Category: English

Chapter 1: The Detective in the Dark My best friend, Sarah, always told me: “Layla, never let a man know you have money on the first date. It attracts the sharks.” I was good at following that rule. I drove a beat-up Honda to first dates instead of my G-Wagon. I wore Zara instead of Chanel. I played the part of the struggling graphic designer, hiding the fact that I was the sole heiress to the Vance Media empire. But logic left the building the night I met Damien. It happened at an immersive “Murder Mystery” dinner party in a converted warehouse in Downtown Los Angeles. The theme was 1920s Noir. I drew the card for “The Black Widow,” a femme fatale suspect. I was terrible at it. “You’re shaking,” a voice whispered in the dark. I was currently locked in the “interrogation room”—a closet-sized space with flickering bulbs—waiting for my turn. The man standing next to me was playing the Detective. I looked up, and my breath hitched. Even in the dim light, he was devastating. Sharp jawline, messy dark hair that fell over his eyes, and a scent that was a mix of rain and expensive sandalwood. He leaned in close, invading my personal space in a way that should have been creepy but felt electric. “I’m not the killer,” I stammered, forgetting my lines. “I know,” he said, his voice low and gritty. He stepped closer. I could hear the rustle of his dress shirt. “But the script says I have to interrogate you. Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” I’ll protect you. It was a cheesy line from a roleplay game, but the way he said it—with such quiet intensity—made my heart hammer against my ribs. When the lights came up for the final reveal, I got a better look at him. He was tall, leaning against the wall with the grace of a panther. But then, the illusion cracked. I looked at his shoes. They were cheap, scuffed faux-leather loafers. His dress shirt was frayed at the cuffs. He didn’t have a watch. He’s broke, I thought, a strange pang of sympathy mixing with my attraction. He’s beautiful, talented, and struggling. During the voting round, I accidentally incriminated myself because I was too busy staring at his hands. The other players laughed. “The Widow is cracking!” Damien stepped in. “Wait,” he commanded the room. “The evidence points elsewhere.” He systematically dismantled the arguments against me, spinning a wild theory that shifted the blame to the Butler. He saved me. After the game, I found him outside the warehouse. It was pouring rain—a rare, torrential L.A. downpour. He was standing by the bus stop, no umbrella, soaking wet. My “don’t show money” rule evaporated. “Hey,” I pulled my car up to the curb. “You’re going to drown out here. Need a lift?” He hesitated, looking at my car, then at his wet clothes. “I’ll ruin your upholstery.” “It’s just a car. Get in.” He hopped in. “I’m Damien.” “Layla.” “Thanks, Layla. You saved me. I don’t usually do these things, but… well, a gig is a gig.” “You were working?” I asked. “Yeah. I’m an actor. Or a musician. Or a waiter. Depends on the day of the week,” he gave a self-deprecating smile that made my knees weak. “Tonight, I was a detective.” I drove him to his apartment in North Hollywood. It was a dingy complex with peeling paint. Before he got out, he turned to me. “You know,” he said softly. “You were the worst murderer I’ve ever seen.” “Thanks,” I laughed. “But you were the best part of my night.” He didn’t ask for my number. He just smiled, a sad, longing smile, and ran through the rain to his door. I sat in my car for ten minutes, wondering why I felt like I had just lost something important. Chapter 2: The Wedding and the Promise I didn’t see him for a week. I tried to focus on work, on my portfolio, on anything other than the memory of his sandalwood scent. Then, my phone buzzed. It was the organizer of the Murder Mystery events. “Hey Layla! We’re running a new script this Saturday. ‘The Royal Wedding Gone Wrong’. We’re short one female player. Interested?” I typed back: “Is the Detective guy going to be there?” “Damien? Yeah, he’s playing the Groom.” I was there. I spent three hours getting ready. I told myself it wasn’t for him. I told myself I just liked the game. But when I walked into the venue, wearing a vintage lace dress, my heart was racing. The setting was a mock cathedral. I was assigned the role of the Bride. And Damien… Damien was the Groom. When he saw me, his eyes widened. He broke character for a split second, a genuine smile flashing across his face. “Hi,” he mouthed. We sat across from each other. He poured me water, fixed my napkin, treated me with a tenderness that felt dangerously real. The plot was chaotic. There was a poisoned chalice, a secret lover, and a murder. Halfway through the game, the script called for a dramatic confrontation. The “Secret Lover” character (played by a guy named Mike) stood up and shouted, “She doesn’t love you! She loves me! Run away with me, Layla!” Damien stood up. He looked at Mike, then turned to me. He took my hands. “This man claims to know your heart,” Damien said, improvising his lines. “But from the moment you walked in—late, flustered, apologizing with those dimples—I knew you were the only one for me.” The room went quiet. This wasn’t in the script booklets. “I promised to protect you last time,” Damien continued, his thumb brushing my knuckles. “And I meant it. I don’t care about the script. I choose you.” The other players “ooh-ed” and “ahh-ed.” My face burned. He lifted my veil and looked at me with such raw vulnerability that I forgot we were playing a game. After the session, it was raining again. “I’ll drive you,” I said immediately. “I can’t let you keep saving me,” he murmured, but he followed me to the car. This time, I took him to my place. My real place. A sprawling condo in the Hills. He looked around, wide-eyed. “You live here alone?” he asked. “Yeah.” “It’s… big. And cold.” “I’ll turn up the heat.” He was soaked again. I gave him a towel. He dried his hair, his shirt clinging to his chest. “Layla,” he said, standing in my living room. “Why are you terrified of me?” “I’m not.” “You are. Every time I get close, you flinch. Like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.” “I’m just… not used to this,” I admitted. “To whatever this is.” “I like you,” he said. “For real. Not the game.” “You don’t even know me.” “I want to.” He stayed that night. We didn’t sleep together. He slept in the guest room. But before he left the next morning, he kissed my forehead. And then, he ghosted me.

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The day before our engagement, my boyfriend suddenly regained his memories. I found out he was an undercover cop before his amnesia. And he had a childhood sweetheart fiancée. She found me, crying her eyes out: “If he had returned safely from that mission, we would have been married.” “Please, give him back to me…” I was silent for a long time, then whispered: “Okay.” I accepted a company transfer and moved to another city. Three years later, I was held hostage at knifepoint on the street. He saved me. As I tried to sneak away, he handcuffed my wrist. His voice was stern: “Planning to leave without saying goodbye again?” 1 Evening. Torrential rain. A sharp dagger pressed against my neck, bringing a damp, sticky pain. Behind me, the vicious criminal shouted: “Don’t move, or I’ll kill you!” That’s how I met Julian again. He was wearing a crisp uniform, side-facing me, talking to his colleagues. Rainwater streamed down his jawline, making his expression even more solemn. A moment later, he started negotiating with the criminal holding me hostage: “What are your demands? Name them.” The criminal’s face was twisted, voice distorted: “I want a wife! You guys give me a wife to bear me a son!” Obviously impossible. The rain poured harder. Negotiators switched rounds. Someone must have said something wrong. The criminal suddenly snapped. He gripped the knife handle tight, screaming: “Since I can’t have a wife, taking a pretty woman to die with me isn’t a loss!” The sharp blade cut into my skin. Severe pain mixed with the fear of death instantly filled my heart. The next second, bang. A bullet tore through the dense rain, hitting the criminal’s forehead. When Julian lowered his gun and strode over to me. I was already clutching my neck wound, swaying as I stood up from the ground. Due to blood loss, my vision went black in waves. I stumbled forward two steps. And fainted into Julian’s arms. I woke up in the hospital. My neck wound was bandaged, the pain still sharp. Julian stood by the bed, his hair soaked from the rain, still dripping water. I rasped: “The little girl I swapped with…” “She’s fine. Her mother protected her well.” Julian stared at me deeply. “The man had a knife. Even if you wanted to save someone, you shouldn’t have risked yourself.” I curled my lips, but the smile vanished quickly as it pulled at the wound. “Sorry. But protecting the weak is human nature. You taught me that, Officer Zhou.” 2 This hostage situation had nothing to do with me. I was just walking home from work and saw the little girl with a knife at her throat, the criminal kissing her hair and shoulders randomly. She was crying in terror. I suddenly remembered Julian. Three years ago, before we broke up. He saved a little boy and got his back smashed by a falling billboard, needing six stitches. In the hospital, I was anxious to the point of tears, poking his forehead and scolding him: “Next time you save someone, can you ensure your own safety first?!” He sat under the light, looking up at me. Lips pale from blood loss. But when he smiled, there was light in his eyes: “Protecting the weak is human nature.” Selfish me was suddenly choked up. Couldn’t say a word. He held my hand, looking into my eyes seriously: “But hurting myself and making you worry is my fault.” “I’m sorry, Sarah.” How much we loved each other then. How messy the breakup was later. Because a few months later, his childhood sweetheart, Chloe, suddenly showed up. I learned Julian was an undercover cop. Exposed during a mission, tortured nearly to death, he managed to escape. But severe injuries caused amnesia. “While he was with you for two years, I was looking for him.” Chloe wept before me, “Please, give him back to me…” She showed me many things. Photos, gifts, rings. Her past with Julian, twenty years of intimacy. So, I ran away. 3 On the day of discharge, Julian and a young cop picked me up. He sat in the back with me, expression solemn. I covered the gauze on my neck, trying to lighten the mood: “People might think I committed a crime, leaving the hospital in a police car.” Julian kept a straight face, tone flat: “No, just going to give a statement.” The young cop took my joke seriously and quickly comforted me: “How could that be, Miss Shen? You risked your life to save someone; the bureau is discussing giving you a bravery award!” “Just an award, no reward?” I smirked. “Like rewarding me with a young, handsome cop as a boyfriend?” In the rearview mirror, the young cop’s ears turned red. He stammered: “Well, we…” Before he could finish, Julian interrupted. He said coldly: “Focus on driving, don’t get distracted.” “Yes, Captain Zhou.” I lowered my eyes and stopped talking. It was noon when the statement was done. Julian went out to handle a sudden case. I was enthusiastically escorted to the door by others, about to leave. Ran straight into a very familiar face. Chloe. She wore a white cheongsam, dressed gently, holding a lunch box. Her quiet smile vanished the moment she saw me. Others greeted her: “Miss Ning, here to bring lunch to Captain Zhou again?” “Captain Zhou is so lucky. Unlike us, coming back late from missions to cold food.” “Is the wedding coming soon?” She lowered her head, seemingly shy: “Getting married soon. We’ll send invitations then.” A fog of emotion rose in my heart. I pursed my lips and walked out quickly. Chloe chased after me. “Sarah Shen.” She blocked my way, looking unhappy: “You promised to return Julian to me.” “Going back on your word now because he became the captain?” “Didn’t go back on it.” I said indifferently, “Wishing you and Julian a happy marriage.” She smiled with satisfaction: “Thanks.” 4 On the way back, the taxi stopped at a red light. I looked out the window. A girl fell, and her boyfriend picked her up, hugging her tightly. Tears fell without warning. Just one drop, and I wiped it away. I suddenly thought of when I knew Julian for seven months. He rejected my confession for the third time, saying he lost his memory, identity unknown, couldn’t give me happiness. But he still accompanied me home to pack. Halfway through, my stepfather came back. Drunk, pouncing on me cursing like many times before. I tried to kick him away but was choked and slapped. Julian, fixing the wardrobe in the inner room, heard the noise and strode out. Grabbed my stepfather’s collar, dragged him off me, and punched him hard. I lay on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Vision blurred, couldn’t even see Julian’s face clearly. “Sarah.” He called me, “Sarah Shen!” I curled my lips: “Ten years, first time someone saved me, Julian.” His expression was indescribably sad as he picked me up from the floor and walked out. “Don’t look back, don’t look.” He covered my eyes. “No need to come back to dangerous places. I’ll handle it for you.” “Sarah Shen, I accept your confession.”

