Category: English

The day before the wedding, a hotel booking confirmation from my fiancé Ethan arrived on my phone. I thought it was a pre-wedding surprise he’d planned for me. But shortly after, his childhood sweetheart Leah posted a photo on Ins of them kissing passionately, with the caption: “Missing you before was my biggest regret. If I still have a chance, I want to tell you—I do.” After I caught him cheating, Ethan didn’t explain. He just sent me a message: “We need to prepare for the wedding tomorrow. Get some rest early tonight.” Seeing that message, bitterness filled my heart. What was I to him, really? A consolation prize? My eyes welled up as I looked at the carefully decorated room, feeling nothing but irony. I took a deep breath, swallowed the bitterness, and replied. “Let’s not get married. Let’s break up.” Ethan didn’t respond to that message. I fought to suppress the sadness inside and threw the wedding dress I’d carefully prepared onto the floor. Ethan was only thirty but already a professor at a prestigious university. In everyone’s eyes, he was handsome and talented. Many people thought I was marrying up, and even before the wedding they’d advise me to be content and become a virtuous, sensible wife. But cheating was something I could never tolerate. After deciding firmly to break up, I sent my mom a message. She was shocked. After a long silence, she said: “Alright. As long as you’ve made your decision, I’ll support you.” That night, I packed my bags and left home, checking into a hotel. Two days later, Ethan suddenly found the hotel where I was staying. His refined face showed deep fatigue, and his ink-black eyes stared straight at me. “Have you calmed down yet?” His voice came out dull and hoarse. I snapped back to reality and looked at him coldly. “Mr. Hayes, what do you want from me?” “Emily, stop making a scene. I’m really tired lately.” He seemed to soften his tone, his eyes clearly showing exhaustion. I let out a cold laugh. Of course he was tired—juggling two women would exhaust anyone. “What does that have to do with me?” I responded coldly. Even looking at him one more time felt like it dirtied my eyes. I turned to leave after saying that, but he grabbed my wrist. The moment his warm palm touched my wrist. I jerked my hand away like a startled bird and glared at him angrily. “Don’t touch me!” Ethan’s body trembled slightly as he looked at me in surprise. He opened his mouth as if to say something. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. We’ve already broken up. Please show some respect!” “Emily.” His tone grew heavier, tinged with displeasure. “I couldn’t find you on the wedding day. You wouldn’t answer your phone or reply to messages. I’m already exhausted dealing with this mess. Can’t we just talk this through properly? Why does it have to come to this?” “Talk about what? About how you had sex with another woman? Sorry, I’m not interested.” Ethan’s eyes were pitch black, his expression so dark it could drip water, his voice cold. “Things between her and me aren’t what you think.”

“I don’t care what your relationship is anymore.” His tone softened a bit. “Emily, let’s go home and talk. My parents are still waiting for you at home.” Thinking of his parents, I felt somewhat guilty. Ethan’s parents were completely different from him. Uncle Richard was kind and pleasant to talk to, and Aunt Claire was gentle and beautiful. They’d always been good to me, never mistreated me, sometimes even treating me better than they treated Ethan. With something like this happening, they must be feeling awful too. Fine. This matter needed to be settled anyway. I didn’t object. I let him take my suitcase and walk into the elevator. I followed him to his parents’ house. Before we even entered, I heard his mom saying, “Go buy some mangoes quickly. Emily likes mangoes.” “Sure thing, I’ll go right now,” Richard replied. Richard came to the door and paused when he saw us, then his face broke into a kind smile. “You’re back. I’m going to buy some fruit. I’ll be right back.” I smiled awkwardly, unable to say what I’d come to say. Claire was still busy in the kitchen. Hearing our voices, she rushed out. “Emily’s back! Rest on the sofa for a bit. Dinner will be ready soon.” Her face was full of smiles, as if my runaway bride act had never happened. My guilt deepened. But that wouldn’t shake my determination to break up. I responded and sat on the sofa, stiffly staring at the blank TV screen. Ethan poured a glass of water and placed it in front of me. “It’s not your first time here. Why so nervous?” I kept my eyes straight ahead and said blandly, “Because this isn’t my home.” Then I added coolly, “Not the first time, but it will be the last.” Ethan gripped the glass tightly, his fingertips turning white, his thin lips pressed into a straight line, as if deliberately restraining something. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Ethan got up to answer it. His childhood sweetheart Leah’s cheerful voice came from outside. “Ethan, what’s cooking at your place? It smells amazing.” As she finished speaking, she changed shoes and walked in with practiced ease. She clearly froze when she saw me, her lips stretching into a strained smile. “Oh, Emily’s here too.” My cold gaze swept over her, pausing when I noticed the slippers she was wearing. Her slippers were cute pink house shoes with little bears. What a coincidence—they matched the blue bear slippers on Ethan’s feet that didn’t suit his image at all. They were a pair. I smiled mockingly to myself and swallowed all the words I wanted to say.

Soon, it was dinner time. Claire, as always, was taking care of my feelings, worried I wouldn’t relax. She even asked Ethan to peel shrimp for me. Ethan’s eyebrows furrowed at this, his resistance plain to see. He never ate these kinds of shellfish—partly because it was too much trouble, and partly because he genuinely disliked them. The same scene had played out before when I visited. Back then, he’d looked puzzled and asked, “Why would you eat something so troublesome?” I’d already felt uncomfortable at the time, and hearing that, I immediately gave up on eating the shrimp. I could only lie and say, “No need, I don’t like shrimp.” Even now, he hadn’t changed his attitude. He looked at the shrimp on the table with obvious disgust. I smiled faintly and grabbed a pair of disposable gloves to put on. “No need, Claire. I can peel them myself.” The smile on Claire’s face gradually froze. She shot him a displeased glare, then smiled and told me to eat more. Leah bit her lip, her gaze drifting meaningfully toward the shrimp. “Emily, you’re so good at peeling shrimp. I love eating them too, but I don’t know how to peel them.” Hearing this, I calmly looked at the peeled shrimp in my hand and casually put it in my mouth. “Really? There are tutorials online. You can check them out.” Leah smiled awkwardly. Ethan looked at me with disapproval. He methodically put on disposable gloves, picked up a shrimp, and began peeling it while gently teaching her peeling techniques. Watching this scene, I suddenly felt like laughing. If his parents weren’t here, I didn’t know how many harsh words I’d say. Claire’s expression changed dramatically. She covered her mouth and coughed heavily several times. “Don’t play favorites. Take care of Emily too.” Ethan glanced at me sideways and reluctantly peeled one for me. It was quite intact, but I’d lost my appetite. From that point on, I didn’t eat another shrimp. The one he placed in my bowl, I never touched either. I acted as if I hadn’t seen it and smiled. “Thank you for having me.” “However, there’s something I need to make clear. Ethan and I have already broken up. I’m sorry, Richard and Claire. I’ve let you down.” Richard and Claire froze. Ethan clenched his fists, staring at me in silence. Instead, it was Leah whose eyes reddened as she asked weakly, “Emily, Ethan treats you so well. Why do you insist on breaking up? Can’t you stay together?” Seeing her act so innocent, I almost couldn’t keep down the food I’d just eaten. My expression turned especially ugly. I smiled faintly and asked back, “Don’t you know the reason?” “Emily!” Ethan interrupted me sharply. His expression was grim, his face full of displeasure. “I already told you, I only see Leah as a sister. Stop being unreasonable.” Leah’s expression changed, unable to maintain her smile. I looked up at him calmly, suddenly feeling tired. I slowly stood up and said softly, “Thank you for having me. Next time I’ll treat you to dinner. I just remembered I have some things to handle, so I’ll leave first.” Claire was a reasonable person who could tell the atmosphere was off. She stood up reluctantly. “Alright then. I made some mango mille-feuille cake. Take it home with you.” Afraid I’d refuse, she hurried to the kitchen to pack it for me. After leaving Ethan’s house, I dragged my suitcase and took a cab home. I hadn’t been back for two days. The hallway was clean, showing no trace that wedding preparations had been made here.

The apartment I rented wasn’t far from Ethan’s place. He’d asked me to move in with him before. I couldn’t bear to give up this place I’d paid for annually, so I never agreed. Thinking about it now, I realized this was one of the few right choices I’d made. My best friend Sophie found out I’d moved back and rushed over with her child. “Emily, there’s something I’m really curious about. How did you find out he went to that boutique hotel with someone else?” I was playing with toys to entertain the little one when I heard her question. My smile faded. “I used his phone to book a hotel before and entered my number. Last time I forgot to change it back.” That careless mistake completely woke me from the beautiful dream I’d been weaving. “Unbelievable. He looks so decent on the outside, but what he does is worse than trash. Good thing you found out before the wedding. If you’d discovered this after getting married, that would’ve been even more disgusting.” Sophie had always been someone who loved and hated boldly, never holding back when cursing people out. My gloomy mood lightened considerably thanks to her counsel. “Don’t worry. You’re beautiful and capable. You’ll meet an even better man!” I smiled brightly, agreeing with her words. After adjusting my mood, I returned to work at the company. Colleagues who knew I was getting married during this time saw me come to work and expressed their congratulations. Seeing their happy smiles for my sake. A warm current flowed through my heart. After the joy came a wave of melancholy. Who would have thought I’d returned to being single again? “Emily, you’re not planning to start trying for a baby now, are you? Everyone knows the manager position is practically yours. If you choose family at this point, it won’t be worth it.” During lunch break, a colleague wheeled her chair over to sit beside me, speaking quietly. I’d actually struggled with this dilemma before—unwilling to give up the promotion opportunity right within reach, yet also unwilling to abandon the little family I’d just formed. But now, my problem had solved itself. “Don’t worry. I won’t have those plans for the next few years.” “Huh? Your husband won’t say anything?” I smiled calmly. “No one has the right to interfere with my decisions.” My colleague paused, then gave me a thumbs up and praised, “You’re really clear-headed. But you’re right—life is your own. No one has the right to boss us around.” Bitterness rose in my heart. If I’d really been clear-headed, I wouldn’t have waited until now to turn back. After that, I focused all my energy on work, deliberately avoiding everything related to Ethan. I discovered that when you really wanted to avoid someone, it was actually quite easy. For five consecutive days, I didn’t see Ethan. Just when I thought he’d given up, he showed up at my door. I was carrying groceries I’d just bought home. When I stepped out of the elevator, I saw a tall man standing by my door. Ethan held a bouquet of bright red roses. In his well-fitted suit, his superior figure was hard to ignore. I walked coldly to the door, wanting to unlock it. “Emily, let’s talk.” “What is there left for us to talk about?” I glanced at him indifferently. “Move. I need to go home.” “What I did before was wrong. I came to apologize.”

