Category: English

  • Frames and Flames

    After taking over my father’s company, my best friend Maya insisted we act out her favorite CEO romance fantasy. I rented an entire amusement park for the night, ready to set off fireworks just for her. But as the first rocket was about to launch, a woman clutching a child burst from the bushes. Maya screamed, “Holy crap, is that a ghost from a daytime drama? Babe, save me!” The woman grabbed my leg, tears and snot covering her face. “You promised to come back and marry me when you succeeded! Why have you been gone three years? Who is she? Are you abandoning me and our son?” I froze, one hand touching my short, boyish haircut—cut to avoid an arranged marriage. Her desperation grew. “When we were together, you said I was the most beautiful woman alive! Now that our child is born, you pretend not to know me?” Before I could speak, her toddler wiped snot all over my pants. “Daddy, hold me!” Phones rose from the crowd, cameras flashing. The murmurs turned into loud accusations, branding me a deadbeat dad who abandoned his family. I looked desperately at Maya, but she was crying harder than the stranger. “Babe, say something! Who is she? You owe me an explanation tonight!” 1 Maya stood before me, pounding her fists against my chest in a dramatic display of heartbreak. “Say something! Who is this woman? And who is this ugly little kid?” “So this is what you do! You tell me I’m your first, but behind my back, you’ve got a whole collection of mistresses! How could you do this to me? Today is our five-year anniversary!” Maya was so deep in character that the other woman actually believed her. She wiped away a tear and whimpered. “So… you were already with someone when we met. No wonder you disappeared the morning after we slept together.” “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have fallen for you so easily. I’ve ruined our child’s life!” “I don’t want anything now. I know I can’t compete with this lady. Just… please take care of our son. If you could give me two thousand dollars a month for living expenses, I’d be content.” Two thousand dollars?! I nearly choked on a boba pearl. If I hadn’t just inherited the family business, two grand would be more than enough to buy my silence, not the other way around. Realizing this wasn’t part of the game, Maya dropped the act. “Wait, you’ve misunderstood. She’s not—” The woman cut her off frantically. “Enough! What are you trying to say? That your man isn’t that kind of person? Which scumbag has ‘scumbag’ written on his forehead?” “If he hadn’t forced himself on me, I never would have believed this could happen!” “I’m a woman who has thrown away her pride and dignity! I’m not even asking for the justice I deserve. All I want is for him to provide for his child. Is that too much to ask?” Gossip is a powerful force. The moment she said “forced,” the air went still. I deeply regretted not clearing the park of bystanders as the staff had suggested. I gave Maya a look that screamed, This is all your fault. If you wanted an audience for your CEO fantasy, I could have hired actors. Now we’re the main event! Maya looked so guilty she seemed ready to bury her head in the nearest planter. Before I could speak, a guy covered in tattoos stormed up to me. “It’s bad enough you look like a pretty boy, but you don’t even have the balls to act like a man. You’re a disgrace to men everywhere!” “Don’t you feel any shame when you look in the mirror?” I nodded earnestly. “Not really.” He sputtered, half-choked with rage. I’m a woman. The short hair was just a tactic to avoid being married off by my family. Why should I feel ashamed for disgracing manhood? The guy’s face turned beet red. “Fine, fine! You’re shameless, I can’t argue with you! Let’s call the police and let them sort it out!” 2 As he reached for his phone, the woman, Jenny, lunged forward and grabbed his hand. “No! Calling the police will hurt his career! I don’t want to cause him any more trouble.” She turned to me, her voice breaking. “Please, I’m begging you. Just help me with the baby. I wouldn’t have come to you if I wasn’t completely desperate… My last few bosses haven’t paid me in six months. I can’t even afford formula for little Ben!” Tears streamed down her face, and some of the onlookers were visibly moved. A few started to chime in. “Come on, man, be a decent human being. It’s your son. This poor girl has been through enough. She’s not even asking for damages.” “A son just fell into your lap from the sky! If I were you, I’d be so happy I couldn’t sleep for three days! Stop acting so high and mighty. If you can’t afford to raise a kid, you shouldn’t be taking a girl’s clothes off!” Maya, furious, tried to defend me, but everything she said only made us look worse. Soon, the crowd was calling us a pair of sickos—me, the predator, and her, the accomplice who paid off my victims. My temples throbbed with a building rage. Finally, I spoke, my voice tight. “I am not an irresponsible person,” I began. “But I need to make one thing perfectly clear. I have absolutely, completely, never met you before in my life! I sympathize with what you’ve been through, and it’s outrageous, but is it possible you have the wrong person?” Maya immediately jumped in. “Exactly! You must be mistaken! She’s not that kind of person. Besides, it’s impossible for her to get you pregnant!” A bystander shot back, “And how would you know? Are you a worm in his stomach? Or have you two been partners in crime this whole time, so you know exactly which women your boyfriend has slept with?” “Oh, I get it now,” another woman sneered. “You know all about his cheating. You probably help him find his victims! As a woman, how can you be so vile?” Maya was about to lose it and lunge at the woman, but Jenny’s sharp voice stopped her. “Your name is Corbin Jiang! That’s right, isn’t it?” I froze. She actually knew my name. “The night you took me to that hotel, I was drunk, but I saw your ID for a second. I remember your name! For three years, I haven’t forgotten you for a single day! Corbin Jiang, you ruined my life! Why should you get away with it?” Her hysterical cries ignited the crowd’s fury. “I thought it might be a mistake, but she knows his name! What else is there to say?” “Hey, you slept with her. Just admit it! Don’t be such a coward!” “You’re panicking now, but you were all too eager back at the hotel, weren’t you?” I stared hard at her, noticing the way her eyes darted away from mine. “Since you saw my name, you must be very familiar with it. Write it down. In front of everyone.” A sheen of cold sweat appeared on her forehead. “I already said it, why do I have to write it? You’re the one who won’t admit what you did, and now you’re doubting me?” “I never said I doubted you. I just want to confirm it was you that night. It’s just a name; it won’t take long. Unless… you’re hiding something?” I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. “Or maybe you don’t actually know how to spell my name at all. So who did you really sleep with that night? And whose ID did you see?” 3 Jenny’s face flushed with anger. “Of course, I know! I just… I didn’t bring a pen!” “That’s okay,” I said smoothly, pulling a pen from my jacket pocket. “I have one. And I have my ID, too. Don’t worry, I’m not going to run out on my responsibilities.” She sputtered, trapped. Finally, defeated, she took the pen and a napkin and began to write. She wrote slowly, as if each stroke was a monumental effort. When she was done, I took the paper and looked at it. And I laughed. Corbin Jiang. A man’s name. She had no idea I was a woman. My real name was Corinne. Close, but crucially different. I pulled out my ID, covering everything but my name. “Take a good look.” The name was clearly printed: Corinne Jiang. “Miss Jenny,” I said, my voice cold, “if you’re going to hunt someone down, at least do your homework. Rushing in blindly just gets you played.” The crowd started whispering among themselves, now suspecting that Jenny had indeed made a mistake. Seeing the tide turn against her, Jenny burst into tears. “You’re doing this on purpose! You got me drunk and drugged me that night! Of course, I don’t remember everything perfectly! Even if I forgot exactly how to spell your name, I’ll never forget the Porsche you were driving! You used that car to trick me!” Ah. So that was it. She was after the car. As for my name, she must have overheard Maya calling me and latched onto it. I nodded, stepping closer. “Then please, tell me. How, exactly, did I trick you? Since you hate me so much, you must remember that part vividly, right?” Her face went white. “That was the most painful night of my life. Are you really going to make me recount it in public? I’m already at rock bottom. Are you trying to push me over the edge?” As she spoke, she lowered her head and, hidden from the crowd, gave the child in her arms a sharp pinch. The sleeping toddler instantly erupted into shrieks. The crowd’s attention shifted. Forgetting their anger at me, they rushed to help her soothe the crying child. I turned to leave with Maya, but a hand shot out and clamped down on my wrist. The next thing I knew, I was flying backward, landing hard on the pavement. “Your son is still crying, and you’re trying to run? What kind of man are you?” The tattooed guy stood over me, fuming. To Jenny, he said, “Miss, I’ve got him for you. He’s going to acknowledge this kid today, one way or another. If he won’t, I’ll beat him until he does!” Maya burst into tears, trying to rush to my side, but the crowd blocked her. I slowly pushed myself up, my eyes fixed on Jenny. “So, what do you want?” She put on a pained, pitiful expression. “I just… I can’t raise a child alone. I really don’t have the means…” I cut her off with an impatient wave of my hand. “Get to the point. How much?” “I told you, I’m not that kind of person…” I gave a cold laugh and slipped the bank card I’d just taken out back into my wallet. “Fine. If you came here to give me a child, then consider him received. You can go now.” Jenny’s smile froze, her eyes filled with hurt. “How could you think of me like that? That’s not what I meant. I don’t want your money, but I had to borrow from all my relatives to raise him so far, so—” I took a deep breath. “You want me to pay off your debts?” “Would you?” Her innocent, manipulative expression almost made me puke. “You spelled my name wrong. You know nothing about my car besides the brand. What makes you think a few sob stories are enough to make me pay your debts? Do I look like an idiot? Find the man who actually slept with you. If you slander me again, I’ll see you in court.” 4 I rose shakily to my feet, ready to leave. Jenny panicked, trying to soothe her screaming child while yelling at my back, “Fine, go! If you walk away now, you’ll never see your son again! I’ll jump with him right now! We’ll die right in front of you, so we won’t get in the way of you and your new girlfriend!” Before anyone could react, she broke through the crowd, clutching the child, and sprinted away. Two minutes later, the emergency lights at the very top of the roller coaster switched on. She was sitting up there, the child in her arms, her figure swaying precariously against the night sky. “Corbin Jiang,” her voice, amplified by the park’s speakers, echoed around us, “I don’t blame you for not recognizing me, or for forgetting me. I only blame myself for choosing the wrong man. If we meet in the next life, if I had the same kind of family as that lady by your side… would our story have ended differently?” Her tragic monologue struck a chord with every person there. Maya and I were stunned. We never thought a shakedown artist would take it this far. Someone shoved me hard from behind. “What are you waiting for? Go save them!” a bystander roared. “Just agree to whatever she wants! A life is at stake! If she dies, it’s on you!” “I’ve never seen a more shameless man in my life! Your wife and child are about to commit suicide, and you’re just standing there! Will you be this calm when your own parents die? You’ll get what’s coming to you!” I wanted to scream that he wasn’t my son, that I didn’t care if she jumped. But I knew this wasn’t the time. Someone had started a live stream, and the camera was pointed directly at me. For the sake of views, the streamers were embellishing the story. In their narrative, I was a monster who had abandoned his first family and was now driving them to their deaths for my new girlfriend. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flooded the stream, the comments a torrent of curses. “GIRL, DON’T DO IT! HE’S THE ONE WHO SHOULD DIE!” “IF YOU DIE, YOU’RE JUST GIVING THE SCUMBAG AND HIS MISTRESS WHAT THEY WANT!” “WAKE UP! YOUR SON NEEDS YOU!” “THAT BASTARD BETTER GET STRUCK BY LIGHTNING!” The cameras, the insults, the online vitriol—it was a tidal wave threatening to drown me. Left with no choice, I tried to negotiate. But no matter what I said, Jenny wouldn’t budge from her demand: two million dollars. After a thirty-minute standoff, the police arrived. I finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Officer, I want to report her! She’s falsely accusing me of getting her pregnant and trying to extort me for two million dollars! But I’m not even a—” Before I could say the word “man,” Jenny’s broken sobs rained down from above. “Officer, don’t believe him! I have proof! I had a paternity test done!” The police urged her to come down, promising they would help her. But she refused, instead throwing two sheets of paper down from the coaster. I stared at the fluttering papers, a growing sense of dread coiling in my stomach. “Officer,” I said quietly, “can she even hear me from all the way up there? I wasn’t speaking very loudly. How did she know what I said?” A bystander looked ready to hit me. “Officer, are you hearing this? What kind of monster is he? He didn’t believe the poor girl, so of course, she brought evidence! It’s perfectly normal!” I tried to explain, but no one was listening. An officer picked up the report and slowly opened it. The crowd fell silent, their eyes glued to the paper. At that exact moment, a message from an unknown number popped up on my phone. “After today, you’re finished. Corinne Jiang, consider this my first gift to you.” Suddenly, a sickening thud echoed from the distance. Panic erupted. “Someone jumped! Someone jumped! Somebody help!” “That poor girl… her ghost will haunt this bastard forever!” The officer holding the report froze, shoved it into my hands, and sprinted towards the commotion. “The kid is yours,” he’d said before he ran. “You’ll never be able to explain this now.”