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The night before my SATs. Mom was in the kitchen, cooking my favorite dinner. My sister, six months pregnant, sat on the couch helping me pack, nagging me for the hundredth time not to forget my admission ticket. I smiled, about to say “okay.” Suddenly, a line of bullet comments (danmu) floated across my vision. The text read: [Is this the family that gets brutally murdered right before the SATs?] [Such a pity. If this girl didn’t die, she had a shot at Harvard.] [The sister is the most tragic. Not only dismembered, but the baby was cut out of her belly and thrown into the sewer.] A chill ran down my spine. They said… my whole family dies tonight? 1 Knock knock knock. Before I could process the meaning of the floating text, someone knocked on the door. “Who is it?” my sister asked casually. “Delivery.” “We didn’t order any takeout,” my sister said, puzzled. “Wrong address?” “No, Unit 401, for Ms. Rosie.” Rosie. That’s me. My sister gave me a playful glare. “Ordering takeout right before dinner? You little glutton.” “But since your big exam is tomorrow, I’ll let it slide.” She stood up to open the door. As she moved, the text in front of me scrolled frantically. [Don’t open it! That’s not a delivery guy, it’s a psycho killer!] [Seriously, don’t you know if you ordered food? Why just open the door for anyone?] [This is why characters in horror novels die. zero survival instincts.] Cold sweat drenched my back. I grabbed my sister’s arm. “Wait! Don’t open it!” She looked back, confused. “What’s wrong?” I pointed at the door, whispering, “Sis, something’s wrong. I never ordered anything.” My sister looked through the peephole, then recoiled. “He’s not wearing a uniform. He really looks suspicious.” My sweat poured. The comments were real. There was a murderer outside. As if sensing our hesitation, the person outside pulled a wet, dirty uniform from his bag. “Please open up, I have another order to deliver. I really am a delivery driver. I fell into a puddle and got my uniform dirty, so I took it off.” “But we didn’t order anything,” my sister said through the door. “It was ordered for you. The note says: ‘Good luck on the SATs, Princess Rosie.’” My sister relaxed instantly. She smiled at me. “Mystery solved. Your brother-in-law ordered it. Princess Rosie, do your best tomorrow.” She reached for the lock again. “Princess Rosie.” Only my brother-in-law called me that. But the comments made me hesitate. I stopped her again. “Leave it at the door. We’ll get it later.” The person outside didn’t move. “It’s marked as a valuable item. Must be signed for in person. Please hurry, I’m late for my next delivery.” My sister laughed. “Valuable? Definitely from your brother-in-law. He said he’d get you something good after the exam. You little worrywart, open the door.” She reached for the lock. The comments screamed at us to run. The “delivery guy” kept urging us. My mind was a mess. Maybe he’s legit. But what if? Looking at my pregnant sister and my mom in the kitchen, I couldn’t risk it. I stopped her again. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a cleaver. Ignoring their confused looks, I stood by the door and opened it. I later learned this decision was the start of a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. 2 The moment the door opened, he kicked the knife out of my hand. Before I could react, another man hiding behind him swung an axe into my head. To make sure I didn’t run, he smashed my lower back with a hammer. My sister screamed and tried to save me, but he grabbed her hair and dragged her inside. Mom rushed out with a knife but was stabbed through the heart with a machete. Pain and blood consumed me. In my last moments, I saw the comments again. [Poor girl tried so hard, but still died.] [Yeah, and because she stalled, the killer tortured her sister even worse. The baby was ground into meat paste.] [Sigh. This family is cursed.] 3 I opened my eyes. The pain and smell of blood were gone. I was standing in the living room, safe and sound. The smell of fried pork filled the air. My sister was on the couch, nagging me about my admission ticket. The text floated before me again. [Is this the family that gets dismembered before the SATs?] [If not for those killers, this girl could have gone to Harvard.] [The sister had it worst. Baby cut out and destroyed.] Tears filled my eyes. I hugged my sister tight. “Why are you so clingy all of a sudden? Nervous about tomorrow?” “Don’t worry. I took time off work to be with you.” I couldn’t hold back the tears. My sister is the best. Since Dad died, it’s just been the three of us. Life was hard, but we had each other. But such good people were brutally murdered. Knock knock knock. “Who is it?” I stopped her. “Shh. My classmate’s dad is the police chief. He said two killers are posing as delivery drivers in our neighborhood. Don’t open the door for strangers.” My sister looked surprised but stayed silent. She picked up a baseball bat. “Don’t be scared, Rosie. I’ll protect you.” Mom came out with a knife. “Mom will protect you too. No one hurts my girls.” Their trust moved me to tears, but I had no time to cry. I locked the door and called 911. “There are killers outside our door.” The police said they’d be there in 10 minutes. I relaxed slightly. We just need to hold the door. But the comments scrolled faster. [Smart girl, keeping the door locked.] [But she doesn’t know there’s already an accomplice hiding inside the house.] [No matter what she does, the ending is the same.] Cold sweat returned. An accomplice inside? Where? Squeak. A faint sound from the corner. A man stepped out of the large wardrobe. He smiled psychotically. “Smart. Knowing not to open the door.” “But useless.” He swung a machete at Mom. Blood filled my vision. I grabbed Mom’s dropped knife and charged him. But before I reached him, a gunshot rang out. He had a gun. I fell, dead. My sister screamed, raising the bat, but the door was axed open. The intruder struck her back, then her belly. The baby, the intestines… dragged out. We died again. Brutally. 4 Dad died when I was in elementary school. Mom raised us selling fruit. She refused to remarry, fearing a stepfather wouldn’t treat us well. Rain or shine, she worked her stall. She put my sister through college. Now it was my turn. I was top of my class. Teachers said I was Ivy League material. Mom said once I got into college, she could finally rest. We planned a trip to Yunnan after my sister gave birth. Mom had never left the city. We were finally growing up. We could finally take care of her. But why? Even reborn, I couldn’t save them. I closed my eyes in despair. Opened them again. Back in the living room. 5 Fried pork smell. Sister nagging. I stared at the door, desperate. Two killers outside. One with a gun inside. We three women couldn’t win. My sister noticed my silence. “Rosie, nervous? Don’t worry. I’m with you.” Comments: [Here we go again. The massacred family.] [Poor girl.] I clenched my fists, brain racing. We can’t fight them. I looked at the balcony. Our balcony was connected to the neighbor’s by a narrow gap. Only a small person could fit. I was skinny enough. The neighbor’s sons were a gym coach and a PE teacher. If I could get their help… I texted the police. Then I typed a note on my phone and showed my sister. [Don’t speak. There’s a killer hiding in the house. Two more are coming to the door.] [Stall the people at the door. Do not open it.] [I’m going next door for help.] We didn’t alert Mom to avoid startling the gunman in the wardrobe. When the knocking started, I was on the balcony. I looked at my sister one last time and squeezed through the gap. Comments: [Smart girl. Going for help.] [But useless. Horror novels always have casualties.] [They can’t escape.] I ignored them. I will change fate. But the neighbor’s balcony door was locked. No one was home. I had to find help. I looked down. Fourth floor. I gritted my teeth and jumped onto the AC unit below. Layer by layer, I climbed down. I ran toward the complex exit, screaming for help. A van sped toward me. Bang. I lay on the ground, bleeding out. A short, fat man got out of the van, yelling into his phone. “How are you guys working? Someone jumped from the balcony! Idiots, finish the job!” Upstairs, my sister screamed. I closed my eyes. Four killers. The comments were right. We can’t escape.

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I was scrolling through a gossip thread after work when I saw it: [Do Childhood Sweethearts Really Stand a Chance Against a Sudden, Dazzling Arrival?] One highly-rated comment stood out: [Of course not. I stole my husband right out from under his so-called ‘childhood sweetheart.’] [Five years ago, my husband was a charming, polite college student, and his girlfriend was totally unsuited for him.] [So I played the cool girl. I worked my way into his life as his ‘guy friend,’ and then, under the guise of being his best buddy, I started chipping away at their relationship.] [It didn’t take long for them to start fighting. He invited me out for a drink to vent, and I showed up in a killer little black dress and the highest heels I owned. His eyes were glued to me.] [The night we got together, his little girlfriend was probably waiting for him to come home to take her to her prenatal appointment.] The accompanying picture showed a father holding an infant, meticulously giving a bottle. Though his face was obscured, I recognized the man immediately. The jagged, distinct scar tracing his forearm gave him away. It was Dean, my childhood sweetheart, Xu Xiangyi. I was stunned to see a post about him, completely unmoored in time and context, after so many years. I skimmed the comments—a nasty mix of praise and condemnation—then quit the thread and tossed my phone onto the passenger seat. I started the car, but before I could pull away, Harper leaned over from the passenger side. “Sierra, babe, someone named Dean called you.” “I answered it for you.” 1 “Wait—” Just as I grabbed the phone back, a familiar voice drifted from the speaker. “Happy Anniversary, honey.” My first instinct was to slam the End Call button, but Harper snatched the phone away again. She wore a “spill the tea, you dog” expression, mouthing silently: “Fess up. Since when?” I pressed the brake, pulling over. I was about to explain that the man on the other end already had a wife when a different, female voice cut in. “Oh my God, it’s the necklace I’ve been wanting! Thank you, honey!” “Also, babe, the results from the check-up came back today. The doctor says the baby is perfectly healthy.” Dean murmured, “That’s great. And the toddler? What’s my big boy doing? Why are you playing with Daddy’s phone—” The closeness of his voice stopped dead. For a moment, the only sound on either side of the line was the faint static of the connection. Finally, a faint whisper emerged. “Sierra?” That one word was a cold shock. I snatched the phone back, didn’t give him a chance to speak again, and instantly hit Hang Up. After all, I had once told him I’d rather die than ever speak to him again. The car eased back into traffic, but the atmosphere inside remained thick with unspoken tension. Harper broke the silence first, clearing her throat with a forced laugh. “Oops, must have been a pocket dial.” Then, attempting to lighten the mood, she rambled, “Speaking of, I saw some trashy viral post today. This woman was saying she stole her husband from his little childhood sweetheart.” “People will post any absurd, dramatic fantasy for clicks these days…” “That post wasn’t fiction. That was life.” I gripped the steering wheel, managing a calm, chilling smile as I glanced at Harper’s astonished face. “Because I was the stupid little childhood sweetheart whose boyfriend was stolen.” 2 Dean’s parents and mine were inseparable, practically family. Dean and I, we’d shared a crib. We were the literal definition of childhood sweethearts. Growing up, Dean was quiet, reserved, and almost painfully awkward. Mr. and Mrs. Reed often sighed, calling him their little ‘stone statue.’ In school, his honest, submissive nature made him an easy target for bullies. Luckily, I was the resident wild child—a terror in pigtails. If Dean got cornered, I’d rally my sisterhood and we’d go to war. The kids we beat up would stick out their chins and shout: “Look at him! A boy who needs a girl to protect him! Shame!” I’d immediately grab a rock and hurl it at them. “Say that again, and I’ll pull down your shorts and parade you through the quad!” I was always furious on his behalf, but Dean would just tug on my sleeve and press a piece of candy into my palm. I’d chew the candy, exasperated. “Dean, don’t be such a doormat. Your parents are worried sick. Can you try to be a man?” He’d just offer a gentle smile and ask if I had enough candy. I’d grab his ear and twist it in pure frustration. It’s fair to say that I protected Dean through our entire childhood and adolescence. He was always that sweet, mild-mannered boy. No matter how many times I drilled him on standing up for himself, he’d only smile and say: “I’ll just focus on being your strongest backup, Sierra.” Eventually, I gave up trying to change him. I even stepped in to defend him when Mr. and Mrs. Reed would scold him. It was half-serious, half-teasing, when Dean’s parents would say: “Oh, Dean. What on earth will you do without Sierra?” Dean would look at me with earnest, serious eyes. “Do we have to be apart? I want to be with Sierra forever.” I’d just laugh, flexing my small arm. “Don’t worry, Mr. and Mrs. Reed! I’ll take care of Dean! As long as I have a meal, he’ll have the best seat at the table!” It was just child talk, but Dean never forgot those words. The day he finally confessed, he clung to me, his voice thick with emotion. “Sierra, you promised you’d take care of me. Don’t ever leave me, okay?” “Be with me, please?” I thought then that Dean was the most hopelessly stubborn boy I knew. He was fiercely devoted, stuck to his convictions, and once he made a decision, he followed it to the end. That’s how he was when he confessed to me. And that’s how he was the day I caught him, fiercely defending Tatum. “You’re kidding me?!” Harper shrieked. She pointed at the phone. “So, the Tatum you mentioned… she’s the… the one who posted the thread?” “Yes,” I said simply. “The woman who posted the thread.” Harper buried her face in her hands, tugging at her hair. “Why? You had two decades of history! Does a childhood bond really lose to a sudden, dazzling arrival?” I didn’t have an answer for that then, and I don’t really have one now. Looking back, the root cause of our implosion wasn’t even about love. It was about trust. How darkly ironic. Two people who had lived in each other’s shadows since birth, closer than siblings, ended up tearing each other apart over a fundamental lack of faith. Dean and Tatum’s meeting was completely ordinary. They were in the same university class, grouped together for a project. I first met her when Dean came to deliver me my first pumpkin spice latte of the season. I was ecstatic when I walked downstairs, but the first thing I saw was Tatum’s arm slung casually over Dean’s shoulder, their heads close together. When she saw me, Tatum whistled and called out in a loud, carefree voice: “Hey, sis-in-law!” My gut clenched. I saw a flash of sharp, competitive light in her eyes—the exact kind I’d seen a thousand times in the girls who’d tried to compete with me for Dean’s attention growing up. I realized instantly that she saw me as a rival. I warned Dean about her—repeatedly. I told him Tatum wasn’t as innocent as she seemed. I even said she was clearly flirting with him. But Dean would simply maintain his gentle smile and reassure me: “Sierra, you’re overthinking this. Tatum has high standards. She would never be interested in me.” His complete dismissal of my warning. The slight, almost imperceptible leap in his voice when he mentioned her name. And the hint of genuine disappointment in that phrase, “She would never be interested in me.” Every detail made my skin crawl. Our fights began, escalating quickly. But this time, Dean—the one who always came back tearfully begging for reconciliation—chose silence. He chose the cold war. 3 For three days, I felt like I was sitting on shattered glass. At dinner, distracted and sick to my stomach, I dropped and broke my spoon. When I leaned down to pick up the pieces, the world went black, and I collapsed. When I woke up, the doctor told me I was pregnant. In a daze, completely overwhelmed, I immediately called Dean. Half an hour later, he burst through the hospital room door, breathless. Mrs. Reed followed him, happily taking my mother’s hand and telling her not to worry, that I was now part of their family. From that day on, Dean was a shadow. He was meticulous in caring for me, catering to my every mood swing during those difficult first weeks. But slowly, his course load became “too demanding.” The group projects piled up. He started coming home later and later. Until the day of my first solo prenatal check-up, when Dean never showed up at all. I used every trick I knew to get Tatum’s address. The door wasn’t locked. As I pushed it open, the sound hit me first: the low, unmistakable sound of entangled breaths coming from the back room. The tension that had been building inside me for weeks, combined with the crushing sickness of early pregnancy, finally snapped. I grabbed the fruit knife from the kitchen table and ran into the bedroom like a lunatic. I was screaming, swinging the knife wildly, unleashing all the resentment and pain that had been building inside me. There was a muffled cry of pain. Dean had thrown himself in front of Tatum, and my desperate swipe had sliced a long, ugly wound across his forearm. Blood welled up instantly and streamed down his arm. But Dean didn’t look at his wound; his eyes were fixed on me. He finally roared at me. “Sierra! Have you lost your mind?!” In twenty-three years, that was the first time Dean had ever stood his ground with such force. The first time he had ever displayed such overwhelming certainty and protectiveness. And it was all for the woman he loved. It was a version of him I had never seen before. Every movement, every fierce look in his eyes—it was all for Tatum. We were done. Completely and irrevocably. He moved back to the university dorms. I turned around and terminated the pregnancy. When Mrs. Reed found out, she ordered Dean to come home and beg for my forgiveness. Dean’s eyes were fixed on my stomach, and he didn’t say a word. But I wasn’t the kind of girl to just walk away in silent defeat. I spread the pictures of Dean’s affair all over the university. I compiled a damning presentation and uploaded it online. I stood outside the student dorms with a megaphone and broadcast their secret relationship to everyone. I wasn’t a fragile, heartbroken little girl who would simply vanish after being wronged. I intended to make Dean understand the cost of crossing me. If I wasn’t going to be okay, neither were they. But within days, my own private photos—intimate shots Dean and I had taken—were leaked. They spread with a force that completely overshadowed the news of Dean’s infidelity. The scandal raged for two weeks, until the university board cited me for “disrupting the campus environment” and suspended me. Dean, the star student, faced no disciplinary action whatsoever. My mother, heartbroken, officially withdrew me from school. She said we would move to a new city and start over. On the day we moved, Mr. and Mrs. Reed came to the house, burdened with shame and apologies. Dean stood outside the door, where my father had forbidden him to cross the threshold. Just before getting into the car, I walked over to him. I had to know. I desperately needed to know why. Why had we ended up like this? Why the betrayal? Why the cruelty? Dean was silent for a long time, and then he said words I would never, ever forget. 4 He said: “Sierra, you are consumed by jealousy. You are selfish and self-centered. You only ever think about yourself. To you, I was just an appendage.” “You used me to advertise your success, to prove how charming you were.” “Tatum is different. She supports me, she understands me, and she knows what I truly want.” I stared at him, and my first instinct was to burst into a sharp, hysterical laugh. So, for twenty-three years, that was what he really thought of me. In that instant, a strange calmness washed over me. The pain, the crushing resentment, the humiliation—it all seemed to vanish. I nodded, smiling coldly. “Fine. If that’s the case, let’s agree to never cross paths again. It saves us the trouble of being disgusted by each other.” Dean frowned, hesitation crossing his face. “We’re only breaking up. But we still have all those years of history. If you ever need my help…” I cut him off, a wave of pure revulsion washing over me. “Don’t worry.” “I’d rather die than ever speak to you again.” With that, I turned my back, got into the car, and drove away from the place where I had suffered so deeply. … When I finished the story, the car was silent for a long time. Harper maintained her expression of sheer shock for three full minutes before saying numbly: “I thought guys this messed up only existed in bad fiction… I can’t believe he’s real.” After another long pause, she asked, her voice laced with confusion, “So, why do you still have his number? A guy like that—keeping his contact is like keeping a copy of your own criminal record!” I gave a casual shrug. “That was his secondary account. I forgot to delete it when I nuked everything else.” The car pulled up smoothly to my condo building. Harper clung to my arm as we walked. “We are ordering the best food tonight. That story made me physically ill. I need my Sierra-made butter tarts to recover…” We both stopped dead, mid-sentence. A solitary figure was standing right outside my door. He must have been there for a while; a thick dusting of snow covered the shoulders of his coat. He turned at the sound of our voices. It was Dean.

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When I found out the Prom Queen had made a bet to ruin my brother’s chances at college, I made a choice. I hugged my little piggy bank tight and went to find the town’s most notorious villain—a guy whose family had just gone bankrupt. “If you can protect my brother,” I told him, “I’ll give you my entire allowance. All of it.” Later, when the Prom Queen brought my brother breakfast, the villain spiked it with laxatives. When she asked my brother to a midnight movie, the villain crouched by the wall and unleashed a rabid dog to chase them… And right before the biggest exam of their lives, when the Prom Queen faked an illness to lure my brother away… The villain pinned him against the wall and threatened, “If you don’t get into an Ivy League, your sister belongs to me!” My brother: “Wait, what??” Chapter 1 In the morning, I stood at the school gates, clutching my piggy bank and craning my neck like a turtle, waiting for Shane. He was the tyrant of Northwood High. And in my dreams, he was the ultimate villain. Last night, I had a vision. I dreamed that because my brother, Ethan, got involved with the school’s golden girl, Chloe, his grades tanked. He even got his right hand broken in a fight defending her honor. On the day of the SATs, he chose to skip the test to save Chloe from a “kidnapping.” But in reality? It was all just a bet Chloe made with her friends to see if she could ruin him. The guy she actually liked was Jared. Jared was the son of my dad’s new wife, Jolene. Chloe’s goal was just to make Jared jealous, and to help him by removing my brother—his biggest academic rival—from the scoreboard. In the dream, after graduation, Chloe and Jared got into Stanford together. They became the internet’s favorite scholar couple. And my brother? He failed. People said his past grades were cheated. They called him a homewrecker who tried to get between Chloe and Jared. My dad kicked him out of the house. We only found out later, when the police called. He had slit his wrists in a bathtub. Jared inherited my family’s entire fortune. And me? One day, Jolene took me shopping and “accidentally” left me on the side of the highway. I was hit by a truck. I was only five years old. But in that dream, I also saw Shane. His family used to be the biggest real estate developers in the state. Three months ago, they went bankrupt. His dad jumped off a building, and his mom had a mental breakdown and was hospitalized. From then on, Shane became dark and violent. Fighting became his daily routine. But three years after graduation? He became a Wall Street shark, a financial predator who went toe-to-toe with Jared’s company and nearly drove him into the ground. He was the only monster scary enough to save us. “Hey, shortstack. You’re blocking the road.” A cold, deep voice dropped from above. I looked up into a pair of pitch-black eyes. Shane was half a head taller than my brother. His black school blazer was unbuttoned, showing a white tee underneath. There was a fresh cut near his left eye, probably from a fight. “Big brother,” I gulped. “Can I pay you money to protect someone?” He looked terrifying. Shane raised an eyebrow at me. “Kid, go find a cop if you want protection. I don’t do murder and arson.” He reached out and flicked my piggy bank. The guys around him burst out laughing. My face burned hot instantly. I stammered, “No… no. I want to ask you to help my brother.” Shane shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at me. “Who’s your brother?” “Ethan. Ethan Xu from Class 2. They say… they say you run this school! Please, I’m begging you, save my brother.” “He went out last night and didn’t come back. He won’t answer his phone.” I started to sob. Last night, I overheard my brother’s phone call. Chloe asked him to a bar for her birthday. In my past life, she rigged a game of Truth or Dare there, forced him to choose Dare, and he ended up locked in an abandoned factory all night, missing his mock exams the next day. I wasn’t sure if Shane would help. The only time Ethan and Shane ever crossed paths was on a rainy night two months ago. Shane had been beaten up in an alley. When Ethan and I walked by, we called 911. Ethan even put his jacket over Shane while we waited for the ambulance. Hearing the name “Ethan,” Shane paused. He reached out, took my piggy bank, and roughly wiped the tears off my face with his thumb. Chapter 2 “Even the Boy Scout gets into trouble, huh?” “Consider this the down payment.” I froze, stunned that he agreed so quickly. Shane pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kyle, track Ethan’s location. Yeah, the Valedictorian, Ethan.” When he hung up, I grabbed his sleeve. “Can I go too?” He glanced at me. “You get carsick?” “No!” I answered way too fast, terrified he’d change his mind. Shane raised an eyebrow, then suddenly bent down and scooped me up like a sack of potatoes, tucked me under his arm, and marched toward a black motorcycle by the curb. I barely got the helmet on before the engine roared and we shot forward. He drove like a maniac. He ran three red lights and weaved through traffic like he had a death wish. My stomach started to churn. My vision went black around the edges. When the bike slammed to a halt, my breakfast surged up to my throat. The inside of the helmet filled with the sour smell of fermentation. Oh no. I was gonna hurl. “Shortstack, if you dare puke in my helmet, you’re dead!” Shane’s voice yelled. He ripped the helmet off my head just in time. The world suddenly got bright. I swallowed the vomit back down—hard—and stood there with tears and snot smearing my face. He lifted me off the bike like a wet kitten, looking disgusted, and shoved a bottle of water into my hands. “Rinse.” I was so