Category: English

On the very first day of our honeymoon, I dragged my husband to a local photography studio to get some romantic couple portraits done. As the camera lens panned over him, the photographer casually asked, “Hey, how come you didn’t bring your girlfriend this time?” I was just about to raise my hand to show off my wedding ring when a familiar voice chimed in from behind us. “Marcus! What a coincidence seeing you guys vacationing here too.” The scowl that Marcus had been wearing all trip finally cracked, replaced by a warm, genuine smile. The girl shoved me aside, effortlessly taking my spot next to him. The photographer smoothly guided them through a series of cozy poses, and as they finished up, he smiled and said: “Congratulations! Wishing you two a happy honeymoon.” Marcus gently rustled the girl’s hair with pure affection and muttered a soft, “Thanks.” I thought my ears were playing tricks on me. Just as I opened my mouth to clarify who the actual wife was, Marcus grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the studio. Right before we stepped out the door, my eyes locked onto the display wall he had been staring at earlier. In the framed photo, Marcus and Chloe were locked in a passionate, deep kiss. The timestamp on the photo was exactly one day before our wedding.

Suddenly, a cold shiver ran down my spine. Looking at Marcus now, every ounce of love I had felt for him evaporated. All the way back, Chloe and Marcus chatted and laughed, sharing inside jokes. I sat there like an invisible third wheel who couldn’t squeeze a word in. This man, who had been completely silent and cold to me, was now looking at another woman with eyes full of tenderness. I suddenly realized this marriage didn’t even need to begin. The moment we stepped into our hotel suite, Marcus threw his coat down and glared at me. “What was with that miserable face back there?” “You were the one who begged for this honeymoon. Now that we’re here, you’re throwing a tantrum and ruining the mood.” “Do you have any idea how valuable my time is?” I stared at him in utter disbelief, a bitter tightness squeezing my chest. When I was eighteen, the Franklin family empire went bankrupt. My parents essentially pawned me off to the Christians under the guise of an arranged alliance. The graduation trip my parents had promised me was canceled. Seeing how devastated I was back then, Marcus had wiped away my tears, promising he would take me on a trip every single year. The first year, Chloe got sick and was hospitalized, so we had to wait. The second year, Chloe took a bad fall after a breakup, and the plans fell through again. This year, Marcus finally agreed to take me. But as it turned out, he and Chloe had already been here, playing house as a happy couple. The suffocating silence in the room was crushing me. I just wanted a straight answer. “When did you and Chloe come here?” He shrugged casually, acting as if I was making a big deal out of nothing. “Chloe failed her job interview last month and cried all night. I brought her here to clear her head.” “To clear her head? Does clearing her head require mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?” A long, heavy silence stretched between us. Then, Marcus snapped, his face flushing with anger. “Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself.” “Chloe is like a sister to me. If there was actually anything going on between us, do you really think you’d be sitting here as my wife?” I let out a dry laugh. So, that was his truth. Chloe’s parents died saving Marcus’s life when they were kids. To make it up to her, his parents had initially set them up to be married. But then, Marcus claimed he fell in love with me at first sight. He used childish stunts like hunger strikes and running away from home to force his parents to agree to our match. When the Franklins went under, he finally got exactly what he wanted. “Let’s get a divorce.” His hands froze over the suitcase he was unpacking. He let out a scoff. “Just because I took Chloe on a trip to cheer her up, you’re throwing a fit and demanding a divorce?” “Catherine, when did you become so childish?” I said nothing, my heart aching in dull, heavy thuds. “Chloe has really sensitive skin and allergies. Go sleep in her room tonight so she can have this suite.” Seeing me stand still, he reached out and patted my head condescendingly. “You need to learn to be more generous.” My eyes welled up with uncontrollable tears. It was always like this. The jewelry she wanted, I had to give up. The designer dresses she wanted, I had to let her have. I had been yielding to her for seven long years. I sniffled, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’ll give her the room. And you? I’m giving you to her too.” Hearing this, he pinched the bridge of his nose in sheer annoyance. “It’s just a room! Stop turning everything into a federal case!” Before I could reply, there was a knock at the door. The moment Chloe walked in, Marcus smoothly took her suitcase, opened it, and began unpacking her things one by one. That was when I noticed their toiletries were matching couple sets. She slid her room card into my palm, offering a sweet, innocent, yet apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Catherine. I booked my room so late, and the view isn’t great.” “I hate to make you suffer in that room… you don’t mind, right?” I suddenly felt a surge of petty amusement. “What if I said I do mind? Would you give me my suite back?” It was the first time in seven years I had ever said no to her. Chloe froze, her eyes instantly filling with tears. She began frantically stuffing her things back into her suitcase, acting as if she was being bullied. Marcus’s face darkened instantly. He grabbed my suitcase and hurled it out into the hallway. “If anyone’s leaving, it’s you.” The zipper on my suitcase burst, scattering my clothes all over the hallway floor. I sat slumped in the middle of the mess, looking absolutely pathetic and ridiculous. The heavy suite door slammed shut, cutting off my view of Marcus. The plastic room card in my hand felt like a burning coal. I laughed at myself, realizing for the very first time what a massive joke my life had become.

Instead of going to Chloe’s room, I went straight to the airport. On my phone, the wedding planner was blowing up my WhatsApp, asking me to confirm the final details for the ceremony. Before this trip, Marcus had held me close, promising he would give me the wedding of the century the moment we got back. I stared at the screen for a long time, waiting until my battery was down to one percent. Finally, I typed back: Change my name on everything to Chloe. I also bought the digital file of the photo I saw at the photography studio and sent it to them. Use this as the main welcome poster at the entrance. I figured Marcus would love my little wedding gift. Our trip was supposed to last a week, but by the time Marcus finally returned home, a whole two weeks had passed. He hadn’t even noticed that I left the honeymoon early, nor had he sent a single text to check on me. He tossed a luxury gift box onto my lap. “Chloe bought you this to apologize. It’s been weeks, Catherine. You should be over your little tantrum by now.” I looked at the box. It had a prominent ‘Gift with Purchase’ sticker on it, and the perfume sample inside was already more than half empty. He couldn’t even bother to pretend to care. I slowly stood up, pulled the pre-drafted divorce papers from my drawer, and slid them across the table. “Marcus, let’s get a divorce.” He glanced down at the papers, his brows knitting together in pure irritation. “Catherine, don’t you think you’re being incredibly dramatic?” “Your family literally threw you away and handed you to me like a piece of garbage. If you leave me, who else in New York would ever want you?” I snapped my head up to look at him. It was true—the moment the alliance with the Christians was finalized, my parents had kicked me out of the house. They called it “fostering a relationship” with my future husband. Looking at the man who had once promised to build a home with me, I felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. The love I had once been so proud of felt incredibly pathetic at this moment. My lips trembled, but I couldn’t find the words to argue. Because he was right. He slammed the door and left, telling me to use the night to clear my head. The next morning, when I arrived at the office, my colleagues were whispering and congratulating me, saying my promotion to Senior Project Manager was a done deal. But my blood ran cold when I opened the official announcement email and saw Chloe’s name listed as the new manager. I stormed into Marcus’s office with the printout, only to stop dead in my tracks. Chloe was leaning over Marcus, tenderly adjusting his tie. They looked like two high school sweethearts in the middle of a honeymoon phase. When Marcus saw me, his face immediately twisted into annoyance. “Knock before you come in. Even elementary school kids know that rule. Do I need to send you back to HR for basic etiquette training?” “You’ve been with this company for years, and you still have zero situational awareness.” Chloe, on the other hand, took a timid step back, looking like a frightened rabbit. “I’m so sorry, Catherine… I always do Marcus’s ties. I saw it was crooked and just reacted without thinking.” She quickly untied Marcus’s tie, shoved it into my hands, and ran out of the office crying. Once again, she made me look like the wicked witch who had ruined their pure love. Marcus’s voice boomed with anger. “You know Chloe has been depressed since she failed her job interview. It’s just one position, Catherine. Do you really have to fight her for everything?” This was different. I had pulled countless all-nighters and drafted dozens of proposals to earn this promotion. And with one casual sentence, he expected me to just hand it over. Watching him turn to leave, I called out, “Marcus, it’s either Chloe or me. Choose.” He paused for a fraction of a second, but didn’t turn back. He kept walking to chase after Chloe. I walked back to my desk. Looking at the cubicle where I had poured four years of my life, it felt utterly alien. That afternoon, the company-wide Snapchat group exploded. A coworker nudged my arm, sliding her phone in front of my face. “Catherine… is Mr. Christian actually your husband?”

Chloe had uploaded a photo of my marriage certificate with Marcus to the group chat. Her caption read: Wishing Catherine and Marcus a lifetime of happiness! My entire body went numb. The chat was scrolling at lightning speed with mockery and gossip from my coworkers. “I knew it! No wonder she landed all those major clients at her age. She was just riding her husband’s coattails!” “Please, her parents basically sold her. She’s been his live-in maid for seven years. Aside from a piece of paper, she has nothing.” “Did you see how Mr. Christian looks at Chloe? That’s real love right there. Catherine is just a placeholder.” The nasty, venomous words flooded my brain. My head felt like it was going to split open. I fled from my desk and slipped into the quiet stairwell to catch my breath. But as I walked down, I heard a soft, wet, gasping sound coming from the landing below. Chloe was whimpering, her shoulders trembling as her small hands weakly beat against Marcus’s chest. “Now everyone knows… you guys can be together openly now. She won’t have to ‘misunderstand’ us anymore.” “Are you happy now?” Marcus stared at her for a second, then leaned down to kiss the tears from her eyelids. “That’s enough.” “Don’t ever do that again without my permission.” Then, the heavy sound of kissing resumed. I don’t even remember how I dragged myself back to my office. When I walked in, Marcus was lounging on his leather sofa, looking thoroughly satisfied. I placed my physical resignation letter on his desk. His forehead creased with instant irritation, and he uncomfortably pulled up his collar. “What are you throwing a tantrum about now?” “Chloe didn’t mean to leak the certificate. She’s been crying in the restroom for an hour. I already lectured her about it.” We had been together for seven years, and he had never once publicly acknowledged my existence. The only couple photos we had were deleted by him because “it might negatively impact the company’s stock price.” I had lived like a shameful, hidden mistress for seven years. I stared at the fresh red mark on his collarbone and forced a hollow smile. So, that was his idea of a “lecture.” He stood up and reached out to wrap his arms around me. The thought of what they had just done in the dusty stairwell made my stomach violently churn. I lurched backward, dodging his touch, genuinely wondering how he did it. One second he was passionately making out with his foster sister, and the next, he could act like a doting fiancé to me. He casually tossed my resignation letter into the paper shredder, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m going to pretend I never saw this. As for the promotion, we’ll talk about it next time.” “Besides, given our legal status, it’s better if we keep a professional distance at work anyway.” It took me four grueling years to climb from an assistant to managing my own projects. How many more four-year periods did he expect me to wait? I waited year after year for a vacation. I waited year after year for a promotion. And with one word—”professionalism”—he wiped out every ounce of my hard work. But I was done waiting. I kept my voice completely professional. “If you want to keep your distance, my resignation actually solves all your problems.” He looked at me, a sudden wave of understanding washing over his face. “Ah, right. We’re already legally married, and the wedding ceremony is in two days. I make more than enough to support you anyway.” “My mother has been begging for grandkids. After the wedding, you can stay home and focus on getting pregnant.” I gave him a non-committal hum, waiting until he signed off on my exit paperwork before turning on my heel. As I reached the door, he called out, “Oh, and don’t forget—our parents are meeting in three days to finalize the wedding reception details. Don’t be late.” I didn’t answer. The moment I stepped out of the building, I booked a one-way ticket to London. A few days ago, I had received a job offer from a multinational firm over there. My future was waiting for me across the Atlantic.

Three days later, I still showed up to the dinner. An ugly beginning deserved a clean, dignified ending. When I arrived at the private dining room, it was completely empty. Right then, my phone buzzed. It was Marcus, and he immediately started yelling the moment I picked up. “Catherine! How old are you? Still playing games and showing up late? If you can’t even manage your time, how can I trust you with a manager position?” I opened the text notification on my phone. It was a new address. How hilarious. The venue had been changed, and I, the bride, was the last to know. When I finally arrived at the upscale restaurant, Chloe was sitting in my designated seat, making both sets of parents laugh hysterically with her sweet banter. The moment I walked in, the warm atmosphere turned ice-cold. Chloe immediately made a show of standing up to give me my seat, but Marcus’s mother grabbed her arm, pulling her back down. “Chloe, sweetie, stay right there.” She then turned her icy glare toward me. “If some people hadn’t used cheap, manipulative tricks, the title of Mrs. Christian would belong to Chloe right now.” “You’re in your twenties, yet you expect your elders to sit around and wait for you.” “You haven’t even officially moved into the Christian estate, and you’re already throwing your weight around like you own the place. Who do you think you are?” My parents sat there, offering nothing but awkward, tight smiles. Marcus shot me a warning glare, his eyes practically screaming threats. “On such an important day, you’re the only one who’s late. Aren’t you embarrassed?” I let out a long sigh, ignored the comments, and sat down at an empty seat. My heart was already dead. Looking at the table, every single dish was covered in heavy, spicy Mexican chili oil. Marcus picked up a fork, stabbed a piece of spicy meat, and put it on my plate. He leaned close to my ear. “Stop sulking. Everyone is watching. Smile.” Without a second thought, I scraped the meat directly into the trash bin. The smile on Marcus’s face froze. “I can’t eat spicy food.” My stomach had been ruined by stress ulcers over the years; spicy food was practically poison to my system. Years ago, when I had accidentally taken a bite of a spicy pepper, Marcus had panicked, rushing me to the ER for a full gastrointestinal scan. Since then, he had always personally checked every menu to make sure my food was bland. Chloe noticed my action and her face fell. “The elders are all sitting right here, Catherine. Who are you putting on this dramatic show for?” Marcus looked at Chloe, then back at me. He stabbed another piece of spicy food, his voice dropping to a cold, commanding whisper. “Eat it. Behave.” I set my fork down with a quiet clack. “Enjoy your dinner.” “I only came here to say one thing: I won’t be attending the wedding. Marcus and I are completely over.” With that, I stood up and walked out. Behind me, Marcus’s mother exploded into furious screeching, while my parents frantically rambled out awkward apologies. I drove straight back to my apartment, grabbed my pre-packed suitcases, and headed to the airport. Back at the restaurant, it took Marcus nearly an hour to soothe his mother’s anger, promising her that I would never act out like this again. But remembering the absolute finality in my eyes before I walked out, a sudden, cold dread crept into his chest. He pulled out his phone and shot me a text: Catherine, stop this childish nonsense. Come back and apologize right now. I didn’t reply. For the next few days, I didn’t send him a single text or call. He didn’t think much of it, assuming I was just experiencing cold feet and being shy before the big day. After all, I had chased him for seven years. He was convinced I could never survive without him. He figured this time would be no different. On the morning of the wedding, Marcus got up early, carefully grooming himself. He couldn’t wait to see me walk down the aisle. But the moment his car pulled up to the luxury hotel venue, his face went completely pale.

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I had just woken up from the anesthesia after my C-section. My husband gently placed a tiny baby girl in my arms. Suddenly, glowing lines of text flashed across my eyes like a live-stream chat. [Wait! That’s not your daughter. Your real daughter was swapped by your husband and Fiona Cross, the single pregnant mother you sponsored.] [They did it together.] [They put their own love child in your arms instead!] [They want their illegitimate daughter to replace yours and inherit the Montgomery family fortune!] [Your real daughter is right next to Fiona. She has a faint pink birthmark behind her left ear.] [In ten minutes, they will transfer her out of this hospital under the excuse of treating severe jaundice.] The blood in my veins turned to ice. In the next second, Fiona knocked and walked in. She smiled, looking innocent and harmless. “Mrs. Montgomery, my daughter has severe jaundice. She’s being transferred to another hospital in a few minutes. I wanted to come by and say goodbye.” The floating text in front of my eyes flashed rapidly. [Don’t let her leave!] [If she walks out that door, you will never find your daughter again.] I dug my fingernails deep into my palms. I forced a smile. “Jaundice? Let me take a look.”

