly. I can’t just take three thousand dollars without understanding why.” I pulled out my phone, brought up the project quote, and started listing the expenses on a piece of paper right in front of him. He knew better than I did that a PR project like this had huge margins. The bulk of the cost was in media distribution, paying some content farms to post articles, hiring a few cheap influencers to make some videos, and slipping the client’s marketing head a kickback. It was all smoke and mirrors. The quote was ridiculously high, but the actual cost of the project was only about two hundred thousand dollars. Even if the client had only paid half a million, the profit was still three hundred thousand. And by his own logic, three percent of that profit should have been nine thousand dollars, not three! As I scribbled down the numbers, Ross’s face grew redder and redder. “You’re just an employee!” he finally exploded. “How dare you come in here and try to audit my books?” I tossed the pen on the desk. “What’s there to be scared of? Business is business. Look, even after costs, you’re left with over three hundred thousand.” Ross glanced at my figures and waved a dismissive hand. “Those are just the obvious costs! What about overhead? Does the office internet pay for itself? Do the lights and computers run on magic? What about the rent? Those are all costs!” I was floored. I couldn’t believe he had the gall to say that. But I was done arguing. I drew a line through my numbers and subtracted another twenty thousand. “There aren’t that many people in this company. You can’t pin the entire office’s utility bills on my project. Twenty thousand is more than generous. That still leaves two hundred and ninety thousand.” He was furious. “Are you an idiot?” he screamed. “What about the client kickback?!” Fine. I subtracted another ninety thousand. “Happy now? That’s still two hundred thousand left!” At this point, my commission had dwindled to just six thousand dollars. But I was determined. I was going to get every last cent of it. But I had clearly overestimated Ross’s moral character. He was cornered. He glared at the paper, his face twisting in anger. Suddenly, he pointed a trembling finger at me. “Fine! You want to play with numbers? Let me tell you something. Without this company, you’re nothing! You want to calculate costs? You’re the biggest cost of all!” I almost laughed. I was so angry, a laugh actually escaped. I had worked my ass off for this company, poured my soul into this project, not to mention the countless hours of unpaid overtime. And now, I was the biggest cost? “What cost am I, Ross?” I asked, my voice ice cold. “My salary is my salary, the commission is the commission. Don’t tell me you’re counting my salary as a project cost.” “Heather!” Ross roared. “Get in here! And bring Cole’s file! All of it!” A moment later, Heather walked in carrying a thick folder. I stood there, completely baffled. I worked diligently. What violations? What file? Heather shot me a cold smile and spread the documents across the desk, one by one. Ross was practically vibrating with rage. He jabbed a finger at the papers, spittle flying from his mouth. “I was trying to be nice! You got some nerve, arguing with me? Look at this! Since the day you started, how many times have you been late, left early, or been absent without leave? How do we calculate that!” I looked down at the printouts of my attendance records and my blood ran cold. So this was his “evidence.” I’d only ever seen this kind of thing in the news. Companies digging up years of attendance records to find a reason to fire someone. Even being one minute late or leaving thirty seconds early was counted. I never thought it would happen to me. I saw records dating back to 2022. Heather had them all printed out. Which meant Ross had been preparing this for a long time, just waiting for a moment to use it against me. He had gone back three full years, to the very beginning of my employment. I felt a chill run down my spine. No wonder people always said the smaller the company, the shadier it is. No wonder the project manager Ross forced out had warned me to watch my back. They had learned from bitter experience. Seeing me frozen in place, Ross sneered, “See for yourself. You should be grateful we’ve kept you around this long!” Heather added with a smirk, “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? You were pretty cocky when you were demanding an audit from me earlier. Don’t worry, I’ve got a record of everything.” I was shaking with rage. When I was hired, Ross himself told me that small companies were flexible and that clocking in was just a formality. Now, those same instances were being used as evidence against me. And many of those “late” arrivals were because I had been working at the office until three or four in the morning! How was I supposed to show up on time after that? I glared at Heather. “Are you serious?! You know damn well why I was late!” She stared past me, a smug look on her face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You never reported anything to me.” “I was working overtime on the project!” I yelled. “Ross knew! How could I possibly get up on time after working that late?” “Did we force you to work overtime?” she retorted, her voice dripping with condescension. “No. That sounds like a personal efficiency problem.” She threw her hands up. “Why should we have to pay for your problems?” She glanced at Ross and his wife, who both nodded in approval. Looking at her smug, punchable face, I felt a murderous rage boil up inside me. I had voluntarily worked overtime to get the project done, and now they were using it as leverage against me. And to think, I was actually going to return their three million dollars. Just then, the boss’s wife coughed. “That’s enough, Heather. No need to rub it in. Why don’t you step out and let me have a word with Cole.” Heather shot me a look of contempt. “I just can’t stand his arrogance. My brother-in-law is a successful business owner, and even he doesn’t nitpick over every penny like this.” She gathered the attendance records from the desk and reluctantly left the office. Once she was gone, the wife put on a sincere expression. She sighed and said, “Cole, I don’t usually get involved in company business, but you’ve really gone too far this time.” “How have I gone too far?” I asked, confused. “Relationships are a two-way street,” she said sagely. “How your boss treats you, and how you treat him in return… it’s all very clear, isn’t it?” Ross, hearing his wife’s words, put on a magnanimous air. “Cole, I might have been a bit heated earlier. But think about it. Without the company as a platform, where would you get the chance to manage a project like this? I gave you an opportunity. And what do you do? Instead of being grateful, you turn on me.” I stared at them, dumbfounded. How could they say things like that? This was a simple business transaction: I do the work, you pay me. But in their world, my job was some kind of moral test. It was an opportunity they had graciously bestowed upon me, and I was expected to be eternally grateful. But one thing his wife said stuck with me. Relationships are a two-way street. They were clever. But I wasn’t a fool anymore. “Are you sure about that?” I asked coldly. “That it’s a two-way street?” “Of course,” she said. “As long as you buckle down and do your job from now on, we can pretend none of this ever happened.” “And the commission is off the table?” I pressed. “What do you think?” Ross snapped. “Of course, you’re free to leave the company. In that case, I’ll just consider that three thousand dollars as a handout to an ungrateful dog.” I nodded. “Alright. I’ll think about it.” The wife smiled. “We know this is a lot to take in… Why don’t you take some time? We have to go meet a client, but we’ll be right back.” With that, she grabbed Ross and they hurried out of the office. As I watched them leave, a stampede of a thousand wild animals thundered through my mind. This was absolutely insane. These two bloodsucking capitalists reneged on a promised commission, threatened me with termination, and were now trying to gaslight me? Fine. Let’s play. Even if I lose my job, I’m out a few months’ salary. But you two? You won’t see a single cent of that three million dollars by the end of today. I took a moment to calm myself. The coast was clear. I pulled out my phone and called my wife. “Honey,” I said, “I need you to go to the bank right now. Withdraw the maximum amount you can from my account. In cash.” She was terrified. “Did you do something illegal?” “Don’t ask questions. Just get the money. I’ll explain everything tonight.” After hanging up, I dialed another number, a supplier. “Hey, Sam? It’s Cole. I need you to find out how much money our company owes in outstanding debts. The boss is settling all accounts today.” Sam was ecstatic. “What?! Did hell freeze over? Since when does that deadbeat Ross pay his bills?” “No time to explain. Just find out who else he owes money to, and fast!” “Well, I know of at least five or six other suppliers off the top of my head,” he said. “We’re talking two, maybe three million in total.” “Perfect,” I said, my heart pounding. “Tell every single one of them to get down to the office right now. If they’re late, I can’t guarantee they’ll get paid.” Sam was skeptical. “Brother, are you messing with me? We’ve tried to collect from that bastard a dozen times. He always dodges us.” “He’ll see you today,” I assured him. “If security tries to stop you at the door, just force your way up.” After hanging up, worried he still might not believe me, I sent him a screenshot of the three-million-dollar deposit. A series of three triumphant emojis popped up in response, and then silence. Just as I finished my calls, the boss walked back in, looking pleased as punch.