dizzy I just chugged half the bottle. He stared at me, eyes wide, like he was looking at a ghost. I felt awkward. Was that not right? Shane parked the bike and frowned at the factory ahead. “Why would a straight-A student run off to a dump like this?” His crew pulled up on their bikes behind us. “Yo, is this place haunted?” Kyle asked, shivering. Shane walked in front, glaring back at him. “Shut up.” “But Boss, this place is slated for demo. I saw the ‘Demolition’ sign on the wall. Kid, what’s your brother doing here? If he gets buried alive, we won’t find the body for years.” My hand shook, and I almost dropped the piggy bank. My voice trembled. “My brother is scared of ghosts. Do you think a ghost ate him?” The gang members behind us gasped and exchanged terrified looks. Shane scoffed. He reached out and ruffled my hair. “If a ghost ate him, I’d make it spit him out.” His words made me feel weirdly safe. We searched room by room until we found him in the furthest workshop. My brother was sitting on a wooden chair, back to us. His hands were tied behind him with rope, and he was trying to saw through it using the sharp edge of the chair. “Ethan!” I couldn’t help but scream. My brother whipped his head around. His eyes went round when he saw us. “Lily? What are you doing here?” His expression wasn’t just surprised; it was embarrassed. Shane raised a brow and signaled the guys behind him. Two of them stepped up and cut the ropes. I rushed forward and hugged him, tears streaming down my face. “You didn’t come home! I was so worried! I thought bad guys took you!” Ethan’s face stiffened. He patted my back. “I… I just went to celebrate Chloe’s birthday. I lost a game. They were going to come untie me in half an hour.” Shane let out a cold laugh. “This place is in the middle of nowhere. It takes thirty minutes just to drive here from the city. You think she’s coming? I saw her eating breakfast with Jared.” Ethan’s face instantly turned pale. Chapter 3 “Impossible,” Ethan whispered. “She said it was just a game punishment.” “Heh. You got played, nerd,” Shane deadpanned. I was angry. I couldn’t imagine how scared my brother must have been alone here all night. “Wait… what time is it? I have to get back for the exam!” Ethan suddenly remembered the test. He looked at Shane. “Can I borrow your phone to call home? I’ll ask our driver, Mr. Lee, to pick up Lily.” Shane raised an eyebrow and tilted his chin at Kyle. “Kyle, you take Ethan back to school on your bike.” Ethan blinked. “Aren’t you guys taking the exam?” Kyle grinned. “I could throw the test on the ground and stomp on it, and it’d still score higher than me. My dad’s donating a building so I can get into college anyway! And Shane? He’s not going. We got a rumble with the Northside High crew.” Shane shot him a glare. Kyle shut his mouth. Watching my brother disappear on the back of the motorcycle, panic seized me. Go home? But home had Jolene. And the big dog. My heart started hammering, my breath coming in short gasps. Shane straddled his bike, ready to lift me on. I twisted my body, dodging his hands. “Shortstack? You want to stay here and wait for the ghosts?” He looked at me, confused. “I… I don’t want to go home,” I whispered, my voice as small as a mosquito. “Why?” Why? Because Jolene’s pitbull loved to bare its teeth at me. Because whether I did something wrong or not, if Jolene was in a mood, she’d lock me in the cage. She wouldn’t let me use the bathroom. If I peed myself, she’d laugh at me loud enough for the neighbors to hear, then tell Dad I did it on purpose to cause trouble. “Dad’s new wife doesn’t like me. She keeps a big dog, and she bought a big cage,” my voice choked up. “When Dad and Ethan aren’t home, she puts me in the cage and leaves the dog outside it.” “She said I can’t tell Ethan or Dad, or she’ll drown me.” Ethan lived in the dorms and only came home on weekends. Once, Jolene beat me until my backside was bruised. I tried to tell Ethan, but she put laxatives in his food so he was too sick to listen. Jolene threatened me: if I didn’t shut up, next time it would be rat poison. My dad was busy. Jolene never let him be alone with me. The one time I went into his study to find him, he wasn’t there. When he came back, he found his computer soaked with water and files torn up. The maid said only I had been in there. I stood in the corner all night as punishment. Shane’s expression turned terrifying. “What the hell? What century is this? Evil stepmother? Is your dad dead?” “No,” I answered blankly. “Is there a difference?” he muttered. He scooped me up with one arm, put the helmet on me, and his movements were a lot gentler this time. “Hold on tight,” he ordered. “Where are we going?” I yelled over the wind. “My place.” Twenty minutes later, we pulled into a run-down apartment complex. Shane carried me inside. When the door opened, an old man with white hair was watching TV. He looked surprised. “Master Shane? Aren’t you at school? Why are you back so early?” Master Shane? But wasn’t Shane’s family broke? “Old Joe, this is a classmate’s sister. She’s crashing here. Her brother… saved my life once.” Shane seemed to respect this old man. He briefly explained my situation. When he mentioned the dog cage, Old Joe’s face filled with shock and horror. “What a sin! Little girl, don’t be afraid. No one dares bully you here at Grandpa Joe’s.” Chapter 4 Old Joe shook his head and sighed, then immediately shooed Shane out the door. “Master Shane, go take your exam! Hurry, or you’ll be late!” “Remember, don’t hand in a blank paper! And don’t forget to write your name!” Shane covered his ears, looking annoyed. “I know, I know.” After the door closed, Old Joe showed me around. Even though the family was bankrupt, the three-bedroom apartment was warm and cozy. He made me lunch and gave me a pile of snacks. Old Joe rambled on about Shane’s childhood. He said Shane was actually a soft-hearted kid, just bad at showing it. In the evening, Shane came back. Trailing behind him was a depressed-looking Ethan. “Ethan! Why are you here?” I jumped up in surprise, but froze when I saw his face. Ethan slumped onto the sofa, eyes dead. “I got caught cheating.” My eyes widened. “Impossible! Your grades are perfect. Why would you cheat?” Shane threw his bag on the sofa and smirked. “He didn’t cheat. I did.” Old Joe and I looked at him, confused. Turns out, during the test, the guy sitting in front of Ethan threw a paper ball back. Before Ethan could react, Shane, sitting next to him, snatched it. The proctor demanded they hand it over. Shane shoved the paper into his mouth and swallowed it whole right in front of everyone. “Teacher told me to write a self-reflection essay due Monday,” Shane said nonchalantly. Then he raised an eyebrow at Ethan. “That note was from your goddess, Chloe.” Ethan looked incredulous. “H-how do you know it was Chloe?” “Because I saw her pass it to the guy in front of you,” Shane sneered. “Don’t tell me it was a love letter. Who passes love letters during a midterm?” “Want me to vomit it up so you can see if it’s a poem or the answer key?” “She… maybe she just…” Ethan stammered. “Maybe what? Maybe she suddenly realized our Valedictorian is handsome and fell in love?” Shane’s shoulders relaxed. “Last time it rained, I forgot my umbrella. She lent me hers. I see her feeding stray cats on campus. Maybe you misunderstood her. She’s kind.” Shane scoffed. “That makes her kind? Ethan, did studying rot your brain?” He gave Ethan a meaningful look. “Stay away from her. Or you’ll be sold for spare parts and you’ll be the one counting the money for them.” “I know,” Ethan whispered. He looked so defeated it made my chest tight. I knew Ethan wouldn’t actually stay away. He was too soft. If someone showed him even a tiny bit of kindness, he would return it a thousand times over, even if they didn’t deserve it. Outside, the sky was completely dark. Ethan suddenly stood up. “Lily, I’ll take you home. Dad is back from his business trip tonight. We can’t keep bothering Shane.” My body went stiff. “I don’t want to go!” “If you put half the effort you put into Chloe into your sister, maybe you’d have noticed she was being abused,” Shane said, his voice icy. “Lily was abused?” Ethan looked stunned. Old Joe explained what Jolene did to me. Ethan stumbled back, eyes full of shock and guilt. “I’m going back to ask! If she really did that to Lily… I won’t let her get away with it!”

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I was the “It Girl”—the white moonlight—for the heirs of the city’s top four dynasties before I went abroad. They were supposed to be waiting for my return, fighting over who got to put a ring on my finger. But the moment I stepped off the plane, rows of floating text—like a glitched Twitch chat—scrolled across my vision: 【LMAO. The side character actually thinks those trust fund babies are still gonna simp for her?】 【She has no idea. While she was gone, they found a dupe—a poor girl who looks just like her. But joke’s on them, they all caught feelings for the substitute!】 【Now the evil ex is gonna try to bully the heroine, the guys will see her true colors, bankrupted her family, and leave her in the gutter.】 【And then? It’s happily ever after for our女主 (Female Lead) and her harem! Spicy scenes incoming!】 I watched with my own eyes as they left my welcome-back party early, one by one, rushing off to comfort another girl. So, I decided to ghost them all. 1 I pieced together the current situation in Sea City from the floating comments. Six months ago, they met the heroine, Lily, working as a waitress at a high-end club. Poor, pure, tough but fragile, and bearing a striking resemblance to me. She caught their attention instantly. For the past six months, these guys had been circling Lily, fighting and scheming over her, just like they used to do with me. They even had a group chat. It used to be called [Waiting for Serena’s Return]. Now, the topic was exclusively the new girl. I came back without telling anyone. When they found out, they scrambled to throw a welcome dinner. I wore a custom emerald silk dress, watching them walk in with gifts. The four princes of Sea City. Different personalities, but all cut from the same cloth: young, handsome, polished, and expensive. Money really is the best skincare. “Serena…” “Sis…” Different greetings, but all of them were polite. Too polite. Well-behaved. The chat scrolled past my eyes: 【They used to stick to her like glue. Now they’re keeping their distance.】 【They literally said in the group chat they don’t want Lily to get jealous, so they gotta stay away from the evil ex!】 【Yesss! I live for this double standard!】 I was skeptical at first, but seeing their distant attitudes, I realized the comments were telling the truth. 2 Not even halfway through the meal, Leo—usually the wild, impulsive one—kept checking his phone. The others followed suit, whispering among themselves. Leo’s anxiety was written all over his face. I excused myself to the restroom. As soon as I got there, the text floated by: 【OMG! The heroine is working the night shift and they’re worried she’s gonna get harassed by that creep from last time! They can’t sit still!】 【They’re planning their escape! Pure love wins!】 【Tsk tsk, the side character is pathetic. But hey, that’s what happens when you’re just a plot device.】 I returned to the private room. “Serena, my dad just texted. Family emergency. Gotta bounce,” Leo said, standing up with zero hesitation. “I have something to take care of, too,” Silas, the gloomy, isolated one, said coldly as he stood up. Ford, the CEO type, buttoned his jacket calmly. “You guys drank. I’ll drive you.” Just like that, three of them left. Fast. Like they were escaping a fire. I looked at Felix, who was still sitting there, elegantly cutting his steak. “You’re not going?” He smirked, looking up at me. “Someone has to stay and take you home.” Felix. The fox. The hardest one to read. 【LOL. Does she think Felix stayed because he cares?】 【Too bad, sis. All four of them are obsessed with the new girl.】 【He’s just staying to do damage control. They don’t want the evil ex to find out and target the heroine yet.】 【They literally drew straws in the group chat. Felix lost, so he had to stay. The other three owe him big time. Haha!】 【Kind Substitute defeats Evil White Moonlight. This plot slaps!】 3 Felix drove me back to my penthouse. At the door, I turned to him. “Thanks. You should head back.” Felix smiled, leaning against the frame. “Not gonna invite me in for water, sister?” I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d be in a rush to leave.” His smile deepened, his eyes searching mine. “Why would you think that? Do you know something?” Tsk. Always the sharpest one. I poured him water. He sat down, his eyes scanning my figure. “You look good in that dress.” “Thanks.” I sat on the opposite sofa, leaning back lazily. Felix swirled the glass in his hand. “You don’t believe Leo’s excuse, do you? Aren’t you curious where they really went?” I glanced at him. “Are you trying to tell me something?” He put down the glass and moved to sit next to me, leaning in close, his voice low. “Do you want to know?” 【AHHH! Why is Felix so close to her? Is he gonna cheat on the heroine mentally?!】 【Relax. This is a harem novel. The ex is just a stepping stone. They all have a transition period. They’ll struggle, but eventually, the heroine’s purity wins. Then they trample the ex. That’s the satisfaction!】 