The hospital room fell dead silent. Julian was the first to react. He sat on the edge of the bed and pressed his hand against my shoulder. The pressure wasn’t heavy, but it was just enough to press down on my C-section wound, sending a sharp pain through me. “Chloe, you just woke up. Don’t move.” I stared at him. To the public, Julian Vance was the most respectable son-in-law of the Montgomery Medical Group. He was the man who would run out in the middle of the night to buy sour plums when I had morning sickness. He accompanied me to every single prenatal checkup. He told the media that marrying me was the luckiest thing that had ever happened to him. But the floating screen said otherwise. It was him. He had stolen our daughter and put his mistress’s baby in my arms. My chest choked with an unbearable ache. “I’m not moving too much,” I said, looking past him to Fiona. “She is a pregnant woman under my charity program. Since her baby has severe jaundice, it’s only natural for me, as her sponsor, to check on her. Is there something wrong with that?” Fiona’s grip on the baby bundle visibly tightened. “Mrs. Montgomery, the doctor said the baby shouldn’t be exposed to the cold wind. The transport ambulance is waiting downstairs.” “I heard jaundice is most obvious behind the ear. I’ll just check behind her ear. No need to unwrap her completely.” Her face turned pale. Julian tried to coax me in a gentle voice, “Chloe, Fiona has had a hard time. Her baby needs urgent care. Let’s not delay them.” “Will a five-second delay kill her?” I asked. His brows furrowed slightly. It was a silent warning. During our standoff, the nurse at the door walked in. Rachel. She was the one who had checked my wristband before my surgery. She wore a professional smile. “Mrs. Montgomery, the anesthesia hasn’t fully worn off yet. You might not be thinking clearly. The transfer paperwork for Fiona’s baby is already complete. The ambulance is waiting downstairs.” I looked at her. “What is her bilirubin level?” Rachel paused. “320.” “When was it tested?” “Twenty minutes ago.” “Where is the report?” Rachel’s smile stiffened. “It’s all logged in the electronic medical system.” A new comment floated across my eyes. [They just modified the numbers.] [The original record was only 176. It didn’t meet the emergency transfer criteria at all.] [They just want Fiona to take your daughter and make a quick escape before you find out.] My daughter was standing just a few steps away from me. Held by her biological father and another woman, about to be erased from my life forever. I forced myself to breathe steadily. “Since the jaundice is so severe, I’ll contact the head of the Neonatology Department at Crestview to check her personally. I’ll cover all the expenses.” Fiona raised her head instantly. “No need, Mrs. Montgomery. You’ve already helped me so much.” “I’m not asking for your permission.” I pressed the call button next to my bed and told the nurse aide who walked in: “Tell the head of Neonatology to come to my room. Also, before he arrives, Fiona and her baby are not allowed to leave this floor.” Rachel panicked. “Mrs. Montgomery, this goes against hospital protocol.” “I am one of the largest individual shareholders of Crestview Maternity Hospital.” I stared at her, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you really trying to talk to me about protocol?” Rachel’s face lost all color. Julian called out to me in a low voice, “Chloe.” I didn’t look at him. “Also, my own baby is not allowed to leave this room. Any checkups must be done right in front of me.” Fiona’s eyes welled with tears. “Mrs. Montgomery, is there some kind of misunderstanding? I just want to get medical care for my baby.” I stared at the bundle in her arms. “Then wait for the specialist to get here.” The floating text popped up again. [Step one: successful.] [But they have already altered the hospital system.] [They won’t let you see the birthmark that easily.]

The head of Neonatology didn’t show up. Instead, Dr. Thomas Sterling, the Vice President of the hospital, walked in. There was sweat on his forehead. Two nurses and an administrative director followed right behind him. Julian stood up and whispered a few words to him. Dr. Sterling’s gaze shifted to me, becoming instantly cautious and overly polite. “Mrs. Montgomery, congratulations on a successful delivery. Your health is the top priority right now. The hospital will handle everything else.” I asked, “Where is the department head?” “He is currently in surgery. But we can arrange phototherapy for the baby here.” “Then treat her in this hospital.” “According to the current records, Fiona’s baby has extremely high levels. We highly recommend transferring her to our partner clinic for observation.” I stared at him. “Crestview is the best private maternity hospital in the city. Are you telling me we can’t treat a simple case of newborn jaundice and have to send her away?” Julian walked over, leaning down to tuck my blanket in. “Chloe, you just had surgery. You shouldn’t be worrying about other people’s problems. I’ll handle Fiona’s arrangements.” I grabbed his wrist. “Did you sign the newborn birth confirmation?” His eyes flickered. “The hospital asked me to sign on your behalf.” “On whose behalf?” “I’m the baby’s father. It’s only natural for me to sign.” I looked at him and slowly let go of his wrist. “I wasn’t even awake yet, and you already signed to confirm the baby’s identity?” His perfect composure finally showed a crack. Dr. Sterling quickly intervened. “Mrs. Montgomery, it’s very common for family members to sign on behalf of the mother in clinical practice, especially since you were still recovering from anesthesia.” “Common doesn’t mean legal,” my voice went cold. “Bring me all the handover records, identity verification videos, and the umbilical cord blood storage codes from my delivery.” Rachel stood in the back, her fingers clutching her clipboard so hard they turned white. A comment floated by. [She’s panicking.] [She already swapped the ankle bands of the two babies and backdated the handover log.] [Don’t drink the water. Julian ordered a sedative to be added to it.] The moment I looked up, Julian was already holding the glass of water from the nightstand. “Drink some water first, Chloe. Your lips are dry.” I stared at the warm water. “You drink it.” His hand froze. “Chloe, what are you doing now?” “I said, you drink it.” Everyone in the room turned to look at him. The gentle mask on Julian’s face was about to shatter. “You shouldn’t be so paranoid after a C-section.” I laughed. “I’m paranoid? Then take a sip and prove me wrong.” He set the glass back down. “The doctor said you need to stay hydrated.” “Then have the nurse open a fresh, sealed bottle for me.” Rachel immediately chimed in, “The water in our ward is standardized. There’s nothing wrong with it.” I looked at her. “Are you absolutely sure about that?” She shut her mouth. Fiona stood by the door, cradling the baby as tears streamed down her face. “Mrs. Montgomery, I know you are wealthy and powerful, and you look down on people like us in your charity programs. But just because you don’t like me, you shouldn’t stop my daughter from getting medical treatment.” With a single sentence, she painted a vivid picture. A rich heiress bullying a poor, single mother. What a perfect card to play. Dr. Sterling frowned. “Mrs. Montgomery, your emotional state seems highly unstable right now. Should I call a psychiatrist for an evaluation?” I stared him down. “Do it.” He was stunned. I continued, “And while you’re at it, call the legal department, the risk management team, and the hospital administration. If we’re doing an evaluation, let’s evaluate everyone.” Julian said in a low, warning tone, “Chloe, don’t make a scene.” I pressed a button on my smartwatch. My fingers were still trembling from the lingering anesthesia. I sent a text to Vivian: “My baby is in danger.” Vivian Carter was my late mother’s most trusted lawyer and the executor of the Montgomery Family Trust. She had once told me: “Chloe, marriages can fail, and people’s hearts can change. But the protective clauses in a trust fund never lie.” Back then, I thought she was too cold. Only now did I realize the painful truth in her words.

By 11:40 PM, the ward was in complete chaos. Rushed footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. I had already instructed Vivian to lock down the hospital. Fiona wouldn’t be able to escape. But I couldn’t sleep a wink. My daughter was still in another woman’s arms. How could I sleep? The door was pushed open. Rachel rolled in an incubator transport cart. Fiona followed right behind her. The baby had already been placed inside the incubator, covered by a transparent plastic dome, showing only a tiny, red face. Fiona’s eyes were red and swollen from crying. “Mrs. Montgomery, please stop blocking us. The doctor said if we delay any longer, my daughter might suffer brain damage.” Julian was there, too. He had changed his jacket, looking exhausted. “Chloe, I had Dr. Sterling call a specialist consultation. The conclusion is that we must transfer the baby first. If you’re still worried, I’ll ride in the ambulance with them.” The floating text flashed frantically. [Lies!] [They forged the consultation records!] [She taped over the baby’s left ear to hide the birthmark. You have to look!] [Once they enter the elevator, the underground parking lot has blind spots in the security cameras.] I pushed myself up against the headboard, trying to sit up. A sharp, ripping pain in my abdomen made my vision go black. The nurse aide quickly held me down. “Mrs. Montgomery, don’t get up! Your stitches will rip!” I gritted my teeth. “Bring the incubator here.” Rachel blocked it. “We are on a tight schedule.” “Bring it here!” She didn’t budge. I looked at Julian. “You said you’d ride in the ambulance, right? Then you personally bring the baby to me so I can look at her.” His eyes turned cold. “Chloe, you are disrupting hospital order.” “I just want to look at her once.” Suddenly, Fiona dropped to her knees. She clung to the edge of the incubator, sobbing hysterically. “Mrs. Montgomery, I beg you! My daughter is not your toy! Just because you have money, you can’t keep my child hostage here!” Her loud wails drew the attention of patients in the neighboring rooms. “What’s going on?” “I think it’s the Montgomery heiress. She won’t let a poor pregnant woman’s baby get transferred for treatment.” “Rich people are terrifying. They even want to control other people’s sick babies?” “She just gave birth, right? Is she having some mental breakdown?” The whispers crawled into my ears. But I only stared at the baby inside the incubator. She was crying. The final thread of my sanity snapped. I ripped the IV needle right out of the back of my hand. Beads of blood welled up. Julian’s face changed instantly. “Chloe Montgomery!” I used every ounce of my remaining strength to swing my legs out of bed. The moment my feet hit the floor, my knees buckled, and I fell forward. Julian caught me. Using the momentum, I grabbed the edge of the incubator and slammed open the side access port. Rachel screamed, “What are you doing?!” I reached my hand inside and gently parted the soft hair behind the baby’s left ear. In that split second. I saw it. A faint, reddish birthmark sat quietly on the skin behind her ear, looking like a tiny drop of red ink on paper. The floating chat exploded. Tears instantly poured down my face. “This is my baby.” The room fell dead silent. Fiona’s crying stopped for half a second. Then, she shrieked. “You’re lying! That’s my daughter!” Julian grabbed my shoulders and tried to drag me back. “That’s enough, Chloe!” I struggled, screaming at the top of my lungs, “She has a birthmark behind her left ear! She’s my daughter!” Rachel immediately chimed in, “Birthmarks are extremely common in newborns. You can’t claim a baby just because of a spot. Mrs. Montgomery, you just gave birth. You might be suffering from postpartum psychosis.” Dr. Sterling rushed to the door, his expression grim. “Get Mrs. Montgomery back into bed immediately. Call the psychiatric department for an emergency consultation if necessary.” I looked at their faces. I finally understood what it felt like to be forcefully fitted into the straightjacket of a “madwoman.” They were all waiting for me to break. First, they would label me as mentally unstable. Then, everything I said would be dismissed as the delusions of a crazy person. This was Julian’s ultimate advantage as my husband. Julian leaned down, his voice barely a whisper in my ear. “Chloe, don’t force my hand.” I looked up into his eyes. “What are you going to do to me?”

He remained silent. That was his answer. The crowd in the hallway grew larger. Some people held up their phones, but the hospital security guards quickly blocked them. Fiona knelt on the floor, gasping for breath through her tears. “Mrs. Montgomery, I know you helped me, but you can’t humiliate me like this. You have your own baby. Why do you want to steal mine?” The moment she said those words, the whispers outside changed. “Stealing a baby? Oh my god.” “Is she unhappy with her own baby? Does she think someone else’s baby is cuter, so she’s claiming it?” “Shh, keep it down. They’re rich. Even if she steals it, there’s nothing we can do.” “Postpartum psychosis is pretty common among wealthy women, right?” Two nurses held me down on the edge of the bed. My incision was completely numb with pain. Julian turned to Dr. Sterling. “She has been under a lot of stress during the pregnancy. She just woke up from anesthesia, and her emotions are highly unstable. I suggest letting her rest.” “I’m just worried about you,” he added softly to me. Fiona quickly sobbed in agreement, “Mr. Vance, Mrs. Montgomery just became a mother too. She’s probably just too anxious. I don’t blame her.” Rachel walked over holding a syringe. “Mrs. Montgomery, this is a mild sedative prescribed by Dr. Sterling. The dosage is very small and won’t affect breastfeeding.” I stared at the needle. I raised my wrist and spoke directly into my smartwatch: “Vivian, upload the audio recording to the cloud server right now.” All sound in the room died instantly. The next second, the ward door was pushed open. Vivian walked in holding her briefcase. Behind her were two police officers and the head of the Montgomery Foundation. Seeing my bleeding hand and pale face, Vivian’s eyes turned freezing cold. She turned to face everyone in the room. “Starting now, no one is allowed to move either of these newborns. No medical records are to be deleted, altered, or backdated. Anyone who violates this will be charged with destroying evidence.” Julian finally tore off his gentle mask. “Ms. Carter, this is a private matter between my wife and me.” “Didn’t you just say she’s mentally unstable?” Vivian looked at the police officers. “In that case, we need a third party to step in. We can’t have a husband making unilateral medical decisions for a supposedly ‘unstable’ patient.” “On behalf of Mrs. Montgomery, as the trustee of the Montgomery Family Trust, I am officially freezing all beneficiary status checks due to identity risks.” Julian’s face went completely pale. I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I looked at the police officers. “Officer, I request the immediate seizure and sealing of all Crestview Maternity Hospital’s newborn handover logs, delivery room access logs, surgical cord blood samples, placental pathology samples, newborn screening blood cards, transfer requests, and ambulance GPS records.” “Furthermore, seal all of tonight’s medical orders, including the sedative syringe they were about to inject into me.” Dr. Sterling broke into a cold sweat. “Mrs. Montgomery, you’ve misunderstood. This is just a family matter…” “It is not a family matter,” I said, projecting every word clearly. “I suspect a criminal conspiracy to swap newborns, forge medical documents, illegally transport an infant, and attempt to fraudulently claim the beneficiary rights of the Montgomery Family Trust.” The moment those words left my mouth, Fiona’s face drained of all color. The onlookers outside went wild.

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My boyfriend, Wallace Vance, was the most ruthless designer in the fashion industry. He showed no mercy, not even to me, his exclusive runway model. When my weight went over by less than half a pound, he kicked me straight off the runway. “Alice, this is business, not a game,” he said coldly. “I won’t give you special treatment just because you’re my girlfriend.” I respected his work ethic. Or at least, I tried to. Until today. I had to leave the gym early because of a sudden dizzy spell from low blood sugar. When I walked into our apartment, I saw Juliet, my curvy best friend, trying on Wallace’s brand-new couture gown. Wallace was looking at her with a look of pure adoration—a look he had never given me. “I spent months designing this collection specifically for your body,” Wallace cooed, his voice dripping with sweetness. “You’re going to be the most unique star in the modeling world.” Juliet pouted, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But Wallace, I’m so much bigger than Alice. I’ll look like a joke next to her.” “Alice has the standard runway body, but you? You’re my real muse,” Wallace whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “She doesn’t even compare to you.” A cold sweat broke out over my skin. My hands shook as I unlocked my phone and sent two texts to my dad. [Dad, I agree to the arranged marriage with Leo Sterling.] [Also, pull all James Group funding from Wallace’s fashion brand. Effective immediately.]

After sending the texts, my head was still spinning. I stumbled toward the kitchen, desperate for a piece of chocolate to stop the trembling in my hands. Just then, Wallace and Juliet walked out of the dressing room, laughing and whispering. The moment Wallace saw the chocolate in my hand, his smile vanished. “Alice, you’re supposed to be at the gym right now,” he snapped. “I’ll let the laziness slide this once. But chocolate? High-sugar junk food?” “Where is your self-control?” I stared at the tiny piece of chocolate in my palm, completely stunned. The man standing in front of me, screaming at me over a bite of chocolate, felt like a total stranger. I remembered when we first graduated. He had absolutely nothing back then. He did freelance sketching to pay the bills. He worked until his wrists were swollen just to make a few thousand dollars, and he spent every single penny of it on me. He used to buy me snacks and desserts, never caring about carbs or calories. He loved buying me pretty dresses and would always tell me how beautiful I looked. He never cared if I fit into a sample size. Now, with my heart racing from the hypoglycemia, I asked him quietly, “You can let Juliet model your couture, but I need your permission just to eat a piece of chocolate when my blood sugar crashes?” Wallace noticed my hands shaking. For a split second, guilt flashed across his face. He grabbed a glass of orange juice from the counter and handed it to me. “If you’re having a medical issue, of course you can eat. I didn’t mean it like that.” But Juliet’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. She bit her lip, looking incredibly hurt. “Alice, if you’re mad at me, I won’t wear the dresses. I’ll take them off right now.” “I know my body isn’t as perfect as yours. I’m not a professional like you.” Wallace panicked instantly. “No, Juliet! Don’t say that!” “Alice is too skinny. It’s unhealthy. You look perfect just the way you are.” “And besides, this collection was made for your curves. No one else can pull it off.” He turned back to me, his eyes full of annoyance. “Alice, if you really care about Juliet as a friend, stop comparing yourself to her. It’s pathetic.” “She has something you don’t. She’s not like those cookie-cutter runway models.” Without waiting for my reply, he grabbed Juliet’s wrist. “Come on, Juliet. Ignore her. Let me take you out to that seafood place you wanted to try.” The front door slammed shut. So, he knew being too skinny was unhealthy. So, all his strict rules were just a lie. All of Wallace’s professionalism and high standards disappeared the second Juliet was the one on the table. My eyes burned with tears. I tilted my head back, forcing them down. My phone buzzed. It was a message from my dad. [Alice, I’m so glad you’ve finally come to your senses! Leo is going to be thrilled. The engagement party is set for two days from now. Is that too soon for you?] I replied instantly: [No. Two days is perfect.]