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  • The Cleanest Lie

    Before the SATs, my mom had one rule: no washing our hair. She firmly believed that shampoo would wash away all the knowledge in our brains. I didn’t buy it, but my twin sister, Lily, obeyed without question. Later, Lily became the laughingstock of the school. They said her hair was dirtier than a pigsty. Crying, she begged me to take her to a salon. As a result, she bombed the SATs. When Mom demanded answers, Lily blamed me: “If my sister hadn’t made me wash my hair, I would have been valedictorian!” In a fit of rage, she pushed me into the river. When I opened my eyes again, I heard my mom’s voice: “For the next 100 days until the SATs, no one is allowed to wash their hair!” Chapter 1 “Washing your hair washes the knowledge right out of your brain.” My mom’s shrill voice jolted me awake. “For the next 100 days until the SATs, neither of you is allowed to wash your hair!” I snapped back to reality, finding myself sitting at the kitchen table. Across from me was my twin sister, Lily, with her usual meek and obedient expression. I had been reborn. “Mom, that’s just a myth. How can you still believe that?” I heard myself blurt out the words. In my last life, I said the exact same thing and got chewed out for it. Mom slammed her chopsticks down and smacked me on the head. “What do you know? The experts say it’s true! “Mrs. Johnson’s son next door didn’t listen, washed his hair, and his score dropped by 100 points!” What Mom didn’t know was that Mrs. Johnson’s son cheated on every test. When it came to the SATs, with no one to copy off of, of course his score tanked. I tried to argue, hoping to change her outdated mindset. But she just unleashed her anger on me. She called me unmotivated, disrespectful. She even blamed me for her divorce and her fear of dating again. Before, I was too stubborn, always trying to reason with her. But with a mom who refused to listen, I needed a new strategy. “Mom, the kids at prep schools wash their hair every day. They say feeling fresh helps them focus.” I raised my voice deliberately. “And their acceptance rates are way higher than ours.” Mom paused. She was a sucker for the “other kids do it better” theory. But soon, she regained her composure, her face stern. “Stop with your nonsense! Lily, you be the judge. Who’s right, me or your sister?” Chapter 2 Lily glanced at me first. Seeing my calm expression, she turned to Mom with a sweet, obedient smile. “Of course I listen to you, Mom.” “See? Lily is the good one.” I didn’t argue further. I finished my soy milk and left for school without another word. Behind me, Mom’s muttering continued: “Always with that long face. What a burden. Unlike Lily, who was born to be a blessing.” Mom always said Lily looked more like her. But we were identical twins. We had the exact same face. Growing up, Mom always favored Lily. When she divorced Dad, she didn’t hesitate to dump me at my grandma’s house. If Dad hadn’t remarried and Grandma hadn’t passed away, forcing my grandparents to take me in because they pitied me… She wouldn’t have even remembered she had another daughter. I used to feel sorry for her, a single mom raising two girls. But my sympathy was met with constant belittling. When I used my allowance to buy her clothes, she called me wasteful. When Lily simply said “Mom, you work so hard” empty-handed, she was so moved she gave her a thousand dollars on the spot. She was a mother, but she wasn’t my mother. At the school gate, Lily caught up, panting. She immediately started lecturing me: “Sister, Mom has it hard. Don’t make her angry!” Her face, feigning innocence. It sent a chill down my spine. In my last life, she begged me to take her to a salon in secret. Afterward, she asked me to keep it a secret. But in the end, she pushed me to my death. The last thing I saw was her hateful expression. As if I were a monster who deserved to die. But I was just trying to help! I turned around and nodded casually. “Yeah, got it.” She wanted to say more. But I had already run through the gates, blending into the crowd of students. We weren’t in the same class anyway. Whatever happened to her from now on was her choice. In this new life, whether they washed their hair or not was none of my business! Chapter 3 That night, I had just stepped out of the shower. I ran right into Mom. She grabbed my ear and yelled: “I told you this morning not to wash your hair! are you deaf?” I pulled away and took a step back. “Even if I wash it every day, I’ll still be in the top ten for the mock exams.” Mom raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. After all, she had never been to a single parent-teacher conference for me. Between Lily and me, she always chose Lily. “Fine! If you don’t make it, don’t expect your grandma to buy you a phone!” When Lily said the new iPhone looked nice, Mom bought her the latest model immediately. I had begged from freshman to senior year, but my requests were ignored. Even when Grandma wanted to reward me, Mom would intervene. I was numb to this double standard. Lily, who had been hiding in her room eavesdropping, rushed in after Mom left. “Why did you bet your grades just to spite Mom?” “You’re smart, but I can’t score that high. If Mom yells at me later, it’s all your fault!” I admired her ability to make everything about herself. I kept working on my English practice test without looking up. “If you’re afraid of getting yelled at, read fewer romance novels and study more.” Her face turned pale with anger, and she stormed out, slamming the door. “Some sister you are!” From the next room came the sound of things being thrown. I acted like nothing happened and dove back into the sea of questions. Lily’s hair, unwashed for a month, started to smell pungent. Although she secretly used dry shampoo, it didn’t solve the root problem. She came home crying, saying classmates mocked her, writing “Toilet” on her desk with chalk. Boys would make gagging noises when she walked by. Even during gym class, she was forced to stand at the very back. Mom called the principal on the spot, accusing the teachers of ignoring bullying. Lily’s homeroom teacher got disciplined because of it. After the incident blew up, the whole school knew. There was a girl in Senior Class 2 who didn’t wash her hair. The mockery expanded from her classmates to the entire student body. She became known as the “Homeless Girl.” Wherever she went, people would snicker knowingly. Someone even started a TikTok account updating the “Homeless Girl’s” daily life. One day after school, she begged me with red eyes: “Sis, take me to get my hair washed.” I kept walking towards the bus stop without turning back. She tugged hard on my backpack strap. Unable to pull away, I frowned. “Ask Mom to take you.” She looked both fearful and disgusted. “You know Mom won’t agree!” I raised my voice. “Then keep being a good girl and listen to her.” In the end, she didn’t wash her hair. She washed her hats every day. She bought wigs to wear and sprayed perfume on her head. But these were just band-aids. They couldn’t hide the smell of grease and rot. Lily begged me three or four more times in private. But I was busy with my studies and refused. I wasn’t going to carry that burden again. Chapter 4 The first mock exam results came out. I was firmly in eighth place. Mom was so happy she bought Lily another new phone. “Lily has been under a lot of stress lately, her grades slipped. She needs to relax.” Lily waved her phone at me, showing off. “My sister is introverted at school, unlike me. I think a flip phone is too much for her.” Mom confiscated my phone that day, saying it was a waste of money if I didn’t use it. I was used to this level of bias. If I wanted something, I could earn it myself. After the second mock exam, Lily’s score dropped another thirty points. She defended herself tearfully: “The test was too hard this time.” Meanwhile, my score went up by 30 points. I was third in the grade, twentieth in the city. The teacher called specifically to congratulate us. Mom brushed it off and kept asking about Lily. The teacher said awkwardly: “I’m not Lily’s teacher. You should ask her homeroom teacher.” Mom’s execution was swift. She texted the teacher immediately. But she found out the teacher had blocked her. Mom cursed: “Irresponsible teachers like that deserve to be punished! She should be fired!” She forgot. She was the one texting the teacher at all hours. Calling at 2 AM because she couldn’t sleep. The teacher couldn’t take the harassment anymore. Mom never reflected on her actions. So Lily, raised by her hand, was exactly the same. Lily didn’t work hard enough and regressed, but she always blamed external factors. Mom even suggested Lily stop showering. “Washing your hair washes away knowledge. Showering might affect it too.” Lily couldn’t win against Mom. She only dared to wipe her body down secretly late at night. One month before the SATs, Lily finally broke down. With greasy, matted hair, she rushed into the bathroom. Mom dragged her out and comforted her patiently: “Lily, just a few more days. Hang in there.” I sat at my desk, listening to English tapes. But the cheap headphones didn’t block out the noise. I couldn’t block out my sister’s hysterical screaming: “I have to wash it! Everyone laughs at me, calling me a homeless kid! My hair is dirtier than a pigsty! Even the teachers dodge me when I say hi!” Mom made another call. Not to the principal this time, but to the Board of Education. She reported severe discrimination and bullying by teachers and students at Lily’s school, demanding punishment. During the critical pre-SAT period, everyone was afraid of a scandal. After an investigation, the instigator turned out to be the whistleblower herself. I heard that when the Board leaders called Mom in for a chat… She smashed a teacup and threw files everywhere. In the end, the police took her away for a “talk.” All the way to the station, she screamed: “My daughter doesn’t smell!”