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My Alpha husband Orion’s first love, Beatrix, suddenly had a depression episode and committed suicide by arson. In his fury, he brought me—eight months pregnant—to the hunting grounds during the Hunt Festival and made me prey for the werewolves to chase. “If you hadn’t deliberately provoked Beatrix, why would she have had a depression episode and tried to kill herself by setting that fire?” I was still carrying our child. Through my tears, I admitted fault and begged him to spare me, promising I would never appear in front of Beatrix again. But he only shook his head coldly. “Seraphina, for the child’s sake, I won’t reject you.” “But the pain you caused Beatrix—I’ll make you repay it a hundred, a thousand times over!” After throwing me into the hunting grounds, he turned and left immediately. As more and more werewolves chased me like prey, I struggled and screamed in terror. During my escape, a rush of hot liquid burst from my body. Three days later, he finally remembered me, the one he’d left in the hunting grounds. “Seraphina, Beatrix is fine now. As long as you kneel before her and apologize, I’ll let you out of the hunting grounds.” What he didn’t know was that I had already died in the hunting grounds. Even the child he had longed for had been flung from my body during my escape and turned into a pile of bloody pulp…

“The doctor called me this morning and said Seraphina didn’t show up for her prenatal checkup. What kind of stunt is she trying to pull now to get my attention?” As Orion spoke, his brow furrowed tightly, a flash of disgust in his eyes. The old butler’s face went pale, and he said in a trembling voice, “Alpha Orion, Luna Seraphina doesn’t seem to have been released yet. And she’s eight months pregnant—what if something happened?” Orion waved his hand dismissively. “It’s just the Hunt Festival. Besides, I had the witch put a protective spell on her. The werewolves in the hunting grounds can’t actually hurt her—they’re just scaring her. I’m not really trying to kill her. It’s good for her to learn some fear. Maybe next time she won’t dare bully Beatrix again.” Hearing this, the old butler didn’t dare say more. But Leo couldn’t help interjecting, “But three days ago, at the start, Luna Seraphina was crying her heart out. Then later there was no sound at all. She’s still carrying your child—your own flesh and blood. Maybe you should go check on Luna Seraphina…” Orion’s expression instantly changed from understanding to contempt. “I knew it. Even her screams were fake. How could someone being chased by werewolves make no sound at all? Seraphina is as cunning and scheming as ever. If that’s the case, let her stay in the hunting grounds one more day. Tomorrow I’ll bring her to Beatrix to kneel and apologize, and then we’ll be done with this.” With that, he waved his hand to cut off Leo’s next words and walked toward the bedroom. Orion still thought I was in the hunting grounds. He didn’t know that I was actually already dead. After death, my soul automatically drifted to his side, and I couldn’t go anywhere except near him. At that moment, my soul floated in the air. I saw that in the bedroom, Beatrix was lying half-naked on my marital bed, her body still wrapped in burn bandages from her failed suicide attempt. Orion walked gently to her side. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and the next second he pressed his lips to her swollen ones. The person on the bed let out a soft moan and opened her eyes. She gently tried to push away the Orion on top of her. “Orion, this is your and Seraphina’s marital bed. Seraphina will be heartbroken if she finds out.” “And about what happened before, Orion—I just loved you too much. I thought if I died, Seraphina wouldn’t fight with you because of me anymore. I never meant for you to punish her for my sake. Why don’t I go apologize to Seraphina?” Beatrix bit her lower lip, looking sad and guilty. Sure enough, seeing Beatrix like this, Orion couldn’t hold back any longer. He set the porridge aside. His large hand roughly kneaded Beatrix’s chest as he flipped over and pressed her beneath him. “Beatrix, you’re just too kind. If it weren’t for you all those years ago, I would have died at the hands of those Rogues. When I think about how gentle and kind you are, and how Seraphina drove you to attempt suicide by fire, it breaks my heart. If there’s a next time, even if she’s carrying my child, I’ll make her pay with her life…” Orion kissed the minor burns Beatrix had from the fire, his eyes full of heartache. Yes, because Beatrix had saved Orion, Orion fell in love with her. Beatrix was also Orion’s first love. Orion, Beatrix, and I all attended the same werewolf academy. Back then, Orion was still the Alpha heir. In his school uniform, he was sunny and handsome. I’d had a crush on him from very early on. When I turned eighteen, I discovered that Orion and I were fated mates. I was so happy. Orion also agreed to date me, but I didn’t notice the confusion written all over his eyes at the time. Looking back now, Orion must have been sad about Beatrix breaking up with him and going abroad. I thought that after all these years together, and being fated mates, Orion would surely fall in love with me. But then Beatrix returned to the country, and I overheard Orion coaxing her, “I only married Seraphina because marrying a fated mate would help me become Alpha of the Ashpelt Pack. Deep down, I still love you, of course.” In that moment, I heard the sound of my own heart breaking.

My soul floated in the air, watching Orion and Beatrix have sex on my marital bed. The wedding photo on the nightstand shook. Looking at myself in the photo, so affectionate, and at the cold Orion. Only then did I realize that souls can cry too. But Orion, there won’t be a next time. Because… I’m already dead. At the time, I was so frightened I wanted to run away. He watched with his own eyes as I clutched my eight-month pregnant belly and fled like a headless fly. In the end, he ordered his guards to drag me back. Having lost his patience, before throwing me into the hunting grounds, he had the accompanying witch cast a spell on me. My body began to twist and deform. Antlers grew from my forehead, and brown fur covered my skin. I transformed into the shape of a deer. He waved his hand coldly. “Starting now, you’re the prey for the Hunt Festival.” I was pushed into the hunting grounds. The werewolves behind me caught the scent of prey, and their eyes began to glow red. I ran desperately, but my body, eight months pregnant, was unbearably heavy. The howling of wolves behind me grew closer and closer. I cried and told him I couldn’t run anymore. I begged him to save our child. He hesitated for a moment, but Beatrix, who had just been rescued, reminded him weakly from his arms, “I remember Seraphina’s due date isn’t for another week, right? But she does look really scared. Getting this frightened before it even starts—maybe we should just forget it. I’m fine…” The next second, Orion’s face filled with disgust. “Seraphina! You’re revolting. You’re even using our child as a bargaining chip to compete for favor. Stay in there and reflect on yourself!” In the hunting grounds, the cold wind made my teeth chatter. My stomach hurt more and more. I ran desperately. The werewolves behind me chased closer and closer. A werewolf pounced. Its claws tore through my hind leg. Blood gushed out. I fell to the ground, then struggled to get up again. Another werewolf charged. Its fangs sank into my shoulder. I screamed in pain, desperately shook it off, and kept running forward. Until a third werewolf pounced and slammed hard into my abdomen. Intense pain struck. A rush of hot liquid burst from my body. I looked down. Blood ran down my legs, and a tiny body fell from beneath me. I couldn’t even see clearly whether my child was a boy or a girl. The next second, the wolf pack behind me swarmed forward, fighting over that mass of flesh and blood. I screamed in anguish and lunged forward, trying to retrieve my child. But the werewolves knocked me aside. I could only watch helplessly as that tiny body disappeared in the werewolves’ struggle. My blood spilled onto the dirt of the hunting grounds, staining a large patch red. I stopped breathing amid my agonized screams. And what was Orion doing at that time? He had summoned the most authoritative werewolf doctors of the Ashpelt Pack, all to prevent the shallow burns on Beatrix’s arm from scarring. He bought countless roses and bid on globally unique jewelry to present to Beatrix, hoping only that his frightened white moonlight wouldn’t be afraid anymore. And when someone tried to report news about me to him, he impatiently interrupted, “Even if she died, she brought it on herself.” … “Alright, it’s almost her due date in two days. Bring Seraphina here to apologize to Beatrix. She’s been in the hunting grounds so long, she must be filthy. Have her wash up before coming.” Orion held Beatrix on his lap while working. Beatrix’s hand kept drawing circles on his chest. “Why don’t we just forget it? I believe Seraphina didn’t mean it. At the end of the day, I shouldn’t have come back. But I just wanted to be by your side. I really didn’t mean to make you two fight because of me.” Orion indulgently caught her wandering hand. “Beatrix, you’re my savior. Just for that alone, I’ll protect you forever. She’s my wife—she should be tolerant of you along with me. But instead she deliberately targets you every time, provoking you.” “I can’t even imagine—if the fire hadn’t been put out in time, I might never forgive myself for the rest of my life.” Hearing this, a flash of unnaturalness crossed Beatrix’s face. She shrank her neck and said nothing more.

A bitter smile escaped the corner of my mouth. Half a year ago, Beatrix’s fated mate died, so Beatrix, who had been staying abroad, suddenly returned home. Orion said she was alone and helpless. Without even giving me a heads-up, he brought her back to live with us. At first, I didn’t think much of it. I thought Beatrix had long since stopped liking Orion. I even felt sorry for Beatrix, an orphan, and took care of her in every way. Until one time, she poured a glass of red wine over her own head, then knelt down and begged me to leave her alone. After that, Orion started looking at me strangely. That day he wouldn’t listen to my explanation at all. He threw me in the confinement room and starved me for three days, warning me viciously, “Seraphina, you’ve disappointed me so much! Beatrix’s significance to me is beyond your imagination. If you target Beatrix again, even if you’re my wife, I’ll make you pay.” Things like this happened repeatedly after that. Orion’s gaze toward me grew colder and colder. Originally, I planned to ask Orion for a rejection after the child was born. But I never expected Beatrix would suddenly attempt suicide by fire. And the culprit behind her self-immolation was supposedly the abusive messages and vicious voice recordings I had sent her. Those words were indeed hard to accept, but they weren’t said by me. But Orion didn’t believe me. He felt so sorry for Beatrix that his eyes turned red. He didn’t even care about our soon-to-be-born child—he just wanted to vent his beloved’s anger. “Alpha Orion… Luna Seraphina, she seems to… seems to… You’d better go see for yourself.” Orion was startled. Then his face filled with impatience. “After all this time, she still dares to throw a tantrum?!” Beta Leo hesitated, but finally said with difficulty, “No, Alpha Orion. It’s Luna Seraphina. We found her, but… but she… doesn’t seem to be breathing…” Orion’s hand, which had been holding Beatrix, froze. After a few seconds of silence, he laughed dismissively. “Her methods of escaping punishment are getting more sophisticated. To avoid kneeling and apologizing to Beatrix, she’s even thought of playing dead?!” “Tell her that even if she dies, she has to apologize to Beatrix first! Otherwise, don’t blame me for being rude!” Cold sweat began to bead on Leo’s forehead. He wanted to say something more, but seeing Orion’s furious face, he ultimately withdrew. Beatrix lifted her head with an innocent expression. “Orion, why don’t we just forget it? Even though Seraphina doesn’t like me and makes things difficult for me everywhere, she is your wife after all. As long as I can stay by your side, I can endure it.” Orion held her even tighter. “Beatrix, you don’t need to be afraid of that petty woman Seraphina. She’s not worth a single strand of your hair. This time I have to teach her a lesson so she’ll behave in the future.” “But…” “Alright, listen to Orion. You can’t go wrong.” A teardrop fell on the back of my hand. Only then did I realize that at some point, tears were streaming down my face. So, souls can feel heartache too? Orion said nothing more, but during his next hour of work, he was constantly distracted. In the span of an hour, he inadvertently glanced toward the door no fewer than ten times. Finally, he slammed his laptop shut and irritably ran his fingers through his hair. Having completely lost his patience, he gently coaxed Beatrix, “Beatrix, I don’t know what kind of trick Seraphina is playing. I’m going to drag her here to apologize to you right now.”