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My daughter wanted a face tattoo—right in the middle of her forehead. I, being a sane mother, stopped her. She listened then, but after she turned eighteen, everything changed. She became a miserable corporate drone, while her old high school friends were becoming TikTok famous and driving Maseratis. She resented me. She was convinced I was the obstacle blocking her path to wealth. The hate festered until today, when she cornered me on the balcony with a knife, intent on stabbing me. I held up one hand to stop her, and with the other, I opened a PowerPoint presentation I’d been compiling since she was a toddler. “Hold on,” I said. “Let’s look at the receipts.” Chapter 1 My daughter, Chloe, is a moron. I’ve known this since she was little. Her favorite hobby is blaming me for her own incompetence. If she got a 50 on a math test, it was my fault for not arranging her breakfast bacon and eggs into a ‘100’. If her crush rejected her love letter, it was my fault for not buying her Sephora makeup. She has the exact same personality as her deadbeat father. Knowing this kid was a lost cause, I dragged her through college, paid her way, and we made a pact: once she graduated, we were done. No contact, dead to each other. I didn’t expect her to show up three years later. She was holding a phone, livestreaming, standing on my balcony surrounded by shattered glass. Her eyes were bloodshot, muttering into the camera: “Mom, if you had just let me be a streamer back then, I’d be driving a Maserati right now.” “Mom, you ruined my life. Do you know that? I’ve spent my whole life trying to heal from my unhappy childhood. I am repressed, I am lost, and I am suffocating.” The livestream chat was flying by, filled with agreement. [Toxic families are the worst. Parents with no vision really ruin everything.] [Talk about extinguishing a fire before it even starts. RIP your potential.] [Ignorant parents really do delay their kids’ lives.] I sighed. As Chloe took a step closer with the knife, I didn’t panic. I just reached out a hand to stop her. “Hold on.” “Why don’t we take a look at the ‘Growth Diary’ I’ve kept for you since you were small?” Chloe froze. She hadn’t expected this reaction. She glanced at the chat. Seeing that her viewers were curious about what I had documented, she decided to humor me. I opened the file. It was so massive it nearly crashed my laptop. It contained every event, big and small, regarding Chloe. I connected the laptop to a projector and threw the PowerPoint onto the living room wall for her viewers to see. “Mom, you destroyed me! Do you feel zero guilt?” Chloe sat on the sofa with me, burying her face in her hands, sobbing and rambling for the camera. She was really acting her heart out. I ignored it and clicked the first slide. Title: Chloe’s Growth Diary. Subtitle: Evidence for when she inevitably denies reality. The chat exploded. [This feels oppressive. Is she gonna invoice her for every cent spent since childhood?] [No wonder the streamer hates her mom.] [Support the streamer! A woman without maternal love doesn’t deserve to be a mother.] I scrolled to the second slide: The Table of Contents. There were over a hundred subheadings. I asked, “Tell me, what exactly are you dissatisfied with regarding your upbringing? Speak up. I’ll answer every point.” Chloe was shocked by my PPT. It took her a while to stammer out an accusation: “When I was little… we went to Grandma’s house. I broke something, and you slapped me in front of all the relatives.” “Do you know how much trauma a slap causes a person?” Chapter 2 The chat immediately started empathizing. [I get it. Once I broke a bowl and my dad nearly broke my arm.] [Don’t cry over spilled milk. I wish parents understood this.] I thought Chloe sounded like a braying donkey with her crying. I dug a finger in my ear, then moved the mouse to navigate to that specific page. The slide was dense with text recording the event. Date: February 9, 1997. Lunar New Year, Day 3. Visiting Grandma. Entry: The child insisted on jumping up and down on the wooden cover of the outhouse cesspit. She fell into the shit. She ruined her new clothes, but seeing as she had already swallowed a few mouthfuls of sewage and was crying hysterically, I held back my temper. The chat filled with “Hahahaha.” I glanced at my daughter’s face. Veins popped on Chloe’s forehead. She slammed her fist on the sofa. “Don’t change the subject! Why did you slap me in front of everyone later?” [Almost got distracted by the mom. She’s posting her daughter’s embarrassing moments just to whitewash herself, right?] [Is it just me, or is this terrifying? Socially executing your daughter with childhood stories.] [Honestly, my heart aches for the streamer. Parents never empathize. No wonder Asian households produce so much depression.] I sighed helplessly and scrolled to the next slide. The text read clearly: We told Chloe to light incense for her late Grandfather. She held the incense and asked why Grandpa had turned into a jar. She asked if Grandpa learned the art of ‘Bone Shrinking Kung Fu’. We laughed through tears at her innocent words and didn’t think much of it. Later, while we were eating, we heard a loud crash. Chloe had smashed my father’s urn. A gust of wind blew through the open door, and my father drifted away in the breeze. He was literally scattered to the winds. She said she ‘wanted to see how Grandpa fit inside.’ My mother passed out cold on the spot. I walked over and slapped her twice. Damn kid. The chat moved beyond “Hahahaha.” [Sis… the fact that you’re still alive is proof of a mother’s love.] [Just a slap? I would have been beaten to death.] Seeing the tide turning against her, Chloe started wailing. “Were you not at fault too? You guys just brushed me off! You didn’t explain it clearly! I was so little, I didn’t know what death meant!” The chat, fickle as grass in the wind, swayed back to her. [True, the adults share responsibility. Kids are just curious.] “Fine! Breaking the urn was my fault! But what about the next year? I was helping Uncle chop firewood, and you beat me again! Just because I was the older sister and didn’t let my cousin play with the axe?” The chat empathized again. [As an older sister, I was always told to yield to my brother. But I was a kid too!] [Why can’t parents ever protect their own children?] I looked at the chat, speechless, then turned to my daughter. “Are you sure you want me to say it?” Chapter 3 Chloe froze for a second, then grit her teeth. “Mom, what else can you twist? If you just apologize to me, I’m willing to forgive you. As long as you stop blocking my streaming career.” [Asian parents will spend their whole lives avoiding an apology.] [I’m crying. I’ve spent my life begging for a ‘sorry’.] I smiled. “Since you put it that way, let me help you recall why I beat you that time.” Date: January 30, 1998. Lunar New Year, Day 3. Entry: I didn’t want to bring Chloe to her grandmother’s, but Grandma missed her. This time, we didn’t let her near the altar. My brother was chopping wood with a large axe. Chloe wanted to try. My brother pushed her away, saying it was dangerous, and told her to go play. Chloe insisted on helping. My brother refused, saying the logs were too big, but promised she could help with kindling tomorrow. Chloe nodded innocently. I let my guard down and went to the kitchen. Suddenly, I heard my mother scream. I ran out to the yard. My mother had fainted (again). My nephew was wrestling Chloe for the axe. And on the chopping block lay my father’s wooden memorial tablet, split perfectly in two. Chloe got a severe beating that day. [Fortune Teller: You have two tribulations after death. Grandpa: Huh?] [Who chops up their grandpa’s spirit tablet for firewood?!] My daughter was losing her mind. She cried, snot and tears flowing freely. Just as I was about to ask if I was being too harsh, she looked up, eyes bloodshot. “These were mistakes I made when I was little! But why did you murder my dog, Buster? Just because Dad gave him to me?!” The chat boiled over instantly. This time, they attacked me. [She’s venomous. Anyone who abuses pets deserves to be struck by lightning.] [I can’t stand this. The mother is psychologically twisted. The daughter’s mistakes were childhood ignorance, but the mother is an adult killing animals? That’s terrifying.] [I had a pet rabbit once. My mom cooked it and forced me to eat it.] Chloe seemed certain I had no evidence for this. She grabbed my hand, stopping the mouse, and screamed, “Answer me! Don’t use your fake evidence to distract everyone! Just answer one sentence: Did you kill Buster? Yes or no!” I looked at my daughter’s sad face, seeing the calculation in her eyes. I nodded and admitted it. “Yes, it was me.” [Holy sh*t, she admitted it. So gross. Some people are just sick. No wonder the daughter wants to kill her.] [An unhappy childhood really takes a lifetime to heal. The daughter is so gentle, only asking for an apology.] Seeing the support rolling in and convinced I had no proof, Chloe’s voice grew firmer. “Mom, you will always be my mom. As long as you admit you wronged me all these years, and call Dad to apologize to him too, I’m willing to let everything go and live with you again.” [The streamer is too kind. A villain like this mom deserves to die, just like the dog she killed.] [So Asian parents only care about grades, not their child’s mental health? They don’t care about anything except achievement.] [She probably killed the dog because it distracted the daughter from studying. Right in front of her face, too.] Chloe’s eyes were swollen red, snot dripping as she yelled, “Mom, is apologizing to me that hard?” I looked at my suffering daughter, my heart as still as water. [God, look at that cold expression. Is that really a mother looking at her daughter?] [The mom doesn’t know how lucky she is to have such a good daughter.] I spoke calmly. “Are you so sure I don’t have evidence from back then?” Chloe went rigid. Her voice trembled. “Your so-called evidence is just you typing on a keyboard! You can type whatever you want!” [True. Text evidence isn’t convincing. Especially regarding animal abuse, text won’t convince me.] [This person isn’t fit to be a mother. She’s an animal.] I smiled faintly, remembering all the losses I suffered with her deadbeat father because I didn’t keep receipts. “Of course I have more than text…” I shook off Chloe’s hand and scrolled to Slide 157. A photo of my daughter and the so-called “puppy.” The word “puppy” obscured the key information. The “puppy” was actually a massive, aggressive breed, sitting as tall as ten-year-old Chloe. When Buster’s photo appeared, the chat jumped. [That… is a puppy? Feels like it could bite my head off.] [Don’t be scared guys, that dog eats people and leaves.] I stared dead at Chloe. “Do you want me to repeat why Buster was euthanized?” She dodged my gaze. But thinking of something, she stared back. “Mom, even if Buster chewed up your purse, you didn’t have to kill him!” The chat was led astray again. [Big or small, abuse is wrong!] [This woman is scary. A few words and a pic almost swayed me, but the point is she killed a pet!] I looked at my unrepentant daughter and dropped the Hammer. I scrolled to the next slide. Chapter 4 Chloe is shrewd. She assumed that since the incident happened in a small county town years ago, even if it made the news, the records would be gone. She was wrong. If I’m building a chain of evidence, I ensure integrity. Text isn’t enough, so I kept the images. I zoomed in on the photo in the PPT. It was a scan of an old newspaper. I moved the mouse slowly to ensure everyone in the livestream could read the text. The bold black headline read: UNLEASHED AGGRESSIVE DOG MAULS INFANT GIRL’S FACE. Below it was a photo of Buster, muzzle covered in blood, staring ferociously at the camera. And a photo of a baby girl, pixelated, but clearly missing a large chunk of flesh from her cheek. I sighed. Even looking at it now, I felt guilt towards that little girl. I had always opposed my ex-husband getting that dog for Chloe. I planned to send it to a friend’s farm to be kept in a kennel. But my ex-husband, while I was at work, secretly told Chloe to take Buster out to “prove he wouldn’t hurt anyone.” And so, the tragedy happened. The next slide showed Buster being euthanized, along with the vet records. [My god. Just euthanasia? If I were that baby’s parent, I would have stewed that dog.] [I actually found the article. The auntie isn’t lying. She paid for the girl’s reconstructive surgery and compensation. The dad who bought the dog went into hiding. Auntie has morals.] [Raising a demon child is exhausting. No wonder she cut contact.] Chloe froze. She hadn’t expected me to keep such complete evidence. She panicked for a moment, stuttering, “You… I… You…” Seeing she had nothing to say, the chat turned on her, calling her a plague, a psycho, trying to pin her sins on her “native family.” Chloe panicked, but after a moment, her eyes lit up. She found an angle. “Mom, that incident was my fault. But why did you read a boy’s love letter to me in front of the whole class?” “Your own daughter is precious, but other people’s sons can be bullied by you?” The comment section exploded again. The netizens couldn’t sit still. [This mom is insane. That counts as abuse, right?] [Taking back what I said about her morals. Publicly humiliating a child is low no matter the reason.] [Die, b*tch. You deserve your daughter trying to kill you.] Chloe avoided my gaze. I looked at her calmly. “Are you sure you want me to say it?”