While packing my bags, I found two sets of design sketches on Wallace’s desk. One was my wedding dress. There was only one draft. The lines were messy, the design completely basic and plain. The other set was Juliet’s bridesmaid dress. There were over a dozen detailed sketches. He had redesigned the embroidery on the hem nine times. The cut of the dress was specifically tailored to hide Juliet’s insecurities and highlight her best features. It was gorgeous. In fact, it looked far more like a luxury wedding gown than my own dress did. A few weeks ago, I had asked him, “Don’t you think my wedding dress is a bit too simple?” He had replied, “You look best in simple things.” I had been stupid enough to take it as a compliment. He just didn’t care enough to put any effort into me. My phone rang. It was the wedding planner. “Hi, Alice. I’m the coordinator for your wedding with Wallace. I just wanted to double-check one detail with you.” “Are we absolutely sure about replacing all the fresh lily of the valley with yarn crochet flowers? Artificial flowers might look a bit cheap on camera.” The tear I had been holding back finally rolled down my cheek. Juliet was highly allergic to flower pollen. He had planned this down to the very last detail. Without even consulting me, he had ruined the lily of the valley theme I had been dreaming of for years. I wiped my face. “It’s fine. Just do whatever Wallace requested.” After all, this wedding wasn’t really mine anyway. Whatever they did had nothing to do with me anymore. Shortly after I hung up, Wallace came home. He was holding a box from my favorite bakery. “Hey, Alice. Still feeling dizzy? I brought you your favorite lemon tart.” His tone was casual, as if nothing had happened. This was his usual way of sweeping things under the rug. When I didn’t answer, he pulled me to the dining table. “Even if you’re mad at me, you need to eat. It breaks my heart when you’re sick.” I stared at him, seeing a shadow of the boy he used to be. He used to care about me more than anyone. When I lost my appetite, he—a guy who hated the smell of grease—would look up recipes and spend hours in the kitchen trying to make something I’d eat. When my medical checkup came back with bad results, he would grill the doctor about every single metric until the doctor had to tell him to calm down. But everything changed the moment Juliet moved to our city. At first, Wallace criticized her. He said she had no business trying to be a model if she couldn’t manage her weight. But slowly, he started saying things like, “Curvy girls actually have a lot of charm.” They both loved bold, avant-garde styles. They shared the same creative vision. Later, he told me that Juliet was like his soulmate, his ultimate muse. The memories tasted bitter, making the sweet tart on the table look disgusting. I reached for the spoon. But before I could touch it, Wallace suddenly stood up, knocking the lemon tart right onto my lap. The sticky cream and pastry soiled my clothes, leaving me in a complete mess. Without even looking at me, he grabbed a shopping bag from the closet and rushed toward the door. “An emergency came up at the studio. I have to go.” “I’ll buy you another dessert next time.” I quietly cleaned the sticky cream off my clothes. Just then, my phone chimed with a Snapchat notification. It was Juliet’s public story. The caption read: [I just mentioned wanting a vintage silk dress, and someone brought it to me instantly~] The comments were already piling up. [Juliet’s curves look amazing in that slip dress! So gorgeous and cute!] [This photo has Wallace’s signature lighting. Wait, isn’t Wallace getting married soon? Is Juliet the bride?!] [Has to be! Wallace is so strict with models, but he always makes an exception for Juliet!] I tapped on the photo. I recognized the slip dress immediately. The shimmering silk, the delicate hand-pressed patterns. It was identical to the most precious dress in my collection. I ran to my closet and dug to the very bottom. The box was empty.

I drove straight to Wallace’s studio. On the way there, memories of my mother sewing that dress while she was dying of cancer kept flashing in my mind. When I was little, I hated wearing the same clothes as other kids. So, every year for my birthday, my mom would make me a custom dress. Until my seventeenth birthday. That year, she started working on the silk slip dress months in advance—from her hospital bed. Between chemotherapy sessions, she would sew stitch by stitch. She finished it the day before she passed away. It was the last birthday gift she ever gave me. I only wore it on my birthday, and only for half a day, because I was so afraid of ruining it. I pushed open the studio door. Wallace, who usually kept a professional distance from female models, had his arms wrapped around Juliet from behind, adjusting the tape measure around her waist. They looked incredibly intimate. Seeing me enter, Wallace’s face darkened, as if I had ruined their fun. “Give me my dress back,” I said, my voice cold. He knew the story behind that dress. He knew exactly what it meant to me. But looking at him, all I saw in his eyes was his adoration for Juliet. He paused for a few seconds, his tone growing arrogant. “Alice, honestly, this dress looks much better on Juliet. Don’t you think?” “You’re too skinny. You can’t fill it out. But Juliet has real curves. It fits her perfectly.” My whole body began to shake with rage. “So just because it fits her, you think you can steal it?” “Take it off right now, or I’m calling the police!” Wallace looked at me as if I had lost my mind. He immediately stepped in front of Juliet, shielding her. I was so angry that I rushed forward to grab the dress. In the scuffle, a pair of heavy fabric shears fell off the cutting table, plunging straight into the top of my foot. Pain exploded through my body as blood began to pour onto the floor. The shears had gone deep. I leaned down and pulled them out, causing a fresh gush of deep red blood to soak my shoe. Juliet started sobbing loudly. “Wallace, does Alice hate me that much?” “I know I’m not as skinny as a real model, but I’m trying so hard…” Compared to the bloody hole in my foot, Juliet’s fake tears obviously hurt Wallace much more. He glared at me, his patience entirely gone. “Alice! Do you have to make her cry to be satisfied? Apologize to Juliet right now!” “Me? Apologize?” The physical pain in my foot was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the hollow feeling in my chest. Juliet grabbed Wallace’s arm, acting like the bigger person. “Wallace, don’t argue with her. You’ve been working so hard lately.” “Alice, I’ll take the dress off right now. Please stop making a scene.” Her words only made Wallace’s heart ache for her more. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and looked at me with disgust. “Since Juliet is willing to be the bigger person, I’ll let this go.” “But you’re going to walk down to that bakery and buy Juliet’s favorite blueberry cheesecake to apologize. Otherwise, you’re never getting this dress back.” He was doing it again. Making me “apologize” for things that weren’t my fault. If I ate a little extra for dinner, he made me run ten miles to “apologize.” If I drank too much water and looked bloated in the morning, he made me take a freezing ice bath to “apologize.” I looked at him, and any remaining love I had for this man completely died. Only the desperate urge to escape was left. “Fine,” I said quietly. Wallace was stunned. He hadn’t expected me to give in so easily. He let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to be reasonable. Go on then. When you get back, we’ll talk about the wedding details.” At the mention of the flowerless wedding, I let out a dry laugh. “There won’t be a wedding. Once I get my dress back, we are completely finished.” Wallace assumed I was just being dramatic. He was already busy wiping Juliet’s tears with a tissue. I limped out of the studio, ignoring the pain in my foot, and hailed a taxi on the street.

I didn’t expect the ride to be a nightmare. The driver was driving erratically, slamming on the horn and speeding down the road. He was gritting his teeth, muttering and ranting about how his wife had cheated on him. Realizing something was terribly wrong, I grabbed my phone and spammed Wallace on Snapchat. [Wallace, my driver is acting crazy. Call the police for me.] [He’s mentally unstable. I’m in danger.] [Please, see this message and call the police!] We were about a mile away from the bakery when the driver suddenly turned to me, his eyes bloodshot. “I heard this bakery is great. Do you like cake too?” My heart was in my throat. I tried to keep my voice steady. “I’m just picking it up for someone else. I’ve never had it.” Just then, my phone rang. It was Wallace. Under the driver’s suspicious gaze, I trembling clicked accept. But it wasn’t Wallace’s voice. It was Juliet’s mocking tone. “Alice, stop spamming Wallace to get his attention.” “He’s busy using the fabric from your mother’s dress to design a new piece for me.” “And what’s with this fake emergency? Do you really think Wallace has time for your drama right now?” “Why don’t you just go die and see if he actually cares?” My back was soaked in cold sweat. Before I could scream for help, Juliet hung up the phone. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his expression turning cold and sinister. “I was going to give you a chance because you looked so pretty going to get cake.” “But it turns out you’re just like me. Unloved. Pathetic.” “Why don’t we just die together?” With a wild laugh, he yanked the steering wheel, crashing the car straight through the bridge railing. “No!” I reached forward to stop him, but it was too late. The car plummeted off the bridge, crashing into the freezing river below. The violent impact shattered my bones, and my body went numb. Before I lost consciousness, all I could feel was the biting cold of the water. Meanwhile, back at the studio, Wallace’s assistant rushed into his office. “Wallace, we have a massive problem.” “The James Group—our biggest investor—just pulled all their funding. We don’t have enough capital to launch the new collection!” Wallace rubbed his temples, frustrated. “Alice was the one who secured that investment. I’ll call her and see what’s going on.” But before he could dial, a breaking news alert popped up on his laptop screen. [Local Tragedy: A taxi driver went on a suicidal rampage today. The driver died on impact, but a female passenger was pulled from the river with severe injuries. She is currently in critical condition at General Hospital.] A sudden wave of dread washed over Wallace. He opened Snapchat. The moment he saw the chat history, his blood ran cold. The screen was filled with desperate SOS messages from Alice. Juliet came up behind him, whining. “Wallace, Alice was just playing a prank earlier, pretending she was in danger. I already called and chewed her out.” “Just ignore her. Hey, do you think Alice has any other vintage dresses I could borrow? Like that silk one…” Wallace turned on her, his face pale with fury. “Shut the hell up!” he roared. “All you care about is stealing her things!” “Do you realize you might have just killed her?!” He grabbed his car keys and drove like a maniac to the hospital. When he burst through the door of the ICU wing, he froze. Standing outside my room was a man he never expected to see. Wallace stuttered, “M-Mr. James? What are you doing here?”

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Ten minutes before the wedding march was set to play, I was sitting in the bridal suite, touching up my lipstick. Ethan Sterling walked in with a glass of warm water and helped me adjust my veil. “Drink some water. Don’t be nervous. I’ll take you out in a bit.” I smiled, took the glass, and asked him if his tie was straight. The moment the glass was empty, the back of my tongue went numb. I looked up at him. He had already locked the door of the bridal suite from the inside. “I asked the doctor. The dosage is safe. Three hours of sleep is all you need.” The lipstick in my hand slipped, crashing onto the skirt of my wedding dress, leaving a stark red smudge. He knelt down and tried to wipe away the stain. “Sienna is pregnant. She’s carrying Julian’s baby. She can’t handle any stress right now.” “The child needs a legitimate status. For today, she’ll wear your dress and go through the ceremony. I’ll explain everything to the guests later.” I tried to stand, but my knees buckled, and I crashed against the vanity. He caught me, his voice still filled with that same gentle, coaxing tone. “Chloe, be sensible. Once her pregnancy stabilizes, I’ll give you an even bigger wedding.” Outside the door, the officiant began calling for the bride. My vision blurred, and I fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, the first words came out through my gritted teeth. “Don’t touch me.” Ethan’s sister, Zoe Sterling, was crouching in front of me, twirling my wedding ring between her fingers. “Chloe, you woke up fast.” She tossed the ring onto the floor. “And here I thought the doctor my brother hired was reliable.” I pushed myself against the wall, trying to sit up, but my wrists were too weak to support my weight. My throat was dry and numb, and my chest felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton. “Where is this?” “The hotel basement.” Zoe smirked. “Don’t be so tense. The wedding went beautifully.” I stared at her. “Who was the bride?” “Who else? Sienna, of course.” She held her phone up to my face. The screen was playing an Instagram livestream of the reception. Sienna was wearing my wedding dress, holding Ethan’s arm, standing right under the brightest spotlight. The officiant called out, “You may now kiss the bride.” Applause erupted from the crowd like a crashing wave. My fingers slowly curled into fists. “Zoe, give me the phone.” “Why?” She pulled the phone back. “So you can crash the wedding? So you can trigger Sienna’s panic attacks?” “That was my wedding.” “Not anymore.” She tilted her head, her tone as casual as if she were commenting on an ill-fitting dress. “Chloe, you’re a nice girl. You just don’t see the bigger picture.” I let out a cold laugh. “My wedding was stolen from me, and you’re talking to me about the bigger picture?” Zoe’s face darkened. “Don’t get sarcastic with me.” “Sienna is carrying Julian’s only child. Her emotions can’t handle any shock right now.” “You’re only missing out on walking down an aisle once. She’s missing her entire future.” I looked up at her. “Her baby needs a name, so a living person like me has to be drugged and locked away?” “Didn’t Ethan say he’d make it up to you?” Zoe frowned, looking at me as if I were being ungrateful. “Why are you so hard to please?” “Make it up to me?” My throat burned, but I couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping. “Locking me in a basement, letting someone else wear my dress, take my place, and receive my congratulations—you call that making it up to me?” “Don’t make it sound so ugly.” Zoe stood up, her heel stepping right onto the train of my dress. “You were never good enough for my brother anyway.” “The Sterling family only let you in because you were quiet, obedient, and didn’t cause trouble.” “Now that Sienna is pregnant, your constant whining just makes you look incredibly selfish.” I reached for my pockets. My phone was gone. Zoe saw my movement and smirked even wider. “Looking for your phone?” She pulled it out of her designer bag and waved it in front of me. “It’s off.” “My brother foresaw all your little tricks.” I stared at the phone in her hand. “I need to call Ethan.” “Call him for what?” “He’s busy giving toasts.” “With so many guests and media out there today, he doesn’t have time for your drama.” My chest tightened. The drug from that glass of water felt like a thick film coating my throat, making my breaths short and shallow. “Zoe, I’m having an allergic reaction.” She raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Allergic to warm water?” “To sedatives.” I leaned against the wall, my voice cracking. “If it’s severe, it can kill me.” Zoe stared at me. She froze for two seconds, then burst into laughter. “Chloe, your acting is so outdated.” “Faking a life-or-death crisis the moment you wake up? No wonder you’re just a commoner trying to claw your way into high society. This drama is so cheap, like those trashy soap operas.” I forced out every single word. “Give. Me. The. Phone.” “No.” She stuffed the phone back into her bag, leaned down, and patted my cheek. “Just stay here for three hours.” “Once Sienna finishes the ceremony, Ethan will come get you.” “And honestly, if you actually die, consider it your final contribution to the Sterling family.” Footsteps echoed outside, and a bodyguard poked his head in. “Miss Sterling, they’re about to cut the cake upstairs.” Zoe immediately smoothed down her dress. “Keep an eye on her.” I grabbed the hem of her skirt. “Zoe… I am really dying…” She looked down at me and smiled. “Chloe, your biggest flaw is that you think too highly of yourself.” The door was locked shut again. I slumped against the cold wall. It felt like someone was sucking the last bit of oxygen right out of my lungs.

The bodyguard went out for a smoke, leaving my phone carelessly on the shelf near the door. I crawled over, pressed the screen to light it up, and dialed Ethan’s number. His voice came through the speaker. “Chloe, where are you?” I gasped heavily. “Basement…” “I’m having… an allergic reaction. Call a doctor.” There was a moment of silence on the other end. In the background, someone laughed and shouted, “Ethan! Sienna says the baby just kicked. Come feel it!” Ethan lowered his voice. “Chloe, stop throwing a tantrum.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m not.” “My tongue is numb… my throat is swelling… my chest is tight.” “The drug you gave me contained benzodiazepines, didn’t it?” His voice grew cold. “How do you know that?” “Because I can’t touch them.” “Ethan, I told you this before.” The clinking of glasses echoed from the phone. He was quiet for so long that I thought the call had dropped. “I don’t remember.” I leaned against the door frame, my body sliding down inch by inch. On the day of our pre-marital physical exam, I had written down my allergy history three separate times. Ethan had sat right beside me, holding my hand, promising that he would memorize every single one of my medical triggers. But that was the same day Sienna returned from abroad after her surgery. She had posted on Instagram, saying how much she feared the smell of hospital disinfectants. That very night, Ethan bought out half a flower shop to fill her hospital room. My medical report was carelessly stuffed under the car air freshener. I asked him, my voice trembling. “Do you remember now?” Ethan’s voice sounded impatient. “Chloe, today is an exception.” “Sienna almost fainted earlier. The doctor said she can’t handle any shocks.” “I asked Zoe to keep you in the basement because I was afraid you’d do something reckless.” I let out a choked laugh. “Afraid I’d be reckless, so you drugged me?” He lowered his voice. “The dosage was very light.” “The doctor said you would sleep for three hours at most.” “You’re awake now, which means you’re fine.” “I will die.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Ethan, I am really going to die.” He sighed. “Every time you’re unhappy, you exaggerate things to the extreme.” “Just bear with it a little longer. Wait for me.” “We still have the family toasts and reception. Once it’s over, I’ll come down.” I gripped the phone, begging. “I can’t wait… right now…” He cut me off, his tone still patronizingly gentle. “Chloe, Sienna saved my life.” “When I got into that car accident years ago, she was the one who dragged me out of the wreckage.” “Now she’s pregnant with my late brother’s child. I can’t let her be humiliated in front of everyone.” I froze. “The person who saved you… was her?” “Who else would it be?” “Please don’t start arguing with me about this now.” I clutched my chest, a bitter smile gracing my lips. Ethan’s voice softened a bit. “Chloe, you’re quiet again.” “I know you feel wronged.” “But don’t blow this out of proportion.” “I’ll explain everything to you after today.” “Just bear with it.” I leaned against the door, black spots starting to swim in my vision. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “If I die, will you regret this?” He paused. “Don’t say such jinxed things.” Someone called out to him in the background. “Groom, the toasts are waiting!” Ethan immediately answered them. The line went dead. The bodyguard came back, snatched the phone away, and cursed. “Still trying to stir up trouble, huh?” I opened my mouth, but only a raspy, broken breath came out. The bodyguard glanced at me and sneered. “Miss Sterling said you’re a good actor.” “Don’t actually play dead on me.” I wanted to tell him I wasn’t acting.