I scooted away. “Forget it. It’s late. You should go.” Felix looked at me, a bitter smile touching his lips. “You really don’t care about us at all, do you?” I shrugged. “It’s your business. I have no right to pry.” His phone rang. He answered it on speaker, right in front of me. “Felix, did you drop Serena off yet?” Leo’s voice boomed from the phone. “Yeah,” Felix replied casually. “Thank god we got here in time. Lily almost got harassed again. We took her out to get her mind off it. She asked if you were coming. Hmph, you’re always the quiet one, but she asks about you the most. Stop playing hard to get, it’s working too well.” Leo sounded jealous. Felix looked up at me. Seeing my indifferent expression, his eyes darkened slightly. “Sure. I’m coming.” Before he left, he turned at the door. “Three years abroad. Now that we aren’t revolving around you anymore… do you feel a sense of loss?” I smiled. “Everyone is independent. You guys weren’t with me for those three years anyway.” 4 I met the legendary heroine, Lily, sooner than I expected. It was at a birthday party for the Chen family heiress. I had just returned, so the invites were piling up. We were in a VIP suite at a high-end club. Lily walked in wearing a server’s uniform, carrying a tray of drinks. “Hey, isn’t that the girl the four princes are fighting over? Still working as a waitress?” “She said she wants to earn money with her own two hands. Refused to be a canary in a gilded cage.” “Tsk, that attitude is exactly why the guys like her.” “Look at her eyes. She really does look like Serena. But Serena is back now, and the guys seem… indifferent? Is the copy replacing the original?” “Serena is old news. Too high maintenance. This girl is true love.” The whispers weren’t quiet. In this circle, people love to watch a queen fall. I looked at Lily calmly. She stood out among the staff—fresh-faced, delicate. Then, the drama started. As Lily brought drinks to my table, she stumbled over nothing. The tray tipped, and champagne splashed toward me. I dodged quickly, but some of it still hit the hem of my dress. “Ah! Miss Su! I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault…” She dropped to the floor in a panic, grabbing napkins, trying to wipe my skirt while practically bowing. I was about to step back and tell her it was fine, but a voice roared across the room. “Serena! Don’t you dare bully Lily!” Leo stormed over, glaring at me. He pulled Lily up and shielded her behind his back. “Serena, just because you’re a rich heiress doesn’t mean you can humiliate a working girl! Is this what you learned abroad? Disrespect?” The room went silent. People looked at me with scorn—the abandoned ex being petty. 【OMG! Possessive protective boyfriend mode ACTIVATED!】 【The ex is starting her villain arc! The guys are gonna hate her now!】 “Leo, stop, don’t be like that. It was my clumsiness. Miss Su has every right to be mad,” Lily said, voice trembling, acting the saint. It only added fuel to the fire. “Serena, I didn’t think you’d become this petty—” “Leo!” I cut him off, my voice cold. “I haven’t said a single word from start to finish. Are you hallucinating, or are you just looking for a fight?” Leo froze, his mouth hanging open. The sudden shift in my demeanor stunned him. 5 “Miss Su, it’s all my mistake. You can scold me all you want, but please don’t be mad at Leo. He’s just worried about me.” Lily played the victim card again, looking ready to cry. My opinion of her shifted. I thought she was a naive white lotus, but this? This was low-tier manipulation. “Serena, Lily isn’t like you. She wasn’t born into money. She works hard for her life. Just because we treat her well doesn’t mean you can target her and try to get her fired,” Leo insisted stubbornly. I pressed my lips together. “I was born rich because I won the genetic lottery, just like you were born lucky enough to stand here and bark at me without consequences.” “But I don’t owe anyone anything. My morals don’t allow for your blind accusations. From the moment she spilled the drink, I haven’t uttered a syllable. You jumped to conclusions and pinned a crime on me. That is your mistake.” “If I wanted to make a scene about the dress, that is my right as a customer. If I choose not to, that is my generosity. Neither has anything to do with who you like. Nobody gets to slander me. Do you understand?” He blinked, a flash of panic crossing his eyes as he looked at me. 【Wait… the evil ex is kinda making sense? She literally didn’t say anything before Leo started yelling.】 【Who cares about logic? She wanted to bully her. Leo just stopped it preemptively. Just because the female lead has a strong backer doesn’t make the ex innocent!】 【Exactly! Look how pitiful Lily looks. Serena is so hateful!】 I rolled my eyes at the broken moral compass of the chat. The birthday girl, Chloe, stepped in laughing. “Okay, okay, everyone cool off. It’s my birthday, give me some face.” Leo dragged Lily away. At the door, Ford and Silas were waiting. They swept their gaze over me, cold and distant, then left with Leo and Lily. Later that night, I had my driver drop me off by the lake near my complex. I needed to walk off the alcohol. That’s when I saw Silas sitting alone by the water, looking like a depressed statue. 【Poor Silas. Lily likes Leo the most right now. He can only sulk by the lake.】 【Silas has been paranoid and gloomy since childhood. He’s not gonna jump, is he?】 【If he hadn’t met the ex back in the day, he would have offed himself already. Now he’s over her, but he fell for the heroine, and he has to share her.】 【Depression arc incoming…】

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The system girl appeared in my boyfriend’s life. She meticulously orchestrated a damsel-in-distress scenario. On the route she knew my boyfriend, Cameron, frequently took, she arranged for two creeps with bad dye jobs to drag her into an alley. “Help! Please, somebody help me!” She screamed and struggled, desperately calling out in Cameron’s direction. The guys walking with Cameron Walker immediately rushed in, one by one. But Cameron, my boyfriend, held my hand and stayed put. He didn’t move an inch. 1 “Aren’t you going to help?” I looked at Cameron, feeling a mix of nervousness and confusion. After all, in the dream I’d had last night, he was the first one to charge in. But right now, he was staring into the dim alleyway and simply shook his head. His expression was so calm it bordered on cold: “I don’t think so.” The scene from my dream had turned into reality, yet Cameron’s reaction was completely different. My mind was a mess. I was about to say more when I saw the two creeps throw the girl aside and curse as they ran deeper into the alley. Cameron’s friends and the girl emerged. Under the faint yellow glow of the streetlights, I finally got a clear look at her face. I froze. Stunned. She looked exactly like the system girl from my dream! Tears streamed down her delicate face. When she looked at Cameron, the drops fell even faster. “Cam, thank you for sending your friends to save me.” Cameron tightened his grip on my hand, scanning her with a blank expression. “I didn’t. You’re thanking the wrong person.” The smile on her face instantly froze. She seemed completely blindsided by his bluntness. She saw my hand laced with Cameron’s and slightly frowned. Then, she bypassed me and thanked the others. They all waved it off carelessly. “No sweat, we were just passing by!” “Yeah, those trash bags, I’d take them down any time.” “Hey, are you the new art student? I think I saw you when I went to meet Amelia.” The one who spoke was Cameron’s friend, Liam Perry. Amelia was his girlfriend. The girl raised a hand to wipe her tears, her eyes red, and offered Liam a small smile. “Yes, I am. Thank you, I’m Savannah Monroe.” My heart plummeted again. Even the name was the same as the girl in my dream. Could this really just be a coincidence? Was the dream really just a dream? Scenes from the previous night kept flashing through my mind, and I couldn’t stop staring at Savannah. The wind swept her hair around her face. She tucked a stray strand behind her ear and spoke again. “It was so lucky you guys were there. “Could we exchange numbers? I’d like to treat you all to dinner sometime.” Exactly. Every step of the development was the same as the dream. But there was a difference, too. In the dream, Savannah only added Cameron’s contact info. Right now, I watched her unlock her phone and open the QR code. As she held it out, she hesitated for a brief second in front of Cameron. Then, she quickly moved it, holding the phone out to Liam. Liam eagerly scanned the code, hit ‘Add,’ and wiggled his phone at her. “Make sure you accept, Sav.” Savannah nodded and then offered her phone to the other guys, one by one. Only after everyone else was done did she look up at Cameron. She tried to appear composed. “Cam, you should add me too.” My heart leaped into my throat. In the dream, after they exchanged numbers, Savannah began her determined pursuit of Cameron. He went from polite refusal to genuine annoyance, and finally, to cold dismissal. Until our wedding day, when Savannah showed up to stop the ceremony. She said she would die without him. In the end, Cameron let her pull him away, running out of the venue right in front of all our guests. 2 The wind picked up, scraping harder against the street. I held my breath, waiting for Cameron’s reply. A moment passed. Cameron raised the hand that was tightly laced with mine, his voice glacial. “How do you have the audacity to ask for my number right in front of my girlfriend?” Savannah’s smile evaporated. She clearly hadn’t anticipated such a direct, humiliating rejection. She bit her lower lip in embarrassment, the hand holding the phone trembling, but she didn’t lower it. “Cam, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just…” Before Savannah could finish, Cameron’s gaze had already coldly passed over her. He turned to face me, his expression softening instantly. “Are you cold, Syd?” As he spoke, he reached out a hand and gently adjusted the scarf around my neck. I shook my head, gazing up at the man standing so close to me. Even though he was right there, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu, as if I was seeing him from a lifetime away. After fixing my scarf, Cameron tenderly ruffled my hair. “We’ve wasted too much time. You must be hungry, let’s go eat.” His cool, large hand took mine and pulled me forward. My feet followed him automatically. In a daze, I couldn’t tell the difference between the dream and reality anymore. We’d only walked two steps when the person beside me stopped again. He didn’t turn around, only tilted his head to call back to Liam and the others. “Are you guys coming or not?” The group finally snapped out of it, bustling to catch up. Only Savannah was left standing there. We had gone quite a distance, but I still felt a gaze boring into the back of my head. I turned around and met Savannah’s eyes directly. It was a look full of resentment, unwillingness, and suppressed fury. The next second, the look vanished. Savannah gave me a sweet, brittle smile. Looking at her beautiful, perfectly innocent face, I had to wonder if I had imagined the look moments before. Once we reached the restaurant, everyone gradually forgot the little scene, chatting and laughing. But Liam kept his head down, scrolling through his phone. He seemed to be looking at someone’s social media feed, occasionally zooming in on a picture, a soft smile playing on his lips. If I had to guess, it was Savannah’s feed. I thought of his girlfriend, Amelia. If she saw her boyfriend intensely scrutinizing another girl’s profile, looking so clearly smitten, her sensitive and reserved nature would probably be devastated. For some reason, I felt an intense empathy for her, as if her pain was my own. I was debating how to subtly bring it up when Cameron’s voice cut through the air first. “Liam, what are you looking at?” Liam quickly hit the lock button and looked up, smiling sheepishly. “Nothing, just casually scrolling.” Cameron’s eyes darkened, his face growing serious. “Don’t forget you have a girlfriend.” Liam paused, then gave an awkward chuckle. “I—I know, man. I just added her, so I was flipping through her feed to get an idea of who she is. No big deal.” I couldn’t help myself, the words tumbling out. “If you know you have a girlfriend, why did you add a random stranger?” In my peripheral vision, the hand Cameron was using to ladle soup suddenly gave a tiny, almost imperceptible tremor. 3 My question made Liam squirm. He shuffled his feet and stammered out a reply. “Syd… Look, the girl asked me herself. It would have been rude to refuse.” Listening to his weak excuse, I felt a surge of sympathy for Amelia. I frowned and began to speak. “Liam, no girl is going to be okay with her boyfriend…” Before I could finish, Liam interrupted me, embarrassed and annoyed. “Okay, okay, I get it. Just… don’t get involved, alright, Syd?” “Liam!” Cameron’s face hardened, his cold stare pinning his friend down. “What kind of attitude is that?” Sensing the displeasure in Cameron’s voice, Liam panicked. “Cam, I…” Cameron reached for my hand under the table, holding it tight. His thumb gently rubbed my palm in a soothing gesture. He looked directly at Liam, his gaze deep and sharp. “Sydney’s right. “You are not single. Maintaining clear boundaries with other women is basic respect for your girlfriend.” Liam’s face flushed red, then pale. He opened his mouth, stopped, and finally spoke, offering me an apology. “Syd, I’m sorry.” He then picked up his phone and, in front of Cameron, announced his actions. “I get it, Cam. Deleting her right now.” The others, sensing the tension, quickly tried to smooth things over. “Let’s just eat, guys. The food is getting cold.” Dinner ended quickly. Soon after, Cameron drove me home. I sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. The neon lights streaking past the long street felt like the quick, blurred slideshow of last night’s dream. Each scene was illusory, yet profoundly real. The physical and emotional exhaustion from the dream felt as if I had truly lived it. Without realizing it, the car pulled up in front of my house. Cameron got out, circled the car to open my door, and placed his hand above the frame to shield my head—the same thoughtful, gentle gesture as always. I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out. I said goodbye and took a step toward the door. Cameron reached out and caught my wrist. “Syd, wait a second.” “Hmm?” I stopped, following the pull of his hand. I turned back and was caught by his intense, deep-set eyes. After a moment, Cameron lifted his hand and cradled my cheek. His voice was cool, yet laced with gentle concern. “You’ve been acting strange all day. Is something bothering you?” I froze. He had noticed. Of course. Our families were old friends, and we’d been inseparable since childhood, over two decades. I could read the slightest difference in his expression. Naturally, he could tell something was off with my words and actions. I thought for a moment. Then, I looked up, meeting Cameron’s gaze directly. “Cameron, I had a dream last night.” 