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I’m shallow. I like pretty things. Specifically, pretty boys. After asking out the class heartthrob, Asher Vance, for the 99th time, he still coldly rejected me. I overheard his friends laughing about it later. “Uh oh, Asher hesitated this time.” “I heard she wants to go to the same college as you.” “Are we going to be drinking at your wedding after graduation?” Asher threw a basketball at them in disgust. “Don’t associate me with that kind of shallow girl. It makes me sick.” On the first day of college, I bumped into Asher at the campus gate, holding a box of freshly baked cupcakes. His eyes lit up when he saw me, then he awkwardly looked away. “Don’t bake for me next time. I don’t like sweet things.” I looked past him at the campus crush standing not far away. Sigh. How do I explain to Asher that the person who loves sweet things is actually my boyfriend? Chapter 1 I’m an average girl. Average hair, average face, average everything. But that doesn’t stop me from appreciating beauty. As my mom always says: “Men are all the same anyway, so you might as well pick a handsome one. At least you won’t wake up in the middle of the night crying because there’s a beast lying next to you.” I took that to heart. Since I was little, I only chased the best-looking boys. If I couldn’t get the cutest boy in first period, I’d go for the one in second period. If that failed, third period. You get the idea. In high school, most guys hit that awkward puberty phase where their looks took a nose dive. Only Asher Vance stood out. He was breathtakingly handsome. So, naturally, I locked onto him. Asher was smart, handsome, and played the violin. When he stood on stage, eyes lowered, long fingers flying over the strings, he looked like a painting. After his performance, applause filled the auditorium. But the sound of my own heart beating was louder than anything else. The first time I confessed my feelings to Asher, he asked coldly: “Hazel, what do you like about me?” I tilted my head, thought about it seriously, and answered: “You’re the best-looking guy in school.” He sneered. “Everyone who chases me says that.” “Too bad. I hate girls like you the most.” Damn. Even when he was mocking me, he was beautiful. I was so mesmerized by his face that I didn’t really process what his little mouth was saying. I don’t know which part annoyed him. From that day on, he hated me. He hated the warm milk I slipped into his desk every morning. He hated seeing me hand him water on the basketball court. He hated our “accidental” encounters even more. But for that face, I endured it all. I was Asher’s shadow for three years. I confessed so many times I lost count. And unsurprisingly, I was rejected every time. My best friends were frustrated. “Hazel, this isn’t how you chase a guy. The internet calls this ‘simp behavior’.” Is it? So be it. I scratched my head calmly. They don’t understand. I simp because the view is worth it. Chapter 2 It was Asher’s birthday. I stood outside the private room of the karaoke bar, holding a carefully wrapped gift. The conversation inside drifted out clearly. “Ash, be honest, do you have feelings for Hazel?” I stopped, eavesdropping through the crack in the door. “Uh oh, he’s silent.” “I knew you hesitated when you rejected her last time.” Someone started evaluating me. “Hazel’s face is mid, but she’s got a great body. Plus, she’s a total simp, easy to control.” “Ash likes the ‘butterface’ type. Lights off, it’s all the same, right? It’s all about the feel. Hahaha.” “I heard she applied to the same college as you.” “Are we going straight to your wedding after graduation?” The laughter grew louder. Thud. A basketball slammed into someone. A grunt of pain, then silence. The noisy room went dead quiet. Asher stood up. On that beautiful face, his expression was twisted with anger. “Great body? Easy to control?” “If you like her so much, date her yourself.” “Don’t associate me with that kind of shallow girl. It makes me sick.” I looked down at the canvas bag in my hands. It had started raining on my way here. I didn’t have an umbrella, so I was soaked. But the bag was dry, protected in my embrace. Inside was the sheet music for Chopin’s Tristesse (The Farewell Waltz). It was the birthday gift I had spent forever choosing for Asher. I wanted to tell him that even after graduation, we would meet again at our dream college. If he was willing, we would start a new chapter. There would be no farewell. “My bad…” “Hazel isn’t good enough for you, Ash. I shouldn’t have said anything.” The guys inside were apologizing. Asher’s friends always had trash mouths. But his answer still echoed in my mind, refusing to fade. Suddenly, it all felt pointless. That face I could stare at forever… how could it say such hurtful things? I gently placed the music book on the floor, turned around, and left without looking back. Chapter 3 The next day, I called in sick for the morning. As soon as I pulled out my books in the afternoon, Asher walked over. He knocked on my desk. “Hazel, homework.” His tone carried a hint of dissatisfaction. “Finals are right around the corner. Where were you yesterday? I didn’t see you.” “I came to school yesterday. I turned in my homework on time too.” I didn’t understand where his interrogation was coming from. “Yeah, you were at school, but yesterday was my birthday. You didn’t come to my…” I couldn’t help but interrupt him. “You hate me so much. Shouldn’t you be happier that I wasn’t at your party?” My voice sounded like a broken gong from being sick. Asher choked on his words. He froze, his anger dissipating. “Your voice… were you sick yesterday?” The next second, Asher tossed a box of medicine onto my desk. “Don’t run around after school. Getting sick now will affect your finals.” He paused. “Don’t misunderstand. As class president, it’s my duty to monitor everyone’s study condition.” “You said you wanted to get into Stanford.” Stanford had always been Asher’s dream. Even though Berkeley was a better fit for me, I had always planned to apply to Stanford, to be someone standing in his bright future. But I didn’t think that way anymore. I decided to apply to Berkeley. But I didn’t plan on telling Asher I changed my mind. I just gave a perfunctory answer: “Thanks, Mr. President. I’ll work hard.” Asher smirked with satisfaction. He instinctively raised his hand, as if he wanted to pat my head. Or maybe I was imagining it. The hand hovered awkwardly in mid-air, then dropped back to his side. Before leaving, he dropped a confusing sentence: “If you have any math questions, you can ask me anytime.” “Helping you get into Stanford is also my duty as class president.” He emphasized the last few words, as if worried I would get the wrong idea. Or maybe he was saying it to himself. Chapter 4 After finals, everyone got busy. Graduation, applications, results… Summer moved forward methodically, accompanied by the endless drone of cicadas. Near the start of the semester, my best friend dragged me to a high school reunion. Seeing me, she screamed: “Omg! You got a perm! It’s so pretty!” “When you get to Stanford, you’re going to dazzle Asher, that poser.” I felt a little guilty. “Actually, I didn’t apply to Stanford. I got into Berkeley.” “And I have a boyfriend. We’re just waiting for school to start to meet up.” Her eyes widened in shock. “You chased Asher for three years, dropped him just like that, and got a boyfriend this fast?!” “How did you meet?” Under her interrogation, I confessed: “His name is Julian. I saw him in the comments section of the Berkeley confessions page.” Thinking of Julian’s handsome face, I blushed slightly. “I didn’t want to move on so fast, but he’s just too good-looking!” “And Julian was so easy to chase. We added each other, chatted for a few days, and he said yes when I confessed.” My friend squeezed closer, demanding to see Julian’s photo. “Holy crap. I approve of this marriage. He is genuinely hot!” Just then. A familiar, clear male voice sounded from behind. Asher stood behind me, a rare, warm smile on his lips. “Hazel, I heard you got in too?” “Congratulations.”

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My husband, David, had been overseas for six months on a research fellowship, leaving me to manage life and our daughter, Lily, on my own. The daily school run was my responsibility. Jenna, the mother of Lily’s best friend, asked if we could carpool. She said we could look out for each other, and I agreed. She was a warm, friendly woman, always ready with a bag of snacks for the girls when she climbed into the car. But there was one thing about her that grated on my nerves. She had a habit of prying, subtly digging for details about my job, my income, and even whether or not my husband and I were getting a divorce. I had to draw a line. I told her to respect my privacy, or she’d have to find another ride. She backed off for a couple of days, but then I stumbled upon a gossip thread on a local community forum. [DEEP DIVE] The Porsche-driving soccer mom in my neighborhood, living all alone. Rich, dumb, and waiting for a new man. Got all the inside info, DM for details, highest bidder wins. A few days later, a black sedan started tailing my car. And Jenna, sitting in my passenger seat, was secretly tapping out a message on her phone. 1 The post was trending. The replies were a cesspool of vulgar comments. The original poster’s username was “GoWithTheFlow,” and their IP address was local. The post laid out the “subject’s” details with unnerving accuracy: Drives a white Porsche Cayenne. Husband’s abroad, probably abandoned her. Lives in The Grandview Estates. Drops her kid off at Bright Horizons Academy every morning at 8 AM. It even described the little teddy bear charm hanging from my daughter’s backpack. But the detail that sent a chill down my spine was the photo. It was taken from the passenger’s seat. A candid shot of my profile and my phone resting on the center console. The screen was lit up, showing my chat window with David. Though it was slightly blurred, I recognized the trench coat I was wearing. I had worn it last Wednesday. And last Wednesday, the only person who had been in my passenger seat was Jenna. My fingers went cold as I held the phone, not from fear, but from a white-hot rage. I had been nothing but kind to her. Her house wasn’t far from mine, and with her husband working as a long-haul trucker, I knew it wasn’t easy for her to raise her daughter alone. When she’d complained about her electric scooter being too cold in the winter and asked for a ride, she’d offered to pay for gas. I refused the money, thinking it was no trouble to help a friend. I had treated her like a friend. She had treated me like a product for sale. The last line of the post was chillingly clear: Interested parties, DM for her detailed schedule and opportunities for an introduction. Success guaranteed. Price negotiable. Someone had replied: For real? Aren’t rich women like her hard to get? “GoWithTheFlow” had answered: Don’t worry, her husband’s gone. She’s lonely. With the right moves, she’s an easy catch. This one’s a whale. One score and you’ll be set for three years. I took a deep breath, screenshot everything, and turned off my phone. The next morning, I pulled up to the curb outside my building as usual. Jenna appeared, holding her daughter Daisy’s hand, a bright, sunny smile on her face. “Morning, Megan!” She opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, a practiced move by now. She handed me an insulated bag. “I made some brown sugar muffins this morning. They’re still warm. For Lily’s breakfast.” If I hadn’t seen that post, I would have thought she was a thoughtful, caring mother. But now, looking at the crinkles around her smiling eyes, all I felt was disgust. “Thanks, but Lily already ate,” I said coolly, not taking the bag. Jenna paused for a fraction of a second, then smoothly retracted her hand and buckled her seatbelt. “Hey, Megan, shouldn’t you get your car serviced? I think that little light on the dashboard is on.” She pointed, leaning forward, but her eyes darted toward my phone. I picked up the phone and placed it face down in the armrest compartment. “It’s not on. You’re seeing things.” Jenna gave a weak laugh and pulled out her own phone, her thumbs immediately starting to fly. As we merged onto the main road, I watched her in the rearview mirror. Her fingers moved at lightning speed across the screen, her expression focused, a strange, knowing smirk occasionally touching her lips. At the same time, I noticed it. A black Hyundai sedan in the mirror, keeping a steady distance behind us. I changed lanes. It changed lanes. I sped up. It sped up. The light ahead turned red, and I eased onto the brake. Jenna suddenly looked up, her voice laced with an odd urgency. “You’re such a steady driver, Megan. But this intersection is a real accident hotspot. You should be careful.” The words were barely out of her mouth when a deafening crash jolted the car. The impact was violent. My seatbelt dug hard into my chest, and from the back seat, Lily screamed in terror. We’d been rear-ended. 