When Zoe returned, she was holding a half-empty glass of champagne. The bodyguard stood at the door, whispering, “Miss Sterling, her face looks really off.” Zoe cast a casual glance at me. “If her face looked perfectly fine, how could she play the victim?” I slumped against the wall, my breathing turning into rapid, shallow gasps. “Epinephrine…” I raised a trembling hand, pointing toward my bag. “My EpiPen… inside pocket.” Zoe looked down and rummaged through my bag, indeed pulling out a blue injection pen. She held it in her hand, her expression turning smug. “Oh, look at that. You even brought props.” “Give it… to me…” “Just because you asked?” She raised the EpiPen high out of my reach. “Chloe, admit one thing first.” I stared at her. “Admit what?” “Admit that you’re just jealous of Sienna today.” Zoe crouched down, her voice low and venomous. “Admit that you’re faking this illness just to ruin her big day and steal her spotlight.” “I’m going to record a video.” “That way, when Ethan asks, I’ll have proof to show him.” A raspy, bitter laugh escaped my throat. “You Sterlings are truly experts at stabbing someone and expecting them to thank you for the blade.” “Still stubborn, I see.” She opened her phone camera and aimed it at my face. “Come on, say it.” “Say that Sienna is kind and generous, and you’re just a petty, jealous bitch.” I closed my eyes. “No.” Zoe pressed the EpiPen against the edge of the table, slowly pushing down. “If you don’t say it, I’ll break it.” The bodyguard gasped. “Miss Sterling, is that thing really life-saving medicine?” “She says it is, so it is?” Zoe sneered. “Does she know better than a doctor?” “My brother asked. The sedative dosage is perfectly safe.” “Besides, even if something does happen, it’s just her own weak constitution trying to blackmail the Sterling family.” I forced my eyes open, my vision already blurring. “Zoe.” “What?” “Does your brother know how incredibly stupid you are?” Her face twisted in anger. With a sharp crack, she slammed the EpiPen onto the floor. The blue plastic casing shattered, and the liquid medicine seeped out onto the concrete. In that exact moment, the final string of hope inside me snapped. Zoe looked at the spilled medicine and lifted her chin proudly. “Don’t look at me like that.” “My brother hates it when you make that face.” “As if the whole world owes you something.” I stared at the shattered EpiPen and whispered, “There are only three hundred of those custom-formulated pens in the world.” “Who are you trying to scare?” “It’s a custom-made prescription. The serial number is printed on the inside of the casing.” I looked up at her. “What you just destroyed wasn’t just a pen. It was evidence.” Zoe froze for a moment, then laughed contemptuously. “Evidence?” “You’re just an orphaned, penniless designer. You think you can sue the Sterling family?” “Has my brother spoiled you so much that you forgot your own place?” I didn’t bother to explain. Because explaining was useless. A massive cheer suddenly erupted from upstairs. The wedding was reaching its finale. Zoe checked her phone, her smile returning. “Sienna is about to toss the bouquet.” “Guess who she’s going to throw it to?” I said nothing. She answered her own question. “Me, obviously.” She stood up and walked toward the door. The bodyguard hesitated. “What about her…?” “Keep her locked in.” The door slammed shut. I dragged myself toward the shattered EpiPen, dipping my finger into the tiny puddle of remaining liquid, and pressed it against my outer thigh. The dosage was nowhere near enough. The precious little air left in my lungs was still slipping away. I reached into the hidden pocket of my wedding dress. Sewn inside was a thin, metallic signal transmitter. Before my grandmother passed away, she had slipped it into my hand. She had said, Chloe, you don’t have to return to the Lockwood family. But you must keep yourself alive. I had laughed back then, thinking she was being dramatic.

Zoe’s voice drifted in through the crack under the door. She was on the phone. “Ethan, she’s still putting on a show. She’s complaining that I broke her little rescue pen.” Ethan’s background was incredibly noisy—people clinking glasses, shouting “congratulations!” He asked, “How is she?” “She can talk, she can crawl, she’s full of energy.” Zoe laughed. “I think she just wants to steal Sienna’s spotlight.” Ethan was silent for two seconds. “Don’t rile her up.” “I’ll come down as soon as I take Sienna back to her room.” I used every ounce of my remaining strength to bang on the door. The sound was incredibly faint, like fingernails scratching against wood. “Ethan…” The hallway went quiet for a second. Zoe brought the phone closer to the door. “Chloe is calling for you.” Ethan’s voice softened. “Chloe, I’m listening.” I pressed my forehead against the cold door. “Tell them… to open the door.” “I can’t… breathe.” “I really can’t… hold on much longer.” Ethan sounded thoroughly exhausted and annoyed. “Chloe, today is our wedding day.” “Do you have to force my hand today?” “Force your hand?” “Do you have any idea how many people are upstairs right now?” His words came faster. “The press, our relatives, our business partners.” “If you crash the reception now, what happens to Sienna?” “She’s carrying my brother’s baby.” “My brother’s last wish was for me to take care of her.” “So I should just die in the basement?” My voice was so faint it was almost non-existent. The other end of the line went completely silent. A few seconds later, he said, “No one is asking you to die.” “I’m just asking you to wait.” “Why can’t you ever put yourself in my shoes, just this once?” Leaning against the door, I suddenly found it hilarious. When his stomach ulcer flared up, I drove across the city in the middle of the night right before a major design deadline to get his medicine. When his mother looked down on my background, I swallowed my pride at the dinner table, pretending not to understand her sharp barbs. After Sienna returned, he abandoned me at movie theaters, restaurants, and anniversary hotel rooms over and over again. I had always put myself in his shoes. But in the end, he wanted me to give up my very life. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “I regret it.” He paused. “Regret what?” “Regret marrying you.” The other side of the phone felt like it had been abruptly muted. Zoe was the first to explode. “Chloe, are you insane? My brother marrying you is the best thing that ever happened to your pathetic life!” Ethan suppressed his anger. “Chloe, don’t say things in anger.” “I’m not angry.” I pulled the signal transmitter out of my wedding dress. “I also regret saving your life.” Ethan’s voice instantly turned freezing cold. “What did you say?” Zoe burst into laughter. “Oh, here we go. The ‘life-saver’ drama again.” “Are you going to claim Sienna stole your entire life next?” I ignored her. The transmitter had only one button. My fingers were shaking violently. It took me three tries to finally press it down. Ethan’s voice was still coming through the speaker. “Chloe, Sienna is the one who saved me.” “Everyone in the Sterling family knows that.” “Don’t insult her with these desperate lies.” I smiled faintly. “Fine.” “Then I hope you and your savior grow old and gray together…” Ethan’s breathing grew heavy. “You’re becoming completely unreasonable.” I could barely hear him anymore. My ears were filled with the rushing sound of blood pounding against my eardrums. Outside, Zoe murmured impatiently. “Just hang up, Ethan. Sienna is looking for you.” The call was cut off. The bodyguard kicked the door from the outside and tossed my phone back in through the gap. “Stop acting.” “When Mr. Sterling comes down, you can explain yourself to him.” I didn’t have the strength to reply. I picked up the phone and dialed a number. A number I had deleted but remembered for years. On the third ring, the call connected.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443789”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I bought three window AC units for my family with my very first paycheck. But when I pushed the front door open after a grueling shift, my bedroom still felt like an absolute oven. Instead of the cool breeze I had paid for, there was nothing but a massive, heavy watermelon sitting on my mattress. My mom patted the thick green rind, looking incredibly pleased with herself. “I moved the AC units into Zack’s and Serena’s rooms. There was an extra one, so we put it in Serena’s art studio. You can just sleep with this cold watermelon tonight, Chloe. It’ll cool you down just fine.” My mouth opened, but the tight, suffocating pain in my chest choked back any words. She had completely forgotten. Only last month, I had been rushed to the ER with severe heatstroke. When I was discharged, the doctor explicitly warned that I couldn’t be exposed to extreme heat again. I turned my head toward the art studio at the end of the hallway. The crisp, cool air was practically leaking through the crack of the door. My dad was adjusting the easel light for my sister, Serena. My brother, Zack, was holding a plate of freshly sliced cold watermelon, feeding it to her piece by piece. And Luke, my boyfriend of three years, was holding the remote, carefully adjusting the AC vent for her. “Let’s angle the airflow upward, Serena. We don’t want you catching a cold before your big exhibit.” I wiped the dripping sweat from my forehead, looked at the ridiculous watermelon on my bed, and suddenly, the urge to fight just evaporated. I pulled out my phone and replied to the text from my manager: “You mentioned that transferring to the San Francisco branch would fast-track my promotion to a permanent role. I accept.” Having survived twenty-two suffocating summers in this house, I was finally ready to give myself a spring that would never end.

I locked my phone, slipped it into my pocket, and walked toward the kitchen to grab a glass of cold water. Just then, the art studio door clicked open. Luke walked out, holding Serena’s empty glass. Seeing me standing in the hallway, he paused. “Chloe, you’re home.” “Yeah,” I mumbled, brushing past him to reach for the pitcher. Luke followed me into the kitchen, setting the glass down on the marble countertop. “Your mom told you about the AC units, right?” “Serena is prepping for that major digital art exhibition. Her studio can’t get too warm, or her tablet overheats and her hand gets too sweaty to draw properly. It affects her flow.” “So you gave her the AC I bought.” I raised my glass and took a tiny sip. “It’s just for a few days,” Luke tried to explain. He reached out to touch my sweaty forehead, but I tilted my head, dodging his hand. His hand froze in mid-air before he awkwardly shoved it into his pocket. “Your room does get a lot of sun, but if we put the outdoor unit outside your window, it would face Serena’s bedroom. The noise would keep her up. She’s a light sleeper, Chloe. You know that.” Of course I knew. The entire family knew Serena was a light sleeper, had a sensitive stomach, and couldn’t handle being too hot or too cold. That was why she got the master bedroom, while I was tucked away in the suffocating corner room. “Yeah, I know,” I said, putting my glass down. Luke let out a sigh of relief, a small smile finally appearing on his face. “I knew you’d understand. You’re always the mature one.” He reached out to ruffle my hair. “Tomorrow’s the weekend. I’ll take you to Target to get a cooling gel mattress pad, and we’ll buy a nice, quiet tower fan to make up for it.” “No need.” I took a step back, escaping his touch. Luke’s hand froze again. “Chloe, don’t be petty.” His tone hardened slightly. “This exhibition is a massive deal for Serena’s career. As her sister, is it really that hard to show some support?” “I am supporting her.” “I said no to the fan because I really don’t need it.” Luke stared at me for a few seconds, trying to find any sign of silent resentment on my face. But my expression was completely blank. “I’m covered in sweat. I’m going to take a shower.” I turned and walked out. Behind me, the heavy thud of his glass slamming onto the counter echoed through the kitchen. I walked back into my oven of a bedroom. The giant watermelon still sat on my bed, its skin glistening with condensation. I pulled open the bottom drawer of my desk. Inside sat a sky-blue handheld fan. Carved into the plastic handle were five letters: Chloe. During our sophomore year of college, the dorm AC broke during a heatwave. Luke had run through five different blocks in the blazing heat just to find this for me. I traced the carved letters with my thumb. My fingertips turned white. I held the fan, about to put it back in the drawer, when my door was suddenly kicked open. Zack barged in, holding a plate of watermelon. The heavy wooden door slammed right into my elbow. Crack. The sky-blue fan slipped from my fingers, hitting the hardwood floor. The plastic casing shattered into pieces, and the tiny fan blade popped out, rolling uselessly under the bed. Zack glanced down at the mess. Without a shred of remorse, he stepped right on the broken plastic, crushing it further. He dumped the plate onto my desk. “Chloe, Serena said you had a long day at work, so she wanted me to bring you some watermelon.” There were only three soggy, pale green rinds left on the plate, with barely any red flesh on them. “Thanks.” I didn’t look at the plate, keeping my eyes fixed on my laptop screen. Zack glanced at the shattered fan, then at the giant watermelon on my bed, and cleared his throat. “Look, about the AC… don’t take it personally.” He scratched his head. “I’ll get my bonus next month. I’ll buy you another one.” “Sure.” I closed the tab on my screen. Zack blinked, caught off guard. He probably expected me to decline, just like I always did, sacrificing my own comfort just to get a hollow compliment about how “selfless” I was. But this time, I just accepted it. “You’re… not mad?” he asked, sounding unsure. “No.” I stood up. “I’m just tired. I want to sleep.” Zack smiled, clearly relieved. “I knew it. You’ve always been the reasonable one.” He patted my shoulder. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s the weekend, I’ll take you out for some good food.” “Okay.” I nodded quietly. He turned and left, shutting the door behind him. The suffocating heat immediately rushed back to wrap around me. I picked up the leftover watermelon rinds from my desk and dumped them straight into the trash can. The red juice dripped onto the broken fan pieces. It looked almost like blood. I didn’t bother cleaning it. I just pulled out my suitcase and started packing my clothes. I didn’t need to wait for next month. Because by next Wednesday, I wouldn’t be in this house anymore.

The next morning was Saturday. Early in the morning, the hallway was buzzing with noise. My mom was frantically looking for Serena’s designer dress, and my dad was busy polishing his shoes. “Chloe, hurry up and get dressed! Luke booked a private room at that fancy French place downtown. We’re celebrating the smooth prep for Serena’s gallery show!” My mom knocked sharply on my door. I pulled it open, only to see her holding a delicate silk shawl that belonged to me. It was a special gift from my college mentor, who had brought it back from Paris. I had kept it wrapped in tissue paper, never once wearing it. “Serena said the restaurant’s AC might be chilly, so she’s borrowing this shawl.” Without even waiting for my reply, my mom draped the silk over Serena’s shoulders. “Fine,” I said, turning toward the bathroom. By the time I finished getting ready, Luke’s car was already waiting downstairs. The family walked down, laughing and chatting. I trailed behind, watching Zack eagerly open the passenger door for Serena. Just as I reached for the rear door, Luke rolled down his window. “Chloe, can you sit in the back?” he said, his hands resting casually on the steering wheel. His tone made it sound like the most natural request in the world. My hand froze on the handle. The front passenger seat already had Serena’s custom orthopedic pillow resting on it. “Serena’s feeling a bit dizzy today. If she sits in the back, her motion sickness might flare up,” Luke explained. “Sure.” I pulled my hand back, opened the back door, and slid in next to Zack. The car’s AC was blasting. Serena wrapped my silk shawl tighter around herself, turning to smile sweetly at Luke. I leaned back against the seat, watching his tender profile in the rearview mirror. I remembered when I used to get motion sickness. Luke would always just tell me to suck it up because we were almost there. It turned out he wasn’t incapable of taking care of someone. He just didn’t want to take care of me. At the restaurant, the hostess led us to a private booth. Luke pulled out the chair right next to his. Serena slid into it naturally. “Chloe’s boyfriend is so incredibly attentive! We can definitely rest easy knowing she’s in good hands,” Serena teased with a playful giggle. I didn’t say a word, walking straight to the empty chair in the far corner. When the menus were handed out, everyone took turns ordering. My mom ordered a table full of expensive seafood—all of Serena’s favorites. “Chloe, what do you want?” my dad asked casually. “I’ll have the lamb chops,” I said, looking at the menu. “Oh, absolutely not. Serena is highly allergic to lamb,” my mom immediately cut in. “Okay,” I said, closing the menu and handing it back to the waiter. Under the table, Luke gently nudged my knee with his. I pulled my legs back, avoiding his touch entirely. He turned his head to look at me, lowering his voice. “I’ll take you out for your favorite tacos tonight. Just the two of us, okay?” “No, thank you.” I kept my eyes on my water glass. “What is your problem now?” His voice carried a sharp edge of irritation. “Everyone is happy today. Stop ruining the vibe with that long face.” Looking at his furrowed brows, memories from not too long ago flooded my mind. Before I brought Luke home to meet my family, I had been terrified. I was terrified he would be like everyone else, unconditionally choosing my sister, who had spent her entire life stealing the spotlight. I had cried as I told him my fears. He had laughed softly, calling me a silly girl, and promised he would always, without exception, stand by my side. He gave me the courage to bring him into my life. And then, he took that balloon of courage and popped it with his own hands. The food arrived quickly. Serena suddenly looked across the table at me. “Chloe, about that illustration project for Luke’s company… I still have a few final drafts to finish up.” “Are you free this weekend? Could you help me finish the line art?” Instantly, all eyes at the table locked onto me. Whenever she took on freelance gigs she couldn’t handle, she would dump the grueling prep work onto me. The credit went to her, the paycheck went to her. “I’m busy.” I kept eating, not even looking up. The table went dead silent. “Chloe!” My mom’s face darkened. “You’re just lounging around the house anyway. What’s wrong with helping your sister out?” “It’s my weekend,” I said, swallowing the bitterness in my throat. “And I have my own work. I need to put in overtime.” “Your stupid little internship?” Zack sneered. “Serena’s project is a major campaign for Luke’s company. If she messes this up, can you even afford to pay for the damages?” I put down my fork and looked at Luke. He was the project manager for this campaign. Luke avoided my gaze, taking a slow sip of his water. “Chloe, the deadline is really tight.” “You draw fast. Help Serena out a bit. Consider it a personal favor to me.” Looking at him, a sudden wave of dark humor washed over me. This man was supposed to be my boyfriend. Yet here he was, asking me to help another woman as a “favor.” “I said, I’m busy.” I grabbed a napkin and wiped my mouth. Serena’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “It’s fine, Luke. If Chloe doesn’t want to help, I’ll just pull an all-nighter. I can finish it.” “With your health? You can’t pull an all-nighter!” Zack snapped, turning to glare at me. “Chloe, what the hell is wrong with you? Is this still about the stupid AC yesterday?” “Fine. Put the AC back in my room, and I’ll help her draw.” For the first time in my life, I spoke my mind. The air in the room turned ice-cold. “You think you’re so tough now that you have a job? How dare you hold a grudge against your own family!” My dad slammed his palm onto the table. “I’m full. Enjoy your dinner.” I stood up, walked out of the private room, and wiped away the tear that slipped down my cheek. As soon as I stepped out of the restaurant, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an email from the HR department in San Francisco. They were reminding me to fill out the onboarding paperwork and send it back by next Tuesday. I pulled up the keyboard and typed: “Received. I will submit everything shortly.” I looked back at the closed doors of the restaurant. No one had run out after me. Instead, a text from Luke popped up: [You were incredibly immature today. Your parents are furious, and Serena was crying. I’ll set up another dinner later so you can properly apologize to them.] I didn’t reply. I deleted our entire chat history. Three years of messages, gone in a second. There wouldn’t be a next time. And the apology he wanted? He would be waiting for eternity.