4 I recounted the dream’s events slowly, reliving them. The tears that felt so real, the profound, gut-wrenching pain—telling the story now felt like wading through a river of heartache. I stared blankly at Cameron, still bewildered. “Why did the system girl have the exact same look, the same name, as the one in my dream? “But why is your reaction completely different?” Before I could fully register Cameron’s expression, he pulled me into a fierce embrace. “Syd.” I felt something cool and wet land on the top of my head. Is it raining? I tried to pull away from Cameron’s chest, but he only held me tighter. After a long while, I heard his voice, muffled and tight, full of suppressed emotion. “Syd. “It was a dream, just a dream. “Dreams are often the opposite of reality. That’s why my reaction is different.” The winter night was sharp and cold. Nestled in Cameron’s warm embrace, I asked in a choked voice: “Really? “But I just feel like the dream was so real. It felt like I lived through it.” Cameron’s whole body tensed for a split second. I couldn’t see his face, but I felt the arms encircling me tighten further, as if he were trying to press me into his very being. “It is. Trust me. “In this lifetime, I will only ever love Sydney Pierce. I won’t be swayed by anyone.” Hearing the strong, steady beat of his heart against my ear, I still felt strangely uneasy. Promises made in youth are beautiful but uncertain. Like the moon reflected on the water. The gentle touch of fate’s hand can ripple the surface and shatter the silver into countless broken pieces. I went inside. After greeting my parents, I walked upstairs to my room. Pushing the door open, I automatically went to the window. Through the sheer white curtains, I looked down. Cameron’s car was still parked outside. He leaned against the car door. The black tailored wool coat made him look tall and elegant. The streetlight cast small, scattered bits of light on him. The night wind was biting. He stood there in the wind, hands buried in his coat pockets. Head bowed, lost in thought. My hand unconsciously clenched the curtains. I wondered when his promise would change. I slept restlessly that night. The next morning. My driver dropped me off at the university. As I stepped out of the car, I saw Savannah and Cameron standing together. 5 Savannah’s face was bright with a cheerful smile. She extended a delicate paper bag towards Cameron. “Cam. “I woke up early just to make you this sandwich.” As if to prove her point, she gestured to a nearby Liam. “Liam and the others have one too. You should try it.” Liam was nodding eagerly, chewing on a bite and showering her with compliments. “She’s not just pretty, Cam. She can cook too. “You have to try it, it’s really good!” Cameron’s hands remained buried in his coat pockets. He didn’t even glance down at the paper bag. He looked at Savannah with impatience, his voice cold and faintly annoyed. “No, thank you.” Savannah’s smile faltered. She pushed the bag forward, trying to force it. “Cam, it’s just a nice gesture…” “Move.” Cameron’s face darkened, his patience clearly gone. Savannah’s face went white, and her eyes welled up instantly. “Cam…” She seemed poised to say more, but Cameron walked around her, striding directly toward me. He had seen me the moment I stepped out of the car. Savannah hadn’t. She quickly rushed forward, extending her arms to bravely, yet cautiously, block his path. Students walking by slowed down, whispering amongst themselves. Savannah took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on Cameron. “Why won’t you take my sandwich, Cam? “Do you have a problem with me, or do you just… hate me?” Cameron’s eyes were devoid of warmth. He didn’t want to waste another word. “Yes.” The unambiguous, blunt answer made Savannah’s face burn crimson. The knuckles of the hand gripping the sandwich bag were white. The onlookers whispered and exchanged knowing looks, enjoying the drama. Tears gradually filled Savannah’s eyes. She bit her lip, stubbornly staring at Cameron and pressing the question. “Why? “What did I do to offend you, Cam? “I just wanted to thank you, so I made some sandwiches for breakfast. “It’s not just for you. I made some for Liam and the others too.” Cameron looked down at Savannah, his gaze sharp and indifferent. “Thank me for what?” Savannah froze, her brave facade faltering slightly. “Thank you for… for saving me.” Cameron’s voice was detached. “I told you yesterday, you’re thanking the wrong person.” Savannah’s extended arms trembled, but she still tried to explain. “You were there yesterday, so I included you. It didn’t take much extra time.” “Did it?” Cameron looked at her, his eyes piercing. “My girlfriend was there too. Why didn’t you make one for her?” Savannah instantly went rigid, her face turning ashen. She opened her mouth, trying to find an explanation. “I…” Cameron didn’t spare her another glance. He bypassed her completely and walked toward me. 6 The north wind howled. Withered leaves rustled down from the trees. Cameron walked against the wind and quickly reached me. Naturally, he pulled open his coat and wrapped me inside. “Waiting so long, are you cold?” His warm body heat wrapped around me, a comforting, continuous embrace. I should have felt happy and cherished. But for some reason, a tiny thread of bitterness unwound in my heart. “Cameron…” I murmured his name, my throat tightening. Hearing the tremor in my voice, Cameron quickly lowered his head to look at me. “What is it, Syd?” My tears broke loose, falling one after another. “You accepted it, in the dream, you accepted her breakfast…” Cameron’s body jerked. His voice was laced with panic. “Syd…” In his tone, there was a rare mix of nervousness and fear. He gently patted my back, trying to calm me down urgently and tenderly. “Syd, that was just a dream, only a dream. “Look, in reality, I didn’t take it at all, did I?” My vision was blurred by tears. I closed my eyes, wanting to nod, but unable to. I just felt like everything was unreal. Neither fully a dream nor fully awake. After a long time, I composed myself, and Cameron and I started walking toward the campus buildings. Savannah was still there, hunched on the ground, hugging herself. Her whimpering sobs were carried away by the wind. Liam was crouched beside her, comforting her with worried, pained urgency. In the back of my mind, I felt that something had changed. The days flowed by slowly. Savannah rarely appeared in front of us anymore. Occasionally, we’d run into her on campus. She would look at Cameron, and her eyes would fill with tears. Cameron would always look straight ahead, pulling me along and walking right past her. Until Cameron’s birthday, when a group of us were celebrating at a private club. Halfway through the party, Savannah showed up. When she walked in, Cameron was putting a peeled shrimp on my plate. Savannah’s gaze caught the gesture, and a look of sadness flashed across her face. Soon, she forced a smile and offered Cameron a beautifully wrapped gift box. “Happy Birthday, Cam.” It was obvious she had put effort into her appearance today. Her makeup was light, her face slightly pale without blush, lending her a fragile, heart-tugging appearance. She was wearing a white tailored wool coat, a style very similar to Cameron’s usual black one. It looked almost like a couple’s outfit. Cameron didn’t take Savannah’s gift box. He slowly raised his eyes to her. “How did you get in here?” The private club was members-only. Savannah couldn’t have gotten in on her own. “I used Liam’s membership card,” Savannah managed a smile, staring intently at Cameron. “I just… wanted to wish you a happy birthday in person.” 7 A tense silence fell over the private room. No one knew how to react. Savannah stood there, looking mournful and forlorn. Anyone would feel a pang of sympathy for her. Especially Liam. His girlfriend, Amelia, was sitting beside him, yet his eyes hadn’t left Savannah since she walked in. “Cam, I let her in. “She’s genuinely nice, man. It’s your birthday, just let her stay and celebrate with us.” I instinctively glanced at Amelia. She was biting her lip, staring blankly at Liam. For some reason, I felt a rising sense of dread. The scenes from my dream began flashing again. In the dream, Savannah also came to Cameron’s birthday. He had rejected her pursuit before, but he didn’t reject her presence. He had simply told her to sit wherever she liked, a complex emotion clouding his brow. But now. Cameron’s eyes held a blatant, undisguised look of annoyance and disgust toward Savannah. “I don’t need your blessing or your gift.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “I love my girlfriend deeply, and I will only ever love her. “So I hope you stop bothering me, and stop doing things that are frankly shameful.” Savannah’s face instantly flushed a deep red. The overhead crystal chandelier caught the glint of tears in her eyes. She quickly wiped a corner of her eye, choking up as she asked Cameron: “Not even as just a regular friend?” “I’m sorry,” Cameron’s voice was ice-cold. “I don’t need a friend like you.” Savannah couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. She covered her mouth with a hand and ran out of the room, sobbing. “Savannah!” Liam cried out, jumping up, desperate to chase after her. But Cameron grabbed his arm. “Liam, don’t get involved where you don’t belong.” To my surprise, Liam roughly shook off Cameron’s hand, looking upset. “I don’t know why you’re so cold-blooded! “I just don’t get it, she’s a perfectly decent girl, she hasn’t done anything out of line, but you’ve hated her since the day you met her!” Liam grew more agitated. “Humiliating her in front of everyone—does that satisfy your ego, Cameron?” Cameron’s eyes narrowed, clearly angered. But he still tried to be patient. “Liam. “I’m telling you this as a friend: don’t be led astray by a moment of fancy. “She is not as innocent and pure as she seems. “Besides—” He gestured to Amelia. “Your girlfriend is right here. Are you going to break her heart for a girl you barely know?” Liam finally looked at Amelia. Seeing her red-rimmed eyes, he impatiently ran a hand through his hair. “Mia, don’t think too much of it. I just can’t stand Cameron targeting a younger girl.” He looked toward the door, anxious to get to Savannah immediately. “Wait here, I’ll just go check on her and be right back!” With that, he ran out of the room. Amelia watched his urgent, retreating back, and tears began to fall. My heart ached for her, too. Maybe it was a kinship between women. Maybe it was because in my dream, I, too, had watched Cameron’s back disappear. I reached out and took Amelia’s hand, wanting to offer some comfort. Just then, a commotion erupted in the hallway outside. “Someone’s going to jump! Hurry, hurry!” Everyone in the room was startled. They immediately stood up and rushed out. A horrifying thought flashed through my mind. Could it be… Savannah? Amelia was also panicked. She gripped my hand. “Syd, we should go look.” 8 When we reached the club’s rooftop, we saw Savannah sitting on the waist-high ledge. Her frame was thin, and her hair was wind-whipped and messy. Her legs dangled in the air, looking as if she might fall at any moment. Liam stood pale-faced a short distance away from her. He held out a hand toward Savannah, his voice trembling with fear and anxiety. “Sav, don’t scare me. Please, just come over here, okay?” Savannah turned her head to look at him. Then, she saw Cameron in the crowd, and tears instantly streamed down her face. She gave a desolate smile. “Cam, do you worry about me too?” Cameron frowned, gripping my hand tightly, and remained silent. The onlookers watched the spectacle, whispering and pointing. Savannah ignored them, her eyes locked onto Cameron. Her face showed despair and utter recklessness. “Cam. “I love you. I love you so much, and it’s not just because of the task. “I approached you, got to know you, learned to make sandwiches to please you, manufactured chances to ‘run into’ you, and knitted a scarf to give you.” “But no matter what I did, you never once looked at me properly. My favorability rating is stuck at zero.” Tears dripped from the corners of her eyes. She looked like a broken doll. Liam clenched his fists, shouting in a pained, desperate voice. “Sav, get down first, then we can talk!” But Savannah didn’t seem to hear him. Her gaze remained fixed on Cameron. “Cam, why can’t you just look at me? Why can’t you like me, even just a little? “What do I lack that Sydney doesn’t have? Is it just because she met you first? “I’m the one who loves you the most. I came to this world for you. I’m the one who loves you the most in this entire world.” Savannah’s smile was heartbreakingly tragic. “Cam. “Did I ever tell you that the System assigned you as my target? “If I fail my task, I will die.” Tears still flowing, she repeated the line. “I will truly die without you.” I instantly froze. A thunderous boom went off in my head, like a sudden lightning strike. I remembered. I remembered everything. It wasn’t a dream after all. It wasn’t a dream. It was my previous life.