2 My first instinct was to twist around and soothe my daughter. Once I was sure she wasn’t hurt, I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out. The car behind us was the black Hyundai. Its front end was crumpled, pressed tightly against my rear bumper. The driver’s door opened, and a man in a black leather jacket stepped out. He looked to be in his early thirties, his hair slicked back with too much gel, a tacky gold chain around his neck. His eyes darted around nervously. He didn’t look at the damage first. He looked at me. There was something in his gaze that made my skin crawl. It was invasive, predatory. “Whoa, hey, beautiful! My bad, my bad! Totally spaced out for a second!” he exclaimed, his voice overly loud. He moved closer, and a wave of cheap cologne and stale cigarette smoke washed over me. I took a step back and pulled out my phone to take pictures. “You want to go through insurance, or handle this privately?” I asked. Before the man could answer, Jenna burst out of the passenger side. “Oh my God, look at this mess!” She ran up to the man, pretending to inspect the damage before turning to me with a frantic look. “Megan, this is going to cost a fortune to fix! I don’t think this gentleman did it on purpose, and he seems really sorry. Maybe we can just talk it out?” I watched her performance with cold eyes. Not once had she asked if the child in the car was okay. The man in the leather jacket immediately jumped in. “Yeah, beautiful, look, I’m in a huge hurry. This is your fault… no, wait, my fault. It’s all my fault, I admit it.” He pulled out his phone and held a QR code up to me. “I don’t have any cash on me, and I… uh… I don’t have insurance. How about this? We can connect on social media. You send me the bill for the repairs, and I’ll transfer the money right over. Promise. I’m in construction, this is nothing to me.” No insurance? A businessman in construction with no car insurance? The lie was almost laughable. “I’m not adding you. We’ll go through the police.” I turned to dial 911. Jenna grabbed my hand. “Megan, don’t be so difficult! The man said he’ll pay. Calling the cops is such a hassle. We’ll have to get damage assessments, and we’re already late getting the kids to school.” As she spoke, she shot me a desperate look, as if to say, He’s cute, just play along. “He seems like a nice guy, and he’s not bad looking,” she hissed under her breath. “Just make a new friend. You never know when you’ll need one.” Her voice was sharp, grating. I shook her hand off. “If you’re such good friends, why don’t you pay for him?” Jenna’s face fell, her expression turning ugly. “What is wrong with you? I’m trying to help you out here!” Seeing his opening, the man swaggered a step closer, his tone becoming sleazy. “Hey, gorgeous, don’t be like that. Adding me online won’t hurt. I’ve always heard that women who drive Cayennes have class. Now I see it’s true.” As he spoke, he reached out to put a hand on my shoulder. I twisted away, pointing a sharp finger at the traffic camera on the corner. “Back off. This entire intersection is under surveillance. You touch me, and this stops being about a fender-bender.” His hand froze in mid-air. A flicker of malice crossed his face before he plastered on the same smarmy grin. “Alright, alright, no touching. So what’s the plan?” “I’m calling the police.” I dialed the number right in front of them. Jenna stomped her foot in frustration, muttering just loud enough for me to hear, “Stubborn bitch. No wonder you don’t have a man.” The police arrived quickly and determined the other driver was 100% at fault. Since he was uninsured, it would be a complicated process to get the money for repairs, requiring official assessments and legal claims. By the time we were done, an hour had passed. After dropping the kids at school, Jenna didn’t leave as she usually did. Instead, she lingered in the car. “Megan, that guy, Rick? I was looking at his social media. It’s all pictures of luxury cars and fancy watches. I think he might actually be a big shot.” She was scrolling through her phone. She had already added him. I ignored her and started the car. She kept rambling. “He told me he really admires independent women like you. He even said he wants to take you out to dinner to apologize. Come on, Megan. David’s been gone for so long. Don’t you ever just want… someone to talk to?” I slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt at the side of the road. Jenna lurched forward, startled. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?” “Get out,” I said. “What?” “Don’t get in my car again. We’re not on the same route anymore.” Jenna’s eyes widened in disbelief. She clearly hadn’t expected me to be so blunt. “Megan, what the hell is your problem? I’m trying to hook you up, and this is the thanks I get? You kick me out? You think you’re better than everyone just because you drive a stupid Porsche?” I turned and stared directly into her eyes. “You know I drive a Porsche, Jenna. Not a garbage truck.” Her face turned a mottled shade of purple. “Fine, Megan. You think you’re so tough. We’ll see.” She slammed the door and stormed off.

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I grew up in the slums, surviving by digging through trash. On my eighteenth birthday, a barrage of comments appeared before my eyes. 【Damn, CEO Shen’s real daughter is still eating garbage. This experiment is brutal!】 【Seriously. To test his “nature vs. nurture” theory, Shen swapped his twin daughters. The real heiress grew up in the slums, while the adopted one lived as a princess in a mansion.】 【Now the adopted daughter, Aurora Lin, is worth billions, while the real one, Stella Lin, is still dumpster diving. The results are pretty clear!】 I wiped the grime from my hands. My gaze drifted to the massive LED screen on the luxury mall across the street. The face of “Aurora Lin” smiled down. A face identical to my own, advertising a high-end brand. 1 Her face was a portrait of laughter—exquisite, flawless, like a meticulously polished diamond. And I was a stone, covered in dust. 【The necklace she’s wearing today is the ‘Heart of the Deep Sea,’ auctioned for ninety million. CEO Shen bought it specially for her eighteenth birthday.】 【And what did Stella Lin get for her eighteenth birthday? Oh, a slap from her foster mother and being called a waste of money.】 【So tragic. The comparison is just brutal.】 The words on the screen were like needles, pricking my mind. I looked down at the half-eaten, moldy piece of bread in the trash can. My dinner for the night. A shrill voice cut through the air from behind me. “Stella Lin! Where the hell have you been? I told you to get soy sauce! Lazing around digging through trash for food again, are you?!” It was my foster mother, Martha. She charged at me, grabbing a fistful of my hair and slamming my head against the dumpster. “Just like your good-for-nothing dead mother! A worthless piece of trash! All you know is how to eat!” “Wasting our food all day long! Why don’t you just die!” The metal edge of the bin scraped against my temple. It hurt. The taste of blood filled my mouth. 【Here we go, the daily abuse.】 【This foster mother is something else. Where did CEO Shen even find such a horrible person?】 【For the sake of the experiment’s authenticity, of course. He needed the most hostile environment possible.】 I didn’t fight back. After eighteen years, I was used to it. When Martha was done yelling, she spat on me and sauntered off. “No dinner for you tonight! Get lost!” I steadied myself against the wall and slowly pulled myself up. A black Bentley pulled up silently in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing a perfectly made-up face. It was Aurora Lin’s chief assistant, a woman named Chloe. I’d seen her in countless business magazines, always with an air of superiority. Now, she pinched her nose, her eyes scanning me with disgust. “You’re Stella Lin?” I didn’t answer, just stared at her. 【Holy shit! The main event is here to deliver the final blow?】 【Nope, she’s here to deliver the humiliation. I remember this part, it’s about to get intense!】 Chloe took out an exquisitely packaged food container from the car and tossed it on the ground. Food spilled everywhere, mixing with the mud. “Miss Aurora was worried about you, afraid you’d be hungry.” She spoke in a gentle, cooing tone, as if soothing a pet. “She said these are leftovers from her banquet, specially packed for you.” “She also said you should be used to the taste. After all, everything from a garbage dump tastes the same, right?” She covered her mouth and giggled. “Oh, right. Miss Aurora is live-streaming right now. She wants you to say hello to her fans.” She turned her phone screen towards me. On the screen, Aurora sat in a pristine, lavish room, smiling sweetly at the camera. The comments in the live chat scrolled by at a frantic pace. 【Hahaha, Aurora is so kind, still thinking about her sister in the trash heap.】 【Oh my god, she’s so filthy. Get away from her!】 【Make her eat it! Make her get on the ground and eat! I want to watch!】 Aurora’s voice, laced with an innocent cruelty, came from the phone. “Stella, hurry up and eat. Don’t waste my kind gesture.” “Everyone’s watching. You don’t want to disappoint Dad, do you? He’s very interested in the results of this ‘environmental observation’.” Environmental observation. So that’s what it was. In their eyes, my life was just an observation. I looked at the food on the ground, then up at the face that was identical to mine. Slowly, so slowly, I crouched down. I picked up a piece of steak, caked in mud. Under the watchful eyes of Chloe and hundreds of thousands of people in the live stream. I brought it to my lips. Then, just as they were all watching in anticipation, I smiled. And I hurled that piece of steak right at the Bentley’s window. Grease instantly smeared across the expensive glass. Chloe’s smile froze on her face. 2 “Are you insane?!” Chloe’s shriek pierced the dim evening of the slum. She pointed a trembling finger at me, shaking with rage. “Do you have any idea how much this car costs? Can you afford to pay for it? You filthy, low-life piece of trash!” I ignored her tirade. I just stood up and walked towards her, one step at a time. I was filthy, reeking of the sour, rotting stench of the garbage dump. Chloe instinctively backed away until her back hit the cold metal of the car. “What do you want? I’m warning you, don’t do anything stupid!” 【YES! She’s finally fighting back!】 【Get her! That assistant is such a bully, I can’t stand her!】 【No, Stella, don’t! She’s Aurora’s lackey! If you touch her, Mr. Shen will not let you off easy!】 