On Monday morning, I emailed my signed transfer agreement back to HR in San Francisco. By Monday afternoon, I was packing my desk when my phone started vibrating. It was Luke. “Chloe, where are you right now?” His voice was hoarse, thick with a panic he couldn’t hide. “At the office.” I wrapped a picture frame in bubble wrap and put it in a box. It used to hold a photo of the two of us. Just a minute ago, I had shredded the photo along with some old files. “Get home as soon as you can. Something terrible happened.” “The final illustrations Serena submitted… the client’s legal team flagged them for blatant plagiarism.” I didn’t stop packing, tearing off a strip of tape to seal the box. “Oh,” I said dryly. “The client’s legal team sent a formal cease-and-desist. They’re demanding massive damages and a public apology.” Luke’s voice grew heavier. “I have to go. Just get home right after work.” The line went dead. I looked at the black screen, slipped my phone into my pocket, and carried my box toward the elevator. When I opened the front door to the house, the living room lights were off. Only the dim orange glow of the streetlights filtered in through the balcony. The atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. Serena sat in the middle of the couch, burying her face in her hands, weeping softly. My mom was rubbing her back, while my dad sat with a grim scowl. Zack was pacing back and forth, looking highly agitated. Luke sat in an armchair, a half-burned cigarette dangling between his fingers. His face was pale. The moment she saw me, my mom stood up and rushed over. “Finally! You’re back!” She grabbed my wrist, her grip so tight it pinched my skin. “Your sister is in deep trouble. You have to take the fall for her!” I yanked my hand back, setting my bag down on the entryway table. “Take the fall? How?” I looked at her. “Luke said that if someone steps forward and claims those specific illustrations were just personal practice drafts leaked by a freelancer, the company can shift the blame away from Serena.” “Your sister is a famous artist. Her reputation cannot be ruined by a plagiarism scandal!” “And?” Looking at their desperate faces, my heart felt colder than ice. Zack stopped pacing and glared at me. “So you’re going to sign the confession!” His tone was entirely matter-of-fact. “You’re just an intern anyway. The worst they can do is fire you. Once the drama blows over, you can just find another job.” I turned my eyes to Luke. He kept his head down, watching his cigarette ash drop onto the rug. “Is this your idea too?” I asked him. Luke looked up, his eyes darting away guiltily before hardening. “Chloe, the client just wants a scapegoat. If you sign the liability waiver, I’ll compensate you under the table. I’ll even pull some strings to get you a new job.” I stared at the man I had loved for three years. To save his precious Serena’s career, he was completely willing to throw my entire professional future under the bus. “If I sign that, my reputation in this industry will be permanently ruined,” I stated, my voice dead calm. “Who cares about your stupid reputation!” Zack snapped, losing his patience. “Your pathetic little salary is barely worth keeping anyway. Do you have any sense of family loyalty?” “Chloe, your sister has always been fragile. She can’t handle this kind of blow,” my dad added, his voice heavy. “We raised you, we paid for your life. It’s time for you to pull your weight for this family.” I stood there, watching this absurd theater. I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. It had gone completely numb. When people start talking to you about “family loyalty,” it usually means they’ve already decided you’re the one who needs to be sacrificed. I let out a soft, mocking laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “And what if I refuse?”

I didn’t stay to watch their ugly reactions. I walked straight into my room and locked the door. Outside, they pounded on the wood, shouting curses and accusations. I put on my noise-canceling headphones, blocking them out completely. I spent the night in that sweltering, airless room. The physical toll of my previous heatstroke chose that exact night to flare up again. My head spun so badly I could barely stand. My throat felt bone-dry and cracked. I finally unlocked my door, intending to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. The moment I stepped into the living room, I saw Serena, her eyes swollen like plums, clinging to my mom. “Mom, forget it. Stop forcing Chloe.” “I’ll take the blame. It doesn’t matter if my career is over or if I go to jail… just pretend you never had me as a daughter.” “Don’t say that!” My mom squeezed her tight, her eyes turning into daggers as she glared at me. “As long as I have a breath in my body, I will not let anyone ruin you!” My dad slammed his fist on the table. “Chloe Miller, if you don’t sign that paper today, pack your bags and get the hell out of this house!” Zack rushed over, slapping the water glass right out of my hand. Smash. The glass shattered, sending sharp shards flying across the floor. “If you don’t help Serena, you aren’t leaving this house to go to work today!” “Why should Serena’s career be ruined while you get to act like nothing happened?” “If she can’t draw, you don’t get to work either. That’s only fair!” I gripped the doorframe, looking at my brother. It was laughably absurd. For twenty-two years, no one in this house had ever used the word “fair” when it came to me and Serena. I had cried and demanded fairness once. My mom had simply looked at me and said: She had only planned on having two kids—Zack and Serena. A perfect pair. But then I was an accident. My existence ruined her perfect family aesthetic. So I had no right to ask for fairness. Yet now, they were demanding “fairness” from me. I laughed out loud. But tears slipped down my cheeks anyway. My dry lips split, letting a metallic taste of blood seep into my mouth. Luke was gently pressing an ice pack against Serena’s swollen eyes. He didn’t even look at my pale, trembling face. “Chloe, think carefully.” “If you don’t sign, not only are you not leaving this house today, but I will make sure you are completely blacklisted from this industry.” “But if you sign, we can go back to how things were. I’ll even find a position for you in another company.” I lowered my eyes, hiding my trembling hands behind my back. I swallowed the blood in my mouth, forcing myself to look defeated and broken. “Fine. I’ll sign.” My voice came out hoarse and cracked. “But I need to go to the office first. I have to submit a formal leave of absence, and then I’ll meet you at Starry Media.” Hearing me finally break, the tension in the room instantly vanished. My mom let out a cold sniff. “Good to know you still have a shred of conscience.” Zack stepped back, letting me pass. “See? If you had just been this reasonable from the start, we wouldn’t have had all this drama.” I turned back to my room. I caught a glimpse of the rotting watermelon sitting in the hot corner of my room. I grabbed my backpack and walked out the door. An Uber was already waiting for me downstairs. On the way, Luke sent me a Snapchat: [Carter, the Legal Director of Starry Media, is here. When you get to the conference room, don’t say anything stupid. Just sign the paperwork, and I’ll take you to that nice French place tonight. I’ll even order a brand-new, silent AC unit for your room.] But now, the French dinners… The AC units… The family, the boyfriend—I didn’t need any of it anymore. When the Uber arrived at the high-rise, I didn’t go up. I pulled a thick manila envelope from my backpack. I handed twenty dollars to a courier in the lobby and asked him to deliver it directly to the top floor. The recipient: Carter, Legal Director of Starry Media. Then, I got back into the Uber. “Change of destination, please. To the airport.” As the car merged into traffic, I opened Luke’s chat. [The package you wanted has been delivered.] I tapped send, and without a second of hesitation, blocked his number. Then, I left the family Snapchat group. From this moment on, I was running toward a spring that belonged entirely to me.

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Seven months into my pregnancy, Ethan Carter handed me a cup of boba tea. I took a huge, unsuspecting gulp. An agonizing burn, like liquid fire, instantly seared my throat. It was ghost pepper syrup. I coughed so violently that I couldn’t even stand straight. The sudden, intense pressure made me lose control, and warm fluid began trickling down my thighs. My pale maternity dress was instantly ruined, damp and stained, as drops fell onto the polished tiles of the shopping mall. Amelia Rose, Ethan’s little assistant, suddenly ran out from behind a pillar and threw herself into Ethan’s arms. “See? I told you pregnant women have no bladder control. A few coughs and she leaks everywhere.” “Ethan, you lost the bet. You have to take me to the movies tonight.” “Besides, Clara is in such a messy state now, you probably don’t even have the appetite to touch her, right?” Ethan caught her by the waist, a lazy smile on his face. “Fine, I admit defeat.” Amelia leaned against Ethan’s shoulder, looking at me with a sweet, mocking smile. “Let’s bet again. Do you think Clara is going to cry?” Ethan turned his head to look at me. He didn’t try to cover my stained dress. He didn’t stop the onlookers from filming me with their phones. He just smiled and said, “I bet she will. She cares about her pride more than anything. She won’t last three minutes.” The two of them walked into the elevator, laughing and whispering, leaving me standing alone under the mocking, curious stares of the crowd. I didn’t cry. I just pulled out my phone and dialed a number. Late that night, hundreds of bodyguards surrounded Amelia’s apartment complex. I pressed a cold dagger against her cheek and smiled softly. “Want to make a bet, Amelia?” “Let’s guess if my next cut will be on your pretty face, or straight through your heart.”

Amelia stared at the blade pressed against her cheek, trembling as she shrank back into her chair. “Clara Vance, don’t do anything crazy!” “There are security cameras everywhere here! If you touch a single hair on my head, Ethan will never forgive you!” Even now, she was still trying to use Ethan to threaten me. I pressed my wrist down slightly. Amelia screamed and shut her eyes tight. The blade scraped past her ear, cutting off a lock of her hair. “Relax,” I whispered. “I always pay my debts. I’m just playing a little game of my own.” “Let’s bet on how many cups of ghost pepper water it will take for you to cough and wet yourself.” I signaled my bodyguards to open the cardboard box on the table. Inside were dozens of cups of prepared ghost pepper water. “You had your fun with me this afternoon. Now, we’re going to play the exact same game.” “Drink.” Amelia clenched her teeth, refusing to open her mouth. Just as a bodyguard forced a cup toward her lips, Ethan’s furious voice roared from the doorway. “Stop!” He pushed past the bodyguards blocking the entrance and rushed inside. Seeing Amelia pinned to the chair, he didn’t hesitate for a second. He pulled her into his arms, shielding her. “Clara, what the hell is wrong with you?” The moment Amelia saw him, her tears fell like rain. “Ethan, I was just playing a harmless prank on Clara this afternoon.” “But she brought all these people to corner me. She even threatened me with a knife.” She pointed to the lock of hair on the floor. “If you had come any later, she would have ruined my face.” Ethan stared at her for a long time, making sure she wasn’t actually hurt, before finally turning his cold gaze to me. “Amelia went a bit too far this afternoon, I admit that.” “But did you really have to make such a big scene?” “You’re healthy. A little coughing fit won’t kill you.” “Amelia has a weak stomach. Drinking this stuff will actually put her in the hospital.” So he remembered Amelia had a weak stomach. But he completely forgot that I was seven months pregnant, and my doctor had repeatedly warned me to avoid anything spicy or irritating. I didn’t bother arguing with him. I only asked one question: “Did you tell her about my pregnancy incontinence?” Ethan fell silent for a few seconds. “I only mentioned it casually once,” he muttered. “How was I supposed to know she would turn it into a bet?” When I was three months pregnant, I leaked for the first time because of a sudden sneeze. Back then, I had locked myself in the bathroom, too embarrassed to even open the door. Ethan had stood outside, gently comforting me for an hour. Later, he carried me to the bed and changed the sheets himself. He told me there was nothing to be ashamed of between husband and wife. He promised me, “This will be our little secret. No one else will ever know.” But now, even his little assistant could use my deepest embarrassment as a joke to humiliate me. Amelia hid behind his back, pretending to be innocent. “Clara, don’t get the wrong idea.” “Ethan was just worried about your postpartum recovery, so we talked about it.” “I even looked up pelvic floor physical therapy for you.” I looked at her coldly. “Was posting that video on Snapchat also to help me recover?” Amelia’s face stiffened for a second, but she quickly sneered. “I only sent it to a few friends in a group chat.” “They were the ones who shared it online. It’s not my fault.” She held her phone up to my face. The video of me in the mall had already been shared tens of thousands of times. The comment section was filled with vile laughter mocking my body and my stained dress. Someone had even made a GIF of my humiliated expression. Ethan glanced at the screen. “The internet has a short memory,” he said dismissively. “The trend will die down in a few days, and no one will remember.” He said it so easily. Because he wasn’t the one filmed in his most vulnerable moment. He wasn’t the one being laughed at by tens of thousands of strangers online. I ordered my bodyguard to pour another cup of ghost pepper water. “I won’t make things difficult for her.” “Drink this, delete the video, and make a public apology on Instagram.” “Then, we’ll call it even.” But Amelia didn’t reach for the cup. Instead, she gently touched her lower abdomen. The crying, pitiful girl from seconds ago was gone, replaced by a smug, victorious look. “I can’t drink this.” “The doctor said pregnant women should avoid spicy things.” I thought I had misheard her. “What did you say?” Amelia pulled a prenatal report from her designer bag and unfolded it in front of me. “I’m pregnant. The baby is Ethan’s.”

I stared at the medical report, completely speechless. Amelia seemed highly satisfied with my reaction. She wrapped her arm around Ethan’s, intentionally pressing her belly against him. “Clara, don’t be mad.” “I never wanted to take your place as Mrs. Carter.” “But don’t be too controlling. My baby will still need to see their father often in the future.” Ethan didn’t push her away. Instead, he looked down at her gently and murmured, “The doctor told you not to stand for too long. Go sit on the sofa.” He helped Amelia to the couch and ordered my bodyguards to take the pepper water away. Only after making sure there was nothing in the room that could harm her did he turn his attention back to me. His tone was incredibly calm, as if we were discussing a minor business deal. “Once, when I accompanied you to your prenatal checkup, Amelia wanted to play a game. She dared me to kiss her in the hospital hallway to see if you would catch us.” “We got carried away, and I lost control.” “But I never planned on divorcing you. I won’t let her threaten your position as my wife.” He even walked over and gently adjusted my coat for me. His touch was as warm as it had always been. But the words coming out of his mouth were ice cold. “Clara, we both grew up in this upper-class circle.” “Which man in our circle doesn’t have a few women on the side?” “Keeping a quiet, obedient mistress to relieve stress is completely normal.” “You were raised to be a perfect society wife. You should know when to make a scene and when to look the other way.” I stared at him, suddenly remembering the Ethan from many years ago. Back then, Ethan hated nothing more than the so-called “rules” of high society. His father had kept countless mistresses outside. His mother had spent her entire life clinging to her title as Mrs. Carter, yet she didn’t even get to see her husband one last time before she died. On the day of her funeral, an eighteen-year-old Ethan had knelt in the grief hall all night, his eyes bloodshot. The next morning, he had held my hand and promised: “Clara, I will never, ever become a man like my father.” When he was twenty-two, the Carter family tried to force him into an arranged marriage with another heiress. Ethan had flipped the tea table right in front of both families’ elders, grabbed my hand, and walked out of the Carter estate. Behind us, dozens of relatives roared in anger, and a fleet of luxury cars blocked the driveway. He didn’t even look back. That night, the Carter family froze all his credit cards and repossessed all his properties. With only a few hundred dollars left in his pocket, he had looked at me and laughed: “What’s there to be afraid of?” “Even without the Carter family, I can still give you the best life.” And he had kept that promise. When he proposed, he rented a private island. Hundreds of drones formed my name in the night sky over the ocean. The pink diamond on my engagement ring was bought at a Geneva auction for a staggering nine-figure sum. On the eve of our wedding, he had signed a Prenuptial Agreement with an Infidelity Clause right in front of all his family elders. The agreement clearly stated: If he ever cheated or fathered a child with another woman during our marriage, all his shares in the Carter Group, his family trusts, and his offshore assets would be transferred entirely to my name. At that time, everyone tried to persuade him not to sign it. But Ethan had handed me the pen, his face glowing with absolute confidence. “Sign it, Clara.” “I’ll never give you a chance to use it anyway.” I had believed him with all my heart. So, when the Carter Group’s capital chain broke, I convinced my father to use the Vance family’s funds to bail him out. When he was attacked by the board of directors, I handed him all of the Vance family’s voting rights. The day Ethan secured his position as the sole heir of the Carter Group, he held me tight and said: “Everything I have now was given to me by you.” “In this life, you will be my only wife.” Now, he still ruled the Carter Group. But he had finally become the very monster he used to despise.