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  • The Sister I Betrayed

    On my eighteenth birthday, I wasn’t blowing out candles. I was being arrested for aggravated assault. No matter how hard I tried to prove my innocence, it was useless. The star witness against me was my own brother. “Ava, you have a severe sleepwalking condition. You just didn’t know about it!” “But this time you hurt Chloe. I can’t cover for you anymore!” Just like that, I was thrown into prison with a five-year sentence. Fast forward to one week before my release. I was getting beaten into the concrete floor by the cell block boss again. During the beating, my nose started bleeding uncontrollably, and I passed out. I was rushed to the infirmary. In a haze, I heard the correctional officers talking outside. “Man, that rich kid Ethan is cold-blooded. Framing his own sister just to help his adopted one get ahead.” “Keep it down! Take that to the grave. We don’t know anything.” I opened my eyes, clutching the diagnosis paper for acute leukemia in my hand, and suddenly laughed. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. Ethan, I’m finally doing what you wanted. I’m really going to die. The prison doctor looked at me, terrified as I laughed and cried at the same time. He sighed, trying to comfort me. “Don’t be too pessimistic. If we can find a matching bone marrow donor, the five-year survival rate is still decent.” He walked around to my side, and I felt a sharp sting in my hand. “This IV might burn a little. Just bear with it.” I looked down blankly. Pain? I didn’t feel it. Compared to five years of unanswered prayers and hopeless torment, what was a little needle prick? The doctor asked me again. “Do you have family? You can ask them to come in for testing. Siblings usually have the best…” “No.” I cut him off, my voice flat, though my heart throbbed with a dull ache. “I don’t have family.” I paused, my throat dry and scratchy. “I’m an orphan.” I finally realized it. From the beginning to the end, I had always been like an orphan. No one loved me. The doctor froze. Another heavy sigh. He opened the door, and two guards walked in. They exchanged a look with the doctor, hesitating. They pitied me. But they had no choice. Ethan, the heir to the Pierce family fortune, had given instructions. They had to follow them. “Finish the IV and head back. You have one month left on your sentence.” It was evening when I returned to the cell. The other inmates were already asleep. I dragged my exhausted body inside and accidentally bumped into the boss’s bunk. Screeech. A loud, jarring noise. “You looking to die?! Watch where you’re walking!” She flipped out of bed and kicked me square in the lower back, eyes full of malice. “Five years, Ava. You really have nine lives, don’t you?” Big Red was serving a life sentence. Seeing someone like me, who was about to taste freedom in a month, only made her hate me more. Fists rained down on me like hail. I curled up on the floor, covering my head with my hands, silently taking it. “Hey! Knock it off!” A guard banged his baton on the bars. “Quiet down! Or you’re all going to solitary!” Big Red stopped and spat on me. “Pfft! I got a whole month left to mess you up!” I lay on the cold floor. The chemotherapy drugs made me weak, draining every ounce of strength from my body. I could only curl up like a turtle, using my shell for protection. Pathetic. Absurd. I stumbled back to my bunk and pulled the thin blanket over my head. After a long while, a small sob escaped my lips. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. Thinking about what the guards said, I felt a wave of desolation. The prison sentence, the suffering, the torture. It was all because of one thing Ethan had said: Chloe just got here. Ava, you’re the big sister now. You need to be more understanding. Six years ago, when Ethan first adopted Chloe, an orphan girl, I truly treated her like a sister. But over the next year, I realized my brother had changed. At the dinner table, my favorite dishes disappeared. They were replaced by the seafood feasts Chloe loved. He forgot I was severely allergic to seafood. So allergic that when I was a kid, a single bite of abalone almost killed me. I still remember that day. Ethan was so frantic he wanted to beat himself up. “I’m sorry, Ava. I didn’t know. I’ll remember from now on. I promise.” But after Chloe arrived, all he said was: “If you don’t want to eat, leave the table. Stop being dramatic!” From then on, I sat alone on the edge of the sofa while they cuddled together, a happy family of two. At school, Ethan stopped coming to my parent-teacher conferences. Instead, he canceled important meetings to attend Chloe’s. Gradually, I lost my brother. I lost the brother who once said he would spend his whole life protecting me… Chapter 1 After crying myself into a fitful sleep, I was woken by a guard banging on the bars. He looked at me. “Inmate 1745. Your parole paperwork went through. You’re released today.” I froze. It felt like a joke. Walking out of those iron gates, looking up at a sky that wasn’t cut into squares by bars, felt like stepping into another life. “Ava.” A familiar figure walked toward me. I looked up, my gaze hardening. It was my brother. He walked over, looking as dashing and pristine as ever. Standing next to me, in my ragged state, the contrast was jarring. “You’re out. I came to pick you up.” I stared at him for two seconds. He felt like a stranger. He looked away, guilt flashing in his eyes before he could hide it. I saw it clearly. “Ethan, I don’t have a sleepwalking disorder, right? And I never hurt Chloe.” His face stiffened. I kept going. “Everything was just a way for you to protect Chloe. But I don’t understand. I never hurt her.” “What could possibly make you do something so cruel to me?” He stopped walking, lips pressed into a thin line, afraid to meet my eyes. I forced a smile and continued. “Also, I’m sick.” He took a deep breath and turned around, his eyes full of impatience. “Ava, you just got out and you’re already starting drama?” “First you question the sleepwalking, now you’re sick? What’s next? You’re going to say you were framed and now you’re dying?” I opened my mouth to say yes. But his sharp, disgusted glare shoved the words back down my throat. He suppressed his temper. He led me toward the car. “Wait.” I reached for the front passenger door, but he stopped me. He pursed his lips. “The front seat is Chloe’s spot. You sit in the back.” My throat clicked as I swallowed. I laughed at myself. “So now, in your heart, is Chloe your only sister?” He frowned, correcting me. “It’s Chloe Pierce now. I’ve added her to our family registry. She’s your sister too.” He didn’t deny it… On the way home, I felt a warm liquid rush from my nose. I quickly tilted my head back. But the blood still dripped out. “What’s wrong?” Ethan frowned, watching me in the rearview mirror as he handed back a tissue. I endured the bone-deep ache radiating through my body. “Just stress. It’s nothing.” He nodded and didn’t ask again. Returning to the home I hadn’t seen in five years felt surreal. “Ava!” A girl fluttered toward me like a social butterfly. “You’re finally back! I missed you so much.” I looked at her, and a wave of inferiority washed over me. In five years, I had gone from confident to cowardly, while she showed no trace of the timid girl she used to be. I brushed her hand away. “We aren’t that close. Cut the act.” Chloe froze, looking wronged. Ethan’s face darkened instantly. He stepped forward to scold me. “It seems five years in prison didn’t teach you how to behave. Ava, apologize!” My body went stiff. But I still bowed slightly to her. “I’m sorry, Chloe.” Back inside the villa, I went upstairs to my room. Ethan followed me. “By the way, I forgot to tell you. Your room is Chloe’s now. You’ll stay in the guest room for the time being.” My fingers curled into a fist, slowly tightening. “…Okay.” Dinner was the same nightmare. A seafood feast that could kill me. Later, I sat on the edge of the sofa, out of place as always. When I went back to the guest room, Chloe followed me in. This time, the fake sweetness was gone. Her expression was vicious, hateful. “Looks like you’re hard to kill. I can’t believe you didn’t die in there.” I looked up, realizing everything in an instant. “So Big Red… you arranged that?” Chloe smiled and shook her head. “You’re wrong. It wasn’t me. It was Ethan.” “Ethan knew that without you around, I wouldn’t have to suffer anyone’s cold looks.” “I could finally be the true princess of the Pierce family.” It hit me like a truck. So the five years of prison… It was just because Ethan wanted the world to accept Chloe without question. A scheme to ensure she never felt “less than”… It was insane. I lowered my head and laughed out loud. Chloe frowned at me. “Are you crazy?” Slap! Chloe turned her head, clutching her stinging cheek, eyes wide with shock. “You’re crazy! You dared to hit me!” I stepped forward, grabbing her neck with one hand. “I’m going to die anyway, Chloe. Why don’t you come to hell with me!” “Cough… Cough! Let go of me!” Her face started turning blue, her eyes rolling back. Bang! The door was kicked open. I was kicked away, slamming into the foot of the bed. “Ava!” Ethan looked at the finger marks on Chloe’s neck, grinding his teeth in rage. “Have you lost your mind?!” I lay on the floor, spitting out a mouthful of blood. It soaked into the black carpet, invisible. Ethan wasn’t done. He scolded me coldly. “If you dare hurt Chloe again, I’ll throw you right back in prison!” The door slammed shut. Bang. It felt like a hammer to my heart. I lowered my eyes. My nose was bleeding again. It hurt so much… I bit my hand hard, but a painful whimper still escaped. I dragged my suitcase downstairs. This wasn’t my home. Ethan saw me in the living room with my bag and frowned. “What? You hit someone and now you’re running away?” I didn’t speak. He sneered. “Then get lost! Go far away!” I looked at him, and suddenly my brain spun. My eyes rolled back, and I collapsed to the floor. “Ava!” Chapter 2 When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Ethan stood there with a dark expression. Next to him were a doctor with his head lowered and Chloe, whose eyes were dancing with amusement. Seeing me open my eyes, Ethan stepped forward. He ripped the IV tube out of my hand, scolding me in a low voice. “So your goal was to make me think you have leukemia, right? To make me feel guilty? Or are you trying to push Chloe out of the house step by step?” “Ava Pierce!” He roared, making my scalp tingle. “You are absolutely despicable!” I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him I really was sick. But I was interrupted by the very doctor who had diagnosed me with leukemia in prison. “I’m sorry, Miss Pierce. I’ve already returned the money to your account.” “As a doctor with ethics, I cannot help you lie to your family.” My eyes widened. My ears started ringing. “What did you say?” Realizing something, I instinctively looked at Chloe. The smugness, the schadenfreude, the hate—I saw it all. “It’s you again…” I spoke, my voice hoarse, sounding like I was weeping blood. My eyes were terrifyingly red. Ethan frowned, instantly shielding Chloe behind him, his face dark. “You never learn!” “Didn’t you want to run away from home? I’ll grant your wish. Get out of the Pierce family. Now!” With that, he took Chloe’s hand and stormed out. The woman turned around. She smiled at me and mouthed, “You lose again.” The room fell silent. The doctor looked down. His eyes were full of struggle. “I’m sorry…” “My child needs money to study abroad. Ava, I really am sorry…” I twitched the corner of my mouth. Whatever. Every man for himself. But tears still fell from the corners of my eyes, drop by drop, onto the hospital bed. I was kicked out. I rented a run-down apartment in the slums. That night, just as I took my medicine and was about to sleep, I heard the lock being picked. I sat up instantly, grabbing a bat I kept by the bed. Someone outside was cursing. “Damn, what kind of dump is this little b*tch living in? Can’t even pick the lock!” The moment I heard her voice, I froze. It was her! Big Red from prison… But she was serving a life sentence. How was she out? Before I could process it, the person outside kicked the door open. The impact sent me crashing to the floor. Big Red sneered. She squatted down, snatched the bat from my hand, and tapped it rhythmically against the floorboards. The sound drained the color from my face. I looked at her and suddenly laughed. “It was Chloe, right? Since prison, was it Chloe ordering you to torture me?” She paused, her eyes flickering. “Who’s Chloe? I don’t know her. I just don’t like your face. You got a problem with that?” I stood up shakily. Without money for treatment, my body was screaming in pain again. “In prison, you used the excuse that my sentence was short and you were jealous.” “But I just got out, and you’re out right after me? Do you think I’d believe such a ridiculous lie?” Big Red’s eyes turned dark and sinister. I scoffed. “Seems like Chloe paid you well if you were willing to sit in prison for five years just to hurt me!” Bang! “Shut up, b*tch!” My back slammed into the coffee table. Shattered glass sliced into my flesh. Pain. Excruciating pain! Suddenly, the door was pushed open, and a deep voice demanded, “What are you doing?!” Chapter 3 Ethan walked in with Chloe, his face grim. Big Red caught Chloe’s eye and immediately put on a guilty expression. “We… we weren’t acting. No, wait…” She hurriedly covered her mouth and glanced at me. Ethan closed his eyes. His voice dropped. “Speak!” Big Red trembled in fear. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pierce. It was Miss Ava. She hired me. She told me to beat her up.” “So she could frame the young lady next to you.” Chloe’s eyes widened, looking like she had suffered a massive injustice. “Ava?” “How could you…” I stood up. My back was a bloody mess. My nose started bleeding again. Drip, drip. Blood hit the floorboards. “Chloe, I already left the family. Why won’t you let me go?” Ethan sneered. He protected Chloe behind him while mocking me. “She won’t let you go?” “Ava, you’re still acting!” Ethan shook his head, the disappointment in his eyes stinging my heart. “How did you become like this?” His gaze froze on my bleeding nose, and suddenly his heart gave a strange lurch. He frowned hard. But he quickly shook it off. For some reason, he just got angrier! “You really prepared thoroughly to frame Chloe. Ava, your heart is venomous!” “I can’t believe I even came to check on you. What a waste of my feelings!” He took Chloe and turned to leave. The room went quiet. Big Red suddenly scoffed. “Looks like being a rich missy isn’t that great after all.” She reached out and pinched my face, viciously. “Don’t worry. Your ‘good days’ are just beginning!” I slumped to the floor. My eyes lost focus as I stared at the closed door. My heart felt numb. It didn’t feel that sad anymore. A week later, I fainted again. Perhaps out of guilt, that doctor paid for a round of painkillers out of his own pocket. “If you don’t find a bone marrow donor… you don’t have much time left.” I clenched my fingers. I just nodded silently and left the hospital. In the time that followed, Ethan never came to see me again. Chloe, however, came by often to torture and mock me. I lay sick in bed. Like a fish on a chopping block, I didn’t even have the strength to struggle. I just let them cut. “Ava, don’t blame me.” “You had everything. I had nothing. I had no choice but to take it. Ethan… he can only have one sister.” That night, Ethan unexpectedly called me. “Do you know you were wrong?” I fell silent. I didn’t speak. I asked myself: Was I wrong? Where did I go wrong? “Ethan, the day after tomorrow is my birthday. Will you celebrate with me? Like on my eighteenth birthday?” The line went quiet, save for Ethan’s heavy breathing. “I’m in Iceland with Chloe watching the aurora. I might not make it back. But…” “If you admit your mistake, I’ll bring you a gift.” I looked down. The pain in my body made my hand shake as I held the phone. “Is that so? But Ethan…” I paused, holding back the overwhelming bitterness and grief. “I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Ethan’s voice turned sharp again. “Ava, I really shouldn’t have had any expectations for you.” Beep. Beep. Beep. The call ended abruptly. My hand lost strength, and the phone crashed to the floor. Tears shimmered in the corners of my eyes. They sparkled in the moonlight. The wind blew. It was so, so cold. For the next two days, I didn’t even have the strength to get my medicine. I lay on the bed. Watching the clock tick away, second by second. In the final moment, I finally accepted the fact that my brother wasn’t coming back. I’m so tired. My breathing grew faint. “Ava, happy birthday.” I whispered to myself, breathed my last breath, and closed my eyes forever. The very next second. A loud banging came from the door, followed by Ethan’s muffled voice. “Ava, open the door!” Chapter 4 Ethan banged on the door, a wave of inexplicable irritability rising in his chest. That feeling. It was exactly like when Ava was a child and had that allergic reaction to seafood, her life hanging by a thread. Ethan’s hand froze mid-knock. “Seafood allergy…” He murmured the words, his heart tingling with unease. Right. He remembered that because Chloe liked it, the table had been full of seafood for days. He had completely forgotten about Ava’s allergy. Seeing no movement inside for a long time, he lost his patience. “Still not opening up? I bought you a cake, Ava. My patience is limited!” He pursed his lips, listening intently for any sound inside. But in the silent night, it was dead quiet. Ethan frowned and picked up his phone, tapping on ‘Ava’. One second, two seconds. He pressed his ear to the door, listening for a ringtone. Looking at the unanswered call, he felt annoyed. He thought Ava was throwing a tantrum. “Fine. Won’t open the door? Ava, I literally flew back overnight to celebrate your birthday!” “Suit yourself!” He slammed the cake box down in front of the door and turned to leave. Inside the room, the girl lay quietly in the moonlight. Her body grew colder and stiffer. Her breathing had stopped long ago. Back at the villa, he ripped off his tie and threw it aside, feeling suffocated. He thought of Ava’s words on the phone: But Ethan, I don’t even know what I did wrong. Ethan felt restless. It was true. Sending her to prison was his idea, just a way to stop people from criticizing Chloe’s background. Come to think of it, she hadn’t actually done anything wrong… The more he thought about it, the more gloom settled in his chest, giving him a bad premonition. Just then, Chloe walked downstairs. She sat next to Ethan, a shadow crossing her eyes. “Ethan, what’s wrong?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling exhausted. “I can’t reach Ava. She’s probably sulking. It’s fine.” Chloe’s eyes flickered. He didn’t know what happened to that b*tch Ava, but she knew very well. She was probably cold by now! Heh. Chloe felt a surge of triumph. As long as Ava was dead, she would be the true Pierce heiress from now on! Ethan would belong only to her! Two people sat in the living room, their thoughts miles apart. One anxious, one gloating. For the next two days, Ethan went to knock on Ava’s door during his breaks from work. No matter how hard he knocked, there was no response. He looked down at the moldy cake at the door. He finally realized something was wrong. “Ethan?” “Chloe?” Ethan stopped trying to ram the door, frowning. “What are you doing here?” She opened her mouth. She couldn’t say she came specifically to see Ava’s miserable state. She made something up. “I came to see Ava. I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have dragged you to see the aurora on her birthday.” Ethan paused, not contradicting her. Chloe clenched her fists, malice flashing in her eyes. What did he mean by that silence! At this point, Ethan started slamming his shoulder into the door. Crash! The door burst open. A thick, putrid stench hit them in the face. They stumbled back two steps. Chloe covered her nose, her face full of disgust. “Ethan, did something rot in Ava’s house? What is that smell?” Ethan pressed his lips together. He didn’t know. But the anxiety haunting him reached its peak. “Ava?” He walked around but saw no one. Finally, they stopped in front of the bedroom door. The source of the stench! Bang bang bang! Ethan knocked louder and louder, his expression starting to crack. “Ava! Open the door! I’m counting to three. Don’t make me angry!” “Three, two, one!” Silence. In the corner, my spirit floated, watching them, scoffing. Open it? I’m already dead. Ethan closed his eyes, took a step back, and kicked hard. Crash! The door splintered. The overwhelming stench rushed out. “Ugh!” Chloe almost vomited, looking repulsed. But Ethan rushed in regardless. When he saw the person on the bed, already decomposing and crawling with maggots… His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor.

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  • For His Assistant, He Left With Nothing