The comments were right to be worried. For the past eighteen years, I’d been beaten, humiliated, treated like a dog. I remember when I was seven, I had a fever so high I was on the verge of death. But Martha took the money for my medicine and used it to play mahjong. I lay on the cold floor, listening to the fireworks outside. The comments told me it was Aurora’s birthday. Her father, Julian Shen, had rented out all of Disneyland for her, with a fireworks display that lasted all night. I remember when I was twelve, I fainted at school from chronic malnutrition. My foster father, Mark, dragged me home, calling me a burden and telling me to go collect more bottles to sell. The comments told me that at the same time, Aurora was skiing in the Alps with a world champion as her private instructor. I remember when I was fifteen, I washed a classmate’s socks for a month in exchange for an old coat to get through the winter. When Martha saw it, she snatched it away to give to her own son and broke one of my ribs in the process. The comments told me that on the same day, Aurora’s closet was featured in a fashion magazine under the headline, “The Ever-Changing Wardrobe of the City’s Top Socialite.” Every single time, I had endured it silently. Because I knew that fighting back would only result in crueler treatment. But today was different. The moment I learned that everything I had suffered was just for an “experiment” to serve as someone else’s foil, to prove that I was inherently “inferior,” something inside me shattered completely. I walked up to Chloe and stopped. We were so close I could see the panic her expensive foundation couldn’t hide. I reached out my hand. She squeezed her eyes shut in fear. I didn’t hit her. I simply plucked the expensive fountain pen from her jacket pocket. A Montblanc, limited edition. I’d seen one before. Julian Shen had one on the cover of a business magazine. “What… what are you doing with my pen?” Chloe’s voice was trembling. I didn’t say anything. I just took the pen, turned, and walked to the front of the car. On the mirror-like hood, I carved, with force, three lines, one after the other. “MURDERER.” “PAY YOUR DEBTS.” “HEAVEN’S WRATH.” The sound of metal scraping against paint was sharp and piercing. Chloe’s face went from pale to ashen. “You… you…” She stammered, unable to form a complete sentence. On the other end of the live stream, Aurora had clearly seen what was happening. For the first time, her sweet voice was laced with genuine anger. “Stella Lin! Stop it! You’re ruining the birthday present Dad gave me!” Dad. The word sounded so natural coming from her lips, and so utterly ironic. I stopped carving and turned to the phone’s camera. For the first time in eighteen years, I was looking clearly, directly, into her world. “Tell Julian Shen.” My throat was dry, each word like sandpaper. “The experiment is over.” “Now, it’s my turn.” With that, I tossed the pen, now bent out of shape in my grip, back at Chloe. She shrieked as if she’d been burned and dropped it to the ground. 3 I turned and walked away, not once looking back at the defaced Bentley and the furious Chloe. 【Awesome! That was so satisfying! But I’m so scared for her!】 【Julian Shen is definitely going to lose it. That’s his precious adopted daughter!】 【Run, Stella! Find a place to hide!】 I didn’t run. This world was so big, yet there was no place for me. I went back to that place I was supposed to call “home.” The moment I walked in, Martha’s hand came flying at my face. “You little bitch! Where the hell have you been? Think you’ve grown wings, do you?” For the first time in eighteen years, I ducked. Martha froze, shocked that I would dare to dodge. “You dare defy me!” Her fury escalated. She lunged at me, claws out. Her son, Ben, a fifteen-year-old who was taller and heavier than me, charged in to grab me from behind. “Mom! Get her! We’ll beat this jinx to death today!” In the past, they would have pinned me to the ground, kicking and punching until they were tired. But today, I was done enduring. The second before Ben’s hands touched me, I sidestepped and kicked him hard in the knee. “Aaargh!” Ben howled in pain and collapsed, clutching his leg. Martha was stunned. “You… you dare hit my son!” I looked at her coldly. “He deserved it.” “You ungrateful brat! We raised you all these years for nothing!” Martha was trembling with rage. She grabbed a broom from the corner and swung it at my head. I didn’t dodge. I just reached out and caught the other end of the broomstick, holding it firm. We were at a stalemate. “Raised me for nothing?” I let out a laugh. It must have sounded ugly. “The orphan subsidy you get from the government every month… you haven’t spent a single penny of it on me, have you?” “I’ve been digging through trash to feed myself since I was six, and I have to give most of it to you, or I get beaten.” “The rent for this house? I pay for it. The food you eat? I buy it with money from selling plastic bottles.” “So who, exactly, is raising whom?” I had never said these words before. I thought that if I was obedient enough, I could earn a moment of peace. I was wrong. Mercy to wolves is cruelty to oneself. Martha’s face flushed red, then went pale. “You… you’re lying! We’ve been so good to you, and you slander us!” 【Hahaha, she’s panicking! Look at her!】 【Stella finally said it! I’ve been waiting for this!】 【Those two leeches deserve it!】 “We can go down to the community office and find out if I’m lying.” I yanked the broom from her grasp and threw it on the floor. “From today on, you won’t get another cent of my money.” “I’m terminating the lease on this place tomorrow. You can figure things out for yourselves.” With that, I turned and went into my tiny room, less than fifty square feet, and locked the door. I could hear Martha and Ben cursing and pounding on the door. “Stella Lin, you little animal! Get out here!” “You dare terminate the lease? I’ll break your legs!” I ignored them. I pulled out a rusty metal box from under my bed. Inside was every penny I had managed to save over the years. A total of three thousand, two hundred and six dollars and fifty cents. This was all I had to fight back with. 【That’s so little… what can she do with that?】 【Don’t lose hope! Stella’s knowledge is priceless! She knows more about recycling than anyone!】 【That’s right! She knows which circuit boards are the most valuable, which plastics sell for the highest price!】 The comments were encouraging me. I opened the tattered copy of the Recycling and Utilization of Renewable Resources Handbook, a treasure I’d found at a second-hand bookstore. I needed money. A lot of it. I needed a company. A company that would allow me to stand before Julian Shen. I didn’t want to be acknowledged by my family. I wanted to crush everything he was proud of under my feet. Just then, my beat-up phone rang. It was an unknown number. I hesitated for a moment, then answered. On the other end was the cold, emotionless voice of a man. “Stella Lin?” “I’m Julian Shen’s lawyer.” “Regarding the damage you caused to Miss Aurora Lin’s vehicle today, and the slander against Mr. Shen’s reputation, I am officially filing a lawsuit against you on behalf of my client.” “The compensation amount is three million dollars.” “Additionally, Mr. Shen asked me to relay a message.” The lawyer paused, his condescending tone practically dripping from the phone. “He said, since the game has started, you should play by the rules.” “He is very much looking forward to seeing what new tricks a rat like you, wallowing in the mud, can come up with.” The line went dead. Three million dollars. The number was like a mountain, crushing the air from my lungs. I looked at the crumpled three thousand dollars in my hand and laughed. Despair? No. Excitement. He had finally entered the game himself.

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Before the college entrance exams, the Billionaire’s heir was abruptly dumped by the campus queen. Gnawing on a plain bun, I approached him while he listlessly stared at his textbooks. “I look like her. Why don’t you chase me instead?” He was silent for a moment, then handed me the roses meant for her. I took his money with a clear conscience. I asked for a million a month; he sent two without a word. After we married, our intimacy was scheduled—four times a week, punctual, thorough, and attentive. Everyone said the young heir had found true love. Until one day, his assistant whispered to me: “That new secretary… I heard she was the campus queen back then. “Madam, Mr. Sterling seems very fond of her. He even gave her your favorite lounge…” 1 I went after Julian Sterling for the money. He was a hopeless romantic, willing to spend on his girlfriends. When I was starving and chewing on dry buns, I envied the campus queen, Chloe, wearing two-million-dollar earrings before even graduating. I couldn’t understand why she would dump the wealthy Julian for a scholarship student. So, when Chloe slapped Julian and walked away, I stopped her at the classroom door. “You really broke up?” She looked at my worn-out uniform with disdain and shook off my hand. “Yes, we broke up.” “Can I pursue him then?” She looked me up and down, laughing at my shabbiness. “Sure, go ahead. If you actually catch him, I’ll give you these earrings.” I stared at the earrings Julian had given her and nodded. But at the graduation party, when she saw Julian walk in with me on his arm, her smile froze. While Julian was in the restroom, she ordered a song for me. When the lyrics “cheating slut” played, the room went silent, everyone staring at me. “Sarah, you’re pathetic,” Chloe sneered. I knew what I was to Julian. But I still opened a bottle of wine and poured it all over Chloe’s head. I snatched her earrings. “A bet is a bet. If you didn’t want me to pursue him, you shouldn’t have gotten engaged to that poor boy.” “Sarah!” Chloe screamed and charged at me, but a strong force pulled me behind a back. Julian took the slap meant for me. He took me away from the bar and didn’t say a word all night. I think his heart was aching. I knew my place. I followed Chloe on Instagram. Every time she posted an outfit, I bought the same one. I wore them on our scheduled intimate nights. Every time he saw me wearing Chloe’s style, the emotion in his eyes was unreadable. I knew he secretly followed her too. Seeing me was like seeing his lost love. My best friend, Lily, was furious for me. “You’re his wife!” But I thought it was fine. I asked for a million a month; he sent two. I pushed my luck and asked for three. He sent five. Who cares about love when you live like this? I came from a loveless, penniless family. For a chance to make money, I would charge forward without shame. While Julian was still interested, I had to do my job. On our first anniversary, Chloe updated her Instagram. She got a butterfly tattoo on her neck. I cried from the pain, but after ten hours, I had the same tattoo on my neck. When Julian came out of the shower and saw the tattoo revealed by my purple lace camisole, he paused while drying his hair. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” “Don’t do that again.” He showed no interest in my butterfly. “Also, throw away all your purple clothes.” My heart sank. Purple was Chloe’s favorite color. Did he not want me to imitate his “white moonlight” anymore? Was my job as a stand-in coming to an end? “I mean, it hurts.” He flicked my forehead. “Even if you don’t imitate her, I’ll still give you plenty of money.” The next day, the maid took away all my purple clothes. I didn’t like purple anyway. The maid filled my closet with black dresses. I touched the exquisite fabric. So, Julian knew I liked black? But if I didn’t imitate Chloe, what about my job? So, I tentatively asked Julian for eight million. He gave me an unlimited black card. A customized couple’s edition. While shopping with Lily, she asked curiously: “Didn’t you say you’d take the money and run after five years? The time is almost up. When are you divorcing?” I stared at the baby clothes in the window, lost in thought. 