Seeing that I remained silent, Ethan assumed I had finally accepted the reality. His voice softened. “Once the baby is born, I’ll buy Amelia a house in another city and give her a generous allowance.” “She won’t ever show up in front of you.” “You will still be Mrs. Carter, and our child will be the only legally recognized heir to the Carter fortune.” Amelia leaned back on the sofa, gently caressing her stomach. “Clara, Ethan still loves you the most.” “I’m happy enough just having him visit me once in a while.” She sounded so submissive. But the smugness in her eyes was glaring. They probably thought I would be just like Ethan’s mother, swallowing all the humiliation just to keep up appearances. I smiled slightly and turned to my bodyguard. “Call the legal team in.” “Trigger Clause 7 of the Prenuptial Agreement.” The moment I finished speaking, a dozen lawyers walked into the room. Leading them was Robert Davis, who handed a set of documents directly to Ethan. “Mr. Carter.” “Miss Rose’s prenatal report is sufficient proof of your infidelity, which violates the terms of the Prenuptial Agreement.” “As of this moment, your 37% shares in the Carter Group are officially transferred to Miss Clara Vance.” “Furthermore, the Vance family’s financial funding to the Carter Group is officially terminated.” Ethan’s phone immediately began to ring loudly. It was the Chairman of the Board. Even from a distance, I could hear the panicked roaring on the other end. “Ethan! What the hell did you do?” “The Vance family just pulled all their investments! The bank is calling in our loans!” “The board is demanding an emergency meeting to suspend you immediately!” Ethan gripped his phone, his face draining of all color. “Clara, we’ve been together for so many years.” “Are you really going to ruin everything I’ve built over a stupid little mistake?” I looked at him and laughed. “Ethan, didn’t you say you wanted to keep a mistress?” “I’m leaving her to you.” “As for the house, and the money you wanted to use to support her…” I snatched the keys to his luxury penthouse right out of his hand. “They are all mine.” “From today on, I am leaving you with absolutely nothing.” I turned to walk out. Behind me, Ethan finally lost his cool, desperately calling my name. I didn’t look back. At the door, I cast one last look at Amelia. “Congratulations,” I said. “This completely broke man is all yours now.”

But just as I stepped over the threshold, Robert Davis called out to me. “Miss Vance, wait.” His tone was heavier than I had ever heard it before. “We just checked the marriage registry database.” “There is no record of a marriage registration between you and Mr. Carter.” I froze in my tracks. “What do you mean?” Robert glanced at Ethan, his expression grim. “It means the marriage certificate you hold is fake.” “Mr. Carter’s only legal wife, from the very beginning, has been Amelia Rose.” I slowly turned around. The last trace of panic on Amelia’s face had vanished. She pulled two marriage certificates from her bag and waved them at me with a triumphant grin. “Clara, did you really think I was just Ethan’s hidden mistress?” “The pathetic, unregistered side piece has always been you.” I stared at the date on the marriage certificates. Three years ago, June 17th. The exact same day Ethan and I had supposedly gotten married. On that day, after we got our certificates, I had cried tears of joy in Ethan’s arms. Ethan had kissed away my tears and told me: “Clara, from this day on, we are legally husband and wife.” But it had all been a lie. Amelia giggled, covering her mouth. “Oh, by the way, I made a bet with Ethan that day too.” “I bet him that you trusted him so much, you wouldn’t even realize the officiant he hired was a fake, and you’d never check the registry database.” “I told him if you found out, I would leave him forever.” “But if you didn’t notice, he had to go to the real City Hall and marry me.” She flipped open the certificate. “And guess what? You didn’t notice a thing.” “While you were happily going home with your fake certificate, Ethan came to pick me up. We made it to City Hall right before they closed and registered our real marriage.” I looked at Ethan. “Is what she’s saying true?” Ethan avoided my eyes, looking guilty. “It was just a bet, Clara.” “I didn’t think things would turn out like this.” It was just a bet. Because he lost a bet, he handed my rightful title of wife to Amelia. And because I trusted him blindly, I lost my entire marriage without even knowing it. Amelia patted her stomach, her smile growing sweeter by the second. “Ethan even said that day that you were so easy to fool. A little hug, a quick kiss, and you’d never think to double-check.” “Clara, you’ve been a fool for three whole years.” “And now you want to use a Prenuptial Agreement to take his shares? Don’t you find that hilarious?” Robert Davis rapidly flipped through the agreement, his face turning pale. The very first clause of the prenuptial agreement stated: This agreement shall only take effect upon the date of legal marriage registration by both parties. But Ethan and I had never been legally married. Which meant whether he cheated or got Amelia pregnant, the agreement was completely invalid. I couldn’t touch a single share of his 37% holdings. Ethan finally looked up, adjusting his collar. The confidence returned to his eyes. “Clara, it’s not too late to stop this.” “Tell the Vance family to restore the funding and stop pressuring the board.” “I can overlook the fact that you broke into this apartment with a mob tonight.” “In the future, you can move to the suburban villa. Just focus on having the baby and stop causing trouble.” I stared at him. “And if I say no?” Heavy, synchronized footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway. Several police officers walked through the door. Amelia immediately threw herself into Ethan’s chest, crying hysterically while pointing to her head. “Officers, it’s her!” “She broke into my home with hundreds of men, held a knife to my face, and tried to force me to drink toxic liquids!” “I’m pregnant! She wanted to murder me and my baby!” Ethan held her tightly, looking at the police. “Officer, Clara Vance has been mentally unstable lately.” “She caused a scene at the mall this afternoon, and now she’s bringing armed men to my home.” “I’m genuinely terrified she will hurt my wife and our child.” Wife. He could finally call Amelia his wife, openly and proudly. The officer looked at the dagger in my hand, then at the bodyguards filling the room. “Miss Vance, we’re going to need you to come with us to the station for questioning.”

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The charity student I had been sponsoring for ten years just got into a university near my house. He asked if he could crash at my place for a few days to get used to the city before the semester started. In my past life, I readily agreed. I not only bought him all kinds of daily necessities, but also prepared a brand-new MacBook and an iPhone as a reward for his hard work. But when he saw them, his face darkened instantly. “Liam, I used to think you were just some average middle-class guy. I actually felt grateful to you.” “I didn’t expect you to be this rich. Giving me just this cheap stuff seems a bit insulting, don’t you think?” “And that three-hundred-dollar monthly allowance you promised is a joke. It needs to be at least three thousand.” I refused him on the spot and told him that if he found it too little, he could find someone else to sponsor him. Seeing my firm stance, he immediately apologized, claiming he was just making a joke. I thought he had learned his lesson. I was wrong. That very night, while I was working late at the office, he slipped a massive dose of sleeping pills to my three-year-old daughter. Then, he crawled into my wife’s bed. By the time I found out, my daughter was already dead from an overdose. I was consumed by rage. But during our physical confrontation, he pushed me off the balcony, sending me plummeting to my death. Afterward, he used his sweet talk to seduce my wife, got her pregnant, and successfully took over my position, stealing my entire estate. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day the charity student called. Hearing his request to stay at my place, my face remained dead calm. “Sorry, Tristan. My house isn’t open to strangers.” “Also, since you are now an adult, you’ll have to figure out your own tuition and living expenses from now on.”

Before I could even hang up the phone, my wife, Chloe, snatched it right out of my hand. Her voice turned incredibly sweet as she spoke into the receiver. “Tristan, don’t mind Liam. He’s just exhausted from work today and in a bad mood.” “It’s just staying over for a few days, of course you can. I’ll pick you up from the station tomorrow.” She hung up and turned to glare at me, her voice filled with annoyance. “Liam, what the hell is wrong with you?” “You’ve sponsored him for ten years. What’s a few more years of college? You should finish what you started.” “The poor boy came all this way for school. He doesn’t know anyone here. What’s wrong with letting him crash on our couch for a few days?” I snatched the phone back and looked at her coldly. “I said no, Chloe. And I mean it.” “It’s my money. I give it to whoever I want. If I don’t want to, no one gets a single dime from me.” Tristan’s whimpering, victim-playing voice immediately came through the speaker. “Liam, Chloe, please don’t fight because of me.” “It’s my fault. I didn’t think this through. I didn’t mean to disrupt your family’s life.” “I won’t come, okay? Liam, please don’t be mad at Chloe.” “Please, I beg you, don’t cut off my tuition and allowance. I really want to go to college.” I let out a cold laugh. “Cut the act, Tristan. My decision is final.” With that, I hung up. Chloe’s face darkened instantly. “Did you take the wrong meds today? How can you be so heartless?” “Tristan is such a sweet, sensible boy. Why are you pushing him into a corner?” I stared at Chloe’s face. My mind was flooded with images of her ugly, smirking face when she committed perjury in court in my past life. Tristan was the one who murdered me and our daughter. Yet, to protect Tristan and the bastard child in her belly, she ruthlessly painted me as a depressed, lunatic husband who poisoned his own daughter before jumping off the balcony. An uncontrollable wave of pure hatred surged from the depths of my soul. I pointed directly at the front door. “Chloe, let me make this crystal clear.” “If you ever contact Tristan again, we are getting a divorce.”

Chloe froze, clearly not expecting me to take it this far. She sighed and reached out to grab my arm, her tone softening. “Liam, don’t be mad.” “I just thought since you sponsored Tristan for so many years, you actually liked the kid.” “I had no idea you despised him this much.” “Fine, fine. I promise I won’t contact him again. Just stop throwing the word ‘divorce’ around, okay?” I brushed her hand off, not even wanting to look at her. Chloe cleared her throat awkwardly. “By the way, the office is sending me on a business trip for a few days.” “Get some rest at home. I’ll bring you a nice gift when I get back.” I genuinely thought that without Tristan’s interference, I could still keep this family together. After all, my daughter was so young. I didn’t want her to suffer the pain of a broken family. But the next afternoon, when I went to pick my daughter up from her after-school art class. Just as I reached the door, the teacher ran up to me. “Mr. Vance, what are you doing here?” “Lily was already picked up by her mom and a young man a little while ago.” A horrible sense of dread washed over me. I frantically dialed Chloe’s number. The phone rang for a long time before she finally picked up. “Chloe! Where the hell did you take my daughter?!” Chloe’s cheerful voice came through the line. “Oh, you’re off work? I already brought Lily home.” “There’s a huge surprise waiting for you. Hurry back!” Ignoring whatever “surprise” she had, I slammed my foot on the gas and sped home as fast as I could. When I kicked the front door open, Tristan was sitting on my sofa. He was holding a glass of milk, slowly moving it toward my daughter’s lips. In my past life, this was exactly what Tristan did when I wasn’t home. He crushed a massive amount of sleeping pills, mixed them into the milk, and tricked my three-year-old daughter into drinking it. By the time I found out, her tiny body was already cold. Pure terror seized me. I rushed over like a madman and slapped the glass right out of Tristan’s hand. “Get the hell away from my daughter!” With a loud crash, the glass shattered on the hardwood floor, spilling white milk everywhere. Lily burst into tears, terrified. I scooped her up, holding her tightly against my chest, my entire body shaking with rage and fear. Tristan gasped, looking at the spilled milk on the floor, pretending to be completely helpless and shocked. Hearing the commotion, Chloe ran out of the kitchen. Seeing the mess and our crying daughter, she screamed at me. “Are you out of your mind?!” I glared at Tristan with venom in my eyes, then turned to demand an answer from Chloe. “I asked you, why is he in my house?!” Chloe quickly pulled Tristan behind her back, shielding him. “My business trip was canceled! Tristan just arrived at the train station, so I picked him up on my way back to have dinner with us. What is your problem?” I looked at her coldly. “Chloe, do you treat my words as a joke?” “What did I tell you yesterday? If you contact him again, we are divorcing!” Hearing this, Chloe lost her temper completely. “You are being absolutely ridiculous!” “I brought Tristan here because I wanted you to see how amazing and talented this boy is!” “If you just spend a few days with him, you’ll change your mind!” “I’m trying to save your ten-year investment from going down the drain, and this is how you treat me? You’re threatening me with divorce!” Tristan peeked out from behind Chloe, his eyes red, looking incredibly wronged and stubborn. “Liam, please don’t blame Chloe. It’s all my fault.” “Both of you are my saviors. I don’t want you guys to fight because of me.” “I’ll leave right now. I won’t get in your way.”

He made a show of grabbing his suitcase, but stopped right at the front door. “As for my tuition and living expenses, don’t worry, Liam. I’ll find a way.” “Even if… even if I have to steal or rob, I will get the money.” Chloe immediately grabbed Tristan’s arm, her heart breaking for him. “Tristan, don’t say such foolish things!” “Don’t worry. Even if he doesn’t sponsor you, I will make sure you finish college!” Then she turned and glared at me with absolute hatred. “Look at what you’ve done!” “I thought you were a generous, noble man. I didn’t realize you were so petty and narrow-minded!” “You are pushing a good kid into a life of crime!” I let out a cold, mocking laugh. Whether he went to steal or rob was none of my business. I wasn’t the one forcing him. Seeing that I remained silent, Chloe sighed. “You’ve been working too much overtime lately, so I’ll let this slide. I know you’re just talking out of anger.” “I’m going to take Tristan out for a nice dinner to calm him down.” “Stay home and cool your head! And stop using divorce as a threat.” “Lily is only three. If she grows up without a mother, she’ll be laughed at by all the other kids at preschool!” With that, she dragged Tristan out the door. Before leaving, Tristan turned back and shot me a quick look. That look was filled with smugness and pure provocation. Not long after, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Chloe on Snapchat. “Since you don’t want Tristan staying at the house, I’m taking him to a nearby luxury hotel for now.” “I’ll take him around the city for a few days to clear his head.” “You should spend this time reflecting on your behavior.” I stared at the screen and let out a cold laugh. Reflecting? Oh, I definitely needed to reflect. Reflect on how blind I was to have married such a piece of garbage who constantly backed an outsider over her own family. Chloe’s heart was completely rotten. Since that was the case, there was nothing left to say. I dialed my lawyer’s number immediately. “Gary, draft a divorce agreement for me. I need it done as fast as possible.” Then, I called a private investigator I knew well. “I need you to investigate two people for me. My wife, Chloe Vance, and a college student named Tristan.” Over the next few days, Chloe didn’t contact me, and I thoroughly enjoyed the peace. But looking at my daughter, I couldn’t help but feel anxious. This house was no longer safe. Who knew what disgusting tricks Tristan would pull next? With that in mind, I quickly packed a few of Lily’s clothes and daily necessities. I put her in her car seat and drove straight to my parents’ house. Just as I arrived, my phone buzzed with two photos from Tristan. The first photo showed a massive, luxurious bed in a five-star hotel. Laid out neatly on it were a brand-new MacBook Pro, an iPhone 15 Pro Max, several luxury watches, and a few designer men’s suits with the tags still on. The second photo showed two hands clasped together. On their ring fingers were matching Cartier love rings. I didn’t even need to guess whose hands those were. It was Chloe and Tristan. Looking at the photos, I chuckled. Tristan probably thought he had landed himself a super-rich sugar mama. But what he didn’t know was this: The only reason we lived in a penthouse and drove luxury cars was because I worked my ass off, pulling crazy overtime to become the Vice President of my company. Meanwhile, Chloe had zero ambition. She had been working the same dead-end, lazy receptionist job for years. Her monthly paycheck, after taxes and insurance, was a pathetic fifteen hundred dollars. And she sent every single penny of that to her toxic, male-favoring family. I only gave her a credit card because I didn’t want her to feel embarrassed when she went shopping with her friends.

I never expected she would use my hard-earned money to play sugar mama to a broke college kid. I called the bank immediately and froze the card. My mom came out of the living room. Seeing my dark expression, she walked over with concern. “What’s wrong? You look awful. Did you and Chloe have a fight?” I didn’t want my parents to worry, so I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “It’s nothing, Mom. Just a minor issue at work.” “I might be really busy for the next few days, so I was hoping you and Dad could watch Lily for a bit.” My dad walked out of his study and scooped Lily into his arms. “Don’t worry about her. Go handle your business.” “But remember, if you’re dealing with something difficult, don’t keep it to yourself.” “Your mother and I will always have your back. If things get too tough, just come home. We can still support you.” Hearing my dad’s words, my eyes welled up with tears. In my past life, after my death. My parents couldn’t bear the grief of losing both their son and granddaughter. They both passed away shortly after. In this life, I would never let that tragedy happen again. Leaving my parents’ house, I drove back to my apartment complex. Just as I parked my car and got out, I ran right into Chloe and Tristan. Chloe’s face was livid. The moment she saw me, she charged at me. “Liam! What the hell is your problem?!” “Why did you freeze my card?!” I looked at her coldly. “Let me remind you, Chloe. That is my card.” “Do I need your permission to freeze my own credit card?” Chloe’s face flushed red with anger, completely speechless. Seeing this, Tristan stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Chloe’s shoulder. “What do you mean, ‘your card’?” “Liam, don’t think I don’t know the truth. Chloe told me everything. You only enjoy this rich lifestyle because of her hard work over the years.” “I didn’t expect you to be such an ungrateful leech, trying to steal Chloe’s money just because you’re married to her!” He turned to Chloe, his face filled with dramatic pity. “Chloe, this kind of man doesn’t deserve you.” “He’s just dead weight. You should divorce him right now!” I sneered in my mind. A few days ago, he was playing the polite kid, and now he was calling her ‘Chloe’ so naturally. It was the evening rush hour, and many neighbors were returning home. Hearing the loud argument, they began to gather around us. Seeing the crowd, Tristan’s eyes turned red. He pointed a finger at me, shouting dramatically. “Everyone, please listen to this!” “He promised to sponsor my college education.” “But right before the semester started, he told me that if I wanted the money, I had to obey him.” “He wanted me… he wanted me to sleep with the rich, older women he introduced me to!” “If Chloe hadn’t stepped in to save me out of the goodness of her heart, I don’t know what I would have done…” With that, Tristan covered his face, looking like he was traumatized and deeply victimized. The neighbors’ looks toward me shifted instantly. “Oh my god, he looks like such a decent guy. Who knew he was doing something so disgusting behind closed doors?” “You can’t judge a book by its cover. He looks so handsome and professional, but his heart is absolutely rotten.” “Exactly! He has a daughter of his own. How could he be so cruel to another kid?” Listening to the whispers, Chloe took a step forward, a smug smile playing on her lips as she whispered to me: “Hear that, Liam? Everyone sees what you are.” “I’m warning you, unfreeze the card right now, and I might help you clear your name before this gets out of hand.”