Arriving at the entrance to the hunting grounds. He strode inside. Before he got close, he saw the dirt stained red with blood. The smell of blood in the air hadn’t yet dissipated. He covered his nose. “Why does it stink so much? What the hell is that woman Seraphina doing?!” Hearing this, cold sweat poured from Leo’s forehead. “Alpha Orion, maybe you should just see for yourself…” He stepped aside. Revealing me, covered by a white cloth, and a small white bundle next to it. Orion’s hand moved back and forth between the two white cloths. Before he knew it, his brow was furrowed in uncertainty. He seemed hesitant. I clutched my chest. Knowing what he was about to see, my heart ached unbearably, yet I couldn’t bear to look away. Finally, he reached his hand toward that small bundle. He had just lifted the white cloth when a sharp cry came from behind him. “Orion, why did you bring a dead cat corpse over here?! Did you forget? I’m allergic to cat fur! I hate stray cats the most!” Beatrix shrieked and burrowed into Orion’s arms. Orion’s panicked expression froze. He quickly seemed to come to his senses and kicked my child’s corpse away with one foot. He then ordered people to bring over several wild dogs. The beasts, smelling meat, swarmed forward. I screamed and lunged forward, but I couldn’t do anything. I questioned him frantically, bit and clawed at him, but it was useless. I was just a soul now. No matter how much pain I felt, no one could see it. But I truly wasn’t willing to accept this. What did I do wrong?! What did my child do wrong?! Looking at the ground full of scraps, a flash of malice crossed Beatrix’s eyes. Orion frowned. “Stop playing tricks. Where’s Seraphina?! Where the hell is she?!” “Driving Beatrix to attempt suicide wasn’t enough—now she’s using a dead cat corpse to scare Beatrix! I never knew she was so vicious!” “Seraphina! Aren’t you the one who values the child most? If you don’t come out, once the child is born, we’re getting divorced and breaking the mate bond! You can’t win custody from me! You’ll never see the child again for the rest of your life!” I sat dazed on the ground, crying and laughing. Yes, my parents were already gone. Orion had betrayed me too. What I valued most was this child. But he was killed by his own father, and in the end, not even his bones remained! Orion! You will definitely go to hell! He shouted angrily, demanding that I come out. But no one responded. Finally, Leo steeled himself and walked over. While slowly lifting the white cloth covering my corpse, he said tremblingly, “Alpha Orion, Luna Seraphina is right here! As for the child, you just fed him to the wild dogs…”

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When Ethan came home after his night shift, I set his favorite pasta on the table. I wanted to tell him that my mom had finally agreed to let us get married. But he tossed his car keys on the table and said wearily, “I got married.” “What?” I was confused. “I married one of the new nurses. She’s pregnant. I have to take responsibility for her.” My voice trembled. “Then what were these eight years I spent with you?” Ethan looked up at me and actually smiled. “As long as you’re willing, we can still be family.” I didn’t cry. I just picked up that bowl of pasta, walked to the kitchen, and dumped it in the trash. Ethan frowned. “Sophia, I just worked an all-night shift. I hate it when you give me the silent treatment like this.” I turned to look at him. “When did you two get the marriage license?” He rubbed his temples. “Yesterday at noon.” “Tara finished her night shift. City Hall wasn’t busy, so we just stopped by.” Just stopped by. Yesterday at noon, I was with my mom for her dialysis evaluation. She lay in the hospital bed, gripping my hand, saying, “Sophia, I’ve thought it through. If you’re really set on Ethan, then marry him.” I almost cried right then and immediately sent Ethan a message: “My mom agreed to let us get married.” He didn’t reply. Turns out he was at City Hall taking wedding photos with another woman. I asked, “Does she know about me?” Ethan was silent for two seconds. “Yes. She doesn’t mind. She’s young and insecure. She cried and said she didn’t want a wedding ceremony, just wanted to legally stand by my side.” I laughed. “Then after eight years with you, where am I supposed to stand?” Ethan looked up at me. “Sophia, you haven’t lost out these eight years. You’ve been living in my house rent-free.” I finally understood. His so-called compensation was letting me continue living here. Continue cleaning up after him, continue taking care of him. Just with my status changed from girlfriend to housekeeper. I went into the bedroom to pack my things. When I opened the closet, my hand froze. There was a row of unfamiliar women’s clothes inside. Pink sweaters, dresses, a nurse’s jacket. In the shoe cabinet was a pair of white sneakers. On the bathroom counter was a new bottle of face wash. On the nightstand was a thin hair tie. I picked it up and asked him, “She’s moving in?” Ethan stood in the doorway and said: “Tara can’t sleep alone in the dorm.” “So she’s sleeping in my bed from now on?” I took off the ring he’d given me and placed it on the table. It was a silver ring he’d bought the year he finished his hospital internship. He said once he became a doctor, he’d replace it with a diamond ring. Later, when he became a doctor, he said he’d buy me a ring after he bought a house. But now, he was married. I pulled out my suitcase. Ethan suddenly panicked. He wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Sophia, I don’t want to lose you. I’m just settling Tara in first. She can’t live without me. You’re different. You’re mature. You understand me.” Being held by him, I only felt nauseous. The doorbell rang. Tara stood at the door, her face small, her eyes red. She was wearing a men’s jacket. The one I’d waited in line for two hours to buy for Ethan last winter. “Ethan, I came to get my marriage certificate.” Then she looked at me and smiled. “Sophia, you’re here too.” I said nothing. She walked straight into the bedroom like she owned the place and opened my nightstand drawer. The marriage certificate was pressed under an old photo album. On top of the album was a letter. A letter my mom had written to Ethan. She’d just finished writing it yesterday and asked me to deliver it. The first line on the paper read: “Ethan, I’m entrusting Sophia to you from now on.” Tara picked up the letter and blinked. “Is this from your mom to you two? Sorry, should I not be reading this?” I reached out to take it. But Ethan grabbed it first. A corner of the paper tore. I watched him standing protectively in front of Tara and suddenly felt like this house was very unfamiliar. I’d lived here for five years. But now standing here, I felt like an outsider.

I forcibly snatched the letter back. Tara hid behind Ethan. Ethan’s face darkened. “Sophia, you’re emotionally unstable right now. Don’t go to the hospital tomorrow.” I looked at him. “I’m the head of the lab department. I don’t answer to emergency room doctors.” Tara’s tears fell instantly. “Sophia, I really didn’t mean to take what’s yours. I just love Ethan too much.” I laughed out loud. “Well, you sure know how to love—you loved your way right into someone else’s home.” Ethan lowered his voice. “Don’t be so harsh.” My phone rang. It was the dialysis center. “Ms. Walker, your mother is experiencing sudden chest tightness and unstable blood pressure. Please come immediately.” I grabbed my bag and left. Ethan instinctively followed. My heart actually relaxed for a moment. The next second, Tara clutched her stomach and crouched down. “Ethan, I’m dizzy…” “I didn’t eat last night. It might be low blood sugar.” Ethan stopped in his tracks. He glanced at me. “You take a cab first.” “I’ll take her to the ER. I’ll be right there.” I said nothing. As the elevator doors closed, I saw him pick Tara up in his arms. In the taxi, I called him three times. No one answered. At the hospital, my mom’s face was ashen. A nurse pushed a risk disclosure form in front of me. “Sign this. She might need emergency dialysis or even resuscitation.” My hand shook so much I couldn’t write my name. For eight years, Ethan always said, “Your mom is my mom from now on.” He said I didn’t need to be afraid. He said he’d handle everything at the hospital. But when the day finally came, I was the one signing. Outside the emergency room, I opened my phone. The first post on my feed was from Ethan. In the photo, he and Tara were holding up their marriage certificate. Caption: For the rest of our lives, please take care of me. Posted at the exact time I made my third call. A bunch of ER colleagues had liked it. Tara replied: “Thank you everyone! Ethan says he’s treating everyone to a big dinner tonight.” I stared at those words as my palms slowly went cold. When my mom woke up, her first words were, “Where’s Ethan?” I pressed my phone against my palm. “He’s treating a critical patient.” “Doctors are busy. I understand.” The family member from the next bed suddenly leaned over. “Isn’t your son-in-law Dr. Hayes? He got married, but the bride isn’t your daughter?” She shoved her phone in front of my mom’s face. I couldn’t stop her in time. My mom saw the photo and her breathing suddenly became rapid. The monitor immediately started beeping. I rushed out to call a doctor. Running to the nurses’ station, I saw Ethan. He was holding Tara’s hand, handing out wedding invitations to the ER staff. Someone teased, “Dr. Hayes, you kept this well hidden.” Tara blushed and leaned against him. Ethan saw me and frowned. His first words were: “How did you upset your mom like this?” I stood there, still clutching my mom’s critical condition notice in my hand. I threw the report in his face. “Ethan Hayes, where do you get the nerve?” The ER fell silent. Tara’s tears fell again. She said softly, “Sophia, don’t blame Ethan. It’s my fault.” Ethan pulled her behind him. “This is a hospital. Don’t make a scene.” I looked at the invitation in his hand and suddenly found it hilarious.