    It was a completely ordinary day. After we’d both washed up, my husband, Isla, suddenly asked me a question. “Beth, why don’t you try growing your hair out?” “It’s always short. To be honest, I’m getting a little tired of it.” My hand, holding the hairdryer, paused mid-air. In that single instant, I understood everything. He had a point of comparison out there. Someone new, someone with long hair, someone who made him feel a spark of novelty. 1 I didn’t have any proof. And I was pregnant. So I didn’t say anything. After a brief pause, I just went back to drying my hair. Isla, lying on the bed, wouldn’t let it go. “I’m serious. You have a round face, and you’ve put on some weight. The short hair just doesn’t look good on you.” “I’ll go with you to the salon to get extensions. We can get some of those trendy waves put in. It would look amazing.” He was smiling, completely oblivious to how each word he spoke made my face grow colder. We’d been together since we were eighteen. I knew him too well. He couldn’t tell the difference between face shapes, let alone one type of curl from another. The only possible explanation was that someone else out there knew the difference. And she had taught him. I stayed silent for a moment, my left hand resting on my now-showing belly. I reminded him, “Isla, I’m pregnant. I can’t get my hair permed.” Just last week, he had been with me at my check-up. The doctor had specifically told him to make sure I avoided any harsh chemicals. Especially salons. He was told to keep me away from them. But Isla had forgotten. Worse, after I reminded him, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “You’re such a buzzkill. No wonder they say women turn into shrews when they get pregnant.” “I’m a man. How am I supposed to know little details like pregnant women can’t get their hair done? You always have to make a big deal out of nothing.” I unplugged the hairdryer, pulled back the covers, and got into bed. Isla was right. I did love to make a big deal out of nothing. For example, when we first got married, he’d said one little thing about wanting to “give me a better life,” and I had pestered my father until he invested the time and money to establish Apex Innovations, the tech company where Isla was now CEO. And tonight, because of a few little words like “long hair” and “tired of it,” I decided that after my check-up tomorrow, I would make some time to visit the office. I wanted to see for myself what this person who had sparked Isla’s “novelty” looked like. 2 The next day, I had our driver take me to the company. On the way, I reviewed the information our house manager had sent over. The girl’s name was Mia. The black Maybach pulled up in front of the office building. I held my back and walked in slowly. The first person to see me was the receptionist. She was a fresh graduate from last year. During her interview, she was so nervous and inexperienced she could barely speak, and I found her crying alone in the fire escape. I had wiped her tears, taken her hand, and walked her into Isla’s office, asking him to give her a chance. Ever since, every time I visited, she would greet me with a sweet, “Hi, Mrs. Evans!” But today, when she saw me, her hands and feet started to tremble. “Mrs. Evans, you—what are you doing here?” “Mr. Evans is in a meeting. Should I… should I give him a call?” “No need. I’m looking for Mia.” The moment I said the name “Mia,” the color drained from the young woman’s face. “Mia is… she’s busy right now. Maybe I should just call Mr. Evans.” She forced a smile and reached for the phone. I knew instantly. She knew. She knew about Isla and Mia betraying me. A sharp, needle-like pain pricked at my heart. I gave her a cold look and reminded her, “This company belongs to my family, not to him.” Isla came from a modest background; his parents were simple, working-class people. In a city this large, they were practically invisible. It was because of me that my father funded his education abroad, polished his resume, and then helped him start this company, turning him into the widely respected “Mr. Evans.” He had walked a smooth, easy path for so long that he had probably forgotten. My father held a 68% controlling stake in this company. As for Isla, he was nothing more than a well-paid executive manager that my family had hired. My words seemed to stun the receptionist. Her fingers froze over the keypad. I didn’t spare her another glance and walked straight toward the main office area. At the turn in the hallway, I ran into Kevin, the HR manager. He was carrying a stack of files. The moment he saw me, his hands went slack, and the folders clattered to the floor. “Mrs. Evans? What are you doing at the office?” “Does Mr. Evans know you’re here?” I had personally hired Kevin. Last month, his mother was diagnosed with kidney failure, and he couldn’t afford the medical bills. I had quietly approached him and given him twenty thousand dollars. And now, it seemed he had betrayed me too. I let out a small, bitter laugh and walked around him. Kevin scrambled to follow, trying to block my path while stammering excuses. “Mrs. Evans, Mr. Evans said that with the pregnancy, you shouldn’t come to the office. He’s worried someone might bump into you.” “Let me take you home. When Mr. Evans gets back, you can…” I stopped and stared directly into his eyes. My voice was flat, devoid of warmth. “Kevin, are your mother’s medical bills all paid up?” The man’s expression froze. He looked away, unable to meet my gaze. “But… but Mr. Evans said that tomorrow, the new subsidiary he’s starting is signing a contract with Sterling Corp. If it’s successful, we can all move to his new company and get a huge bonus. We can’t have a scandal right now.” “Mrs. Evans, please, can’t you just be understanding for our sake?” Understanding? I laughed, a humorless sound. I was supposed to tolerate my husband keeping a mistress in the office for the sake of these employees who took my family’s money and then stabbed me in the back? I remembered the chat logs I had secretly found last night. A girl with a pink kitten avatar, saved as “Mia,” had messaged Isla. “Honey, did she take my suggestion?” “Don’t worry, I asked the stylist. That little bit of chemical won’t hurt the baby. It’ll just make her a little uncomfortable.” “I’m so jealous of Beth. She gets to have you all to herself with that same old look she’s had forever.” “If I were her, I’d be changing up my style every month, just to make sure you never get bored.” The memory of last night washed over me, and a wave of nausea rose in my throat. The temperature in my voice dropped to absolute zero. “Move,” I said coldly. Kevin flinched but still hesitated. I didn’t wait. I pushed open the door to the office. “Which one of you is Mia?” 3 The buzz of the office died instantly. After a long moment, a girl in a yellow dress stood up. She had long, light brown hair that fell in waves to her waist. She looked young and fashionable. “You—you’re looking for me?” The moment she saw me, her eyes darted around in a flicker of panic, like a startled deer. But she quickly composed herself, forcing a self-righteous smile. “Ma’am, this is an office. Everyone is busy. Please don’t disturb our work.” With that one sentence, she painted me as the troublemaker. The other employees started to stare at me with suspicion. If I were just an ordinary wife, perhaps her prim and proper words would have made me back down. But luckily for me, I wasn’t. I was the real owner of this company. I smiled, walked up to her, and fixed my gaze on her deceptively innocent face. I said, enunciating each word, “Mia, is it? You’re fired.” The girl’s composure shattered. She looked up, her voice rising in protest. “On what grounds? Mr. Evans hired me personally!” “Just yesterday, he praised my work ethic and said he was giving me the ‘Employee of the Month’ award. You can’t just—” “I can because I am his wife, and this company is my family’s property. And you…” I paused, my pregnant belly doing nothing to diminish my authority. “Do you really think Isla would divorce me for you?” The color drained from Mia’s face, inch by inch, until it was a translucent white. I felt a profound sense of boredom. I ripped the employee ID from her chest, turned, and walked away. The moment I got home, my phone rang. It was Isla. “Beth! Are you insane? Who gave you the right to come to my office and cause a scene?” “Mia is a good employee! Why would you fire her? You need to apologize to her, right now!” On cue, I could hear Mia’s sobs in the background. “Mr. Evans, I really don’t know what I did to offend Mrs. Evans… After what she did, I’m too embarrassed to even show my face at the office anymore, sob…” Watching their pathetic performance, I was debating whether to just throw the divorce papers in his face. But Isla beat me to it. “Beth, you have disappointed me more than I can say. I cannot have a shrew for a wife. Let’s get a divorce.” The words died in my throat. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, at the tired face pregnancy had given me, and my eyes suddenly burned with a fierce, terrible redness. It was sadness, but it was overshadowed by a bitter indignation. I never imagined that after discovering his affair, he would be the one to ask for the divorce. “Fine, we can get a divorce,” I said, wiping away a tear, trying to keep my voice steady. “But you walk away with nothing.” Isla didn’t hesitate for a second. “Done. No problem.” After he said it, he couldn’t wait. He rushed home and handed me the divorce agreement. After signing, I held my back and went to my room, unable to look at his disgusting face for another second. As I walked away, he looked at my heavy, cumbersome back and suddenly spoke. “You know, Beth, sometimes I almost feel sorry for you.” I froze, not understanding what he meant. He must have thought he had my attention, because his voice grew more excited. “You don’t know, do you? I’ve already secured the deal with Sterling Corp. Mr. Sterling is very impressed with me. Once this project is signed, the company I’m starting on my own will see its assets multiply thirtyfold in less than six months. So what if you make me leave with nothing now? The moment that contract is signed, I’ll be the youngest tech billionaire in the city.” “At the signing ceremony tomorrow, Mia will be there by my side as the new woman of the company. Try not to get too jealous.” It all clicked into place. No wonder he had agreed to the divorce so easily. He thought he was finally independent, about to ascend to a new social stratum. It seemed I had forgotten to tell him one small detail. The owner of Sterling Corp, Mr. Sterling, was my father’s best friend. He was investing as a favor to me. At the signing ceremony tomorrow, when my “Uncle Sterling” saw that the niece he had doted on since she was a child had been replaced… I wasn’t sure Isla would be able to handle the shock.

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  • A Medal of Honor

    The billionaire playboy demanded each of his bodyguards violate my sister. When I called the police, he counter-sued, claiming she forced herself on twenty of his men. Furious, I took him to court. But my wife, a forensic doctor, produced a report stating my sister had no injuries! To cover up the truth, they cremated my sister’s body, destroying the evidence and killing her unborn child. Only then did I learn that the billionaire and my wife had been having an affair. “It’s just a little slut who died. Why are you clinging to me?” “Since you don’t know how to behave, I’ll teach you how a dog should listen!” To force me to give up, they broke both my legs. And beat my paralyzed brother-in-law into a vegetative state. In my despair, I found a box full of medals in my brother-in-law’s closet. It turned out he was paralyzed while executing a secret mission, and his parents had sacrificed their lives for the country. A family of heroes! I hugged the medals and my sister’s ashes, pushed my vegetative brother-in-law in his wheelchair, and knelt at the gate of the military base: “My sister and her unborn child are dead… my brother-in-law beaten into a vegetable… The Sterling family treats human lives like grass! I demand an investigation!” I refused to believe that a box full of medals couldn’t exchange for justice! 1 In the courtroom, Bella pointed at me with indignation: “Jack, even if you want money, don’t be delusional! With Mr. Sterling’s status, how could he look at a cheap, vulgar… whore like your sister!” The thought of the countless wounds on my sister’s body, the word “SLUT” carved into her belly, and her mottled, infected lower body… I couldn’t control my anger anymore and slammed the “no injury” report on the table! “Bella, you were Lily’s sister-in-law! How can you humiliate her like this!” “It’s one thing not to help me, but how can you speak for Julian Sterling and those animals? And commit perjury for them!” Faced with my questioning, Bella showed no regret or guilt. Instead, her expression became firmer. “I guarantee the authenticity of this injury report with my career.” “Jack, I must remind you! I am a doctor first, then Lily’s sister-in-law.” “You want me to be an accomplice and slander Mr. Sterling? Sorry, I can’t do it.” “I have my professional ethics! In the face of justice, I must place righteousness above family!” The spectators whispered: “This guy clearly sees Mr. Sterling has money and wants to scam him. I’m tired of this drama!” “He and his sister are too stupid to target the Sterling heir. They really have some nerve.” “Thankfully Dr. Bella is upright and refused to give false testimony for them, or their scheme would have succeeded.” The discussions grew louder, all favoring Bella without exception. Julian Sterling smiled and handed over the withdrawal form: “Mr. Carter, if you really need money, our company needs a janitor. You can come.” The red string on his wrist was the one I knelt 9,999 steps in the rain to pray for Bella! I gripped the railing tightly, blood rushing to my head in rage, but I couldn’t say a word. It turns out when people are extremely angry, they really can’t speak. I snatched the withdrawal form, tore it to shreds, bit my tongue until it bled, and then gritted my teeth: “Dream on! I will absolutely, absolutely not withdraw the lawsuit!” Bella’s face was full of impatience: “Jack, stop grandstanding. Your sister forced herself on twenty bodyguards. It’s generous of them not to sue you.” Then, a surveillance video played: “Be good and obey me, or else…” “Give it to me… big brother, harder…” The dialogue was obscene and unbearable. The voice did sound like my sister; even I was dazed for a moment. I suddenly remembered Bella finding my sister a few days ago, recording her voice, saying she was preparing a special gift for her future nephew. Only now did I realize. This hellish humiliation and abuse was the so-called “gift.” “Jack, the facts are in front of you. Lily was promiscuous, and she brought this on herself!” “Mr. Sterling was kind enough to try and cover for your sister, but you are so ungrateful and bite the hand that feeds you. Don’t blame me for being ruthless!” Bella, expressionless, handed a thick stack of documents to the judge. Inside were screenshots of chat records between my sister and various men. Ambiguous and explicit. “She really was a public bus. I feel sorry for the bodyguards she forced herself on.” “Heard she was pregnant too. Who knows whose bastard it was.” “Dr. Bella did the right thing, placing justice above family.” The mockery in everyone’s eyes deepened. I shouted at the judge: “The surveillance video and chat records are forged! I request a re-investigation!” But all I got was laughter from the whole court. The judge ignored my request and dismissed my appeal on the spot. He even ordered me to raise $10 million within three days as compensation for mental damages to Julian Sterling and his bodyguards. Everyone stood up and cheered. Only I saw Julian turn to look at me, mouthing: “Your sister asked for it. Deserved!” Then he left the court with Bella, surrounded by bodyguards, heads held high. 2 I clenched my fists tightly, tears falling silently. In this moment, I felt a deep sense of powerlessness. But I didn’t believe Julian Sterling could truly cover the sky with one hand in this city! My sister was still in critical condition. As long as she woke up, she could tell the whole truth! But when I rushed to the hospital, I was told: “Mr. Carter, your sister is hemorrhaging and won’t last much longer…” “We had enough blood in the bank, but Mr. Sterling got a cut on his hand just now, and Dr. Bella urgently transferred all the blood in the city to him.” Ignoring my despair, I immediately begged the doctor: “I’ll find blood. Please, you must keep my sister alive!” Even if I had to kneel and beg Bella, I would get blood for my sister! But when I rushed to my wife’s office, I saw Bella flushed, sweating in Julian’s arms. “Bella, you really know how to have fun. Jack’s sister only knew how to cry and beg. Boring!” “Say, if your husband knew we were hooking up before you got married, would he go crazy?” Bella sneered: “He’ll never know. He’s an idiot!” “And that sister of his, not staying with her paralyzed husband, daring to provoke Mr. Sterling. She deserves to die!” So they had been together all along! No wonder Bella committed perjury for Julian! I wanted to rush in and kill them, but my sister was still waiting for me to save her. I gritted my teeth, clenched my fists, and pushed open the door. “Lily is hemorrhaging. Bella, can you spare some blood? I beg you…” Seeing me, Bella panicked for a second, but soon laughed again. “Spare blood? Does she deserve it?” “Using the blood bank for Mr. Sterling is proper use.” “Using it to save your sister, that… slut, is a waste of medical resources.” “Jack, I advise you to withdraw the lawsuit immediately. That way our marriage can continue.” I was about to continue begging when medical staff walked over holding a canister. “Dr. Bella, as per your instructions, Lily’s body has been cremated.” “Here are the ashes.” 3 Ashes? Whose ashes? I felt my head buzz, as if hit by a heavy bell, my whole body trembling. All these years, my sister treated Bella like her closest family. How could she be such a beast! I couldn’t suppress my anger anymore and rushed up to slap her hard! Bella fell to the ground. Julian hugged her painfully, kicked me away, and had his bodyguards break one of my legs. “Daring to hit my woman in front of me? You and your sister both have a death wish!” I was pinned down by my limbs, unable to move. Bella finally recovered, looking at me with icy eyes. “Jack, I gave you a chance. You didn’t take it.” “Mr. Sterling, didn’t you say your dog, Baller, has bad joints? Bone ash is rich in calcium.” Baller was Julian’s pet dog. My anxiety instantly peaked. “No!” I struggled frantically, nails scratching the floor, making shrill sounds, a tear of blood flowing from my eye. Bella hesitated for a moment, but soon looked angry again. I was pinned down like a dog. And my sister’s ashes were happily licked up by the dog. Only when the ashes were almost gone did Julian hold the dog with one hand and grab my hair with the other, Pressing my entire face into the remaining ashes. “Jack, remember this. You can’t mess with me!” “Next time, your ashes will end up the same way!” Tears and blood mixed on my face. “Can’t mess with you? Julian Sterling! One day! I will reveal the truth…” “You hurt my sister like this… I will make you pay in blood!” Before Julian could speak, Bella laughed: “Reveal the truth? Pay in blood?” “Jack, your sister is already in a dog’s belly. The evidence is gone. What do you have to reveal?” “If you’re smart, put away these thoughts. I can pretend nothing happened. Otherwise, I’ll divorce you!” With that, Bella took Julian’s arm and walked out. I lay on the ground, crying while carefully gathering the last bit of my sister’s ashes. Years ago, when my brother-in-law was paralyzed, it was Bella who operated and saved his life. After we married, my sister and I treated her like a savior. I never expected her to become this monster. In that case, there’s nothing left to cherish! 4 I took the remaining ashes of my sister to the police station. “I want to accuse Julian Sterling and Bella of disregarding human life! Julian raped my sister Lily! Bella covered for the criminal, fabricated injury reports, cremated my sister’s body without consent, and destroyed evidence!” “Officer, please give my sister justice!” But the next second, the officer looked at me with disdain. “Still not giving up?” “New trick? Even conjured up ashes?” He casually picked up a pinch of the ashes. Before I could stop him, he put it in his mouth and smacked his lips: “This is milk powder, right?” “Trying to frame Mr. Sterling, you need some skill. This is too clumsy!” I was completely stunned and roared: “You are protecting a murderer and rapist!” The officer sneered. Without a word, his colleagues dragged me out. They beat me in a blind spot of the surveillance cameras, then threw me out of the station. “I won’t give up!” “Since you protect Julian and them, I’ll go higher!” I spat out a mouthful of blood and gritted my teeth. “Go higher? The Sterlings are the sky in this city. Julian is the Crown Prince!” “Stop dreaming!” With that, the officer ignored me and left. I endured the pain and returned home. Just as I settled my sister’s ashes, my phone rang. “Mr. Carter, your brother-in-law wants to see you…” It was the nursing home. I rushed over immediately. While I was hesitating on how to tell him about my sister, a familiar voice from the room made my hair stand on end. It was Julian! I pushed the door open to see Julian whipping my brother-in-law with a leather belt. I tried to stop him but was blocked by bodyguards. “Jack, this is the price for going to the police!” “Looks like you didn’t listen to my warning!” “Mistakes have prices. Your paralyzed brother-in-law is a burden anyway. I’ll help you solve it!” Another heavy lash. My heart seized in pain. “Julian, stop it!” “Killing my sister wasn’t enough, now you want to kill him too?” “Are you human?!” I roared anxiously. But it was useless. My struggles were in vain as I watched my brother-in-law lose consciousness. “What a waste. Can’t even take a beating. Boring.” Seeing him pass out, Julian tossed the belt aside, laughing contemptuously. Then he hugged Bella, ready to leave. I rushed to press the emergency bell, completely desperate: “Bella, are you human?” “This is your brother-in-law! The patient you saved ten years ago!” “How can you watch Julian beat him like this!” My words made Bella pause. She turned back, speaking coldly: “Paralyzed for ten years, living is meaningless. Only fools like you and your sister can’t let go.” “If you hadn’t courted death by going to the police, we wouldn’t bother with this cripple!” Perhaps feeling she was too harsh, Bella added: “He’s a burden. Better off dead.” “Jack, just a brother-in-law. Why care so much?” “I said, as long as you let this go, we can live happily like before.” I laughed in anger. Today, I truly recognized the shamelessness of the woman before me. “Bella, let’s divorce!” As if hearing a hilarious joke, Bella laughed out loud, glancing at me: “Jack, you’re hopeless. Calm down!” With that, she left without looking back. Doctors resuscitated him. His life was saved, but he became a vegetable. Chance of waking up: slim to none. After his vitals stabilized, I went to my sister’s house to get some supplies. In the stairwell, I saw the walls covered in graffiti: “Whore,” “Slut,” and other insults. “You’re her brother, right? Should have taught her better.” “Lily looked so quiet. Didn’t expect her to do such shameful things.” “Fix this mess! Apologize to Mr. Sterling properly. Don’t affect us neighbors!” The neighbor across the hall poked her head out, tone impatient. I didn’t speak, closing the door. Apologize to Julian? Ridiculous! My phone vibrated. A text from Bella. “Thought it through? Come apologize to me and Mr. Sterling!” “Mr. Sterling is someone you can’t mess with. Stop wasting effort. If you really anger him, don’t blame me for not helping you!” I sneered, didn’t reply, and blocked Bella. Can’t mess with? Wasting effort? I don’t believe it! I don’t believe this world only has protection for the powerful and no justice for the ordinary! While packing my brother-in-law’s things, I accidentally knocked over a metal box deep in the closet. Dozens of medals spilled out. Medal of Honor, Silver Star, Purple Heart… And certificates in red folders. Only after going through everything did I realize tears covered my face. My brother-in-law was paralyzed while on a classified mission. His parents sacrificed their lives for the country. A family of heroes! These medals, these certificates, were proof! Trembling, I closed the box and held it, pushing the urns of my sister and brother-in-law (figuratively, since he’s alive but vegetative), and knelt at the gate of the military base. This was the supreme honor my brother-in-law’s family exchanged their lives and blood for. Now, it became the last straw for me to seek justice for my murdered sister, my vegetative brother-in-law, and their unborn child! “My sister and her unborn child dead… my brother-in-law beaten into a vegetable… The Sterling family treats human lives like grass! I demand an investigation!” I don’t believe it! A box of medals can’t buy the truth!