2 I had been Julian’s stand-in for five years. So I didn’t know what loving someone should look like. I only remembered that before my mom left with another man, the thing she did that made me happiest was knitting me a scarf. Now my fingers were covered in bandaids, and the scarf was finished. But Julian didn’t seem to need it. Because today was our scheduled night, and he was thirty minutes late. I fell asleep on the sofa waiting. I was woken up by kisses. “Sorry, the partners added terms last minute. I’m late.” Julian unbuttoned his shirt, his breath hot yet controlled. For the first time, I pushed him away. “When do you plan to divorce?” His breath hitched. “What are you talking about?” I looked up at him. “I know she’s back. You gave her my favorite lounge. “I checked. My access to that lounge has been revoked.” His muscles tensed. “Julian, don’t worry. I won’t cling to you. I don’t want much alimony, just give me…” He had already picked up his phone, his tone colder than I had ever heard. “Secretary? What secretary? “What about the lounge? “Do you change my staff without my approval now?” On the other end, the HR director’s voice trembled: “Mr. Sterling, she showed photos of you two dating and said the Madam stole her man… “Madam does look like Ms. Chloe, and those photos were indeed you. We thought it was your intention…” Julian’s expression was icy. “Blacklist Chloe from the industry. I want to see Madam’s access restored within an hour. “And you, go to finance and pick up your final paycheck.” The director tried to explain, but Julian hung up. I looked at him in surprise. He turned and hugged me, kissing me hard: “Sorry, I didn’t know. I wasn’t at headquarters these days…” I believed that. He was always flying domestically and internationally. But no matter how far, he never missed our four nights a week. I was still unsure, clutching his lapels tightly. “Blacklisting your white moonlight… aren’t you afraid she’ll be sad?” “What white moonlight?” He kissed me until I was breathless. “I only have you.” “Is this a confession?” “Yes.” “Then, Julian.” I hugged him tight. “Who am I to you?” He paused, then kissed me even harder. “My wife.” I trembled. “Then I’m really going to act like your wife from now on.” “You should have been doing that all along.” That night, neither of us slept. 3 My knitting skills improved. I unraveled the old scarf and made a bigger, warmer one. But Lily sent me a video. In the video, Julian was leaving a mansion in London after a meeting, holding a black umbrella, passing by Chloe. Since being blacklisted, she had nowhere to go. She couldn’t even pay rent. She was soaked, her purple dress clinging to her skin, outlining her curves. She looked at him with teary eyes in the wind. “Julian…” Chloe’s voice trembled. Julian paused slightly. Then walked past her without looking back. “Julian! Have you forgotten our past?” Amidst Chloe’s calls, Julian didn’t turn back. I sighed in relief. He knew his place. But I didn’t expect Chloe to be so determined. The storm raged all night. She stood downstairs all night. Until she fainted. A black umbrella appeared in the frame. Chloe struggled to open her eyes, looking up at the person holding the umbrella. Julian was dry, his pale face emotionless. But the umbrella tilted slightly towards Chloe. Julian flew back to New York the next day as planned. But he gave that mansion to Chloe. “Sarah, what do we do? Julian only spends money on his woman!” Lily panicked. I thought for a moment. “Since he treats me as his wife, I have to act like one.” That day, Chloe was kicked out of the mansion. And that day, Julian didn’t come home. This was the first time he missed our scheduled night since we married. I called a dozen times; he didn’t answer. The next day, he came home exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot. “Did you order Chloe to be kicked out?” I didn’t deny it. “Yes.” “Who gave you the right to be unreasonable?” I was shocked by his questioning tone. I looked up. “You mean, as your wife, I should tolerate your ex-girlfriend living in our property?” Julian didn’t speak. He frowned and threw a video at me. In the video, Chloe was dragged into an alley by a group of men, her purple dress torn. Julian’s voice trembled. “If I hadn’t arrived in time, Chloe would have been violated!” I looked at the video coldly. “What do you want me to do?” “Go to the hospital. Apologize to Chloe.” “Julian.” I pushed the phone back. “I won’t apologize to a mistress.” “Mistress?” Julian seemed surprised I used that word. A sneer I had never seen appeared on his lips. “If we’re talking about that, you’re the mistress, aren’t you?” My breath hitched. He ignored my shock and turned to leave. For the first time, he slammed the door. I sat on the sofa alone until late at night. Messages from friends kept popping up on my phone. [Sarah! What’s happening? Julian cancelled meetings to be with another woman at the hospital?] [They say she’s his first love. Is it true?] [Sarah, come to the hospital! Your husband is becoming someone else’s!] I didn’t reply to any of them. Instead, I packed my luggage and waited for Julian to return three days later. Seeing my suitcase, he chuckled lightly. “What? Running away from home?” I handed him the divorce papers. “Let’s divorce. I don’t want the settlement money.” His hand holding the tea froze. 4 He flipped through the agreement page by page, his expression serious. His hands trembled slightly. “Divorce? Who will give you all that money?” “Thanks to you, Mr. Sterling, I won’t starve.” He paused. “Divorce is fine, but you must return every cent I spent on you.” I froze. Five years as a stand-in, I spent quite a bit. Seeing me stiffen, Julian relaxed a bit. “If you can’t pay it back, that’s fine. Just don’t divorce…” “Okay.” He was stunned. I was very insecure about money. No matter how much I had, I didn’t dare spend recklessly. Even with nine figures in my account, when Julian wasn’t around, I still ate instant noodles with two eggs. In five years, I received hundreds of millions, but only spent two million. I handed over the bank card and took off the two-million-dollar earrings. That covered exactly what I spent. “These earrings were won in a bet with Chloe. They count as mine. Here, it’s all paid back.” I took Julian’s hand and placed the earrings in his palm. As I turned to leave, he threw the earrings away and grabbed my hand. “Don’t go!” “I didn’t really mean for you to pay me back!” The eloquent CEO was speechless. “Julian, don’t stop me…” I was impatient, but when I turned, I silenced myself. A tear fell onto the back of my hand. I spoke in disbelief. “You… are crying?” “I’m sorry.” He looked at me with red eyes. “Don’t do this to me.” I had never seen this man cry. If this was photographed, Sterling stocks would fluctuate. So I sat down and listened to his explanation. Only then did I know he wasn’t at the hospital these past few days. He had his friends send those stimulating messages because he thought I arranged for those men to violate Chloe. He couldn’t accept me doing such a thing. I could kick her out, but I couldn’t drive her to extinction, letting a group of men assault another girl. But he still sent Chloe to the hospital and visited often. Because he didn’t want me to be sued. “Calling you a mistress was out of anger. I’m sorry.” Julian’s eyes were red. I was silent for a moment. “Julian, you really hurt me this time.” Pain flashed in his eyes. “But I can give you a chance.” His eyes lit up. “Julian, I want you to cut off all contact with Chloe. Send her away, far away.” “Okay…” He gripped my hand tightly, as if holding a lost treasure. “I promise you.”

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For Christmas, I spent hundreds of dollars on premium imported cherries for my parents. My younger sister ate a whole bowl, and no one batted an eye. I ate one bowl, and my mother started muttering passive-aggressively under her breath. “Says she bought them to be filial, but look at her, stuffing her face endlessly.” Usually, in situations like this, I would apologize and offer to buy more. But today, I suddenly felt exhausted. I wanted to see what would happen if I didn’t buy more. I wanted to see just how far Mom would go. Chapter 1 Before dawn even broke, my dad was shaking me awake. “Peach, get up and go buy another box of cherries. It’s not that much money. Don’t upset your mother during the holidays. She was crying last night because of you. You’re a good, dutiful daughter; you need to be more understanding of your mom.” I was groggy from sleep, but hearing my dad’s accusation, a wave of grievance washed over me. To make it home for the holidays, I had worked overtime for a week straight. And now, over a bowl of cherries, I was being kicked out of bed before sunrise to go buy more. Those cherries were expensive. I bought pounds of them. I ate one small bowl yesterday. It wasn’t even that much. My sister, Lily, ate a bowl too. Why was this still an issue? It’s been like this since I was a kid. I was used to backing down, retreating again and again. When we were poorer, we only had steak on holidays. At the dinner table, Mom would always say with a fake smile, “Steak is so expensive these days, but Peach loves it. What can I do? I’m her mom. Since it’s cooked, hurry up and eat.” I would only take a tiny piece. If I took more, Mom would start making snide remarks. “Always eating, eating, eating. Don’t you know how hard things are for the family right now?” She’d finish with a glare. So I would sit there, trembling, afraid to take another bite, thinking my parents had it tough and I should let them eat more. But no matter how much Lily ate, Mom never complained. All our relatives knew that Mom “spoiled” me, “doted” on me, and bought me whatever I wanted, even if money was tight. But Mom always used the excuse of buying things for me, only for those things to end up with Lily. Once, I tried to defend myself in front of relatives, and it was like poking a hornet’s nest. “Look at you all! When did I not buy her things? She didn’t like them so she gave them to her sister, and now she accuses us of favoring Lily!” Mom cried, looking so wronged. The relatives looked at me disapprovingly. I felt like a clown stripped naked, bowing my head to accept their judgment and criticism. Mom did buy me things, but they were always in colors and styles that Lily liked. Who could I tell my grievances to? In the end, I apologized to her. I apologized for three days straight before Mom finally calmed down. Mom and Dad always knew how to manipulate me. There were too many incidents like this. Sometimes I fell into a vortex of self-doubt. I never knew how to sweet-talk my parents like Lily did. I always thought if I did more, if I was more understanding, they would see my efforts. Family harmony is everything. But this “harmony” was always bought with my compromise. I suddenly remembered overhearing two mothers talking on the train ride home. “As parents, you have to elevate your status. Make them feel like nothing they do is ever enough to satisfy you. That’s how you control them.” “You have to use the right methods to manipulate them. That’s how you make them obedient.” I had been the obedient daughter for 28 years. Today, suddenly, I didn’t want to be obedient anymore. I wanted to rebel. I got up, locked my bedroom door, pulled the covers over my head, and went back to sleep. Sleeping fitfully, I heard voices in the living room. “So, is what you said before still true? When Lily marries my son, you’ll give this condo to Lily as a dowry?” “Of course it’s true. Lily is my favorite. When they get married, not only will we give this condo, we’ll also give a bank card with savings.” “Lily even bought imported cherries specifically for you guys. Take some home later.” Lying in my warm bed, my heart turned to ice. This three-bedroom condo my parents lived in—I paid the down payment, I paid the mortgage. They always said they were just living there, and when I got married, the condo would still be mine. But what did I just hear? They were going to give my condo to my sister as a dowry? I quickly got dressed, threw open the bedroom door, and stormed into the living room. “Mom, this condo is mine. I do not agree to give it to Lily as a dowry.” Chapter 2 The air in the