I didn’t make a scene. I just asked him in front of everyone: “What right do you have to blame me?” No one in the ER said a word. Tara leaned against Ethan, crying softly. Ethan lowered his voice. “Sophia, don’t interfere with work.” “You’re the one interfering with work.” “My mom is in the observation room, and you’re here celebrating your marriage.” Someone looked down, pretending to organize charts. Tara suddenly covered her mouth. “I feel sick…” The ER colleagues immediately started making noise. “Just got married and already pregnant? Dr. Hayes works fast.” Ethan’s expression changed. He immediately helped Tara up. “Let’s draw blood first and check.” My mom was still in the observation room. But he stayed by Tara’s side every step of the way for the blood draw. I stood at the lab window and watched him personally label the blood collection tubes. His movements were carefully precise and piercing to watch. She touched her belly, lowering her head with a smile. “I hope the baby grows up healthy.” Ethan said in front of his colleagues: “Once we have a child, I’ll give you a proper home.” I thought that sentence had nothing to do with me. Until that evening, when I returned to that house and saw an agreement on the table. Housing Arrangement Agreement. It stated: To facilitate Tara’s pregnancy, Sophia voluntarily moves out of the master bedroom. Holding the paper, I laughed for a long time. The down payment for that house was two hundred thousand dollars—money I paid. The renovation costs—I charged to my credit card. For years, I’d transferred three thousand dollars to Ethan every month for the mortgage. Only his name was on the deed. Because he said doctors could get loans more easily. He said, “Sophia, there’s no yours and mine between us.” Now he was making it very clear. The master bedroom for Tara. I even had to give up my bed. I asked, “What does this agreement mean?” Ethan sat on the couch. “Tara is pregnant. The master bedroom gets better sunlight. It’s better for the pregnancy.” I spread the agreement in front of him. “What about my two hundred thousand?” “What about the mortgage payments?” He frowned. “Eight years together, don’t make it sound so ugly.” Tara came out of the kitchen with a glass of water. She was wearing an apron, looking like the lady of the house. “Sophia, don’t worry. I won’t live here for free.” “I’ll give you eight hundred a month. Is that okay?” I almost laughed in disbelief. “Eight hundred?” “Are you joking?” I picked up the agreement and tore it up. Ethan suddenly grabbed my wrist. “If you keep this up, I’ll have to transfer your mom to a regular ward first.” I looked up at him. He continued: “And the dialysis scheduling doesn’t have to go through me either.” The room was very quiet. Tara stopped crying. She stood behind Ethan, looking down at me. Her expression was obedient. And also smug. I slowly pulled my hand away. “Ethan Hayes, you’re threatening me with my mom’s life?” He avoided my gaze. “I just hope you’ll calm down.” I nodded. “Fine.” “I’ll calm down enough to make you regret this.”

The next day, I went to the lab department as usual. The first thing I did when I entered the office was export all the transfer records I’d made to Ethan over the years. Including the expenses I’d covered when his father was hospitalized. And the chat records showing he’d been managing my mom’s medical files. I uploaded them all to the cloud, one by one. Ethan sent me a message. “Don’t make this bigger. Let’s talk tonight when you get home.” I didn’t reply. At ten in the morning, Tara came to the lab window. She handed me a blood test order. “Sophia, I’m pregnant. Can you expedite it for me?” The office instantly went quiet. I followed protocol and said, “Register, pay, and wait in line.” Tara’s eyes reddened. “Are you still mad at me?” I pushed the order back. “This is a hospital, not your living room.” She bit her lip and left. To avoid any conflict of interest, I personally handed the sample to a colleague for processing and recorded everything. At noon, the results came out. She wasn’t pregnant at all! Tara looked at the results and her face changed completely. Half an hour later, word came from the ER. Tara had abdominal pain and bleeding between her legs—suspected miscarriage. Tara appeared, supported by a nurse. Her face was pale, her hand covering her stomach. “Sophia, you can hate me. But the baby is innocent.” My colleagues looked at me differently. The director came over too. “Sophia, suspend your work for now and cooperate with the investigation.” I said, “Check the surveillance and the records.” Ethan interrupted me. “Tara miscarried because she was traumatized.” I looked at him: “How can someone who isn’t pregnant have a miscarriage?” Tara cried, trembling. Ethan threw a stack of documents in front of me. The papers scattered. They were notices about my mom’s dialysis deposit and bed adjustment applications. He looked at me coldly. “Kneel and apologize to Tara right now. I’ll make sure your mom can use the machine tonight.” Everyone in the department was watching me. My professional reputation. My mom’s life. My eight years of devotion. He compressed it all into one apology. I bent down to pick up the documents. At the bottom was a test order from another hospital. Tara had it done last week. It stated: No evidence of pregnancy. I looked up at him. His face finally showed panic. Tara screamed, “That’s not mine!” The next second, the director’s office door was pushed open. Someone from the hospital’s disciplinary office stood in the doorway. “Sophia Walker, regarding your suspected tampering with lab reports, please immediately accept suspension pending investigation.”

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On my wedding night, I caught my good friend Judson and my wife Doman in bed together. Crying, they claimed they were drunk and confused. They knelt at my door for three days and three nights. When they saw I was determined to divorce, Doman slit her wrists, and Judson got a vasectomy. Under the repeated persuasion of friends and family, I eventually softened. For seven years, she was gentle and considerate. Everyone praised her for knowing her mistake and reforming. Until my father-in-law Andrew’s birthday, when my six-year-old sister-in-law hugged Doman’s leg and asked: “Where’s my daddy?” I smiled and pointed at Andrew behind me: “Jones, your dad is right there, isn’t he?” Jones turned her head and said crisply: “I’m talking about my real daddy.” I froze and looked awkwardly at Doman. Her expression remained calm as she looked up at me and said: “Samuel, there’s something I never told you. Actually, Jones isn’t my parents’ child. She’s mine and Judson’s daughter.” I heard her words and froze in place. My brain felt like someone had punched it hard. It was buzzing. “What did you say?” My voice was trembling, full of disbelief. Doman put Jones down and patted her back: “Be good, go to Grandma.” Jones bounced over to my mother-in-law Eve. Eve scooped her up, her eyes darting away, not daring to look at me. Doman turned around, her expression so calm it was chilling. “Jones is mine and Judson’s child. Judson got a vasectomy. He’ll never have children in this lifetime, so I gave birth to her.” She paused, looking at Jones who was playing with Eve’s hair, her tone as casual as discussing what to eat today. “I originally planned to keep it from you for life.” I staggered back a step, grabbing the dining table behind me to keep from falling. “Then you… why are you telling me now?” My throat felt like it had been scraped with sandpaper. Every word tasted of blood. Before Doman could speak, Andrew stood up. He looked at me, his voice heavy: “It was my idea.” I jerked my head up to look at him. “Jones is already six years old. Your mom and I are getting old. We can’t raise a child properly.” “We don’t want to keep making this mistake!” My chest felt like someone was squeezing it. I couldn’t breathe. Eve suddenly put Jones down and pushed her toward the bedroom: “Jones, be good, go play inside. I’ll come keep you company in a bit.” When the bedroom door closed, she turned around. The expression on her face had completely changed. “Samuel, don’t blame Doman. If you hadn’t insisted on divorce back then, Judson wouldn’t have gotten a vasectomy. We were the ones who told Doman to give birth.” She paused, her tone self-righteous: “Judson is our adopted son. We had to leave him an heir!” My brain went blank. Doman had said back then that Eve had a late-life pregnancy and was afraid of gossip, so she went to Europe to give birth. Doman went along to take care of her for a whole year. I thought she was being filial. It turned out it wasn’t Eve having a baby. It was her having a baby. I raised my head and looked at Doman. This woman I had loved for ten years. We met in college and married after graduation. I thought we were a perfect match. But on our wedding night, she rolled into bed with her adoptive brother, my best friend. I asked for a divorce. She knelt on the ground begging, her forehead hitting the floor with loud thuds. Judson knelt beside her, a grown man trembling and crying. Seeing I wouldn’t compromise, the next day, she slit her wrists. When I rushed to the hospital, she lay in the bed, pale as paper, but gripping my hand tightly. “Samuel, I was wrong… please don’t divorce me…” “Without you, I’ll really die…” I softened. Judson also got a vasectomy that same day, saying he would spend the rest of his life atoning. Everyone urged me: “She slit her wrists, he got a vasectomy. What more do you want?” I thought about it for a whole month, convincing myself to forgive her, convincing myself to forget that night, convincing myself to love her again. I did it. For seven years, I forgot about that incident and treated her sincerely. I thought she had really changed. But now it seemed, all of this was just a joke! After a long silence, I raised my head and stared coldly at Doman, saying word by word: “Doman, let’s get divorced.” My voice was so soft I could barely hear it myself. When the words fell, Andrew and Eve’s expressions changed completely. Doman also froze, her brows furrowing tighter. “Over such a small matter?” She turned her head, impatience in her tone. I laughed, laughed until my eyes stung. “Small matter?” “Doman, you had someone else’s child and raised her right under my nose. That’s a small matter?” She sighed, turned to look at me, her eyes calm. “Samuel.” She placed her hand on her lower abdomen. “I’m pregnant.” “Are you sure you want to divorce me?”