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  • Shadows on the Yacht

    After my ex-husband Liam’s mentor’s daughter was diagnosed with pregnancy, he filed for divorce. “It’s just for show, to protect her reputation. Don’t overthink it,” he said. Even our son chimed in, “We should be grateful, Mom. Besides, that’s Dad’s baby too. Don’t make things difficult for him.” Everyone expected me to cause a scene. Instead, I nodded silently. I signed the papers quickly, then married Luke, the man who once saved my life. In my past life, I refused to divorce. Liam and our son abandoned me and fled the country. I became a laughingstock and never recovered. So in this life, I divorced him calmly and vanished from their world. Six years later, at an exclusive yacht party for the elite. Liam and our son pushed through the dancing crowd and grabbed my wrist, furious. “I told you it was just for show! Where the hell have you been all these years?” I was surprised. The next second, my little daughter ran into my arms. “Mommy, who are you talking to? Daddy is looking for you.” Chapter 1 When I saw Liam again, I was wearing a satin mermaid gown, sipping champagne on the deck. I had been working on design drafts until late last night and didn’t want to show my face. But as the hostess of the yacht, I had to make an appearance. I sighed. Before the glass could reach my lips, rapid footsteps approached from behind. The next second, I was spun around. Liam and I froze. His pupils contracted, voice full of disbelief: “Joy, it really is you! Where have you been all these years?” My expression remained cool. Before I could answer, Chloe exclaimed dramatically: “Joy! You’re so thin now! I remember you used to be too fat to be seen in public.” Beside her, our son, Noah, chuckled. He had grown taller in the years apart. But the arrogant look on his face mirrored Chloe’s perfectly. He understood Chloe’s implication and laughed, “Chloe, you’re teasing her again. But what’s the point? She can’t be a model anyway.” Noah’s tone was filled with disdain, just like countless times before. Mocking my weight, my intelligence, calling me “just a housewife” with no charm. But before marriage, I was a rising star in the fashion world. Major runways extended olive branches, begging for my designs. After marriage, everything changed. Liam constantly criticized me for not being home. He brainwashed me into believing a career woman couldn’t be a good wife or mother. One day, he secretly emailed my partners, claiming I was retiring. I woke up and screamed, crying like a madwoman. He calmly told me to relax. From that day on, I was a bird with clipped wings, devoted entirely to the household. In the seventh year, he cheated with his mentor’s daughter. He said she was dazzling and reignited his passion. As I was lost in memories, Chloe giggled delicately. “Joy, even if you can’t be a model, don’t feel inferior. You could apply to be a hostess.” “A friend of mine is a hotel manager hiring hostesses. Three thousand a month. Want me to introduce you?” Noah laughed again. “Chloe, stop. My mom is so sensitive, she might cry.” He pointed proudly at the stage nearby. “Chloe was invited to walk the runway today for a very famous designer.” I froze, almost laughing out loud. Chapter 2 Because I was that designer. This show was the warm-up for my husband Luke’s business event. We invited well-known models. I had scanned the list; Chloe’s name wasn’t on it. Then it hit me. One model had an emergency. Chloe must be a last-minute replacement. But looking at the time, I raised my eyes from my watch and said flatly, “Shouldn’t you be backstage prepping?” Chloe’s face stiffened, offended by my tone. “Don’t pretend you know anything. Do you know more than me? It’s still early!” I frowned. With such an unprofessional attitude, no wonder she hadn’t made a splash in years. Seeing me alone, Chloe clung to Liam’s arm, whining: “Is Joy in trouble? It’s not easy to get on this yacht.” “I heard people buy scalped tickets to sneak in and fish for rich husbands.” Her words were loaded. Liam looked at me with complex emotions, eyeing my dress. He sounded almost sad. “Joy, that dress isn’t something you can afford. Did you rent it? Or borrow it?” He pulled out a card and handed it to me. “There’s twenty thousand here. You’re the mother of my child. I can’t watch you go astray.” “I thought you left so decisively because you had somewhere better to go. I didn’t expect…” His voice trailed off with condescending pity. Chloe covered her mouth, laughing. “Maybe it’s a knockoff. Don’t be embarrassed, Joy. This money is nothing to us, but it should help you look less pathetic.” Just as she finished, a young female voice interrupted. “That’s not a knockoff. You can tell by the craftsmanship and fabric. Plus, it’s the latest design from Yian, very hard to get.” Chloe’s face fell. She turned to rage, but saw it was an old acquaintance, Nina. Nina was delighted and hugged her. “Darling! I can’t believe I ran into you! How have you been? I lost touch after you got pregnant.” She looked at Noah, puzzled. “Is this your son? The age doesn’t seem right?” Chloe’s expression froze. She forced a smile. Her voice was strained. “There was an accident. I lost the baby.” I was surprised, yet not. Liam had low sperm quality. I hid it to protect his ego. I secretly took injections to maintain my pregnancy, suffering a hemorrhage during birth. Liam didn’t comfort me. Instead, he berated me during my recovery. I cried for three days until my vision blurred, realizing I couldn’t cry anymore. The past was a dirty rag. I sighed internally and pushed it away. Nina laughed awkwardly, offered condolences, and left. I checked the time, planning to leave. Suddenly, Chloe grabbed my arm, nails digging into my skin. Her face crumbled into hatred. “Hearing I lost the baby, you’re happy, aren’t you?” “It’s all your fault! Liam was never home, looking for you! That’s why I got stressed and miscarried! You murderer!” I pushed her away reflexively, stunned. He was looking for me? Why? In my past life, wasn’t he the one desperate for a divorce? Besides, her miscarriage had nothing to do with me. The sperm quality was poor to begin with. And she dieted excessively. Losing the baby was her own doing. Chapter 3 I looked at the scratches on my arm. Blood was surfacing. My skin is pale; Luke would notice immediately. With his protective nature, I feared trouble. But the next second, Liam angrily blocked my path. He helped the tear-streaked Chloe up and snapped at me, “Joy, apologize!” I trembled, memories flooding back. Once, I put too much salt in dinner. Chloe burst into tears. She claimed I was jealous of her figure and trying to make her fat. Without a word, Liam pinned me to the floor like a dog without dignity. The past was vivid. My nails dug into my palms. But times have changed. I won’t let anyone throw dirt on me. I scoffed, spitting out two words: “Dream on.” Noah stopped wiping Chloe’s tears. He yelled at me in disappointment: “You’re so vicious and unrepentant! I don’t have a mother like you!” He had said this many times. Birthing him was hard, so I always cherished him. I silently agreed to his unreasonable demands. He thought he could still threaten me. He was wrong. Looking at his stubborn, smug face, I said calmly: “Whatever. You have more than one mom anyway.” Noah froze. He opened his mouth, panic in his eyes, tears welling up. Then, he exploded, ripping the amulet from his neck. He threw it into the sea. Then he wailed. “I don’t want you anymore! You’re a bad woman!” I was dazed for a moment. I got that amulet for him when he was six. He always called it tacky and refused to wear it, often losing it at home. Why was he wearing it now? Chloe hugged him, comforting him. “Noah, I’m your mother now. That bitch doesn’t deserve to be your mom.” She turned to me, eyes glinting maliciously. “Joy, you don’t have an entry badge. Must be a scalped ticket. I was going to let you off, but since you’re shameless, don’t blame me.” She raised her hand to call security. I didn’t move. Joke’s on her. This yacht is in my name, a gift from Luke. Who dares touch me? But the next second, a hand firmly pressed hers down. Liam looked at me with complex emotions, then whispered something to Chloe. Chloe looked at him in disbelief, face full of resentment. Finally, she nodded reluctantly. Liam’s face softened. He turned to speak to me. But Chloe wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Liam froze, glancing at me instinctively. I showed no emotion. His eyes darkened, and he kissed her back hard. Just then, my phone rang. Before I answered, Liam’s eyes lit up. Surprise colored his voice. “You still listen to this song?” I paused, confused, then remembered. This was “our song” from years ago. I had forgotten. I set it as my ringtone because I liked it. But clearly, Liam misunderstood. His eyes sparkled, wanting to say something. I ignored him and answered the phone. Luke’s magnetic voice came through: “Joy, where are you? The show is starting. We need to go on stage.” I smiled involuntarily, humming a soft yes. “I’m coming. Hanging up now.” Chapter 4 Before my smile could fade, my wrist was seized. “Who is that man?” Liam’s jaw was tight, suppressing a volcano. After hours of drama, I had enough. I shook off his hand and walked away quickly. Chloe grabbed Liam as he tried to pursue. She mocked loudly, “Look, she’s guilty! Running away like a thief. Liam, ignore the slut!” The voices faded. I didn’t even look back. At the staircase, my daughter ran into my arms. “Mommy, who were you talking to? Daddy is looking for you!” I tapped her nose. “Mommy has a mission for you. I need to touch up my makeup. Can you tell Daddy to come find me?” “Okay!” She chirped and ran off. I continued up to the second floor. Suddenly… Security guards swarmed the stairwell. Chloe stood behind them, shouting: “That’s her! The stowaway!” The guards approached, voices stern. “Miss, please show your entry badge.” As the owner, I didn’t need one. I rubbed my temples. “Who is your supervisor? Get him.” Chloe laughed mockingly. “Joy, stop pretending. You’re dead meat. Get off the boat!” Since meeting, she provoked me repeatedly. I ignored her. Now, I realized there was no need to be polite. I opened my phone to make a call, but Chloe snatched it away. She looked at me triumphantly. “Trying to call Liam for help? Dream on! Shameless bitch, hooking up everywhere.” She turned to the guards. “Throw her off! People like her are a plague on this ship!” Afraid of offending a guest, the guards advanced. “Miss, you cannot be here without proof. Please disembark immediately.” Two pincer-like hands twisted my arms behind my back, pressing me down like a criminal. Pain shot through me. I broke into a sweat, teeth chattering. “Let go! I own this yacht!” The guards paused, loosening their grip. Chloe burst out laughing. “Security, she’s playing you! Why would the owner be on the first floor? They’re on the upper deck!” She looked me up and down with disdain. “Look at her. Would a rich man want her?” Chloe’s voice was shrill. A crowd gathered. Afraid of trouble, the guards tightened their grip again, dragging me roughly. I struggled, freeing one arm to grab the wall. “Let me make a call! I really am—” Before I could finish, the guard interrupted impatiently. “Crazy woman, stop talking nonsense! Get out!” He yanked my arm, throwing me to the ground. My hair came loose. My ankle cracked as I fell. Piercing pain radiated through my body. My face went white, and I screamed. My phone rang. Chloe looked at it, then threw it into the sea. I stared, wide-eyed. That was Luke’s gift, containing important, unbacked-up files. Seeing my glare, Chloe flew into a rage, raising her hand to slap me. The next second, a hand caught her wrist.