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I’d just been chewed out by my stone-cold boss and was practically dissolved in tears, so I quickly tapped open the chat for my online boyfriend. “Waaah, honey, that devil boss just trashed my proposal again.” The reply was almost instantaneous. “That miserable jerk! How dare he talk to my baby like that?” “Don’t worry, babe. Get some sleep tonight. I’ll fix this for you.” The next morning, I handed my boss the proposal my online boyfriend had stayed up all night rewriting. My boss stared at the document for a long time, his expression growing strangely complex. Even the sound of his voice carried a tremor I almost missed. “This proposal… you did this?” 1 As a recent college graduate—a grunt worker barely out of the intern pool—I’d practically bored a hole to the earth’s core trying to draft a half-decent proposal. The day before, in the meeting, my boss held up my work with disgust. “Do we really need this garbage cluttering the folder? Whose is this?” Graham Shaw was an Ivy League legacy, a trust-fund prodigy who’d returned from London with an MBA and a face that looked straight out of a GQ spread. He was brilliant, ruthless, and universally loathed. My friends told me I was lucky, getting paid to look at a face that belonged on a billboard. Only I knew how soul-crushing his perfectionism was. Hesitantly, I raised my hand. The next second, his sharp, glacial gaze was on me. “How were you hired with work like this? It seems the HR department has become quite the joke.” The whole room was watching. My cheeks burned hot, and all I wanted was for the floor to swallow me whole. Unsurprisingly, I was kept back. I stood. He sat. His brow was deeply furrowed as he tossed my proposal onto the floor. “Last chance. Produce trash like this again, and you can walk yourself down to HR.” I swallowed hard and bent to pick up the papers, not daring to meet his eyes. My own eyes were stinging and swollen, but I didn’t care. I kept my head down and stumbled out of his office. 2 I finally found an empty hallway corner where I could sob uncontrollably, then reflexively opened the messaging app to vent to my online boyfriend. “He made me cry again today.” The reason I was here, working, instead of finishing my Master’s, was because my mom had gotten terribly sick right after I secured my acceptance. Every penny we had went to her care. The money still wasn’t enough. On a friend’s suggestion, I started a niche account, doing faceless livestreams of me making custom macrame wall hangings. To my shock, people actually tipped. Then, my online boyfriend showed up, immediately became my Tier-S Patron, and dumped what added up to over eight hundred thousand dollars into my account. For a college graduate from a normal background, it was an astronomical, life-changing sum. I added him as a friend to thank him. “Midnight_Investor” was nothing like my boss. He was kind. He comforted me every time I was down. Soon, we were inseparable. He replied right away. “Hugs, baby. Your boss is clearly a toxic narcissist.” “He has no right to yell at our baby. I believe everything you do is the best.” “After all, you’re so talented with your hands. You make those gorgeous macrame pieces.” The more he comforted me, the more the raw emotion welled up. “But I really worked so hard on that proposal. I didn’t even sleep last night, and he still screamed at me.” He immediately sent a flurry of the kissing emojis I always used. “It’s okay, baby. You just graduated. It’s good to let the sadness out. Big things take time.” “Don’t be sad. I’ll fix the proposal for you tonight. You get some rest.” Looking at the gentle, thoughtful man on the screen, half my heart melted. I scrubbed at my raw, red eyes. “What good is crying?” The cold, icy voice made my whole body jump. I looked up to see my boss, Graham, meticulously wiping his hands, looking vaguely annoyed. “If you can’t seize the opportunity, if you rely on ‘taking your time’ for everything, you’ll end up like your proposal: thrown in the trash.” He tossed the hand-wiping napkin into a waste bin to emphasize his point. His cold eyes leveled on my still-red ones. “So, instead of crying here, get back to work.” 3 After Graham finally left, I was barely able to keep myself from collapsing in tears again. How could someone with a pulse say something so glacial? But this company was excellent. I’d fought tooth and nail to get this job. With Mom’s illness, I absolutely could not lose it. I dragged my exhausted body to my cubicle. Tessa, my least favorite colleague, was there, already launching into her passive-aggressive commentary. “I knew she couldn’t have been hired for her competence. Must’ve gotten in on looks, not brains. Figured.” I was too drained to even snap back. I sank heavily into my desk chair. Even though Midnight_Investor promised to fix it, I felt I needed to revise the document again. I had to lighten his load. He was an adult; he surely had his own life and responsibilities. I worked until closing, kept thinking about it on my commute, and finished the final revisions at home that night. Only then did I send my redrafted version to my online love. He seemed to be online 24/7. He received the file immediately. Half an hour later, he sent an encouraging message. “Is this your first draft, baby? It’s a bit rough around the edges, but for a first attempt, it’s really good.” I wanted to cry until I was dry. “That’s my Nth revision. Am I really that bad?” He was silent for a full minute, then sent a massive barrage of hug emojis. “No, not bad! You’ve made huge progress. All that matters is your effort, baby.” “Don’t pay any attention to whatever your boss says. He clearly doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s just a miserable jerk who takes his own frustrations out on you.” Watching him curse out my boss with a cascade of angry emojis calmed my nerves again. “Thank you, my sweet boyfriend! I’m going to get some real sleep tonight.” It was the best night’s sleep I’d had since starting the job. 4 My online love was incredibly reliable. When I woke up, there was a new document on my phone. Sent at 2:00 AM. The attached note: “Go get ’em, Wifey.” It was incredibly touching. My boss made me pull an all-nighter; I made my boyfriend pull one. I sent him a couple more kissing emojis, picked out an outfit, and headed to work. The moment I walked in, I heard Tessa’s loud, sneering voice. “Well, look who decided to show up, Gen Miller. Look at that face, that glow! Doesn’t look like she pulled an all-nighter, does it? Must’ve been sleeping with someone last night.” Tessa rolled her eyes, a look of malicious pleasure on her face. “Though, Mr. Shaw looks like he didn’t sleep well at all. He’s exhausted. Must have been up all night stewing over some people’s proposals.” I ignored her and headed to the printer to get the new file. But my silence only egged her on. “Off to generate more trash, Gen?” I gathered the printed sheets, ignored her completely, and walked toward Graham’s office. “Still too good for us? Watch out, you’re going to get yelled at and cry again!” 5 Graham genuinely looked like he hadn’t slept. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to be dragging toward his jawline. He rubbed his temples, his expression flat when he saw me. Graham Shaw was known for being utterly devoid of warmth; office lore claimed he was married only to his job and was possibly an emotionless robot. I carefully placed the proposal on his desk. He took it without expression and started reading. He looked up several times, his gaze fixed on me between reading the pages of the document. Finally, he read the last page. “Is this yours?” His voice, unbelievably, had a slight tremble.

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1 I was on a road trip to a remote mountainous region with my best friend, Jess. While driving, Jess suddenly said she saw someone waving at us from a distant hill. Thinking it was a hiker in need of help, we immediately stopped the car and ran towards the figure. But halfway there, Jess abruptly stopped. Confused, I looked at her, only to see her expression twist into sheer terror. I was about to ask what was wrong when she grabbed my hand and sprinted back towards the car. “Run!” she hissed, her voice frantic. “That’s not a human!” Having been friends with Jess for years, I knew she wasn’t joking. I didn’t ask a single question. I just turned and ran for my life, following her back to the car. “Start the car! Now!” Jess screamed as we scrambled inside. I jumped into the driver’s seat, jammed the key into the ignition, and fired up the engine. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the dark figure in the distance sprinting towards us. My heart skipped a beat. In the few seconds it took to start the car, the figure had closed a terrifying amount of distance. “Go! It’s catching up! Drive!” Jess yelled again. My hands were shaking, but I forced myself to focus. Seatbelt on. Gear shifted. I slammed on the gas, and the SUV shot forward like an arrow. I glanced in the rearview mirror. The massive dark figure was now only twenty or thirty yards away. I could feel its overwhelming malice radiating towards us. It chased us for what felt like an eternity before finally stopping. Jess and I didn’t dare relax. We kept our eyes glued to the mirrors, nerves stretched to the breaking point. The creature was covered in black fur, but it had a face that looked disturbingly human. It stared at our retreating car with a twisted expression, as if memorizing us… We drove at full speed for over half an hour. Only when we started seeing semi-trucks on the main highway did we finally let out a breath. Neither of us spoke first. We were both still shaken to the core. Another half hour passed in silence. We pulled into a gas station to refuel. Jess and I went to the restroom to wash our faces. “That… that was terrifying!” Jess stared at herself in the mirror, looking like she’d just escaped death. My limbs felt weak. The adrenaline crash was hitting me hard. I bought two bottles of Gatorade, parked the car to the side, and sat on the curb to drink. “Halfway there, I realized its proportions were wrong,” Jess said, taking small sips of her drink. Her eyes still held a flicker of fear. “And the way it waved… it was too stiff.” I recalled the creature’s silhouette and nodded thoughtfully. Jess was an art major. She had an eye for perspective and anatomy. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have noticed until we were twenty yards away. By then, it would have been too late. We had started running back when we were still over a hundred yards away. Yet it had closed the gap to twenty yards in seconds. Its speed was inhuman. A truck driver in his forties, who seemed to have overheard us, walked over. He frowned. “Ladies, did you run into a mimic bear?” Jess and I exchanged a look. “Mimic bear?” 2 The driver took a swig of water and pulled out his phone to show us a video. “Look. That’s a mimic bear.” “There have been a lot of videos online recently about these things attacking people.” “They say they stand almost ten feet tall and weigh nearly a thousand pounds. One bite can tear a grown man in half.” “And they’re smart. Scary smart. They can mimic human movements.” “A while back, a college student on a graduation trip was lured in by one pretending to signal for help.” “By the time he realized something was wrong, it was too late. He couldn’t outrun it.” As the driver spoke, a wave of relief washed over us. We were lucky. If we hadn’t realized it sooner… “Lily, let’s go. I don’t feel safe here,” Jess urged. I nodded vigorously. It was 2:25 PM. We said goodbye to the driver and hurried towards the nearest town. By evening, the weather had turned cool and overcast. With the windows down, the breeze helped clear the lingering fear in our minds. “Seriously, what are the odds?” Jess muttered. “We just wanted a nice trip, and we run into something like that.” She sounded annoyed, but her tone was much more relaxed. I sighed. “Yeah. If it weren’t for you, we’d probably be ghost stories by now.” Jess glared at me. “Don’t jinx us!” “Bang!” Before she could finish, a loud noise cut her off. The car started shaking violently. “What’s happening?” Jess panicked. I gripped the steering wheel tight and managed to bring the car to a stop. “I think we blew a tire,” I said, checking the dashboard. Sure enough, the rear right tire pressure warning was on. “Look, there’s a repair shop right there!” Jess pointed ahead. She scanned the surroundings nervously. No sign of the mimic bear. “Let’s go. We can’t waste time.” “It’s getting dark. It’s too dangerous to stay out here,” I agreed, driving the limping car to the shop. A skinny man sat at the entrance. Seeing us, he grinned. “Ladies, car trouble?” Jess and I exchanged a look. We both knew what this was. We’d read about scams like this—shops scattering nails on the road to puncture tires and charge exorbitant fees. But we were in the middle of nowhere, with no surveillance cameras. We had no choice. “How much for a patch?” I asked, suppressing my anger. “Five hundred bucks. Cash or card?” The man’s grin didn’t waver. “What? You—” Jess started to lunge forward, but I held her back. We couldn’t afford a confrontation here. We paid the money. “Do a good job,” I said coldly. The man pocketed the cash, beaming. “Of course! You’re VIP customers. I’ll fix it up real nice!” … Jess stomped off to scroll through her phone while I watched the man work. I checked the time. We should still make it to town before dark. Suddenly, Jess ran towards me, her face pale with terror. 3 My heart leaped into my throat. Jess shoved her phone in my face. She had been browsing local videos for food recommendations, but the top result was a police alert. [Truck Driver Mailed by Unidentified Creature!] My pupils constricted. If I wasn’t mistaken, the driver in the video was the same one we had met earlier. That red jacket… I was sure of it. Jess scrolled down to the comments. One comment read: [I drove past there around 2:30 PM. I think something happened to that guy!] Jess and I stared at each other in horror. 2:30 PM? That was five minutes after we left. “Is it another one, or the one we saw?” Jess whispered, her voice trembling. A chill ran down my spine. If it was another one, that was bad enough. But if it was the same one… “It’s following us?” I gasped, clutching my chest. “But why? It holds a grudge?” “We didn’t even do anything to it!” My voice shook with fear. “Who knows how a monster thinks?” Jess spat. I checked the time. 5:30 PM. We had driven three hours since leaving the gas station. Surely it couldn’t catch up that fast. “Once the car is fixed, we go straight to the police station in town,” I said grimly. The man finished the repair quickly. We sped towards the town. An hour later, we arrived and went straight to the police station. The officers listened to our story, their expressions growing serious. They promised to investigate and increase patrols. We found a motel to stay for the night. “Want to grab some food? We haven’t eaten all day,” I asked after we settled in. Jess waved a weak hand. “I’m too tired. I just want to sleep.” “Alright. Shower first, then sleep. We’ll eat a big breakfast tomorrow.” We washed up and collapsed into bed. We were asleep within minutes. I don’t know how much time passed. In my half-sleep, I heard heavy footsteps. Like something incredibly heavy walking on the floorboards. Thump, thump. Thump, thump… The sound got closer, then stopped. Knock, knock! Knock, knock! A knock on our door. Then, a wave of nauseating stench hit me. I snapped my eyes open, staring at the door in horror. 4 I froze, cold sweat soaking my back. The stench from outside grew stronger. It smelled like rotting meat, making my stomach churn. Jess woke up too, gripping my arm tightly. We looked at each other, mirroring the terror in our eyes. “Who is it?” I asked, my voice trembling. The knocking stopped. The silence felt suffocating. A few seconds later, a guttural sound came from the other side. Like a throat clogged with phlegm, or a beast trying to growl. Jess clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. I got up slowly, trying not to make a sound. I grabbed my phone and turned on the flashlight. As the beam cut through the darkness, I saw a pool of black slime seeping under the door, slowly spreading into the room. “What do we do?” Jess whimpered. I signaled her to be quiet and tiptoed to the window. We were on the second floor. Below was a narrow alley, about a ten-foot drop. I looked around for a weapon. Nothing. The knocking started again. This time, it was urgent, accompanied by heavy thuds. The door frame shook. We couldn’t wait any longer. I gestured to Jess to get ready to jump. As I reached for the window latch, a loud crack echoed from the door. Wood splintered. The door burst open. A massive dark figure filled the doorway. Over nine feet tall. Covered in matted, blood-stained black fur. A twisted human face, veins bulging, mouth split to the ears, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Its eyes glowed green, fixed on us. It was the same creature from the hill. Jess screamed and ran towards the bathroom. The mimic bear roared and swiped at me with a massive paw. I dodged instinctively. The claws grazed my shoulder, leaving five deep gashes in the wall. I stumbled into the bathroom, slamming the door. We pushed the heavy sink cabinet against it. “It’s going to break in!” Jess sobbed. I pulled out my phone. No signal. The bear roared and clawed at the door. Every thud felt like a hammer to my chest. I saw a small window in the bathroom. Big enough to squeeze through. “The window!” I yelled. We pushed it open. Below was the motel’s backyard, filled with junk. I climbed out first, hanging onto the ledge, signaling Jess to follow. As she leaned out, the bathroom door shattered. I grabbed her hand, but the bear caught her ankle. “Lily! Help me!” Jess screamed, her nails digging into my skin.