I froze at her words. “What did you say?” Doman removed her hand from her abdomen and looked up at me, her eyes as calm as a stagnant pool. “Your dad has late-stage liver cancer. He doesn’t have much time left.” “Before he dies, doesn’t he just want to see you have a child?” I felt like all the strength had been drained from my body. These past seven years, I had mentioned having a child to Doman countless times. The first year, she said her career was just starting, to wait a bit longer. The second year, she said she wanted to enjoy our two-person world for a few more years. The third and fourth years, she always said she was busy, always said there was no rush. I thought she didn’t want children. I thought she was really planning for our future. But now, she was using a child as leverage to threaten me. In my mind, I saw my father in his hospital bed. When I visited him last week, he was so thin he was unrecognizable, yet he still held my hand and smiled. “Samuel, I don’t have many regrets in this life. I just want to see you have a child.” “You and Doman have been together seven years. It’s time to have a child.” I kept my head down, unable to speak. He patted my hand, smiling with expectation. “It’s okay, I can still hold on. I can still help you take care of the baby.” I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. Eve came over, her tone softening. “Samuel, you and Doman have been together so many years. Can you really bear to divorce?” Andrew also walked over, his head down as he said in a muffled voice: “Doman did wrong in this matter, but these years… how she’s treated you, you know in your heart.” “For the child’s sake, both of you back down a bit.” I opened my eyes suddenly, a bitter smile pulling at the corner of my mouth. Had Doman treated me well? Yes. After that incident, she was attentive to me in every way. Every morning when I opened my eyes, there was always a pressed shirt at the bedside. Whatever I liked to eat, she learned to make it at home. No matter how troublesome, she was willing to learn. When I worked overtime until late at night, she always left a light on, with soup warming in the pot. When I had a fever and was hospitalized, she stayed by my bed for three days and nights without closing her eyes. Everyone said I was lucky. “Your wife treats you so well. I’ve never seen anyone so considerate.” “You two are such a perfect match. You’ll definitely grow old together.” Even Andrew and Eve, because of that incident back then, were especially good to me. During holidays, Andrew personally cooked my favorite dishes. When my parents visited, Eve would accompany them shopping all day without complaining. I thought she had really changed. I thought the woman who knelt before me and slit her wrists was really spending the rest of her life in repentance. But it turned out all of this was just an act performed for me. I raised my head and looked at the three people in front of me, saying hoarsely: “So, what do you want me to do?” “Just acknowledge this child?” As soon as I finished speaking, Doman pulled out a document from her bag and handed it to me. “This is a property division agreement.” I looked down. The content was painfully glaring. It stated that no matter how many children Doman and I had in the future, 70% of the family assets would belong to Jones. Including the old house my dad left me. I was stunned and looked up at her in disbelief: “You want me to leave most of my assets to your illegitimate daughter?” Doman showed no guilt. She looked at me with complete self-righteousness. “Samuel, you don’t like Jones. In the future, you definitely won’t be able to treat both children equally.” “I’m just fighting for a bit more for Jones. Is that wrong?” “I just want to give my child security.” I opened my mouth but couldn’t speak for a moment. I just felt it was ridiculous. She wanted to give her child security, so she had to sacrifice my interests and my child’s interests? Why should I? I was about to argue when the doorbell suddenly rang. Eve walked over to open the door. Standing outside was a man in casual clothes, with a faint smile on his face: “I’m back.”

Judson’s voice carried into the living room. Everyone froze. Andrew and Eve’s faces first flashed with disbelief, then were overtaken by enormous joy. “Judson? Really?” Doman was even more excited, her eyes reddening. She unconsciously walked a few steps toward the door. Judson entered, first holding Eve’s hand and saying gently: “Mom, I’m back.” His gaze swept across the room. When he saw me, the smile at the corner of his mouth stiffened. “Samuel, you’re here too.” I forced out a smile that looked worse than crying. Seven years. Judson seemed not to have changed at all, except for a bit more gentleness in his expression. Did he know Doman had given birth to his child? Just as I was thinking this, the bedroom door suddenly pushed open. Jones, hearing the sound, ran out. The moment she saw Judson, her eyes lit up. Like a little butterfly, she flew into his arms. “Daddy! You’re finally here! I missed you so much!” Judson quickly held the child in his arms, the affection in his eyes overflowing. “I missed you too.” Jones wrapped her arms around his neck and looked at Doman, saying in a sweet voice: “Mommy missed you too. She looks at your photos every day.” Hearing this, Judson looked up at Doman, his gaze tender as water. Watching their happy family of three, I felt cold all over. Finally, I just laughed in anger. So they had known all along. Only I, like a fool, had been kept in the dark for seven whole years. I looked at Judson, my voice cold as ice. “Don’t you owe me an explanation?” I stared at him hard, asking word by word: “Didn’t you say you would never appear in front of me again?” As soon as I finished speaking, the smile on Judson’s face froze. He handed the child to Eve and looked at me, struggling to speak: “Samuel, I’m sorry, I…” “Enough!” Before he could finish, Doman sharply interrupted. She quickly walked to Judson’s side and glared at me: “Samuel, Judson finally came back. Are you going to drive him away again?!” Andrew and Eve also snapped out of it and immediately glowered at me. “Samuel, Judson has been gone for seven years. What more do you want?” “Exactly! This is our home. If anyone should leave, it’s you!” Jones also broke free from Eve’s embrace, rushed over, and pushed me hard, screaming: “You’re a bad person! Don’t bully my daddy!” I looked at their united front, looked at Doman’s undisguised disgust toward me. The last trace of warmth in my heart was completely crushed. “Fine, fine… I’ll leave!” Eyes red, I slammed the door and left. Leaving Andrew’s house, I drove toward the hospital. While waiting at a red light, I scrolled to Doman’s Twitter. It was a photo of their family of three. Judson holding Jones, Doman leaning against him, smiling radiantly. The caption read: [A happy family] I laughed, liked it, and left a comment under that post: [Brother becomes lover, sister becomes daughter. Quite happy indeed.] Less than a minute after posting the comment, Doman’s call came through. As soon as I answered, her angry accusations came pouring out: “Samuel, what do you mean?! Delete that comment right now!” I laughed coldly: “Isn’t what I said the truth?” “You!” She was furious. “Fine! You’ll regret this!” With that, she hung up. I tossed my phone to the passenger seat and floored the gas pedal. When I reached the hospital and went upstairs, I saw several nurses rushing a hospital bed toward the emergency room. And lying on the bed was my dad. I froze, my brain going blank. After coming to my senses, I frantically called Doman. “What did you do?!”

On the other end of the phone, her voice was cold and vicious. “What did I do?” “I just called your dad and told him I was going to abort the child in my belly!” “That the Simon family will be without descendants forever!!!” I was so angry my whole body shook. I roared into the phone: “Doman, are you insane! Don’t you know my dad is sick? Don’t you know he can’t handle shock?” “Get over here right now! Come tell my dad you were joking!” Doman laughed coldly: “Who told you to post that stuff on Twitter? Do you know how upset Judson was when he saw it?” “Do you know how much determination it took for him to come back?!” “Samuel, this is the price of speaking carelessly!” With that, she hung up directly. After that, no matter how many times I called, no one answered. Twenty minutes later, the light in the emergency room went out. The doctor came out, removed his mask, and shook his head at me. “There’s not much time left. Go in and see him.” All the strength in my body seemed to drain away. I staggered into the room and held my dad’s icy cold hand. He could no longer speak. He just looked at me weakly, his lips moving slightly. I understood from his lip movements. “Doman… child…” Tears burst from my eyes. I choked out: “Dad, don’t worry, the child is still there!” “She’s just mad at me, talking nonsense. Don’t take it seriously.” In my dad’s cloudy eyes, there seemed to be a glimmer of light. He struggled, as if wanting to say something. I leaned my ear closer and heard him use his last bit of strength to say: “Want… to see… Doman… and the child…” He wanted to see Doman. He wanted to see that unborn child. “Okay, okay, I’ll call her. I’ll call her right now!” With trembling hands, I took out my phone and called Doman’s number over and over, called Andrew’s house… all went unanswered. “Dad, wait, she’ll come soon, very soon…” I held my father’s increasingly cold hand, tears falling in large drops onto the back of his hand. I kept calling and texting, but there was never a response. My dad kept looking toward the doorway, the light in his eyes dimming bit by bit, little by little. Finally, I could only watch as my dad’s hand slowly dropped, watch as the line representing his heartbeat on the monitor became a flat line. “Dad——!!!” I knelt by the hospital bed, letting out a beast-like wail. Over the next few days, I handled my father’s funeral arrangements alone, without notifying anyone from Doman’s family. It wasn’t until a week later that my phone screen lit up. It was a message from Doman. [Tomorrow my parents are throwing a welcome party for Judson and announcing Jones’s identity. We’ll say Jones is our child to outsiders!] I looked at the words on the screen, expressionless. Seeing I didn’t reply, she sent a few more messages. [Alright, I know you’re still angry.] [Don’t worry, after the party ends, I’ll go with you to see Dad.] [We’ll bring Jones too, to make him happy.] [Remember to come tomorrow!] Seeing her mention my dad, a cold smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. I picked up my phone and replied with three words: [Got it.] After sending the message, I looked at the document envelope on the table. Doman, don’t worry. Not only will I come, I’ll prepare an unforgettable gift for all of you. The next afternoon, I appeared at the party on time. The hotel banquet hall was crowded. All the guests were relatives and friends from Doman’s side. Andrew and Eve stood on stage, beaming. “We’ve invited everyone here today to announce some great news!” “Our adopted son Judson, after working overseas for seven years, has finally come home!” Thunderous applause erupted below. Judson stood to the side in a sharp suit, smiling and nodding. Finally, Doman led Jones onto the stage. She took the microphone, smiling gently and gracefully. “There’s one more thing we want to share with everyone. Actually, Jones is mine and Samuel’s daughter.” She followed yesterday’s script, relating Jones’s “background” in detail. Finally, she looked at me with deep affection and said softly: “Now, let my husband, Samuel, say a few words too!” I was about to stand when Eve leaned close to my ear and whispered threateningly: “Don’t say anything crazy up there, or you’ll regret it!” I smiled, picked up the document envelope, and walked onto the stage. I took the microphone from Doman’s hand. Facing the crowd below, I said clearly, word by word: “Thank you all for coming today to attend mine and Doman’s—divorce party.” As soon as those words left my mouth, the entire room fell deathly silent.