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  • My Neighbor Claims My Bed Shaking Caused Her Baby’s Heart Attack

    At ten o’clock at night, my neighbor from next door, whose screen name was StillWaters, suddenly tagged me in the resident group chat: 【To the fucking bitch in 705, can you tone it down a little? The whole building is supposed to listen to your bedsprings squeal all night? Are you trying to keep everyone awake?】 【My baby has a congenital heart defect. If you wake him up again, I’ll kill your whole family!】 I quickly tried to explain that I lived alone, but she refused to believe me. After a few patient attempts, I gave up and ignored her. I never imagined that two weeks later, she would burst into my apartment with a knife and stab me eighteen times. As I collapsed in a pool of my own blood, she kept slashing like a madwoman, her screams tearing through the air. “This is all your fault! My baby died last night! You’ll pay for his life with yours!” My vision blurred, and I lost consciousness. Even in death, I couldn’t understand how I had ever harmed her child. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very day she had cursed me in the group chat. Faced with her familiar tirade, I didn’t back down. This time, I shot back with fury: “Stop your goddamn crazy talk! Your baby died three years ago!” 1 After I sent the message, the once-lively group chat fell silent. A few minutes later, my neighbor exploded: 【What the hell are you talking about, you whore? My baby is about to turn one! How dare you curse my child to die!】 【Everyone see this? The bitch in 705 can’t have kids of her own, so she’s cursing other people’s!】 The other residents saw our exchange and immediately jumped to her defense: 【706, that’s way out of line. How could you say something so horrible about a child?】 Another person tried to placate her: 【Linda, calm down. We’re all neighbors here. Let’s just talk this out peacefully.】 That only made Linda angrier: 【Talk peacefully my ass! What is there to say to a slut like her? She’s just jealous that my baby is happy and healthy!】 【My baby has a heart condition! It’s a miracle he’s made it to his first birthday. The doctor said we have to be extremely careful!】 【And this whore? She’s shaking her bed like there’s no tomorrow! If anything happens to my son, she’ll be the first person I kill!】 The other neighbors piled on, their accusations aimed at me: 【Linda has a point. It’s late. You two should show some restraint.】 【Yeah, it’s ten o’clock. Give it a rest!】 Reading their messages, I felt a wave of absurdity wash over me. I’d lived in 705 alone since the day I moved in. There was no man in my apartment. As for Linda next door, her baby had died shortly after birth. How could I, with a non-existent man, possibly disturb the sleep of a child who was already dead? Just as I was about to explain, Linda started spamming the chat again: 【Are you starting up again, you bitch? Will you die if you don’t get fucked for one night?】 【Are you doing this on purpose? You don’t want my baby to live, do you? He’s fought so hard to survive, and you’re trying to kill him!】 【If he has a heart attack because of you, can you take responsibility for that?】 A few other neighbors chimed in, their messages dripping with annoyance. 【705, her kid has a heart condition. Do you really have to pick on a sick child?】 【Exactly. Linda’s a single mom, it’s not easy. The least you could do is be considerate, but instead, you curse her child.】 In my past life, I had explained over and over that I lived alone, but no one listened. Instead, Linda’s harassment escalated. I called building management, I called the police, but nothing worked. Finally, I’d had enough and went to stay with my best friend for a few days. When I returned, Linda forced her way into my apartment with a knife and murdered me. Even now, whenever I close my eyes, I can see her deranged face. The fury inside me finally boiled over. I switched to voice memo and sent a message to the group, my voice shaking with rage: “Can you just leave me the hell alone?! Your child is already dead!” 2 The group chat went silent for several seconds. I thought she’d finally shut up, but then a frantic pounding erupted at my front door. I looked through the peephole and saw Linda, her eyes wide with fury, screaming at my door. “You bitch, you’re asking for it! How dare you say my baby is dead!” “I just got him back to sleep, and you say that! Are you trying to kill him on purpose?” “If anything happens to my baby, I’ll kill you!” The commotion brought other neighbors out of their apartments. They immediately started pointing fingers at me. “Vera, you’ve gone too far! Linda’s baby is barely a year old. Have some decency!” “Exactly! You’ll have kids of your own one day. How would you feel if someone said something so vile about them?” “Picking on a baby… you’re just asking for bad karma!” Linda was still hammering on my door, her eyes bulging as if she wanted to tear me apart with her bare hands. “You goddamn bitch! Slut! Why are you cursing my son?” “I’m going to kill you! I’m going to kill your whole family!” Her shrieks were piercing, drilling into my eardrums and making the late-night hallway feel terrifyingly cold. The memory of being falsely accused and then stabbed to death by this lunatic made my body tremble uncontrollably. When she screamed about killing my family, I snapped. I yanked the door open and slapped her hard across the face. “Shut the hell up! Where is this baby of yours? How come I don’t hear him crying?” “Bring your precious baby out here right now. Let me see him with my own eyes, and I will gladly be your free nanny for life!” The slap stunned her. She froze for a few seconds, then lunged at me with her nails out. I quickly dodged back into my apartment and stuck my foot out, tripping her. As the memory of my own murder flooded my mind, a fresh wave of rage consumed me. I sat on her back, grabbed her hair, and started pulling. “You like to scream? You like to bang on my door? Let’s see what you’ve got now!” Pinned beneath me, Linda could only let out strangled shrieks. “Vera, you’re an animal! This is insane! I’m calling the police!” Her cries brought the neighbors running. They swarmed in, pulling us apart and calling for the building manager. I glared at Linda, still breathing heavily, my anger far from satisfied. By my calculation, I had only been reborn for about an hour. An hour ago, I had been murdered by this very woman. How was I supposed to stay calm? But as the others held me back, they all turned on me. “Vera, you were already in the wrong, and now you’re getting physical? You think you can bully a single mother just because she’s alone?” “I never realized we had such a vicious person living on our floor!” “I’ve already called management! If you keep this up, we’re calling the cops and letting them handle it!” 3 Freed from my grip, Linda’s arrogance returned. She gritted her teeth and slapped me twice across the face, the sound echoing so loudly in the hallway that all the motion-activated lights flickered on. “You bitch! You disturb my child’s sleep, and then you dare to hit me! This is what you get!” I struggled to fight back, but the neighbors held me tight. “Are you still trying to fight? Just calm down!” Linda taunted me, her insults growing viler by the second, while the other neighbors scolded me for my lack of public decency. One woman, holding a small child, looked at me with pure hatred. “You’re a grown woman! Have you no shame? You woke up every child on this floor! Are any of us supposed to get any sleep?” “Linda is a single mother, and her baby has a heart condition! Who can stand you making all this trouble?” I fought against their grip, shouting back, “How many times do I have to explain? I live alone! What bed am I shaking? Am I shaking it with a ghost?” “And another thing—she says I woke her baby. Has a single one of you ever actually seen her baby?” My words gave them pause. A flicker of doubt crossed their faces. But Linda quickly retorted, “I just fed my baby! He’s sleeping soundly in his room right now!” I laughed coldly. “A minute ago, you said I was shaking the bed and keeping him awake. Now you’re out here screaming your head off, and suddenly he can sleep through it?” Everyone froze. The mother holding her child muttered to herself, “My baby is a pretty deep sleeper, but her kid is supposed to be sensitive to noise. How did he not cry through all that commotion?” Just then, the building manager rushed over. Hearing the argument, he immediately stepped in. “Ms. Linda, the sound you’re hearing might be coming from the aging wooden structures in your own apartment.” “If it’s convenient, we can come in and check for you now, so it doesn’t disturb the baby’s rest.” Linda, who had been so aggressive just moments before, suddenly went silent. After a long pause, she said reluctantly, “Come back tomorrow. My baby is already asleep. You’ll just wake him up with all your banging around.” I wasn’t about to let her off that easily. “I think you’re just hiding something. I’ve lived here for months, and I have never once seen your child!” Linda grabbed my arm. “You keep saying my baby is dead. Fine. Let me ask you this: if my baby is sleeping peacefully in his room, what will you do then?” I didn’t hesitate. “If your baby is in there, I will move out of this complex immediately. I guarantee you won’t hear another peep from me!” Linda turned to the others. “You all heard her! She said it herself!” With that, she dragged me into her apartment. “Fine! I’ll let you see him with your own eyes!” The neighbors and I followed her inside. The moment we stepped through the door, we were hit by the strong smell of milk. The living room table was cluttered with baby formula and half-empty bottles. Tiny clothes hung on a drying rack on the balcony. We walked into the bedroom. A crib, a mobile, soft floor mats, and padded corner guards—it was a perfect nursery. For a moment, I started to doubt myself. Did Linda really have a baby? She yanked me over to the crib. “Take a good look! Isn’t my baby right there?” I peered into the crib and was struck dumb. Linda was gloating. “You all heard her! Vera is getting kicked out of this building!” After she finished, she glanced into the crib herself. And then, with a choked gasp, she collapsed to the floor. Because the crib was completely empty. 4 Linda scrambled back to her feet and started tearing the room apart, muttering frantically, “Where’s my baby? Baby, where did you go?” She searched every inch of the room, but there was no child. The mother from the hallway tried to comfort her. “Linda, think carefully. Did you maybe move the baby somewhere else? A one-year-old can’t climb out of a crib by himself.” At her words, something seemed to click in Linda’s mind. Her eyes lit up. “Right! Someone must have taken him just now!” She spun around and grabbed my shoulders. “Aha! I knew it! I was wondering where your lover was. He must have snuck in and run off with my baby while we were arguing!” “Vera, if you’ve done anything to my son, I’ll kill you!” She screamed for the manager to lock down the complex. Security guards and the neighbors who knew what was happening joined the search. For over half an hour, thirty or forty people scoured the property, but they found no trace of anyone suspicious. The manager tried to calm Linda down. “Don’t worry. If the child is still in the complex, we’ll find him. If not, we have to call the police.” Linda shook her head violently. “No! We can’t call the police! It will scare the baby! My baby has a congenital heart defect!” The manager frowned. “But this is serious. You have to tell your family. What about your husband?” Linda’s reaction was even more extreme. “No! I can’t tell him yet! The baby isn’t one year old! I wanted it to be a surprise!” Her words left everyone baffled. Everyone except me. I sensed something was deeply wrong. I spoke up, my voice firm. “Her baby is no longer in this complex. You could turn this place upside down and you still wouldn’t find him.” The manager’s face flushed with anger. “Did you really take her child? Do you have any idea that kidnapping is a serious crime?” A male neighbor, his face twisted in disgust, slapped me hard across the face. “You animal! This is all because Linda interrupted you and your lover, isn’t it? This is your revenge!” Hearing this, Linda lunged at me, grabbing my arms in a death grip. “You bitch! My baby is so small, and he has a heart condition! How could you be so evil?” “Tell me, where is my baby?!” I gritted my teeth. “I told you. Your baby is already dead.” A collective gasp went through the crowd. They all assumed I had killed the child. They spat insults at me, calling me a heartless monster, completely ignoring my attempts to explain. Finally, the manager said, “We have to call the police.” The police arrived quickly. The neighbor across the hall from Linda provided security footage from his doorway camera. The video showed the entire sequence of events, from Linda banging on my door until the moment her “baby” disappeared. No one had entered her apartment. Next, the building management pulled footage from all the main gates. No one was seen leaving the complex with a child. After a thorough investigation, the police found no evidence that Linda’s child had been taken. In fact, over the past month, the only person seen entering or leaving her apartment was Linda herself. There was never any sign of a baby. All eyes turned back to me. Because from the very beginning, I was the only one who had been saying that Linda’s child was already dead.

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  • Her Emperors Disposable Toy