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My husband has split personality disorder. Or so I thought. On our anniversary, he dragged me to his lawyer’s office for the third time to force me to sign the divorce papers. Right after, he forced abortion-inducing pills down my throat. I blacked out from the excruciating pain and spent three days in the hospital. When I was finally discharged, I saw Ethan standing near the hospital entrance. He was surrounded by his close friends. One of them, Marcus, leaned in and asked in a low voice: “Ethan, how much longer are you going to use this split-personality lie to trick Hazel? Do you really not care about the baby at all?” Ethan casually flicked a piece of lint off his jacket. “Chloe has been having nightmares again about how Hazel bullied her back in high school. She’s depressed and can’t sleep. I had to do this to make her feel better.” “Besides, Hazel is fertile. We can have another baby whenever we want.” Tyler looked at him, his face filled with pity. “But Hazel spent every single penny of her savings to find a cure for your mental illness. She didn’t even get to see her parents one last time before they died because she was traveling to find a specialist for you.” Ethan let out a cold scoff. “She spent that money voluntarily. And I’m supporting her for the rest of her life, isn’t that enough?” “Once Chloe gets over her trauma, I’ll just pretend my ‘other personality’ is cured. Hazel will crawl right back to me and call off the divorce anyway.” A sharp, tearing pain flared in my lower abdomen. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. What he didn’t know was that three times was my limit. Once this 30-day separation cooling-off period ended, He and I would be finished forever. ……

Standing next to Ethan, Chloe lowered her eyes. Tears quickly welled up in her eyes. “Ethan, lying to Hazel like this isn’t a long-term solution.” “You’re pretending to be mentally ill for my sake, letting people whisper behind your back. It makes me feel so guilty.” Hearing this, Ethan immediately turned and pulled her close. He gently stroked her hair. Chloe leaned into his chest, looking fragile and helpless. “It’s nothing,” Ethan’s voice was incredibly gentle, a stark contrast to the cold indifference he had used when talking about me. “As long as you can escape the shadow of your past and find peace, I don’t care how long I have to play this part.” Chloe buried her face in his shoulder, a small, triumphant smirk playing on her lips. But when she looked up, her eyes were filled with fake fear and jealousy. She let out a shaky sob. “But when the thirty days are up, you two will still legally be husband and wife.” “Just thinking about you sharing a house with her makes me shake. I can’t even sleep at night.” I stood hidden behind a maple tree, watching her pathetic, hypocritical act. A wave of nausea hit my stomach. Nobody knew Chloe’s true face better than I did. She and Ethan were childhood sweethearts. But when we were teenagers, Ethan fell for me first. Since then, Chloe’s bullying had never stopped. In high school, she locked me in a dark janitor’s closet during lunch, making me miss a crucial midterm exam. She spread disgusting rumors that I would sleep with anyone for fifty bucks, making the whole school ostracize me. During my period, she forced ice cubes into my underwear, laughing hysterically as I curled up on the bathroom floor, shaking in pain. She even destroyed the birthday gift I had spent months making for Ethan. She stepped on the shattered pieces and whispered in my ear that a girl like me would never be worthy of standing beside him. Back then, I was insecure and naive. I craved Ethan’s tiny scraps of affection so much that I swallowed all the abuse in silence. Later, I managed to marry Ethan. I thought I had finally secured a peaceful life. But the moment Chloe returned from abroad, she twisted the truth. She painted herself as the victim, crying to the world that I was the one who had bullied her for years, leaving her with severe PTSD. Ethan had gently patted her back to comfort her when she told him that lie. His eyes had filled with a deep affection that I mistook for love. “Let it go,” he had told her. “I’ll punish her for you. But I still can’t divorce her just yet.” For a split second back then, I actually thought he still had some lingering feelings for me. Hearing those words now, Chloe’s fingers clenched tightly behind Ethan’s back. I walked straight out from the shadow of the tree. “Since it’s such a hassle for you, Ethan, you don’t need to play this game anymore.” “Once the cooling-off period is over, we will sign the papers and go our separate ways. No one has to suffer.” Ethan didn’t expect me to appear. His body froze. Instinctively, he shielded Chloe behind his back. His voice was a mix of panic and defensiveness. “What are you doing here?” I let out a weak chuckle, my hand resting gently on my aching lower abdomen. “My baby is dead, Ethan. Where else would I be if not at the hospital?” He fell silent. A rare flash of panic crossed his eyes. He took a step toward me, seemingly wanting to check on me. I immediately took a massive step back. “Don’t come near me.” I kept my eyes down, avoiding his complicated gaze. “If acting is this exhausting for you, let’s just stop.” “You don’t have to play the crazy husband anymore, and Chloe won’t have to feel disgusted seeing me every day. It’s a win-win.”

Hearing my words, disbelief washed over Ethan’s face. I had always been submissive. He never imagined I would actually demand a divorce. His raw instinct took over, and he blurted out: “No. I won’t allow it.” Beside him, Chloe’s shoulders slumped. She put on her signature guilt-ridden face and spoke in a soft, self-sacrificing tone: “It’s all my fault. I’m just too weak.” “Hazel must have had a reason to dislike me back then. I deserve to live with this trauma.” “I shouldn’t have complained to you, Ethan. I shouldn’t make Hazel angry again.” Before she even finished speaking, she raised her hand and slapped her own face hard. She kept slapping herself, sobbing loudly. “Hazel, I’ll slap myself ninety-nine times just like before. Please don’t be mad at Ethan.” Ethan immediately grabbed her wrist, stopping her. He gently touched her reddened cheek, his face filled with pain. He turned and barked at Marcus: “Go to the convenience store and get some ice! Hurry!” Chloe began to shake violently, burying her head into Ethan’s chest. Her tears soaked his shirt as she screamed hysterically: “No! No ice!” “That’s what she used to hurt me… I can still feel the cold. I can’t take it!” At those words, Ethan’s gaze turned ice-cold as he glared at me. “Do you hear that? Look at the mental scar you left on her!” “I’ve been trying to make up for your sins, tolerating your behavior this entire time. When are you going to stop being so damn selfish?” My body was weak and trembling. Watching them play their disgusting roles, I forced myself to stand straight and repeated every single word clearly: “I am not making a scene. Once the 30-day period is over, we are signing the papers. We are done.” Ethan’s face darkened completely. Completely ignoring my weak, post-surgery state, He grabbed my arm violently. He dragged me in front of Chloe, forcing me to bow my head. “Apologize to Chloe right now. This isn’t something you can just walk away from.” His words were like daggers to my heart. “You hurt her so badly back then that she can never get pregnant. And I just had to rid you of three of your babies.” “If she forgives you, we can wipe the slate clean. We can go back to how we were.” I looked up into his cold, heartless eyes, Then at Chloe, who was looking at me with a smirk. I let out a mocking laugh. “Apologize to a pathological liar? Never.” Marcus and Tyler quickly stepped in to play peacemakers. “Hazel, don’t be so stubborn. Just say sorry and get it over with.” “Yeah, Hazel. Standing your ground like this is just putting Ethan in a tough spot.” “If you actually get a divorce, you have no family, no money. How are you even going to survive on your own?” Every word they said favored Chloe. They completely ignored the fact that I had just had a forced miscarriage and was standing here in a hospital gown, completely exhausted. Ethan let go of my arm and wrapped his hand around Chloe’s waist. He looked at me, completely confident that I had nowhere else to go. “I know you don’t actually want to leave me, Hazel.” “Your parents are dead. You have no savings. If you leave me, you won’t even be able to afford rent.” He paused, offering what he thought was a generous compromise. “Apologize to Chloe right now. I will let this go. I won’t force you to get miscarriages anymore, and I will keep providing for you.” Chloe clung to him, her eyes gleaming with the triumph of a winner, Waiting for me to break and beg.

Hearing Ethan use my helpless, lonely reality to blackmail me, my heart went completely numb. In the past, I worked at a clinic during the day and washed dishes at restaurants at night. My hands were covered in thick calluses, and every single dollar I earned went toward finding a specialist for his mental illness. My parents had begged me to walk away, crying because they hated seeing me ruin my health for him. But I was blinded by love. I refused to let go. Seeing my stubbornness, my parents had given me their life savings to help support us. During those days, Ethan was genuinely sweet. When I came home late from work, he would wait up with a hot bowl of soup, carefully blowing on it before feeding me. When my cramps got so bad I couldn’t move, he would stay up all night, keeping his warm hands on my stomach. Later, I flew abroad to consult with a brain specialist for him. Midway through the trip, I received a phone call. My parents had been in a fatal car accident. I flew back like a madwoman, Only to find two white sheets covering their bodies in the morgue. I collapsed on the floor, completely shattered. It was Ethan who held me tightly, rubbing my back as he cried with me. “For the rest of my life, I will protect you for them,” he had sworn. He said he didn’t want a dime of my money. He bought them the best plots in a beautiful cemetery and accompanied me there every year. Back then, I truly believed my sacrifice had paid off. But now, knowing I had no family left, He chose to stab me in my deepest wound. I clutched my hospital gown, swallowing the bitter tears. Just as I was about to scream the truth at him, Ethan calmly pulled out his phone. The screen showed a notification for the cemetery plot renewal fees. He looked down at me. “Your parents’ cemetery lease expires next month. They need me to pay the renewal fee.” “If you don’t apologize to Chloe today, I will cancel the lease. I will have their urns dug up and thrown into the sewer.” That single sentence shattered my remaining strength. My parents were all I had left. I couldn’t let them be desecrated after death. The suffocating pain choked my throat. I slowly lowered my head. “I’m sorry.” Those two words took every ounce of energy I had left. Ethan immediately smiled, pulling me into his arms. His warm breath tickled my ear as he whispered: “That’s my good girl. Just behave, and we can go back to how we used to be.” His embrace was warm, but it made my stomach turn with disgust. Chloe, leaning against his other side, spoke up in a sweet, mocking voice: “Speaking of which, I haven’t visited your parents in a long time, Hazel. Let’s go to the cemetery together.” “They were always so nice to me. I want to pay my respects.” I snapped my head up, immediately rejecting her. “No! I’ll go by myself.” Just the thought of the woman who bullied me standing in front of my parents’ graves, pretending to mourn, made me want to throw up. It was a desecration. Ethan’s grip around my waist tightened. His gentle tone vanished, replaced by a cold glare. “Chloe is just trying to be nice. Don’t give her that attitude.” Marcus and the other guys quickly chimed in, telling me not to be ungrateful. They praised Chloe for being so big-hearted and forgiving. Chloe lowered her eyes, playing the hurt victim again, Tugging at Ethan’s sleeve as if she didn’t want to cause trouble. I leaned against Ethan, Watching the strangers walk by the hospital lobby. My heart was completely dead.

The marble gravestones were cold. In the black-and-white photos, my parents smiled warmly. Looking at them, my heart ached with a dull, throbbing pain. Chloe had sent Ethan to the administrative office to pay the fees. Before leaving, Ethan had given me a warning look. “Behave yourself. Don’t cause trouble.” The pain in my stomach was getting worse, so I didn’t bother replying. I squatted down alone, my fingers tracing their photos. I whispered, my voice barely audible: “Mom, Dad… I couldn’t save your third grandchild.” “I’m so tired. Once the 30 days are up, I’m leaving Ethan. I won’t let them hurt me anymore.” Suddenly, Chloe’s mocking laughter echoed behind me. She strolled over and dropped her sweet facade. “If you had just accepted your place earlier, I wouldn’t have had to go to such lengths.” “Know your place, Hazel. Stop clinging to the title of Mrs. Sterling.” I slowly stood up, not surprised at all by her sudden change. I let out a cold laugh. “Even without me, Ethan would never look at a snake like you.” “I am leaving him. Now, get the hell away from my parents’ graves.” My words hit her right where it hurt. Chloe lost her mind. She lunged forward, grabbing my neck, And slammed me hard against my parents’ gravestone. She whispered maniacally in my ear: “I controlled you back then, and I can control you now. You will always be under my shoe.” Her cold words felt like venom dripping into my ears. “You were too scared to tell your parents about the bullying back in high school, weren’t you? Well, I was nice enough to tell them myself.” “I told them exactly what I did to you. They got so panicked they rushed out to find me… and that’s how they got into that car crash. They died because of you, Hazel.” The truth hit me like a physical blow. A wave of pure hatred surged through me. I gathered every bit of strength I had and slapped her across the face. “You monster! How could you be so evil?!” “Hazel! Stop!” Ethan’s angry voice boomed behind us. He rushed forward and caught Chloe, who had deliberately let herself fall to the ground. He wiped away her fake tears, his face twisted in anger. “I told you to behave! Why are you putting your hands on Chloe again?” I looked at him, seeing how blindly he defended her. All my love and hate vanished into thin air. “She’s been lying to you this entire time, Ethan. She caused my parents’ death!” Ethan didn’t believe a single word. He stepped forward, grabbed the back of my neck, And slammed my head against the cold gravestone. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. His grip was so tight it felt like he wanted to break my bones. He snarled: “Kneel here and think about what you did. Look at your parents and ask yourself if you deserve them!” He picked Chloe up in his arms, Turned around, and drove away, leaving me all alone at the mountain cemetery. I knelt in front of the gravestone, tracing my parents’ faces over and over. Eventually, the sky darkened, and a heavy downpour began. My thin hospital gown was soaked in seconds. My weak, post-miscarriage body couldn’t handle the freezing cold. Using the gravestone for support, I forced myself to stand and staggered down the mountain path. The heavy rain completely blocked my vision. As I rounded a sharp turn, A pair of blinding headlights suddenly rushed toward me. Before I could even react, the car hit me, and everything went black. …… On the other side of town, Ethan took Chloe to the hospital for a check-up. As they walked out of the clinic, a young nurse saw them. Her face twisted in disgust, and she muttered under her breath: “What a jerk. How does he even show his face here?” Ethan frowned, about to confront her, When his phone buzzed. It was a full refund notification from the cemetery. He immediately called the cemetery manager. The manager informed him that I had paid off all the fees myself, canceled the lease, and arranged for my parents’ urns to be moved to another cemetery. “Damn it, Hazel. You’re taking this tantrum too far.” He called my number repeatedly, but it went straight to voicemail. A strange panic began to bloom in Ethan’s chest. He decided to drive back to the mountain to find me, But as he walked toward the exit, a team of paramedics rushed past him, pushing a stretcher. “Emergency! Clear the way!” As the stretcher flew past him, A pale, limp hand fell off the side. On her wrist was a faded, red braided bracelet. It was the matching bracelet Ethan and I had woven together when we were teenagers. There was only one pair in the world. The moment Ethan saw it, His heart stopped.