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On the fifth day of my husband Owen’s business trip, his cousin Louise suddenly sent me a message. “Bruna, I saw the obituary Owen posted on Ins. I’m in postpartum confinement right now, so I can’t make it to your father’s funeral. Don’t be too sad. Take care of yourself and the baby.” My whole body froze. My dad was perfectly fine. What funeral? Also, Owen and I were childfree—where did this baby come from? I suppressed my inner unease and gave her a brief reply. Then I used a burner account, pretending to be his relative, and added Owen on Ins. Sure enough, I saw that obituary! I immediately drove three hours to the funeral venue. In the solemn funeral hall, I met Owen’s other “wife” from his Ins. She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes, her voice choked with emotion: “You must be Owen’s relative, right? Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to attend my father’s funeral.” My heart surged with shock as I carefully examined the woman before me. She wore an expensive black dress and only light makeup, yet it was clear she was extremely well-maintained. I tried to calm myself down, but my voice still trembled uncontrollably: “Where’s Owen?” “He’s…” “Mommy!” Before Emily could finish, a five or six-year-old boy rushed right over to her. My breath caught. That face was like a miniature version of Owen. Counting the time, I’d been married for five years. That meant Owen had been juggling two women at almost the same time. So, did she know about my existence? Between her and me, who was the mistress? After our marriage, Owen said he was afraid I’d work too hard, so he wanted us to be childfree. His family never gave me trouble over this even once. I’d always been touched by his thoughtfulness. Never did I imagine the truth was that he’d had a son with another woman! Emily crouched down and ruffled the child’s hair. A smile appeared on her pale face: “Jimmy, be good. I still have things to do. Go find Grandma.” My heart jolted. Mother-in-law Antonelli actually knew about all this! The boy nodded obediently and ran to an old lady. That was none other than Antonelli, who had been “bedridden with chronic illness.” Right now, she was holding her grandson and walking as spryly as could be. In my memory, from the first time I met Antonelli, she’d been sickly. Every day she took more pills than she ate food, and year-round she was practically a hospital regular. The reimbursement receipts Owen submitted piled up like a small mountain. My expression darkened, my voice trembling as I probed with a remark: “The old lady seems really healthy.” Emily didn’t notice my abnormal reaction. She sighed, her words carrying gratitude: “Yes, Antonelli loves me like her own daughter. She raised the child.” “I don’t work, and she gives me $20,000 in living expenses every month.” My heart clenched violently, and a suffocating feeling instantly enveloped my entire body. Owen lived with my family. Shortly after our marriage, he’d had surgery for a severe herniated disc. Since then, he’d been unemployed at home, responsible for taking care of household meals and chores. To support the family, I threw myself into business trips and overtime. I worked my way up from director to CEO, and naturally my salary rose accordingly. My father-in-law passed away early, and Owen had depended on Antonelli. To put his mind at ease, I’d suggested several times that we bring Antonelli to live with us, but he’d refused with various excuses. So I transferred $22,000 to Antonelli every month for medical and living expenses. It turned out this mother-son pair had been using it all to support his mistress and bastard child! There were quite a few guests at the wake. Emily didn’t notice my emotional state and brought me over to Owen’s relatives. I looked at these people’s faces—each one more unfamiliar than the last. Yet they all acted very familiar with Emily. “Emily, you’re the apple of Owen’s eye.” “For him and the child, you must take care of yourself.” Emily smiled bitterly, her left hand moving to her lower abdomen. “Don’t worry, I will.” They even had a second child on the way! I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, yet I felt no pain. Using the excuse that his hometown was too far, Owen had even kept our wedding simple. After marriage, I’d never heard of him keeping in touch with any relatives. I’d had my doubts. But he would sigh heavily and say that after his father died early, those relatives bullied him and his mother. Naturally, there wasn’t much point in keeping in touch. Only now did I understand—these relatives weren’t avoiding contact with him. They were just avoiding contact with me! In their eyes, they only recognized Emily as Owen’s wife. Owen, what kind of enormous trap did you set for me?!

The relatives around them kept praising Emily: “Owen is really good to you. I heard he claimed to be taking leave for surgery, but actually came home to keep you company. What a good man!” “Such strong work capability, always the top salesperson, and he hands over all his money, even has to report his pocket money to you.” “You don’t know how much we all envy you.” Emily’s face flushed, happiness practically overflowing from her eyes. “I’ve told him too that he needs to spend money when he’s out, and doesn’t need to be so hard on himself.” “But he cares about me, says he’s afraid I won’t feel secure, and he’s willing to let me manage things.” Only then did I realize—the surgery, being unemployed—it was all fake! “I heard Owen is about to be promoted to director, right?” “He’s so capable, he’ll definitely treat his wife even better in the future.” My heart jolted again. Director? How utterly ridiculous! Owen had a job, and I didn’t know. He had such a high salary, yet still felt entitled to spend my earnings. I’d never even seen him bring home a single penny! In reality, he’d given it all to another woman, supporting another household! Emily’s tone was gentle as she continued: “Owen is the best person I’ve ever met. Being able to marry him is the greatest blessing of my life.” “When he heard something happened to my dad, he rushed over immediately and arranged this entire funeral.” A few days ago, Owen had looked flustered, saying he needed to accompany a newly employed friend on a business trip. In reality, he came to be this woman’s support. And I’d thought he was being loyal to his friends. Turns out, the clown was me all along. “Not only that, everyone knows he’s afraid you’ll get tired, so he even hired a housekeeper for you.” “Emily, look how well-maintained you are, like a girl in her early twenties. You don’t look like a mother at all.” I thought of looking in the mirror before leaving—the exhausted face staring back at me. I was only thirty, but excessive overtime and running myself ragged for our small household had left me haggard. Yet the woman before me had clear eyes, unburdened by daily necessities. All because she had an Owen who loved her to the bone. But I didn’t. Emily’s eyes curved into crescents, the grief from our first meeting already more than half gone. “What touches me most is how good he is to my parents—so much better than me, their own daughter.” “He visits them every week, bringing all kinds of nutritional supplements. Each time he also transfers tens of thousands to them.” Perhaps mentioning her late father, Emily couldn’t help but shed two more tears. Because my dad was rather domineering, he disagreed with Owen and me being together from the start. I was blind, insisting I had to marry him. After marriage, to protect his pitiful little ego. I resolutely moved out of my villa and bought a small two-bedroom to have our own little world. Though it wasn’t far from my dad’s house, I rarely went back because of work. Owen would only visit my dad during holidays, going through the motions perfunctorily. It seemed cold, yet I couldn’t pick out any specific faults. He spent four days almost every week visiting his “sick” mother Antonelli. In reality, he came here to reunite with Emily’s family. He even used the William family’s money to give to his “in-laws” here. What a “good son-in-law”!

Owen called Emily: “Honey, I’ve bought everything needed for the burial.” “Don’t worry, everything for our dad is absolutely the best.” “Stop crying so much. You need to take care of your health. Our family will depend on you from now on.” Emily was moved to tears: “Owen, you’re the one who works hardest for our family.” “Don’t rush. There’s still time. Drive carefully and stay safe.” After hanging up, an old lady in a wheelchair came to Emily’s side. “Emily, where’s Owen?” Emily wiped away her tears and forced a smile. “Mom, he’ll be home soon.” She looked at me again. “I still have things to attend to. Could you help look after my mom?” With that, she turned to greet other newly arrived guests. Emily’s mother Laura sighed softly: “Emily’s father passed away suddenly. Owen prepared this wheelchair for me, afraid I’d be overcome with grief.” “He means well, so I can’t refuse this kindness.” Mentioning Owen, Laura’s face filled with pride. My heart had already gone numb with pain. Inadvertently, I caught sight of the gold earrings on Laura’s ears—they were my mother’s heirlooms! I thought I was seeing things, so I leaned closer to confirm several times. Both earrings had scratches I’d accidentally made as a mischievous child. In exactly the same positions! I was certain—these were my mother’s belongings! Inner fury surged up, rushing straight to my head. I reached out my hand, wanting nothing more than to rip them off right now and burn all bridges! But ultimately reason prevailed over impulse, and I didn’t do it! I did want to blow up this scene, but not to become a laughingstock! Making a scene like that would only make people think I was crazy. That would be too easy on Owen and this family. I retracted my hand frozen in midair. Laura asked me: “Are you married?” I tried to keep my tone steady: “Yes.” “How does your husband treat you?” “He cheated on me, wouldn’t let me have children, but secretly had a bastard with some tramp. He even used my family’s money to support that household.” Laura was slightly stunned, seemingly not expecting me to say such things, then anger appeared on her face. “Disgusting! That man is absolute trash, and that mistress and her family are no good either.” Her words actually carried some indignation on my behalf. “People like that belong in hell.” “You can’t let them off easy, or they’ll think you’re a pushover.” Coincidentally, that’s exactly what I was thinking. Just then, Owen called me, his tone urgent: “Bruna, something happened with my friend.” “I urgently need fifty thousand dollars. Transfer it to me quickly!” My hand holding the phone kept trembling. I suppressed my rage and asked back: “What happened?” “Did someone in the family die?” Owen was stunned, seemingly not expecting me, who usually supported him unconditionally, to say such a thing: “Why are you talking like that?” “Is that harsh?” “What do I care about their business?” “Figure it out yourselves!” After hanging up, within seconds, a new message from Owen came through. [You usually act so understanding, but you’re actually this heartless.] [Bruna William, don’t regret this!] The next second, Emily’s phone chimed with a new message, and she walked over to Laura. “Mom, Owen says he bought you some jewelry.” Laura smiled and said, “That boy, so extravagant.” While looking at the images Emily passed her on the phone. When I saw that jewelry, I completely froze on the spot. They were all my mother’s heirlooms!

I finally understood what he meant by telling me not to regret it. This man wasn’t satisfied with just giving away the earrings—he had to go this far! It truly refreshed my understanding of him once again. How could someone be so shameless?! “Mom, Owen says it’s only right to be filial to you.” “He also says after Dad’s funeral is over, he’ll take a few days off work to take you out to relax.” “Even if just for us, you must take care of your health.” Emily’s voice trembled, tears instantly welling up. Laura’s eyes filled with tears as she gripped Emily’s hand and nodded firmly. Seeing this scene, my emotions were incredibly complex. A loving mother and filial daughter, a harmonious family. Without all this mess, I might have admired them like everyone else. But all these happy scenes were built on trampling the happiness of me and my entire family! Emily gracefully attended to the guests like a competent hostess. Laura in front of me sighed deeply again, as if talking to me, yet also to herself: “Owen even suggested bringing me to live at his place.” She pulled out a grayscale photo of her late husband from her pocket. She touched the smiling face in the photo, a tear falling. “Owen is a good man who knows how to care for people.” “Emily is with him, so you can rest in peace.” “Even I can close my eyes without worry now.” I instinctively clenched my fists, my brows furrowing. My heart felt like it was being stirred by something, unbearably painful. But whatever is owed must be repaid, no matter who it is, right? Images suddenly flashed through my mind. When Mom was critically ill, I knelt crying by her bed, hands trembling as I accepted the jewelry box. Mom said this was my dowry, and also a safeguard in marriage. Dad had a huge fight with me, determined to stop me from marrying beneath myself to Owen. When he learned I’d gotten married, he fell ill from anger. But he still offered me an olive branch first, telling me if I ever suffered any grievance, he would always be my support. In a trance, I seemed to see myself again, working late at the office that night. My heart full of expectations for a happy marriage. Now, the dream was completely shattered. I couldn’t help clutching the pregnancy test in my bag—one I’d stroked so many times it was creased. It read: Pregnant, eight weeks. I’d planned to tell Owen this good news when he returned from his business trip. But sadly… “Emily, I’m here.” Owen’s shout brought me back from my thoughts. I saw him gently embrace Emily, coaxing her like a child, wiping the tears from her eyes. I’d never seen such deep affection in his eyes. I was also hearing that tender tone for the first time. “Don’t be afraid, I’m here for everything.” I never knew he had such a responsible side. As for the other secrets he was hiding, I had no interest in knowing anymore. Watching the two of them openly display their affection, my heart felt no ripples. Turns out when anger reaches its extreme, it becomes abnormally calm. “By the way, where’s your mom?” “One of your relatives is looking after her.” Owen let out a long breath and nodded. “Then we should really thank them.” With that, his gaze pierced through the crowd and landed on a familiar figure. And I walked up to the podium and picked up the microphone: “Owen, my husband. How are you going to thank me?” The entire funeral hall instantly fell dead silent. His heart skipped a beat. Owen looked up in utter shock. When his eyes met mine, his pupils contracted and all color drained from his face.