    Seven months into the sickness that was slowly hollowing me out, I asked Vivian Shaw for a divorce. She didn’t even grant me a flicker of her emerald eyes, keeping them glued to the documents she was reviewing. “A reason?” I slid an Asset Transfer Agreement across the mahogany desk toward her. The edges of the paper were worn, and the date was three months before our wedding. Multi-billion dollar controlling shares in the Shaw Group, three European villas, a private island in the Caribbean. All gratuitously signed over to my stepbrother, Rhys Alden. The only thing I’d received, all those years ago, was a cold, brutal prenuptial agreement. I signed it, stepping into the Shaw estate with nothing, not even a penny from Vivian’s considerable dowry. For a decade, the limit on my corporate allowance card was five hundred dollars a month. Now, even a hospital stay required stringent financial planning. Finally, she put the file down and looked at me. A flash of something that might have been concern—a brief flicker of warmth—crossed her face, only to be immediately sealed over by her customary frost. “This expired, voided agreement? Ethan Bellweather, since when have you become so dramatic about paperwork?” I looked at the woman I had loved for fifteen years. In her eyes, I didn’t even have the right to be hurt. I didn’t cry. I didn’t raise my voice. I was unnervingly calm. “Vivian,” I said. “I’ll have the divorce papers drafted and sent over in a few days.” Then I turned and walked out, pulling my cell phone out to call the medical center. “Hello, I’d like to schedule my surgery for one week from today.” 1 The appointment confirmation pinged in immediately. Looking at the scheduled time on the screen, a spasm of pain shot through my abdomen, involuntary and sharp. I braced myself against the bedroom wall and slowly sank to the floor, fighting back tears as I messaged my attorney. He called me back instantly. “Mr. Bellweather, are you truly determined to waive all marital assets and walk away with absolutely nothing?” “You are entitled to at least fifty percent of…” Marital assets? I couldn’t stop the bitter, hollow laugh that escaped me. There were no marital assets. Vivian’s equity growth over the years was held in blind trusts, and every asset in her name had been legally notarized pre-marriage. My name was nowhere on the beneficiary list for the family trust. She’d mentioned it casually the day we got engaged: she would never marry a man who was dependent on her fortune. She wouldn’t hand over what she had fought so hard to inherit just because of a marriage certificate. At the time, I assumed it was her anger at her father for forcing her into the marriage with me. I also understood the immense battle she’d fought to secure the Shaw Group against her swarm of illegitimate siblings. So, I had dutifully signed every page of the thick stack of financial waivers. I thought that one day she would lower her guard and truly see me. But it wasn’t until I saw that Asset Transfer Agreement that I realized how foolish I’d been. Every single item on that transfer agreement perfectly matched the list of assets she had made me sign away at the notary’s office. She wasn’t unwilling to share her wealth; she just never intended for me to be the husband she shared it with. “Ms. Reed,” I interrupted my attorney. “Please prepare the divorce agreement. I only ask for a clean break. No assets.” My hand was still shaking when I hung up. It wasn’t hesitation. It was fury. Ten years of marriage felt like a long, elaborate fraud, and I had been the willing fool. The password to the hidden safe in Vivian’s study was Rhys Alden’s birthday. She was willing to give Rhys everything she owned, yet my monthly allowance never exceeded five hundred. Even when I was too sick to eat, throwing up until I was dizzy and weak, she was across the city at Rhys’s private art exhibit. The most pathetic part? I had designed their love nest with my own hands. Three months ago, Vivian had slapped a set of blueprints on my bedside table, forcing my feverish, weakened body out of bed to work. “A friend is gifting his partner a villa. Design it to the highest standard, and fast,” she’d commanded. Now it was clear that “friend” was herself. And the signature at the bottom of the resident form, a bold, sweeping “RA,” was clearly Rhys Alden’s initials. The divorce agreement arrived via courier just before sunset. My attorney made one last plea: “Mr. Bellweather, at least keep the income you earned during the marriage…” I shook my head. Vivian never contributed a dime to the household; my entire income over the years had been sunk into the maintenance and upkeep of her property. Now, I realized that in her eyes, my contribution—my life—was truly worthless. A fresh wave of pain surged through me as I signed the papers. I couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears finally fell. 2 That same afternoon, Ms. Reed helped me secure a small apartment. I didn’t care about the neighborhood or the floor plan; I just needed to move out immediately. It was eight o’clock when I returned to the Shaw mansion for the last time. The fatigue from my illness made it nearly impossible to stand straight, but I cooked one final dinner. A four-course meal, all her favorites. For ten years, I knew her tastes better than I knew my own. Regardless of the ending, fifteen years of my life had been tied to hers. I wanted a clean, peaceful finish. But it was past one in the morning when Vivian finally returned. She carried the cloying scent of Santal—Rhys Alden’s signature cologne—and the unmistakable shadow of a hickey, brazenly marking the base of her throat. I watched her movements, and my gaze caught on her left hand. Her ring finger was bare. She had taken our wedding band off. I didn’t know when. Her eyes landed on the untouched, cold meal on the dining table, and her brow furrowed—a habit born of impatience. There was no warmth in her expression, only clear, visible annoyance. “Another pity party? You think this will make me roll over?” She shrugged off her trench coat, tossing it carelessly onto the designer sofa, and moved to walk past me. “Vivian,” I called out. My voice was so calm it surprised even me. “The divorce agreement is on the table. Sign it.” She stopped dead, turning back with a look of derision that nearly spilled over. “Because of an expired piece of paper? Ethan, since when have you been so irrational?” “Your father coerced me into marrying you using a life debt. I had no choice but to agree.” “Rhys has a bad heart. I simply wanted to give him a blessing, a formality!” A blessing? A formality? How absurd. Two weightless words that negated all my suffering and all my devotion. I suddenly understood that the barrier between us for the last decade was not circumstance or family obligation. It was simply that she had never loved me. Fifteen years ago, on a rainy night, she was being hunted by her vicious half-siblings. I hid her in a storage room for three days. I was the one who snuck her food and medicine, nearly getting beaten to death by her pursuers myself. She had gripped my hand and promised: “Ethan, when I take control of the Shaw Group, I will marry you in a ceremony that will make headlines.” And she did. She took the reins of the Shaw Group with ruthless, thunderous efficiency. But she married me with the coldest, most calculated prenuptial agreement ever penned, calling that the “ceremony that made headlines.” “Vivian,” I slowly stood up, fighting the sharp ache in my side. “So you do remember that you owe me a life.” She froze for a moment, then let out a chilling laugh. “Oh, so we’re tallying up the scores now? Fine. Name your price. How much?” Name my price. A bitter smile touched my lips, and the last, warm corner of my heart finally went entirely cold. “It won’t be necessary, Vivian. I am done with this relationship.” “I want the signed divorce agreement on the living room table by nine a.m. tomorrow.” I used every ounce of strength to keep my voice steady. Then, without waiting to see her reaction, I turned and headed upstairs. Behind me, the silence was shattered by the violent sound of shattering porcelain and her low, furious roar: “Ethan Bellweather! You had better not regret this!” Regret? My only regret was opening that storage room door fifteen years ago on a rainy night. 3 When I went downstairs the next morning, the living room was empty. The divorce papers had been ripped into confetti and were scattered across the expensive, hand-woven rug. My heart seized at the sight of the shredded paper, but the panic quickly subsided into a dull, familiar numbness. That was Vivian’s answer. She was too arrogant to negotiate and too controlling to let go. My phone screen lit up with a new message. It was from Rhys Alden. He had suddenly re-added me on social media a month ago. His first message: “Ethan, long time no see. I’m back. Vivian picked me up at the airport. She hasn’t changed a bit, has she?” Since then, my phone had become the live-stream of his perfect happiness. A blurry picture of Vivian’s back at the art gallery. A candid shot of her putting food on his plate. A deliberately visible half-arm in the passenger seat of her car. And yesterday, he’d sent a voice note. In the background, I could clearly hear Vivian impatiently hanging up on someone. “Ethan Bellweather? Ignore him. He’s always making a scene. Just focus on your painting.” The last message was ten minutes old. A photo. Vivian was asleep in his bed, her profile peaceful against his familiar dark sheets. The caption: “Ethan, I hear you were going through Vivian’s study and upset her? Don’t worry, that agreement was just something she gave me years ago when I was sick, to cheer me up. It’s totally void. Don’t take it the wrong way.” “Oh, and you really remind me of the old me, especially your eyes. Vivian said that’s the first thing she noticed about you.” “By the way, how is your body? Vivian says you’re getting more and more disgusting these days.” A wave of icy nausea slammed into my throat. I bolted into the bathroom and dry-heaved violently. The illness had never made me feel as physically sick as I did in that moment. I gripped the sink, staring at my pale, red-rimmed face in the mirror. My eyes… they were the reason? Because they resembled his? Fifteen years of first love, ten years of marriage, all originated in one woman’s unfulfilled obsession with another man. And I was merely the clumsy, second-best replacement. The tears I had suppressed finally burst forth. They ran down my cheeks, hot and heavy. With a trembling hand, I typed a reply to Rhys. “You always liked picking up my leftovers. Keep her. Both of you.” The message sent. Almost immediately, Vivian’s phone call came through. I didn’t answer. I ended the call, then blocked her number. The world instantly went quiet. I pressed my hand to my tightening abdomen, inhaling deeply, forcing myself to regain composure. This was not the time for grief. I called the moving company I’d booked and started to pack my possessions with a cold, almost surgical efficiency. My clothes, my design sketches, the cheap kitchenware and small appliances I’d bought myself… Everything that bore my personal mark was boxed. The expensive watches, the bespoke suits, the luxury bags—all of it had been bought by Vivian to maintain my “role” as her husband. I left every piece. Including the wedding band I’d taken off, which lay glinting silently on the vanity. The movers arrived swiftly, loading a dozen cardboard boxes onto the truck. Before leaving, I took one last look at the villa where I had lived for a decade. It was beautiful, cold, a perfectly constructed gilded cage. And I was finally serving out my sentence. 4 My rented apartment was tiny, but the sunlight poured in. I spent the entire day arranging my things, exhausting my body, but feeling an odd, weightless peace in my mind. That evening, I received a text from an unfamiliar number. It was Vivian. “Ethan, come home immediately. We can pretend none of this happened.” “Rhys is fragile. Stop trying to upset him.” “Also, I know you’re unwell. Get the treatment you need. Stop this foolish tantrum.” I looked at the message and almost laughed until I cried. Even now, she was concerned with Rhys’s feelings and assumed I was throwing a childish fit. My own pain, my sickness, my life, was irrelevant. I didn’t reply. I deleted the text and blocked that number, too. 5 The day before the surgery, I went in for a final consultation. The doctor reviewed my charts. “Your results are very encouraging. If we proceed with the treatment, your chances of a full recovery are significant.” “And if I refuse the surgery?” The older physician pushed his glasses up, his gaze troubled. “Mr. Bellweather, the hope for recovery is truly great. Are you certain?” I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood before finally replying. “I need more time to think.” As I walked out of the office, my steps felt unsteady. And then, at the end of the long hospital corridor, I saw the person I least wanted to see. Vivian. She was impeccably dressed, radiating the cold, assured power of the Shaw Group CEO. “You’re coming back with me.” She grabbed my wrist, her grip so hard it felt like she was trying to crush bone. “The tantrum ends now.” “A tantrum?” I looked up at her. “Vivian, you truly believe this is a tantrum?” “That agreement is old and void,” she repeated, her voice laced with impatience. “Rhys has a heart condition. I simply wanted to give him a blessing…” “So I get to be the sacrificial lamb for your fantasy love story?” I violently yanked my arm away. “Vivian, do you remember the year of our wedding, when I had a 104-degree fever? You said you were too busy to come home, but later I saw photos of you and Rhys skiing in Aspen on his social media.” “Our third wedding anniversary. You claimed you had a mandatory board meeting, but I saw your car in Rhys’s studio parking lot on his selfie.” “Anytime I needed you, you were busy. But you always had time to attend his art shows and celebrate every one of his birthdays.” I recounted the betrayals, one by one, my voice eerily calm, as if speaking of a stranger’s life. Vivian’s face finally changed. “You… you knew all of this?” “I never spoke of it because every time, I told myself to give you one more chance, to believe in you one last time.” I laughed, but the tears finally came. “It wasn’t until I saw that asset transfer agreement that I realized how pathetic I was.” She was silent. For the first time, I saw something akin to guilt in her eyes. But it was too late. Everything was too late. “I will get treatment,” I said softly. “But it has nothing to do with you.” “From this day forward, whether I live or die is entirely irrelevant to you, Vivian Shaw.” I turned and walked away. She didn’t follow. For the next few days, I shut myself off, focusing only on resting in the apartment. My lawyer called to say Vivian was refusing to sign the divorce papers. “Mr. Bellweather, if you insist, we have to file a suit. But given your current health status, the court will lean heavily toward mediation.” “Furthermore, Ms. Shaw stated that if you insist on a legal battle, she has the means to drag this out for years.” The lawyer sounded troubled. I held the phone, silent for a long moment. I knew Vivian was capable of it. She had the money and the influence; I had nothing left. “Ms. Reed, how long would a contested divorce take?” “If the opposing party is determined and utilizes all her resources, it could be stretched out for several years.” Years? I didn’t have that long. I had to force Vivian to agree to the divorce. 6 Just as I was thinking, the doorbell rang. Rhys Alden stood there in a soft, white cashmere sweater, looking fragile and innocent, holding a fancy insulated container. I opened the door, but made no move to let him in. “What do you want?” “Ethan, I knew you’d be here.” He offered a weak smile and started to step inside. “Vivian is worried sick about you. She sent me to check in. I brought you some chicken broth. You’re sick, you need to nourish yourself.” I blocked the doorframe, unmoving. “Thank you. I don’t need it. You can leave.” His smile faltered, replaced by a wounded expression. “Ethan, are you still mad at me? Vivian and I aren’t doing anything inappropriate. She just takes care of me…” “Whatever you two are doing is irrelevant to me,” I cut him off coldly. “I’m divorcing her soon. You can finally let her take care of you openly.” A flash of triumph flickered in Rhys’s eyes, quickly masked by feigned concern. “Ethan, don’t rush into a divorce! You have no money now. And Vivian says she wants you to be healthy…” Before he could finish, I looked up and stared at him, my eyes burning. “She wants me to be healthy? So what? So I can keep playing my part in your sick game?” Rhys was startled by my gaze and instinctively stepped back. “Ethan, why would you think that? I only felt sorry for you, substituting for me all these years…” He trailed off, but the unspoken words were the most vicious blade, instantly slicing through my last defense. So that was it. That was why she refused to divorce me. Because I was a mere stand-in, and she couldn’t openly be with the real man. She needed me, the man with the eyes “like his,” to complete their fantasy! A tremendous wave of absurdity and revulsion overwhelmed me. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I snatched the insulated container from his hand and hurled it at him with full force! Warm chicken broth splattered all over his white sweater. He shrieked and leaped back. “Get out!” I pointed to the stairs, trembling all over. “Tell Vivian I will divorce her even if it kills me!” Rhys looked down at his ruined clothes, and the mask of wounded innocence finally cracked, revealing a sliver of malice. “Ethan, don’t be ungrateful! If Vivian wants you alive, you will live! Do you really think you can resist her?” “Let’s see!” I stared him down. “Let’s see if I can!” Perhaps my expression was truly terrifying, because Rhys ultimately slunk away, defeated. I closed the door and slid down the wall, sinking to the floor, my body cold and shaking uncontrollably. Fear and despair washed over me. I knew the extent of Vivian’s power. If she truly intended to force me into treatment, I had virtually no defense. No. I could not let her win. My body, my life, had to be mine. Not Vivian’s. And certainly not Rhys Alden’s! A desperate, insane thought took root in that moment. If I simply ceased to exist, would they finally let me go? 7 My heart was in agonizing turmoil when my phone suddenly buzzed. It was an anonymous email. Driven by an impulse I couldn’t explain, I clicked it open. The email contained no text, only a few scanned documents. The first was a screenshot of an old email exchange between Vivian and Rhys, dated years before my marriage to her. The second was a copy of Rhys Alden’s medical report, diagnosing him with congenital azoospermia—infertility. The third document was a bomb. It was a recording of a conversation between Vivian and her private counsel. I pressed play, and Vivian’s cold voice filled the tiny apartment, terrifyingly clear: “That gift agreement must be watertight, no legal loopholes, but it’s the security I promised him. It has to be effective.” “As for Ethan… we don’t need to worry about him anymore. He’s been my husband for ten years; I’ve paid off that debt of gratitude long ago. His only remaining value is to give me an heir.” “Once the child is secured, if he cooperates, we’ll give him a generous settlement to keep him quiet. If he doesn’t… you know what to do.” “Rhys loves children. If my child has eyes like him, that would be the best possible outcome.” The recording cut off abruptly. I sat on the floor, the blood draining from my body. I was so cold my teeth were chattering. So… this was the truth! Every suspicion was confirmed. My help, my life debt, was merely an “obligation” she needed to “pay off.” A surge of volcanic anger and nausea hit me. I rushed back to the bathroom, vomiting until my stomach was empty. This wasn’t sickness-induced retching. This was a purely physiological reaction of disgust. Disgust for the fifteen years of love I had wasted, for the decade of marriage I had mistakenly cherished! When it was over, only acid remained. I gripped the wall, looked at the ashen-faced man in the mirror, and a cold smile touched my lips. I pulled out my phone and unblocked Vivian’s number. It rang once, and she answered. I held the receiver, letting out a soft, unnervingly clear laugh. “Vivian, you want me to give you a child, is that right?” There was a moment of silence on the line, followed by her voice, tight with barely contained fury. “Ethan Bellweather, what are you doing?” “What am I doing?” My laugh turned colder. “What can I do…” “I just wanted to tell you…” I paused, speaking each word slowly, deliberately, driving them like stakes into her heart. “That child, you will never, ever get it.” Then, without giving her time to react, I hung up and turned off my phone.