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For the ninety-ninth time, Austin drove straight to my boss Brooke’s mansion. And just like every other time, he blamed me. “Why didn’t you remind me we missed the turn?” “Whatever. Since we’re already here, I might as well drop these fruits off at Brooke’s place.” Before I could answer, he grabbed the basket of organic fruit we’d bought for my parents and headed straight for Brooke’s front door. I didn’t stop him. After all, this had become our routine. When we were supposed to pick up my wedding dress, he ended up driving to the golf club where Brooke was playing. When I was burning up with a high fever, he took my medicine to the bar where Brooke was having a business dinner. Even on my birthday, he brought Brooke to what was supposed to be our date. “Brooke’s been under a lot of pressure lately,” he’d said. “You’re her assistant. Try to be more understanding.” But he had completely forgotten. Today was my very last day at the company. It was also the day I was packing up and moving out of our shared apartment. Since he loved being there so much, he could stay and be Brooke’s loyal watchdog for the rest of his life. *** ###

I locked the car doors, sat in the driver’s seat, and started the engine. Just then, an email notification popped up on my phone. My resignation was officially approved. HR emailed me: *“Wishing you all the best in your future endeavors, Chloe.”* I stared at the confirmation screen and typed back a simple, *“Thank you.”* A second later, my phone vibrated. It was a voice message from Austin. “Where did you drive the car? Get back here right now.” I paused. Looking at our chat history, there was a long list of unread messages from me that he had ignored. This rare moment of him taking the initiative to text me felt almost surreal. But before I could even process it, his next message popped up: “Go buy a set of electric screwdrivers and bring them over. Brooke doesn’t have any here.” I stared at the screen for a few seconds. So, he hadn’t suddenly realized I wasn’t behind him. He only noticed my absence because he needed someone to run his errands. I scrolled up through our chat history. Every single message from him was about Brooke. *“Give that perfume set you brought back from Paris to Brooke. I’ll buy you a new one later.”* *“Brooke said she wanted Japanese food. I already used your card to book a table for her.”* Austin’s texts to me were always demands. He made the decisions, and he never once thought to ask for my opinion. Then there was the most recent message from a rainy day. I had texted him asking if he could pick me up from the subway station. He replied: *“I’m out meeting clients right now. Just take an Uber.”* But five minutes later, Brooke posted a photo on her Instagram. An umbrella was tilted entirely over her, shielding her as she got into the passenger seat of a car. *“Almost got stuck in the storm. Thank God for my personal chauffeur,”* her caption read. I knew the car’s interior all too well. It was Austin’s. Back then, I kept telling myself that he was just trying to help me build a good relationship with my boss. I thought he was doing it for my career. But my constant understanding only made him push the boundaries further. This time, I didn’t reply. While I was packing up my desk at the office, another text from Austin came in: “Why aren’t you back yet? Brooke wanted French food, so I took her to the restaurant first. Just Uber over and meet us.” This wasn’t the first time. Whenever we made plans to eat out, if I was even slightly late because of work or traffic, Austin would lose his temper and blame me. He never cared about my feelings. “Brooke is your boss. She’s under a lot of pressure, so it’s normal for her to have a bad temper. What’s the big deal if she snaps at you a little? Stop being so dramatic.” *Stop being so dramatic.* That was also what he said when a pipe burst in my apartment, flooding the entire place. I had called him in a panic. And he had said: “I don’t have time to deal with that. Just call a plumber yourself. Stop being so dramatic.” So, I learned to dry the carpets, change the light bulbs, and fix things on my own. I slowly learned to stop relying on him. But when it came to Brooke, he was a completely different person. “Brooke is always so busy with work. If she needs help around her house, I’ll just handle it. Since she lives so close to Chloe, it’s on my way anyway.” I couldn’t understand. Why was helping me “being dramatic,” but helping Brooke was “just on his way”? I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and texted him back: *“You guys go ahead. I’m busy.”* It took him an hour to reply: *“Are you throwing a tantrum again? Chloe, grow up. Stop acting like a child.”* I used to throw tantrums. Last winter, I had a terrible fever in the middle of the night. Shivering under the blankets, I called him and asked him to bring me some medicine. He told me he was on his way to Brooke’s party because Brooke had had too much to drink, and he needed to bring her painkillers and electrolyte drinks. I told him I was really sick too. He stayed silent for two seconds before saying, “You can still make phone calls, so it can’t be that bad. Just call an Uber to the ER. It’s a twenty-minute drive. Hang in there.” That was the first time I felt I couldn’t take it anymore. He was my boyfriend, yet I was never his priority. I broke up with him that night. But he didn’t even argue. He just blocked my number. He knew I loved him too much. He knew I couldn’t leave him. So, he let me cry for two days straight until my tears ran dry. And then, like a fool, I went back to him. Since then, I had never thrown another tantrum. But this time was different. I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was done. *** ###

I got back to my apartment. Packed cardboard boxes were stacked up in the hallway, and the living room looked completely empty. Only then did I realize that after seven years of dating, there were barely any traces of Austin in my apartment. Just a pair of dusty slippers and a coffee mug he used once. And I was the one who bought both of them. He had never given me a decent gift. Yet, for Brooke’s birthday, he went out of his way to order a massive bouquet of her favorite red roses. When I asked him about it, he always said, “Those materialistic things are pointless. Real partners don’t care about fancy gifts.” I had questioned him. I had expressed my frustration. But he simply replied, “I only buy gifts for your boss to make you look good in front of her.” I laughed at my own stupidity. My phone vibrated. It was my mom calling. “Hey, Chloe. Have you and Austin decided on a wedding date yet?” Not long ago, our parents had met. My parents were very happy with him, but when it came to setting a date, Austin said he wanted to focus on his career first and that there was no rush. At the time, though disappointed, I tried to be understanding of his career goals. But now, I only felt relieved. If a man constantly drove his car to another woman’s house before marriage, how could I ever trust him to come home to me after? “Mom, we’re not getting married. I’m breaking up with him.” My mom’s voice instantly grew tense. “Why? Did he cheat on you?” “No. I just realized we’re not right for each other.” Silence fell over the line. After all, everyone knew I had loved Austin desperately for seven years. I was the one who chased him first. To get close to him, I joined the outdoor hiking club he liked and hung out at his favorite coffee shops just to “bump into” him. After graduation, he got a job offer in Los Angeles. Without a second thought, I turned down a prestigious recommendation from my professor and took an assistant job at Brooke’s company just to be in the same city as him. My mom was so angry she didn’t speak to me for three days, but I only told her, “Mom, if I lose him, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” Back then, Brooke even joked with me: “Chloe, you are completely whipped. He’s got you locked down.” Brooke used to be a good boss. She looked out for me, and we got along like friends. But no one expected that she would eventually enjoy my boyfriend’s undivided attention without a single shred of guilt. I opened Instagram and saw Brooke’s latest post. It was a video of her romantic dinner. The location was tagged at the high-end French restaurant I had mentioned to Austin dozens of times. The candles flickered, the plates were artfully arranged, and a live piano played in the background. Every time I asked Austin to take me there, he would say, “We’re saving up for a wedding, Chloe. Can you be more practical? A single dinner there costs hundreds of dollars. We can have a candlelit dinner at home.” But now, just because Brooke wanted French food, he took her to the exact restaurant I had been dreaming of. I sank onto the couch, feeling utterly exhausted. Last year, when I bought a heavy wardrobe, I called Austin to ask if he could help me assemble it. He said he had a team-building event and told me to hire a tasker. To save money, I spent the entire night assembling it myself by watching YouTube tutorials. I ended up cutting my hand on a sharp screw. Yet, when Brooke bought new cabinets, Austin took a half-day off from work to help her. “It’s heavy lifting, and Brooke is living alone. As her friend, I should help out,” he had said. I remembered watching him sweat as he worked on her furniture, realizing he looked like a complete stranger to me. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to assemble furniture. He just didn’t want to waste his time on me.

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My husband had recently become obsessed with filming “couple prank” videos for TikTok. Late one night, he suddenly called me. His voice was unusually serious. “I cheated on you.” I thought it was just another one of his carefully prepared pranks. Playing along, I answered without hesitation,, “What a coincidence. I cheated too.” I waited for him to laugh and say, “Got you!” Like he always did. Instead, the line went silent. A few seconds later, he let out a relieved chuckle. “Thank God. Now I don’t have to worry about violating the prenup.” “The divorce papers are in the safe. The password is our wedding anniversary.” Then he hung up. Still smiling, I walked to the safe and entered the code. The divorce papers… were real. Just as I was about to call him back to confront him, my phone buzzed with a message from his new assistant. “Mrs. Carter, this isn’t a prank.” “I’m pregnant with your husband’s child. I’m six months along.” **Chapter 1** A photo of a pregnant belly was sent to my phone. I went completely cold, waves of nausea washing over me. I forced down the sickness and called Ethan back. It took three tries before he finally picked up. A young woman’s sweet, whiny voice came from the other side. “Babe, who is it? Calling so late…” Then came Ethan’s cold voice. “Did I not make myself clear?” I quickly explained, “I didn’t cheat! I thought you were recording another prank challenge, so I just played along…” He cut me off with a scoff. “Changing your story now? Did you see the terms in the divorce agreement and want to clear your name?” “Let me tell you, that’s not happening.” “I’ve already recorded you admitting to cheating.” “With my current net worth and resources, you stand absolutely zero chance if we go to court.” “For the sake of our history, I’ll let you keep the condo downtown, plus an extra three million dollars. Consider it my thanks for you staying at home to take care of me all these years.” He paused. “Sign the papers tomorrow. Let’s make this clean.” I married him right after college. I was by his side when he started from nothing, watching his tech company grow into an industry giant. I watched him become a billionaire. And in the end, my ten years of devotion and sacrifice were only worth a condo and three million dollars? His casual words crushed my heart into dust. My voice trembled. “Ethan! I know you’re doing this for a TikTok prank. Please stop lying to me, okay?” I still didn’t want to believe it, desperately clinging to that sliver of hope. But the voice on the other end changed. It was his new assistant, Olivia Ward. “Chloe, Ethan isn’t filming a prank. What’s between us is real.” “I’m already pregnant.” The phone seemed to be snatched back, but I could hear his faint voice in the background. “Why waste your breath on her? Let’s keep going.” My chest burned with acid. Before I could say another word, the call was disconnected. When I tried calling back, his phone was already turned off. I couldn’t sleep. I sat there in a daze for a long time. My tears soaked into the silk nightgown he had bought me just yesterday. “Sweetheart, I had a designer custom-make this for you. I hope it helps you sleep better.” I smiled bitterly, wiping my nose, and looked down at the diamond bracelet on my wrist. He had given me this bracelet the day before yesterday. “The moment I saw it, I knew it was perfect for you.” “People say women age after marriage, but to me, you’ll always be the girl who stole my heart.” I ripped the bracelet off and slammed it onto the hardwood floor. There was no going back… At eight o’clock the next morning, Ethan sent me a location. [Come here at ten. Bring the signed divorce papers.] Looking in the mirror, I seemed to have aged three years overnight. I had to apply concealer five times just to hide the dark circles under my eyes. I tried my best to look put together, but nothing could hide how exhausted I was after a sleepless night. When I arrived at the cafe, I saw Ethan sitting with Olivia. She sat right next to Ethan, leaving the seat opposite them empty. As soon as I sat down, Ethan pushed an iced Americano toward me. “I ordered this for you.” “But I never drink iced Americanos. You know I have a sensitive stomach. My ulcer just flared up again two days ago. I can’t drink cold things.” He frowned and pulled the coffee back. “Sorry, I forgot.” Just as he was about to order me something else, Olivia spoke up with a look of mock apology. “Chloe, I’m so sorry. That coffee was actually meant for me. This warm milk is what Ethan ordered for you.” “But my stomach suddenly hurt, and I wanted something warm, so I swapped them.” I didn’t hear a word she said. I just stared at her twenty-two-year-old face, feeling a sharp pang of envy. She was so young. No wonder Ethan liked her. I used to look like that, too. Suddenly, she stared at the necklace on my neck and gasped, looking at Ethan. “Didn’t I tell you to return this? Why is Chloe wearing it?” **Chapter 2** I frowned. “What do you mean?” Olivia smiled brightly. “Ethan saw this necklace and thought it would look good on me, so he bought it.” “But I didn’t really like it, so I told him to return it.” This necklace was a gift from Ethan for our seventh wedding anniversary, six months ago. “I was busy with meetings all day today, but I managed to slip out to the mall to pick this out. I thought it would look great on you.” I had looked at the pendant design and teased him with a smile, “Why did you buy me something that looks like it’s for a teenage girl?” He had just kissed my forehead. “In my heart, you’ll always be the same girl who stole my heart ten years ago. Now, go get ready. I’m making dinner, and we’ll celebrate our anniversary with a candlelit dinner.” Tears flooded my swollen eyes again. I must have looked pathetic. I struggled to unclasp the necklace, ripped it off, and threw it to the ground, letting it gather dust. Ethan looked annoyed. “Alright, calm down. I admit I forgot the exact date of our anniversary back then.” “But I couldn’t just go back empty-handed, so I got you that. I saw you wearing it all the time, so I thought you liked it.” I completely broke down. I grabbed the iced Americano and threw it right in his face. “I wore it not because I liked it, but because you gave it to me!” “Ethan, what do you take me for?” As I screamed those last words, a sharp pain shot through my stomach, and I collapsed onto my seat. But a second later, a cup of sticky, warm milk was splashed all over my face. “Chloe! I’ve always respected you, but how dare you throw coffee at Ethan in public?!” “Since you did that, don’t blame me for returning the favor.” Ethan immediately comforted her. “It’s fine, Olivia. I’m just here for the divorce papers. Don’t waste your time on her.” After Olivia finished wiping the coffee off his face and clothes, he held out his hand to me. “Give me the signed papers. Let’s not waste each other’s time.” “I’m not signing. As long as I don’t divorce you, Olivia will always be nothing but a dirty homewrecker.” Seeing my refusal, his anger flared instantly. “Don’t you have a side piece of your own? Or do you want an open marriage?” I felt sick to my stomach. “I don’t have anyone! I told you, I thought you were filming a TikTok prank, so I played along!” “You’re the only one who cheated!” But he scoffed. “Say whatever you want. This divorce is happening. Besides, you can never give me a child.” “But Olivia is pregnant with my baby. I have to take responsibility.” His words stabbed the most painful, vulnerable part of my heart. Ten years ago, to save Ethan during a mugging, I took a knife wound to the abdomen. The sharp blade pierced my lower stomach, and blood instantly soaked my dress. The doctors fought hard to save my life. But they told me— I would never be able to have children of my own. Ethan had stayed by my hospital bed, crying as he promised me, “Don’t be afraid. It doesn’t matter if we can’t have kids.” “I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.” “I will never let you down.” The pain made it hard to breathe. Finally, I gathered my thoughts and asked him, “When did you two start?” He didn’t hesitate. “Yesterday was our one-year anniversary. Today is day three hundred and sixty-six.” He remembered it so clearly. **Chapter 3** I smiled. “You’ve been together for so long, and Olivia only got pregnant now?” A condescending smirk played on his lips. “Olivia has standards. She refused to sleep with me until I promised to divorce you.” I stood up on my shaky legs, pointing at him. “Then what was our sex life for the past year to you?” He decided to stop hiding. “Let’s just say I couldn’t bring myself to ruin Olivia, so I used you to satisfy my needs.” “You already know the answer anyway. Why ask? Just to humiliate yourself?” My stomach cramped violently, and I dry-heaved again. The milk on my face tasted bitter, and I laughed at myself. “So the nightgown and the diamond bracelet… they were just things Olivia didn’t want, right?” He didn’t answer, which was as good as a confession. He just kept urging me without looking up. “Just sign it.” I pulled the papers from my bag and tore them to shreds. “Never. I won’t let you two be together!” Olivia threw a stack of photos onto the table, sliding them to me with a smug smile. “Chloe, I have proof of your affair. If you refuse to sign, we can post these online.” “If that happens, you won’t just lose Ethan—you won’t get the condo or the three million dollars either.” My head spun. I picked up the photos, but before I could even look at them, everything went black and I collapsed. When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. A beam of light fell across Ethan’s face, making him look just like the man who loved me with all his heart ten years ago. He handed me a bowl of oatmeal, his tone surprisingly cold. “You haven’t eaten all day. Eat this, then sign the new papers. After that, we’re done.” Weakly, I took the bowl. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my medical chart on the bedside table. It clearly read: stomach bleeding and hypoglycemia. My hand shook, and the hot oatmeal spilled all over the blanket. I closed my eyes, breathing heavily. The cold air in the hospital room made me shiver. Ethan scoffed in disgust. “What are you acting weak for? You think this will stop the divorce?” “Ethan… I really didn’t cheat. There is no one else. Only you!” To my explanation, he simply threw a new set of papers at me. “Now the condo and the three million are off the table. You’re leaving with nothing. If you’re not happy, we can take this to court.” “Ethan, I helped build that company too!” I yelled, my eyes red. “Are you kidding me? You’ve been a housewife for years. The shares are all in my name.” With that, he shoved a pen into my hand. “Sign it. Don’t make me say it again.” Enduring the sharp pain in my stomach, I looked at the photos. In the pictures, I was acting intimately with a man I didn’t even recognize. There were even photos of us kissing. We were wearing five different outfits, implying we had met five times. Olivia walked in from the hallway, her voice soft and sweet. “Chloe, I didn’t want to show these to Ethan. I wanted to save you some dignity.” “But since you refused to sign, I’ll just have to post them online.” **Chapter 4** My heart squeezed painfully. I grabbed Ethan’s hand, trying to explain. “Listen to me, I don’t even know this man!” “I don’t want to hear it.” He cut me off, looking completely annoyed. “You don’t have to sign. We can go straight to court. It’ll just take a bit more time, but the result will be the same.” The pain in my stomach grew worse, and my heart ached in sync. After a couple of seconds of silence, I spoke in a raspy voice. “Fine. I don’t want to drag this out either.” Once he got the signed papers, he tossed a card onto the bed. “The three million is gone, but there’s thirty thousand dollars on this card. It should last you a while.” How pathetic. Ten years of youth and devotion. His net worth was in the billions, and I was worth thirty thousand dollars. He took Olivia’s hand and walked out of the room. Tears blurred my vision as I called out quietly behind him, “Ethan, you better not regret this.” He paused slightly and said, “I hope you and your lover are happy too.” After they left, I sat alone on the hospital bed, looking at the photos, a cold smile forming on my lips. I didn’t know the man in the photos at all. These photos were definitely photoshopped. Since she dared to frame me, she could wait for a court summons. I gathered all the evidence and filed a lawsuit that very afternoon. The next day, right after I was discharged from the hospital, Ethan’s calls started flooding in. “Chloe, have you lost your mind?!” “Olivia just got a court summons! She just started working, can’t you have some consideration for her?” The phone was quickly snatched away, and Olivia’s whimpering voice came through. “Chloe, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have hired someone to take those photos and expose your affair.” “I’m apologizing to you. Let’s both take a step back. Can you please drop the charges?” Before I could speak, Ethan ordered coldly, “Olivia just caught you with that man. Is it really worth suing her? Come to the cafe across from the office right now. We need to talk.” “I can’t. I just got discharged. I’m not in the mood.” He scoffed. “Not in the mood? Because of your new guy? Did he dump you already?” I just smiled and didn’t answer. “You should actually read what’s on that court summons first.” “Tell Olivia she’s going to pay for what she did.”

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