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I’d been with Ethan for seven years before my mom finally agreed to meet him. At dinner, the moment my mom raised her cup, Ethan’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and gave my mom an apologetic smile. “Just a moment, I need to take this call.” That moment turned into forty minutes. The food on the table had long since gone cold. When he came back, his jacket reeked of women’s perfume. My mom said nothing. She just looked at me. The disappointment in her eyes hurt more than any words of blame ever could. Ethan sat down beside me and ruffled my hair. “Sorry about that. Had a last-minute issue with a project.” I forced a smile. A few days later, I got my marriage certificate. Only the groom wasn’t him. When my mom left the restaurant, her back was slightly hunched. A taxi waited by the curb. Before she opened the door, she turned to look at me. “Rachel, just trust your own judgment.” Nothing more. I nodded and watched the taxi disappear into the night. Ethan stood behind me, his hand on my shoulder. “Is your mom upset?” “No,” I said. “That’s good.” He let out a relieved breath. “Next time I’ll put my phone on silent. Today was really just an accident.” I turned away, slipping out from under his hand. “What project?” “Hmm?” He looked confused. “You said there was an issue with a project,” I said, meeting his eyes. “What project requires you to step outside for a forty-minute phone call?” He paused, then smiled. “Listen to that tone. You sound like you’re suspicious of me. It was Serena’s proposal—there was a problem with it. It’s her first time handling a project this big, and she panicked. I had to calm her down.” Serena. His assistant. Six months with the company. Twenty-three years old. “That took forty minutes?” “Well,” he said, pulling me close—this time I didn’t dodge. “It should’ve taken ten minutes, but she started crying. I couldn’t just leave her like that. You know how girls are—once the emotions start, it’s a whole thing.” “Not like you, though.” He looked down at me, his gaze tender. “My Rachel always understands.” A bitter taste spread through my chest. It was always like this. He always said I was the most understanding, then felt perfectly justified giving his time and patience to someone else. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “Today was the first time my mom met you.” His hand stilled. “I know.” “She dyed her hair specially for today.” My voice was flat. “She hasn’t dyed her hair in ten years.” Ethan was silent for a few seconds. Finally, he just patted my shoulder. “I know. That’s why I feel even worse. Next time, I promise I’ll make it up to her properly.” “Let’s find a time. I’ll take her to that Italian place she likes. Sound good?” He finished speaking and glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late. Let me take you home. I have an early meeting tomorrow.” He raised his hand to hail a cab. I stood there, watching his profile. The streetlight stretched his shadow long across the pavement. He was still the same Ethan—always saying things no one could fault. But suddenly I remembered three years ago, when my mom first said she wanted to meet him. Back then Ethan had said, “Let me get a bit more established first. I want to give her a better impression.” Two years ago, my mom brought it up again. He’d said, “Next year. Once this project wraps up, I’ll have more free time.” Last year, he said he was preparing for it. This year, they finally met. And then came today. The car stopped in front of my building. Ethan unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over for a goodnight kiss. I lowered my head, pretending to search through my bag, and avoided it. “I’m tired. Drive safe.” His hand froze mid-air. After a moment, he pulled it back. “Alright. Get some rest.” I got out of the car. The moment I closed the door, I heard his phone ring again. He answered it, his voice warm with laughter. “Still awake? Don’t cry. I looked over the proposal for you…” The car started and drove away. I stood downstairs, watching the taillights disappear around the corner. My phone buzzed. A message from my mom: “Are you asleep yet?” My finger hovered over the screen for a moment, then I typed: “Not yet.” After a while, she sent another message: “Rachel, I’m not old-fashioned. If you really love him, I won’t stop you.” “But I’ll say this once.” “Don’t undervalue yourself.”

I sat on the couch until two in the morning. Only a floor lamp lit the living room. On the coffee table lay a photo of my mom and me, taken on her birthday last year. In the picture, her eyes were crinkled into crescents from smiling, holding the scarf I’d given her. I’d spent a month picking out that scarf. It cost half my monthly salary. When Ethan saw the price tag, he’d said, “You’re buying her something this expensive? She won’t even have anywhere to wear it.” I didn’t respond. I bought it anyway. My mom was so happy when she received it, but she never wore it out. She said she was saving it for an “important day.” Like today. I stared at her smiling face in the photo, feeling my throat tighten. I got up and went to my bedroom, pulling an old tin box from the top shelf of the closet. Inside were things from Ethan and me over the years. Movie ticket stubs, amusement park passes, birthday cards he’d written. At the very bottom was a yellowed sticky note he’d slipped into my backpack in college: “Once I graduate and start earning money, the first thing I’ll do is marry you, so your mom won’t worry.” The handwriting was messy, but every word pressed hard into the paper. I stuck the note back in the box and closed the lid. My phone buzzed again. A message from Ethan: “Did you get home? Get some sleep.” I stared at the message without replying. Five minutes later, he sent another: “Still mad?” “I booked an Italian restaurant for tomorrow lunch. I’ll take your mom. You come too.” I stared at the screen for a long time. Finally, I typed: “No need.” He replied quickly: “What’s wrong? Are you really angry?” “Rachel, I know I didn’t do well today, but you have to understand—Serena’s project is really important.” “I’m at a critical point in my career right now. Once I get through this phase, I’ll give you all my time, okay?” I didn’t respond. I closed the chat window and scrolled to a contact labeled “Mrs. White.” Three months ago, my mom had asked someone to set me up on a blind date. This was the mother of that potential match. I’d refused immediately back then. My mom had said, “Just keep the contact. You never know.” I’d saved it but never planned to use it. Now, I sent Mrs. White a message: “Hello Mrs. White, this is Rachel. About what we discussed before—would that still be possible?” After sending the message, I turned off my phone. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind kept replaying my mom’s expression today. And the perfume smell on Ethan’s jacket. It wasn’t the brand I used. The next morning, when I woke up, I had over a dozen messages on my phone. Ethan had sent seven or eight, ranging from “good morning” to “why are you ignoring me” to “what’s wrong with you.” Mrs. White had replied: “Of course! The young man is wonderful. How about meeting this weekend?” And one from my mom: “Rachel, are you okay?” I replied to my mom first: “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Then Mrs. White: “Yes, thank you Mrs. White.” Finally, I opened Ethan’s chat window. His latest message was from ten minutes ago: “Rachel, aren’t you being too childish?” “I already apologized. What more do you want?” I stared at those two sentences, my finger hovering over the screen for a long time. In the end, I typed: “Let’s break up.”

Ethan’s call came through three seconds later. I didn’t answer. He called five more times. When the sixth call came in, I picked up. Before I could speak, his voice came through. “Rachel, are you done throwing your tantrum?” His tone was clearly impatient. “I’m not throwing a tantrum,” I said. “I’m serious.” “Serious?” He gave a cold laugh. “You’re joking about breaking up? Rachel, how old are you? Why are you still so immature?” “I’m not joking.” “Then what do you mean?” His voice rose. “Just because I took a phone call yesterday, you want to break up with me? Don’t you think that’s ridiculous?” “It’s not because of yesterday,” I said calmly. “It’s because of these seven years.” He paused. “What seven years? What are you trying to say?” “I’m saying,” I looked out the window, “I’m tired, Ethan.” “I’ve waited seven years. You’re always waiting for the next time. Next time the project ends, next time things are more stable, next time you have more time.” “But there’s never a next time.” He was silent for a few seconds, then his voice softened. “Rachel, I know you feel wronged. But you have to understand—I’m at a critical point in my career right now…” “I understand,” I interrupted him. “I’ve always understood.” “So you—” “But I don’t want to understand anymore.” The line went quiet for a moment. “Rachel,” his voice turned cold again, “did your mom say something to you?” “I could see her expression yesterday. She clearly has a problem with me. Did she tell you to break up with me?” My grip on the phone tightened. “This has nothing to do with my mom.” “How does it have nothing to do with her?” His tone carried a hint of sarcasm. “You were never like this before. You saw her yesterday and suddenly you changed.” “Rachel, you’re twenty-nine years old. Can you stop listening to everything your mom says?” I closed my eyes. “Ethan, I’m meeting someone this weekend.” “Who?” “A blind date.” The line went completely silent. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice full of disbelief. “What did you say?” “I said I’m going on a blind date this weekend.” “Rachel!” He practically shouted. “Do you even know what you’re saying?!” “I do,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m completely clear-headed.” “Clear-headed?” He laughed bitterly. “If you were clear-headed, you wouldn’t say something like this!” “A blind date? You’ve been with me for seven years, and now you’re going on a blind date? Rachel, do you have any—” “We’ve already broken up,” I interrupted. “As of right now.” “So me going on a blind date is perfectly reasonable.” “You—” He seemed too angry to speak. After a long moment, he finally said, “Fine. Go.” “Go on your blind date. Meet a hundred people if you want.” “Rachel, I’ll be watching to see how long you can keep this act up.” He hung up. I put down the phone. My hand was trembling slightly. But my heart felt calm.