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  • The Resurrection Comments

    My husband fell in love with someone else while trying to bring me back from the dead. When I finally woke up, Jaren asked me what I wanted. I was about to tell him I wanted to finish the wedding we started a million years ago. But in an instant, lines of neon text floated across my vision like a holographic livestream chat. [The Male Lead is so devoted. He became the God of this universe and still didn’t forget to rez the mortal side-character.] [That side-chick is shameless. She’s finally alive and immediately wants a title? Our girl Sera is the one who spent a million years fighting beside him!] [Whatever. Let her come back. She’ll just be a toxic pick-me and get ignored. That’s when Jaren will realize his true love is Sera! Slow burn FTW!] I paused, processed the words, and looked him in the eye. “I want a divorce.” 1 Jaren froze. He looked almost exactly as he did the day I died, only more ethereal, more terrifyingly beautiful. “Aria… are you joking?” His voice cracked. He couldn’t believe it. [This jealous female antagonist wants a divorce? That makes no sense!] [She’s definitely using divorce as leverage to manipulate him. Gross. Why did the author write such a cheap character?] [Just wait, our baby girl is bringing the kid. Prepare for the face-slapping!] The floating text was filled with vile insults. According to them, my life was just a popular webnovel called Defying Heaven: The God-King’s Pet. Jaren was the protagonist. A brooding genius. To save his “White Moonlight”—his first love, me, who died blocking a divine tribulation for him—he embarked on a journey of cultivation with a half-demon girl named Seraphina. They were enemies-to-lovers. Over a million years, they supported each other. Sera confessed to Jaren multiple times, but he rejected her because of his “loyalty” to my memory. But then, during a trial he couldn’t pass… He slept with her. To “break through his limits.” Twice. The first time, she gave birth to a daughter. Now, she was pregnant with a son. And me? After being resurrected, I was destined to become the bitter ex. I would frame Sera, cause her to miscarry, and eventually, Jaren would hate me enough to kill me with a single strike. My soul would be obliterated. Ha. Hilarious. 2 “Jay-Jay! Sister Aria must be confused from sleeping for a million years. She’s still human, her mortal brain is probably foggy. She should stay in the Sky Palace and rest.” A woman in red silk descended from the clouds. Her belly was slightly rounded, and a miniature version of her stood by her side. “Daddy! Uppies!” The little girl bit into a candied hawthorn stick and launched herself at Jaren. “Jinx, didn’t we agree? No sweets while your teeth are growing in.” A moment ago, Jaren was holding my hand. Now, his arms were full of his daughter. [There it is! The nicknames! Jay-Jay and Jinx! Even their kid uses them. It’s canon, guys! Family goals!] [Someone looks like a third wheel. I won’t say who.] [Sera is too kind. She’s actually letting the ex stay? My heart hurts for her, she doesn’t know the plot twists coming up.] I bit my lip and tried to call him. “Jaren.” No reaction. He was too busy flirting with Seraphina. I raised my voice. “Jaren!” He finally snapped out of it. He put the child down, knelt on one knee before me, and pulled out a glowing box of pills. A look of boyish shyness—the kind I remembered from our youth—crossed his face. “Aria, I’m sorry. It’s been so long since anyone called me by my real name. Let me introduce you. Seraphina is my partner on the path to divinity. She didn’t mean you were stupid; she just meant mortal bodies are fragile.” “So… tonight, I will transfer my essence to you. You’ll become an Immortal like me. We never have to be apart again.” I pointed at the mother and daughter. “She gave birth to your daughter. She is carrying your son. And you’re telling me we will never be apart?” Predictably, Sera’s eyes welled up with tears. The little girl started hammering her tiny fists against my legs. “You bad woman! You made Mommy cry! Apologize to Mommy!” [Why is the side-chick acting like a pure lotus? Someone comfort Sera-bear!] [If she wants a divorce, she should just jump off the Abyss Platform. That sends you back to the mortal realm.] [She’s bluffing. How could she give up the wealth of Heaven and eternal life?] I turned to leave. Jaren grabbed my arm with a grip like iron. His other hand caught Sera, who was pretending to run away. “Aria, where are you going?” “The Abyss Platform. I told you. My wish is to divorce you.” He frowned, genuinely confused. “Just because I have a child with Sera? You’re that petty?” Petty? My husband fell in love with another woman while claiming to save me. Am I not allowed to be angry? “Let go.” I didn’t want to be the villain those floating words described. Leaving was the only dignified choice. Jaren actually let go—of Sera. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, burying his face in my neck. “My only wish for this entire journey was to bring you back. If you aren’t here, none of this means anything.” My eyes stung. Maybe I should believe my Jaren. Not these strange, glowing subtitles. 3 “Daddy! Mommy is bleeding!” Sera clutched her stomach, her face draining of color. Jaren released me instantly, pushing divine energy into her to stop the bleeding. Sera wrapped her arms around his neck. He didn’t push her away; he scooped her up into a bridal carry. “Sera is showing signs of preterm labor. Aria, wait for me. I’ll be right back.” Premature labor. He was the father. He had to go. I couldn’t wish death on an innocent child. Even if it was their child. But a selfish thought clawed at me. If I hadn’t died… We would have had children. We would have been a normal, happy couple. “Aria, listen. Sera is just a comrade who happens to carry my heir. Don’t overthink it. There is no love between us.” My fingernails dug into my palms. I swallowed my resentment. “Okay.” 4 Jaren was worried I’d jump into the Abyss. He stationed hundreds of elite guards around a gilded palace and locked me inside. No servants were allowed to speak to me. I couldn’t find the Abyss. I lost track of time. [That scared me. Good thing the villainess didn’t strike. Sera gave birth to a healthy baby boy! The text says he looks just like the ML did as a baby!] [Does anyone else think the side-chick looks… old?] [One day in Heaven is a year on Earth. The ML has been with Sera for her postpartum recovery for fifteen days. The ex is basically a 30-year-old hag now.] Thirty is old? Jaren and Sera were over a million years old. But they still looked nineteen. I looked in the mirror. Fine lines crept around my eyes. My skin was sallow. I was aging. One day, two days… ten days. I missed my parents. I missed my clan. I never saw my mother get gray hair. I never saw my father grow old. Back then, I was obsessed with Jaren. He needed a divine artifact to start his cultivation. My clan was the only one in the region who knew how to forge them. Nobody believed Jaren—the cursed orphan—could ascend. I knelt in the ancestral hall. I kowtowed until my forehead bled, begging my parents, begging the elders. The only condition was that Jaren married into our family. On our wedding night, the Heavens struck. I used my life to block the Lightning Tribulation for him. He ascended to the Foundation Stage. He stood at the peak of the mortal world. But my parents… they had to watch me die. Dying for a man. How worthless. I didn’t understand it then. I thought teenage love could conquer the universe. I couldn’t die of old age here. I had to go home. I owed my family an explanation.

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  • The Revolt of AP Calculus: How We Fired the Nepo Baby

    Right before finals, our AP Calc teacher—who was also our homeroom teacher—was suspended for “offending” the administration. They replaced her with a brand-new teacher fresh out of college. Our class was the top-ranked in the district. We had multiple students aiming for Ivies and Stanford. And the school thought it was a good idea to swap horses mid-stream so someone else could take credit for our scores? Did they ask us? No. But our Class President dropped one line about “getting justice for Ms. Bennett,” and the entire class skipped third period to storm the Principal’s office. We were good at tests, sure. But we were even better at starting a riot. 1 With finals less than a month away, Ms. Bennett vanished. When the bell rang, a young woman walked in. “Hi everyone, I’m Ms. Snow. I’ll be your substitute homeroom teacher and AP Calculus instructor.” Substitute? The class froze. Whispers broke out instantly. Most eyes turned to Jason, our Class President. He looked just as confused. He raised his hand. “Ms. Snow, where is Ms. Bennett?” Ms. Bennett was a legend. Thirty-something, sharp as a tack, had been teaching at our elite high school for six years. She built the Honors program from the ground up. This new teacher looked like she graduated five minutes ago. She smiled at us, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Ms. Bennett is taking some time off for personal reasons. I’ll be handling your review and daily affairs for the next month. Any questions? No? Let’s start the homeroom meeting.” Jason kept his hand up. “Ms. Snow, why is she taking time off? Is she sick?” Ms. Snow’s smile turned cryptic. “That’s private. I can’t discuss it.” “Okay, roll call,” she said, her tone hardening. “I don’t know you yet. Raise your hand when I call your name.” “Sloane Vance.” I raised my hand. “Here.” Ms. Snow’s gaze lingered on me for a second too long before moving on. “Liam Zhou.” “Here.” As she went down the list, I realized something. It wasn’t alphabetical. It was ranked by our last mock exam scores. 2 During the break, our math rep, Haley, got called to the office. Liam, the academic chair who sat behind me, ran out and came back looking grim. “Ms. Bennett got screwed,” he whispered. “What happened?” Everyone crowded around. Liam’s parents were teachers in the district, so he always had the tea. “Someone reported her for running an ‘illegal private tutoring ring.’ She’s suspended pending investigation.” Bullshit. “No way,” someone argued. “Ms. Bennett lives at this school. She’s here on weekends for our study hall. When does she have time to run a side hustle?” “And even if she did, who fires a teacher a month before AP exams?” We were the “Golden Class.” The school’s reputation depended on our acceptance letters. Ms. Bennett was the architect of our success. “Wait,” I said, a thought hitting me. “Even if they had to suspend her, why replace her with a rookie?” Usually, another veteran teacher would cover the classes. Ms. Snow was a complete stranger. She wasn’t from our math department. Just before the bell, Haley came back, eyes red and puffy. “Haley, what’s wrong?” I asked. “Ms. Snow…” Haley choked back a sob. “She yelled at me for wearing jewelry. She said I wasn’t focused and asked if my grades dropped because I was ‘messing around with boys.’” I stared at her. Haley wore a jade bangle and a small pendant. They were heirlooms from her mom, who passed away from cancer last year. Her dad was working out of state to pay for her college. She lived with her grandparents. Messing around with boys? Haley was the most focused person I knew. How could a teacher accuse a student of that without knowing a single thing about her? 3 Class started. Ms. Snow projected a PowerPoint. “We have four weeks left. I’ve created a final sprint review plan.” Liam raised his hand. “Ms. Snow, Ms. Bennett already made personalized study plans for each of us. We’re following those.” Ms. Snow’s expression iced over. “From now until the AP exam, I am in charge of your math review. You follow my plan.” Her plan was generic. It didn’t match our pace at all. “I know you think you’re smart,” she added, voice dripping with condescension. “But mock exam scores don’t mean anything. The AP exam is the only thing that matters. I’m doing this for your own good.” She started lecturing on basic concepts we had mastered months ago. I put my head down and continued working on my practice set. I listened with one ear until something sounded wrong. I looked up. She was solving a sample problem on the board. “Teacher,” I interrupted, raising my hand. “I think there’s a mistake in your solution.” Ms. Snow stopped. She glared at me. She definitely remembered me from the roll call. “Sloane Vance. If you’re not listening, don’t disrupt the class. Do you think I don’t see you doing other work?” At this stage, teachers usually let us self-study. Especially in Honors Math. “I know you’re top of the class,” she sneered. “But good grades don’t give you the right to be disrespectful. If you don’t learn respect, you’ll be useless to society no matter what college you get into.” Harsh. I stared back at her, unfazed. Before I could retort, another student spoke up. “Ms. Snow, you missed the case where the line is vertical. The slope would be undefined.” “Oh!” Ms. Snow looked at the board, flustered. “Right.” She checked her answer key before correcting herself. The vibe in the room shifted. We knew. She didn’t know the material. She was relying on the answer key. Ms. Bennett would have been thrilled if we caught a mistake. She always said, “If you can outsmart me, you’re ready for the test.” Ms. Snow just looked embarrassed and angry. This person was supposed to lead us to a 5 on the AP Calc BC exam? 4 By the next morning, Jason had the full story. “The ‘illegal tutoring’ was her helping her nephew with his homework in the staff room during evening study hall. The Dean of Students got into a shouting match with her and suspended her on the spot.” Her nephew was a freshman here. Helping family is illegal now? “And Ms. Snow,” Jason added darkly, “is a new hire. The only new hire the district approved this semester.” We didn’t need a math teacher. “If Ms. Snow takes over,” Haley asked quietly, “who gets the bonus for our AP scores?” Silence. Teachers got bonuses and accolades for high AP pass rates and Ivy acceptances. “Hell no,” a guy in the back shouted. “Ms. Bennett did all the work. She put up with our crap for three years. We’re not letting some newbie steal her thunder.” We were the cash cow class. We were supposed to produce the Valedictorian. “We need to get justice for Bennett,” Jason said, standing up. “Okay, me, Liam, Sloane, Haley, and Ethan. We’re going to the Principal’s office.” The Top 5 GPAs. Plus the Class President. “Why just you five?” the English rep piped up. “They’ll just pick you off one by one. Safety in numbers. Let’s all go. The office can fit thirty people, right?” “Yeah! My parents are already asking questions in the group chat. Ms. Snow kicked Bennett out of the chat and muted everyone!” “She has no backup. If we don’t fight for her, who will?” Teenagers run on caffeine and righteous fury. Within seconds, the entire class—thirty-two students—agreed. We stood up as the bell rang. Ms. Snow walked in, saw us mobilizing, and froze. “What do you think you’re doing?” 5 We ignored her. Being young doesn’t mean being stupid. Ms. Snow walking into the best class in the school fresh out of college? That screamed nepotism. We just didn’t know whose niece she was yet. We marched down the hall to the admin building. We ran into some kids from Class 2. “Whoa, Class 1 is moving out? Is there a fire?” “We’re getting our teacher back,” I said. Class 2 shared Ms. Bennett with us. They looked at each other, realizing what was happening. We arrived at the Principal’s office. Principal Miller was brewing tea, looking relaxed. He looked up, startled, as thirty students filed into his room. “Which class is this? Why aren’t you in session?” “Principal Miller,” Jason stepped forward. “We are the Senior Honors Class. We’re here to ask why Ms. Bennett was suspended a month before APs.” Principal Miller frowned. “You’re Honors students? You should know better. Every minute counts. Go back to class! This doesn’t concern you.” “Doesn’t concern us?” I spoke up. “She’s our teacher. Who is going to prep us for the exam?” “Yeah! You can’t just swap teachers like spare tires!” “Bring Ms. Bennett back!” The room erupted. Miller slammed his mug down. “Ms. Bennett violated district policy! The school is following protocol. Keep making noise, and I’ll write you all up! Do you want a disciplinary record on your transcripts right before college?” He thought threatening our permanent records would scare us. I laughed. A cold, dry sound. “Principal Miller, show us the proof. If she violated policy, show us the investigation report. If not, reinstate her.” I stepped closer. “And go ahead. Write me up. I don’t care about a record. I care about fairness.” “Me neither!” “Write us all up!” “We want Ms. Bennett!”

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