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During the reality show challenge with the A-list movie star, a rising newcomer actress and I were locked inside the same room. The Director announced the rules: the door would only open when the two people whose hearts truly beat as one joined hands. The person left behind would face an immediate career penalty and be forced out of the industry. As soon as I grasped the stakes, I grabbed the movie star’s hand and moved toward the door. After all, everyone in the industry knew we’d been together for ten years and had just recently married. The day we announced our wedding, the entire internet crashed, and our shipper fanbase was larger than some top-tier idols combined. But when I gripped his hand and tried the knob, the door didn’t budge. The moment I froze, his hand slipped from my palm. The lock clicked open. When I finally lifted my head, Rhys Maxwell and Willow Tate were standing in the open doorway, their fingers laced together. 1 In that instant, it wasn’t just me. The entire internet paused. On the live stream, captured by the real-time cameras, the comment section exploded: [WHAT IS HAPPENING?! The door that the A-List star and CEO Avery Stone—the ultimate power couple—couldn’t open, was opened by him and the newcomer?] [The Rhavery shippers are going to riot, Director! You are about to be completely canceled!] [Didn’t they say the door was connected to a heart-rate monitor? Does this mean Rhys and Willow’s hearts raced when they held hands?!] [Don’t be ridiculous! Senior Rhys was obviously just being kind! He didn’t want to bully a new actress with the show’s cruel challenge!] [Exactly! The production team paired ‘Rhavery’ with Willow for this mission just to eliminate her! Rhys clearly remembered his own humble beginnings and stepped in. Don’t be so sexual-minded, people!] I slowly looked at Rhys. The eyes that used to hold such gentle affection were now icy, tinged with a cold impatience at being caught. “Mrs. Stone, please don’t misunderstand!” Willow immediately snatched her hand away, her eyes wide with feigned fear. “Rhys and I were just acting, ma’am. He only didn’t want to see me eliminated in the very first round. Please, don’t think anything of it!” I raised an eyebrow and glanced at the heart-rate monitor beside the door. The machine, which had been as flat and dead as still water when Rhys and I touched, had spiked the moment his fingers intertwined with Willow’s. “To be able to fool a machine, your acting must be Oscar-worthy.” “I…” “Avery!” Rhys frowned, subtly shifting his body to block my direct view of Willow. “Willow is a new talent who debuted just last year. It would be a tragedy for her career to end over a game. I only wanted to do what was in my power, the way you helped me all those years ago.” So, he did remember. He remembered that it was I who went against the entire board to establish the talent division, signed him out of the crowd of forgotten extras, and then spent years molding him into the coveted multi-talented actor he was today. How could he dare? How could he publicly cheat on me with a new actress, right under my nose, with countless cameras rolling? “The rules state that the person left behind must accept the career penalty.” I looked up at Rhys. “You’re taking her with you? Did you stop to think about what would happen to me?” The red light of the camera blinked above my head, a silent, mocking eye. In the moment of Rhys’s silence, the comments boiled over again: [Wait! Avery Stone hasn’t been in a lot of movies, but she made her debut with Rhys on ‘Second Chance Skyline’ over a decade ago! Is the production team really going to play this hardball?] [What is wrong with Rhys? He’s ignoring his wife to help a rookie? And Willow, can you not read the room when the actual wife is standing right there?] [Leave Willow out of this! Blame the Director! The pairing was a disaster! Our Willow’s screen time is being stolen by ‘Rhavery’!] [Setting aside the drama, doesn’t anyone think the Rhavery vibe is off today? Could their marriage really be on the rocks?] “Avery.” Rhys sighed. “You have the Stone family behind you. Even if you retire as an actress, you’re still the CEO of Stone Entertainment! But Willow is different. She has nothing…” “So?” I cut him off. “You want me to retire?” Rhys pursed his lips. The darting of his eyes and his heavy silence answered for him. I let out a hollow laugh, pulled out my phone, logged into my social media, and posted a concise retirement statement. Rhys instantly relaxed. He reached out and touched my head, a patronizing gesture. “That’s my girl. You weren’t classically trained anyway. Opportunities should be given to the younger talent.” With that, he shot a glance at Willow and led her out the door. I signaled the cameraman to cut the feed, then called my assistant, Leo. “Call Director Kincaid. The male lead for his new A-List Tentpole, The Crest, needs to be replaced.” Leo’s voice hitched. “Mrs. Stone, did you and Rhys… have a fight?” “No,” I said. Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, I continued. “We’re getting a divorce.” 2 Leo inhaled sharply. “Ma’am… what about Director Kincaid’s film? Rhys was set as the lead. The penalty fees aside, Kincaid won’t find a replacement on such short notice!” A broadcast announcing ‘MIDSESSION BREAK’ played just as a young crew member sent by the production team approached to remove my mic pack. He had pale skin, sharp features, and a clean profile. As his fingers deftly worked to detach the equipment near my collarbone, I suddenly raised my hand and tilted his chin up. The coldness of my touch made him flinch, but his hands didn’t stop moving. He pressed the button on his headset. “Area B, Room 302. Please bring a cup of hot water for Mrs. Stone.” He was bold. And smart. “Do you want to act?” I asked him. When I walked out of the studio, Rhys was surrounded by a swarm of fans. I overheard something he said, followed by a boastful laugh. “Smooth sailing? Honey, I’ve been walking on water since my debut!” I couldn’t help but let out a small, quiet scoff. A group of shippers nearby heard me and immediately rushed over, full of concern. “Avery, did you and Rhys fight? You’re not really retiring over a stupid reality show, are you?” “Avery, I want to see you act again. We’ll miss you!” “Don’t worry!” Before I could speak, Rhys walked over and draped his arm possessively around my shoulder, pulling me close. “It’s all for the show. Avery and I are great.” The fans sighed in relief and pushed photos forward for signatures. As countless glossy prints were shoved toward me, one caught my eye: a duo shot from our first collaboration, Second Chance Skyline—my debut, and the film that launched his career. Back then, his star was too low, and no actress wanted to work with him, so I had to step in and finish the movie with him. It became the ultimate shippers’ artifact. Fans constantly brought this particular shot for us to sign. But this time, the space next to Rhys’s signature—where mine should have been—was instead scrawled with the name Willow Tate. “Mrs. Stone, please don’t misunderstand!” Willow had materialized at my side. She pointed to the signed photo in my hand. “This is my fault! I was standing next to Rhys talking to fans, and I wasn’t paying attention to the photo they handed me. I accidentally signed it…” Looking at her pitiful, tearful expression, I smiled. “Going blind so young. How are you ever going to navigate this business?” My voice wasn’t soft. The area instantly went silent. Even the surrounding fan chatter died down. “Avery Stone, it’s just a photo. Willow has apologized. Do you really have to be so cruel?” Rhys’s expression hardened. He yanked me aside and glared at the cameras sweeping around us, his voice seething with anger. “I know you have connections, but do you want the whole internet to see you bullying a junior actress with your influence?” I curled my lips into a chilling smile. “Am I cruel and using my influence, or are you two morally bankrupt?” “You!” Sensing the situation escalating, the Director rushed in to disperse the fans. Rhys quickly pulled me further away. “Alright, honey, my attitude was bad. I just didn’t want you to be negatively edited.” “Willow and I are truly just friends. You have to trust me! I know losing the game upset you, but I already talked to the Director about letting you finish this episode before retiring. Can we please drop this?” I didn’t engage. I just stood there, looking at him with a frightening calmness. “Rhys, do you still remember the first thing the female lead in Second Chance Skyline said when she discovered the male lead was cheating?” 3 Rhys’s expression froze, and a flicker of panic crossed his eyes. “That was years ago. Who remembers old lines?” Just then, the Director’s voice called for the next scene, and Rhys, visibly relieved, headed straight for the recording area without looking back. Watching him leave, I picked up my phone and called Leo again. “Find out how many projects and endorsements Rhys has left. Cancel all of them.” “The penalty fees are my problem.” Just like the line in the movie: Work, dreams, career… I’m going to take away everything you ever built, one step at a time. For the second round, we were all taken to a massive Ferris wheel. The challenge required us to split into two-person and one-person groups through a compatibility quiz. The two-person team would enter a gondola and have to kiss when it reached the apex. The remaining person would be locked in an isolation booth and would have to find the escape key by monitoring the couple’s kissing-cam and solving clues. The rules instantly sent the comment section into a frenzy: [This round was made for Rhavery! The Kiss at the Apex! The production team is brilliant!] [OMG, we get to see Mom and Dad make out! It’s Christmas for the shippers tonight!] [Point the camera right at them! I want the HD close-up!] In a corner where no one was paying attention, Willow tugged at Rhys’s sleeve, her voice pitiful. “Rhys, please, can you go easy on the quiz? I… I’m terrified of the dark. I can’t go into the isolation booth alone.” Rhys didn’t answer, but I could already see the hesitation in his eyes. The compatibility quiz began. Unsurprisingly, Rhys failed every question about me—my least favorite food, my alma mater, even the name of the dog we co-adopted. He knew nothing. After the first round, the Director looked more upset than I did. This was clearly derailing his plan to milk our “model couple” status for ratings. There was nothing for it but to let Rhys and Willow try the compatibility round next. What happened next shocked everyone. From major things like her astrological sign and career goals to minor details like the song she listened to last night, Rhys knew everything about Willow. The chime for correct answers rang repeatedly, yet the atmosphere in the room turned subtly corrosive. [Wait a minute… This isn’t right. He knows absolutely nothing about his wife, but he knows everything about Willow? How?] [Did Willow cheat and leak the answers? Doesn’t she think this is too obvious if she’s just trying to steal attention?] [Avery has looked miserable all day. Are they really having marital issues…] [Stop the conspiracy theories! It’s probably the show’s script, using Rhavery for clicks!] The final score was a foregone conclusion. Rhys and Willow won by a landslide, securing their spot as the only two to enter the kissing gondola. “Honey, don’t take it to heart.” In front of the camera, Rhys leaned in and closed the distance between our lips with a calculated kiss. In the brief moment our mouths touched, he stroked my hair, his voice sickeningly gentle. “It’s just a game. Think of it as us filming a scene up there. Be understanding, okay?” [OMG, kissing in front of the camera! I’m dying!] [Who said Rhavery was falling apart? It’s just a reality show script! People who believe the rumors are losers for life!] [Worried his wife will get jealous, he kisses her before getting on the Ferris wheel with another woman! Ahhh, this is the most beautiful love story!] 4 “No.” My refusal hit the floor with an audible thud. Rhys froze in place, and Willow immediately scampered over. “Mrs. Stone, please don’t misunderstand!” She clasped her hands tightly, her eyes instantly welling up. “Rhys and I are really just completing a task. I know I don’t deserve to compete with you, but the rules are the rules. I have no choice…” Her tragically vulnerable expression was precisely captured by the cameras, and a wave of comments flooded the screen, condemning me: [It’s just a game. Does Avery Stone really need to be such a diva? Look how scared she’s made poor Willow!] [What do you mean, ‘diva’? Would you want your husband kissing a strange woman on a Ferris wheel?] [Why is the person making three thousand dollars a month defending the person making thirty million? They get paid to take this kind of crap!] [Exactly! Our Willow is so pretty, the movie star isn’t losing anything!] Rhys, watching the scrolling comments, finally spoke. “Avery, stop being dramatic. Everyone is watching.” He paused, his eyes softening slightly in a manipulative plea. “Have you forgotten? You have a fear of heights. You wouldn’t be comfortable going up there anyway. Isn’t it better for Willow to go in your place?” I looked at Rhys. “I haven’t forgotten.” He was the one who had forgotten. After the accident on the set of Second Chance Skyline, I was trapped in an elevator for ten hours. The doctor later confirmed the severe claustrophobia that I had lived with ever since. Afterward, Rhys had held me, his voice choked with tears, and promised, “I will never leave you alone in the dark again!” He had forgotten. The moment Rhys turned to leave with Willow, the coldness in my heart spread all the way to my fingertips. I lunged forward and grabbed his wrist, discarding the last shred of composure I was maintaining for the cameras. “Rhys, I can’t be alone down here. I…” “Avery Stone!” He lost all patience, raising his voice to cut me off. “You need to cut it out! This is work! Is your basic professionalism going to be ruined just because you’re being suspicious and insecure?” He swept his gaze around the area, his sharp eyes pinning me in place. “Kissing on set is part of an actor’s job! Everyone has to overcome difficulties to complete a shoot! Are you special? Are you too precious? Stop making a big deal out of nothing!” Rhys’s sudden shift in attitude shocked the production team. Dozens of eyes were now focused solely on him. I let go of his wrist. All the fear, the anger, and that last, ridiculous shred of hope—all of it sank into the icy darkness of my eyes with that one movement. Rhys seemed satisfied with my surrender. He signaled the Director. “Stick to the original plan. Willow and I are going up. Avery… she needs to cool off.” Willow followed closely behind him. As she passed me, the corner of her mouth lifted in a fleeting, but perfectly clear, smirk. I stood there, watching their backs as they headed toward the massive wheel. Then, I pulled out my phone and quickly sent a message to Leo: [Terminate all contracts with Rhys Maxwell. After this episode airs, I want him to vanish from the entertainment industry.]

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