living room solidified instantly. Mom, Dad, and Lily all looked at me in shock. Mom stood up abruptly. “Peach, didn’t you go to buy fruit? Why are you still home?” She winked at me frantically, signaling me to leave. Based on past experience, I had to make things clear right now. Otherwise, Mom would say later, “Didn’t you already silently agree?” I looked at Mom stubbornly. “Mom, this condo is mine. Why are you giving it to Lily as a dowry?” Dad pointed at me angrily. “We’re still alive! What is yours? This condo belongs to us old folks. We can give it to whoever we want, and you have no right to interfere!” A stylishly dressed woman among the guests stood up with a smile. “You must be Lily’s sister, Peach. I’m Lily’s future mother-in-law, you can call me Mrs. Chen.” “Your mother said Lily has been paying the mortgage on this condo. It’s not unreasonable to give it to her as a dowry, right?” Mom grabbed my arm hard, her nails digging deep into my flesh, ignoring the pain she caused, and dragged me out the door in one breath. She warned me in a low voice, “Today is the day we set the wedding date for your sister. If you dare ruin this, I’m done with you. Go buy cherries immediately, I need them later.” With that, the door slammed shut. I stood there in my slippers, without my phone or wallet. Only tears fell, unbidden, one by one. Since we were kids, any good thing I had, Mom decided to give to Lily. The fountain pen I won in a competition, Mom said let Lily use it for a couple of days. My scholarship money, Mom said let Lily hold onto it for a couple of days. New clothes bought for me, Mom said let Lily wear them for a couple of days. … Without exception, these things eventually became Lily’s. This time, they were giving my condo to Lily. Why were they so biased? And so self-righteous about it? I used to suspect I wasn’t their biological daughter, but every time they slapped me and then gave me a piece of candy, I convinced myself I was being petty and misunderstanding them. So I was constantly consumed by confusion, pain, and self-denial. But whenever they showed a tiny bit of concern, I would be overjoyed. I was immersed in negative emotions from the past, tears streaming down my face. I stood alone in the hallway, watching the elevator go up and down. At that moment, Lily opened the door and came out. She draped a down jacket over me, mumbling, not knowing what to say. When we were little, my sister and I were close. We talked about everything and promised to be best sisters forever. Maybe time moved too fast. We had long deviated from that path, drifting further apart on a road of comparison, jealousy, and fighting for parental affection. “Sis, Mom is just like that. She’s been this way her whole life, she won’t change. Just go along with her.” A wave of anger rose in my heart. “Lily, tell me, which item for the holidays wasn’t bought by me? Why can’t I eat some cherries I bought myself?” Lily quickly held my hand. “Sis, keep your voice down. Mom cares about face. She’s doing this so I have face in front of my in-laws. Sis, Mom doesn’t like being contradicted. Just buy a little more.” It all came back to me buying more. I wanted to see what kind of scene Mom would make if I didn’t buy cherries today. I pulled the door open forcefully, tossed the down jacket on the entryway bench, then washed the remaining cherries and sat on the sofa eating them from the bowl. Mom pointed a trembling finger at me. “You unfilial daughter, what are you doing?” I blinked innocently. “Mom, I’m just eating some fruit I bought. Is that a crime?” Seeing the tense atmosphere, Mrs. Chen and her family said sarcastically that they had things to do at home and would discuss the wedding date later. After Mom, Dad, and Lily apologized profusely and saw them off, Lily ran back to her bedroom crying. Dad kicked over the coffee table in front of me, snatched the bowl from my hands, and smashed it on the floor. Then slap, a hard slap landed on my face. “I’ll let you eat!” Dad was so angry he stomped on the cherries rolling on the floor one by one. “If you ruin Lily’s marriage, get out of my house!” Chapter 3 The crushed cherries bled red juice on the floor, looking like red flowers—just like my image in my parents’ hearts: a daughter they could trample on at any time. Mom cried uncontrollably, not forgetting to accuse me. “You’re just jealous your sister found a good partner. You can’t stand to see her happy, can you? You won’t be satisfied until you ruin her marriage, right? Just because your marriage is unhappy, your sister doesn’t deserve happiness?” I sat on the sofa, silent, tears flowing. What could I say? They never cared what I said; their eyes and hearts only held Lily. The resentment in my chest ran wild; I couldn’t suppress it anymore. “I’m jealous of her? Jealous that she barely got into a community college? Jealous that she makes minimum wage? Or jealous that she found a ‘good’ in-law family that demands a house as a dowry?” Dad squatted on the floor holding his head. When he looked up, his eyes were bloodshot. “Your sister wasn’t as smart as you growing up, and she doesn’t have as many schemes as you. Is it wrong for us to plan more for her?” “You went to a top university and got a good job, making good money. Can’t you stop calculating against your sister?” I looked down and sneered. “Dad, I wasn’t smart, I was desperate. Since I was little, you told me you guys were incapable, and if I wanted a good life, I had to study hard myself. I listened to you, so I studied desperately. Isn’t it natural that I tested well?” “I got severe gastritis at 28 because I didn’t eat on time while working myself to the bone. Do you think my salary comes easily?” Dad rubbed his face hard, his lips trembling. “But how did you raise Lily? You said the family only needed one hardworking sister, and the younger sister just needed to wait to enjoy the blessings.” I wiped my tears with my sleeve, but they wouldn’t stop. “Who caused my unhappy marriage? Was it me?” I pounded my chest, asking Dad with heartbreaking pain. The grievances and neglect my parents gave me over the years, the pressure and disappointments from work, all pressed down on me until I couldn’t breathe. I put on my down jacket dejectedly and walked out the door, feeling heavy. The streets were full of festive decorations, the holiday atmosphere thick. But my heart was a desolate wasteland. I walked aimlessly. The winter sun was warm. But my heart felt like it was soaking in an ice cellar; even in the sun, I couldn’t feel any warmth. I walked for an hour, but my chest still felt tight. Before, I could always coax myself into feeling better quickly, but this time, no matter how I made excuses for my parents, the resentment in my heart wouldn’t dissipate. Why? I wanted an answer too. Was it because I wasn’t worthy of eating the cherries I bought? Or because they broke our promise and privately gave my condo to my sister? Or because I finally realized they didn’t really love me that much? A burning pain came from my stomach, and I realized I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I bought a candied hawthorn stick (tanghulu). Sweet and sour. As I ate, I suddenly started laughing. Lily and I were so much like this treat! She was the sugar, I was the sour fruit. Looking red and round together. But people’s attention was always on the sweet part. My phone kept ringing. Without looking, I knew I was being denounced in the family group chat again. “Peach is too outrageous. Coming home only a few days a year and making her parents angry. It’s not right.” “It was just asking you to buy some cherries. How much could it cost? The richer she gets, the stingier she becomes.” “Lily usually takes care of your parents. You should be filial and buy things during the holidays. What’s the problem?” … I listened, burning with anger. My parents never explained the whole story, and those relatives loved to take things out of context. So I became the target of their criticism whenever they felt like it. They all liked to stand on the moral high ground and criticize me to gain a sense of presence as elders. In reality, in front of their own kids, they were all gentle parents who dared not breathe too loud. Chapter 4 I decided to reply. “Uncle Dave, why do I only come home a few days a year? I paid the down payment and the monthly mortgage for the condo my parents live in now. If I don’t work myself to death, are you going to pay the $6,000 monthly mortgage for me?” “I bought imported cherries, fifty dollars a pound. If my family eats them, I’ll buy as much as they want. But my parents wanted to give the cherries to Lily’s future in-laws. Auntie May, is it my place to pay for that?” “I bought the condo, I paid for the renovation and appliances. I pay for all of Mom and Dad’s medical bills, big and small. I give them a red envelope of over a thousand dollars every holiday. Even when their phone bill is due, Lily calls me to pay it. Auntie June, between two sisters, one pays and works, the other takes. Where did I go wrong?” Silence in the family group chat. An eerie silence spread. The frustration in my chest was finally vented. Did they not know these things? They were just used to dictating my life. Whichever child the parents loved, the relatives saw only that child. The unloved child was wrong in everything. For the next two days, Dad ignored me, Mom threw things around, and Lily looked at me hesitantly several times. There was no holiday atmosphere at home. They were all waiting for me to apologize, curry favor, and promise benefits. I wanted to try resisting until the end. Maintaining family affection solely through my compromise—would they change even a little because they loved me? On New Year’s Day, Uncle Dave treated us to dinner at a restaurant. The relatives greeted me warmly, telling me to eat more. Very rare. Halfway through, I went to the restroom and saw Mom, Auntie May, and Auntie June go into the fire escape stairwell. I followed quietly. “Give me some ideas. I already promised Lily’s in-laws that this condo would be her dowry when they get married. What if Peach doesn’t agree?” Auntie May said, hating iron for not becoming steel, “Are you confused? How many families around here give a condo as a dowry? Do you have multiple properties?” Auntie June also advised earnestly, “Between the two sisters, Peach is the capable one. If you break Peach’s heart completely, who will you rely on when you’re old?” Mom said aggrievedly, “Peach is capable and scheming, unlike Lily who is honest and kind. As parents, shouldn’t we take from the rich to help the poor?” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an iron hand. It hurt. If I were truly “scheming,” would I be bullied by them like this? They could manipulate me at will just because they were my biological parents. Was it wrong for me to work hard and earn money with my own skills? Did it become their excuse to suck my blood? When I returned to the private room, I had no appetite. Uncle Dave got drunk and kept talking about “filial piety” to the younger generation. I knew he was saying it for me. Suddenly, Mom and Mrs. Chen pushed open the door and came in. As soon as Mrs. Chen saw me, she walked towards me enthusiastically. “Peach! We really are destined. We booked a room here too. We have a lot of young people there, come say hi. It’s good for young people to make friends.” Someone who starts plotting for her daughter-in-law’s dowry condo before the wedding can’t be a good person. Calling me so intimately? I made an excuse about a headache, refusing to go to their room. “You child.” Mom grabbed me. “What’s wrong with making more friends? Hurry up, give your Mrs. Chen some face.” She dragged me to Mrs. Chen’s room without explanation. And purposefully pushed me into the seat next to a balding man. I’ve been around the block; I knew exactly what Mrs. Chen was planning. Judging by how Mrs. Chen and her husband acted towards the balding man, they probably needed a favor from him and were offering me up as a sacrifice.

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It was day three of the silent treatment from Luke. I had typed out a long, pathetic apology text, ready to hit send. Then I walked into the breakroom and saw him sharing a single lollipop with the new intern. The intern, Summer, was giggling, daring me to go confess my love to the icy, untouchable CEO of our company. I thought Luke would stop her. He was my boyfriend, after all. Instead, he looked at me in front of the entire staff and smirked. “Go ahead. Who knows? Maybe the big boss will actually like you. Consider it climbing the social ladder.” He leaned back, his eyes cold. “Don’t worry, I won’t cling to you. After all, if it works, we’ll all have to call you Mrs. Sterling!” Suddenly, a row of neon text floated across my vision like a live stream chat: [The male lead is sick in the head. Who says that in front of everyone?] [Ugh, why is our male lead such a toxic tsundere? The heroine just needs to coddle him, and he’ll take her back!] [I’m so over this two-faced man. Girl, look at the CEO! He’s been in love with you for years. He only transferred to this branch for you!] [The CEO is 6’3″, has an eight-pack, and is totally devoted. You dump this loser, and the CEO will be kissing away your tears in five minutes!] I stared at the floating text, then at Luke’s mocking face. I adjusted the strap of my black dress. “Fine. I’ll try it.” I looked around the room. “If I succeed, everyone gets a raise!” 1 This was the ninety-ninth time Luke had given me the silent treatment. I had my apology script ready. I was always the one to fold. Then I saw Summer, the new intern, using a “status report” as an excuse to stare at the candy in Luke’s mouth. “Luke,” she asked, blinking her doe eyes. “What flavor is that?” Luke put down his pen, took the lollipop out, and glanced at it. “Strawberry.” “Can I taste it?” she asked innocently. Luke paused. Before he could answer, she snatched it from his hand and popped it into her mouth. Luke, seemingly slow on the uptake, asked, “Is it sweet?” She pulled it out, blushing. “Super sweet.” I turned around, walked downstairs to the convenience store, bought a bag of one hundred lollipops, came back, and shoved them into Summer’s hands. “Next time you’re hungry, tell me. I’ll buy you your own. You don’t need to snatch food from someone else’s boyfriend’s mouth.” The entire office went dead silent. Everyone looked over. Summer turned bright red. But Luke slammed his hand on the desk, standing up to defend her. “It’s just a piece of candy, Sarah. Why do you have to be so aggressive?” “You haven’t even finished the proposal I gave you yesterday, but you have time to be jealous?” “You’ve been here three years with no promotion. You’re incompetent. Honestly, I’m embarrassed to tell people you’re my girlfriend!” Seeing Luke take her side, Summer dropped the embarrassment and smirked. “Sarah isn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but you shouldn’t be so mean, Luke.” “You can just do her work for her. You did mine when I couldn’t finish it, remember?” Luke sat back down, crossing his legs, looking at me with pure disdain. “She’s different from you. You’re new; she’s a veteran employee.” “If a veteran employee can’t create value for the company, she should just be fired.” I stood there, frozen, feeling like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. 2 My work performance wasn’t bad. I used to be a star in the Sales Department at HQ. I only transferred to Planning at this branch because Luke begged me to. He said he didn’t want to work at the same company but feel like we were in a long-distance relationship. I had only joined the Planning Department a month before Summer. Summer leaned against Luke’s desk, grinning at me. “Office romances are so cute. In those CEO novels I read, when the innocent heroine can’t finish her work, her boss boyfriend does it for her.” “And for every task he finishes, she has to give him a kiss as a reward!” Luke scoffed, but there was a smile playing on his lips. “Uninstall those trashy apps, Summer. What kind of nonsense are you reading?” Summer stuck out her tongue. “Is it nonsense? Then why did you ask me for a reward last time you helped me?” I stood there, feeling like I’d been slapped in public. Angry, humiliated, and numb. Actually, the reason for this current cold war was also Summer. A few days ago, Luke and Summer went on a business trip together. It was Luke’s birthday, so I FaceTimed him. At midnight. Summer answered the phone. “Sarah? Luke is in the shower. What do you want?” My blood ran cold. “It’s midnight. Why are you in his room?” Summer frowned, feigning innocence. “It’s not like that, it’s just…” She turned away from the camera. “Luke! Sarah is on the phone. She sounds mad. She wants to know why we’re together. You better explain it!” A second later, Luke appeared on screen, wearing a bathrobe, towel-drying his hair. “Sarah, relax. The showerhead in Summer’s room broke. I went to fix it, got soaked, and just took a shower here.” “You have no idea how great Summer was today. She handled some insane demands from the client. I really owe her dinner.” Summer tugged at his sleeve. “I told you, no need. Just take me on the next trip!” Luke looked down at her, his eyes softening in a way they never did for me anymore. “Deal. You’re smart and capable. You save me so much trouble.” Summer giggled. “See? Now you know how important I am.” “I know, I know. You’re my best student.” They flirted right in front of me, completely forgetting I was on the line. Finally, Luke remembered me. “Right, why did you call?” I hesitated, clutching the gift I had bought. “Luke, Happy Birth—” “Happy Birthday, Boss! Surprise!” Summer cut me off. On the screen, she wheeled out a cart. A massive three-tier cake covered in rose petals, a gift box, and a bottle of expensive wine. “Open it! Look!” She shoved the box into his hands. Luke opened it. It was a Louis Vuitton wallet. The exact one he’d been eyeing for months. I looked down at the identical wallet in my hand. I stayed silent and hung up the phone. 3 When Luke got back from the trip, he saw the wallet I left on his desk. That’s when he realized why I had called. Unfortunately, he was already using the one Summer gave him. “If it was a birthday gift, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “If you had said something, I wouldn’t have accepted Summer’s.” “Now Summer knows you got the same thing, and she feels terrible. She’s been apologizing non-stop, saying she didn’t mean to upstage you.” “There are rumors flying around that she’s trying to seduce me. Did you start those?” “If you keep targeting her like this, Sarah, don’t blame me if I break up with you!” For the first time, I didn’t want to explain myself. So, the silent treatment began. To punish me for not groveling, Luke had decided to humiliate me in the breakroom. It was lunch hour. Colleagues were filtering back in. Someone heard the tail end of the argument and joked, “Luke, aren’t you afraid Sarah will dump you if you keep defending the intern?” Luke snorted, looking supremely confident. “Let her dump me. I’m not scared.” “She chased me, remember? I didn’t chase her.” The guys laughed. “True that. In love, whoever cares more loses.” My eyes stung. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. I looked down, blinking back tears. Not here, I told myself. Not at work. But Summer wasn’t done. She poked Luke’s arm with a manicured finger. “I heard Sarah used to be the Prom Queen at State University!” “She’s so charming. Why doesn’t she try confessing to the Big Boss? Hunter Sterling?” “Unless… Luke would get jealous?” My head snapped up. Hunter Sterling. Our CEO. Cold, distant, terrifying. He was on the Forbes “30 Under 30” list. Rumor had it he was allergic to women. Or maybe he was gay. A girl once tried to ask him out; she was fired the next day and left the building in tears. Summer was trying to get me fired. Some of Luke’s cronies chimed in. “That’s a great idea! Mr. Sterling is a State alum too!” “I wanna see if the Prom Queen can melt the Ice King!” “Oh god, if she fails, she’s definitely getting pink-slipped.” Summer beamed. “Don’t worry! Sarah has such a great body. If she offers herself up, Mr. Sterling might not date her, but he’ll probably keep her around for… other things. He won’t fire her!” A female colleague frowned. “That’s too much. Even if office dating isn’t banned, Sarah is Luke’s girlfriend.” Summer covered her mouth, acting shocked. “Oops! You’re right! Forget I said anything!” I used the last shred of my sanity to look at Luke. He was smart. He had to hear the malice in her voice. Instead, he shrugged. “What does it matter?” “If the boss actually wants her, she’s hitting the jackpot.” “Don’t worry. I won’t stand in your way. Heck, we’ll all have to call you Mrs. Sterling!” 4 Laughter erupted around the room. They were certain I’d be rejected. I was furious, humiliated, and ready to scream. But then, the glowing text appeared again. [Male lead is engaging in self-sabotage again. He loves her to death but acts like a jerk!] [Sarah, listen to me! He’s been stalking your Instagram for days. Just apologize like usual, and he’ll fold immediately!] [Apologize for what?! Our girl did nothing wrong! This insecurity king needs to go!] [Seriously, look at Hunter Sterling. He’s been secretly in love with you since college. Remember the Hiking Club?] [He still keeps the group photo from that mountain trip in his wallet. You break up with Luke, and Hunter will be worshiping the ground you walk on.] I widened my eyes at the red text. The CEO… has a crush on me? Before I could process this, Summer tugged at Luke’s sleeve again. “Sarah isn’t saying anything. Is she chicken?” “I guess the rumors are true. She’s obsessed with you, Luke.” “Those kinds of women are so annoying. Like gum stuck to your shoe. You’ll never get rid of her.” Luke raised an eyebrow, soaking up the ego boost. “What can I do? She’s been obsessed since college.” “Honestly, there were plenty of girls better than her chasing me. I only agreed to date her because she wore me down.” “But she’s getting annoying lately. Always starting cold wars.” “Let her confess to the boss. She needs a reality check. Maybe then she’ll stop making a scene over nothing.” Summer grinned, bumping his shoulder. “If Sarah succeeds, maybe you should date me instead. I’m not clingy!” Luke laughed. “Sure!” He glanced at me. “But I doubt she can bring herself to leave me.” I knew his game. He was pushing me to the edge, waiting for me to break and beg for forgiveness. I was an orphan. I lived with my aunt, who was kind, but my uncle hated me. I learned to be useful, to be quiet, to be diligent. I desperately wanted a home of my own. Luke had introduced me to his mom and sister. They were wonderful. They sent me homemade pickles and knitted scarves. I wanted to marry him to keep them. To keep that feeling of family. Luke used that against me. But I heard his mother divorced his father because of infidelity. I didn’t want to be her. I clenched my fists. “Fine. I’ll do it.” “If I succeed, everyone gets a raise.” 5 The smile froze on Luke’s face. His eyes turned dark. The chat went wild. [Hahaha! Karma! That’s what you get for being arrogant!] [Good job, Sarah! My blood pressure just went down seeing the look on his face!] [Hunter is infinitely better. Rich, handsome, and actually respects boundaries. He knew she had a boyfriend, so he just watched from afar.] [Though… he’s not that pure. He definitely does things to her photos at night…] The comments were making me blush. I marched to the CEO’s office before I could lose my nerve. Knock knock. “Come in.” Hunter’s voice was deep and magnetic. I pushed the heavy oak door open, leaving it slightly ajar so the nosy crowd behind me could see. Hunter was in a black suit, signing documents. He looked up, glanced at me, looked down, then his head snapped back up. His eyes widened slightly. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He sat up straight, put down his pen, and looked at me with an intensity that made my knees weak. “Yes?” I stared at the collar of his crisp white shirt, too nervous to meet his eyes. “Um, Mr. Sterling…” “I… I like you. Will you… go out with me?” Hunter froze. He glanced at the crowd peeking through the crack in the door. The spectators scattered. Hunter interlaced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. His sharp, almond-shaped eyes locked onto mine. “It’s lunch hour.” “Did you lose a bet with your colleagues?” “Tell me what the game is. I’ll go win it back for you.” I swallowed hard and finally looked at his face. He was gorgeous. At least 6’2″, chiseled jaw, an aura of old money. If I had really met him in college, how could I have forgotten him? The chat said we were in a Hiking Club together. Why did I have zero memory of that? Outside, people were whispering. “See? He’s giving her an out.” “If she keeps going, she’s getting fired.” My palms were sweating. Could I trust the floating text? But I was already here. No turning back. “It’s not a game. I really like you. Please date me!”

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