My mom called ten minutes later. “Rachel, did you and Ethan have a fight?” I was startled. “How do you know?” “He just called me.” My mom’s voice sounded tired. “He said you’re going on a blind date and asked me to talk you out of it.” “He also said you were influenced by me, and told me not to give you bad ideas.” I closed my eyes. “Mom, don’t worry about it. This is my own decision.” “I know.” She said, “I just wanted to ask if you’re serious about this.” “Yes.” The line was silent for a moment. “Then I support you.” Her voice was soft. “You’re my only daughter. I just want you to be happy.” “If he truly cared about you, I wouldn’t care about losing face yesterday.” “But if he can’t even care that much, I can’t trust him with you.” My eyes began to sting. “Mom…” “Don’t cry.” Her voice carried a hint of a smile. “Why cry? This is a good thing.” “I already asked Mrs. White about it. The man is a teacher—solid and reliable. Meet him this weekend. If it doesn’t work out, just think of it as making a friend.” “And if it works out…” She paused. “I hope you won’t be deceived by a man again.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “Mom, I disappointed you.” “Silly child,” she sighed. “You’ve never disappointed me. I just feel bad for you.” After hanging up, I sat on the couch in a daze for a long time. My phone buzzed again. A message from my best friend Sophie: “I heard you’re going on a blind date?!!” “Did that jerk Ethan call you?” I replied: “I’m the one who initiated the breakup.” She responded instantly: “You should’ve broken up ages ago!!” “I’ve been side-eyeing him forever!!” “Remember your birthday last time? He said he was on a business trip, but I saw his assistant’s location check-in on social media—she was in the same city!” I stared at this message, my fingers going cold. I called Sophie. “When was this?” “Last month, on your birthday.” Sophie said, “I wanted to tell you then, but you were swamped with that project. I didn’t want to distract you.” “Wait, let me find it for you.” Soon, she sent me several screenshots. From Serena’s social media. The photos showed a restaurant with candlelight and wine on the table. The caption read: “Thanks to Mr. Hayes for the guidance. This newbie is finally making progress!” The location showed our city. Posted at 8 PM on my birthday. That day, Ethan had told me he was on a business trip in another city. The project was urgent, and he’d have to work late. He told me to celebrate my birthday without him and promised to make it up when he got back. I stared at that photo for a long time. Candlelight, wine, warm lighting. And Serena’s eyes curved into crescents from smiling. “Rachel, are you okay?” Sophie asked carefully. “I’m fine.” I heard my own voice, completely calm. “Thank you for telling me.” “Are you really going on this blind date?” “Yes.” “Then I’m coming with you.” She said, “I’m not letting you go alone.” I smiled slightly. “Okay.” After hanging up, I opened my chat history with Ethan. I scrolled up to a month ago. That day I’d messaged him: “When are you coming back?” He’d replied: “The project’s a bit tricky. Might be a couple days late. Happy birthday, babe. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” I’d responded with: “Okay.” Looking at that message now. Every word felt like a joke. That weekend, Sophie came with me to meet the person Mrs. White had introduced. His name was Nathan, thirty-one, a high school teacher. He was a quiet person, didn’t talk much, but answered questions very earnestly. He asked me, “Have you really broken up?” I was taken aback. He smiled. “I heard you had a boyfriend you were with for a long time. I don’t mind, but I want to know if you’ve really moved on. I don’t want to be anyone’s substitute.” I looked at him, suddenly feeling this person was very sincere. “I’ve moved on,” I said. “Or rather, I’m in the process of moving on.” He nodded. “That’s good.” “I can wait for you to fully move on.” After the meeting ended, Sophie pulled me aside. “This guy’s pretty good. Way better than that scumbag Ethan.” “And did you see how he looked at you? He genuinely likes you.” I smiled without responding. My phone buzzed. A message from Ethan: “Done with the blind date?” “So, how was it? Meet your standards?” His tone dripped with sarcasm. I didn’t reply. He sent another message: “Rachel, I’m giving you three days to cool off.” “If you don’t come back after three days, don’t blame me for what happens next.” I looked at this message and smiled faintly. I closed the chat window. Opened my contacts and sent Nathan a message: “Nathan, thank you for today. If it’s convenient, could we get our marriage certificate tomorrow?” He replied quickly: “Of course.” I put away my phone. Sophie leaned over. “What are you texting?” “Getting married tomorrow.” “So fast?!” Her eyes widened. “You’re serious?” I looked across the street at a coffee shop. Five years ago, Ethan had told me in that very place that once his career stabilized, he’d marry me. “Yes. Completely serious.”

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Three months ago, the day I discovered Pierce’s infidelity, I quietly packed my things and moved into the guest room. I didn’t confront him. I didn’t scream. I waited until the System notified me that all evidence of his betrayal had been collected. Only then did I step back into our master suite. The door was ajar. Inside, Pierce was on speakerphone, his voice filled with a warmth he hadn’t shown me in years. On the other end, three voices—voices I knew intimately—were joking around. My three ex-husbands. “So, Pierce,” one of them teased with a familiar lilt, “did you give her the divorce papers yet? Lacy made it clear—no tag-alongs allowed at her bachelorette party. If you want an invite, you come alone.” Pierce chuckled, a cold, sharp sound. “Don’t worry. I’m about to force her to sign.” He looked up then, spotting me in the doorway. His expression shifted instantly from amusement to a mask of icy indifference as he hung up. “Since you heard everything,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, “let’s just end it. You were always just damaged goods, Jacqueline. A relic tossed aside by your exes. You should be grateful I let you play the part of my wife for as long as I did.” I looked at him, feeling the hollow ache in my chest settle into something hard and crystalline. In the quiet theater of my mind, I reached out and pressed the System’s ‘Punishment’ key. I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry. I simply smiled. … 1 Pierce’s face flushed a deep, angry crimson. He stood up, jabbed a finger toward my face, and snarled. “Jacqueline, have you finally lost your mind? Are you going insane?” “Those three men kicked you to the curb years ago. Do you honestly think they’d ever want you back? If I hadn’t been charitable enough to marry you, you’d be nothing but a used-up socialite nobody would touch with a ten-foot pole!” I watched his desperate bravado, the way his veins thrummed with malice. In my mind, the System issued a crisp, mechanical ding. [Punishment Protocol Initiated. Pain Sensitivity increased by 10%. Luck Depletion: 10%.] Suddenly, Pierce went pale. He gasped, clutching his chest as he stumbled back against the vanity. His breath came in ragged hitches. “Did you… did you poison me?” he wheezed, his eyes darting around in a panic. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. I turned on my heel and went to the guest room to grab my suitcase. As I reached the foyer, the electronic lock chimed. The door swung open, and a wave of cloying, sugary perfume flooded the hallway. “Pierce, honey? I brought those artisanal honey-glazed chestnuts you love from the Upper East Side.” Lacy walked in, looking like a portrait of innocence in a white eyelet lace dress. She froze when she saw me with my luggage, her hand flying to her mouth in a choreographed gesture of shock. “Jacqueline? Are you… leaving?” Her eyes pooled with sudden, practiced tears. “Is this because I called Pierce yesterday? Please, don’t be mad at him. I was just so scared staying at the hotel by myself. I needed someone to talk to.” She trembled, ducking behind Pierce as if I were a physical threat. Despite the pain in his chest, Pierce pulled her into his arms, shielding her with a protective glare. “Jacqueline, enough! Lacy is fragile. Stop trying to intimidate her.” I let out a short, sharp laugh. It felt like glass breaking. “Fragile? It takes a lot of nerve to sleep with another woman’s husband. Doesn’t seem very ‘fragile’ to me.” Lacy’s tears began to spill over. “Jacqueline, how can you be so cruel? Pierce and I… it’s pure. We’re soulmates. You can’t let your three failed marriages turn you into someone this bitter.” A ripple of mocking laughter came from the hallway. “Lacy’s right, Jacqueline. You really need to work on that temper.” Three tall, well-dressed men filed into the penthouse: Beckett, Colton, and Jude. My past, standing in my present. Beckett tossed his Ferrari keys onto the marble console, his eyes sweeping over my suitcase with disdain. “What, the runaway bride act again? You did this when you divorced me, too. It’s getting a bit cliché, don’t you think?” Colton walked over to Lacy, patting her head before turning to me with a sigh. “Jacqueline, be an adult for once. Pierce works his tail off to provide this lifestyle for you. So what if he has a muse on the side?” Jude leaned against the doorframe, flicking a designer lighter open and shut. “You think you’re still the untouchable heiress of the Mercer estate? You’re a three-time divorcée. You should be thanking God anyone was willing to take the hand-me-downs.” Seeing the four of them standing together, a united front to protect their ‘golden girl,’ I felt a surge of pure, unadulterated nausea. Years ago, Beckett had begged me for a tactical marriage to secure his family’s inheritance. Colton had knelt in the pouring rain, pleading for my help to dodge a disastrous merger. Jude had been at death’s door, needing my signature and my resources to survive a medical scandal. Every single time, I had helped them. Every single time, when the crisis passed, I had walked away with nothing, leaving them the space to thrive. And now, they stood here, using the very status I helped them build to grind me into the dirt for a girl like Lacy. I looked at Pierce. “You called them here?” Pierce held Lacy tighter, his chin lifted. “Lacy said today was a day for celebration, a fresh start for all of us. She wanted you to see the reality of things so you’d stop using the threat of divorce as a weapon. You walk out that door today, Jacqueline, and you are dead to this circle. Don’t think for a second you’ll be allowed back in.” I gripped the handle of my suitcase, my spine as straight as a blade. “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice steady and cold. “This place is so filthy I wouldn’t stay if you paid me.” I shouldered past Jude, walking out into the hallway without a backward glance. Behind me, I heard Lacy’s voice, sweet and venomous. “Oh dear, Jacqueline is so sensitive. She didn’t even say goodbye to the boys.” “Let her go,” Beckett scoffed. “She’ll be back in three days, crawling and crying for Pierce to take her back.” “Exactly,” Colton chimed in. “A woman like her can’t survive five minutes without a man’s bank account.” I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. In the silence of the car, the System’s voice echoed in my mind. [Host, revenge sequence initiated. Shall we proceed with full-scale Luck Depletion?] “Full power,” I whispered. If these four wolves wanted to hunt in a pack, they could starve in one, too. 2 Leaving that penthouse was like finally exhaling after holding my breath for three years. I didn’t go to a hotel. I drove straight to the glass-walled triplex overlooking Central Park. It was my grandfather’s private legacy, a property Pierce didn’t even know existed. He’d spent our entire marriage convinced I’d poured my last cent into his startup, believing I was nothing more than a dependent trophy wife. I’d just stepped out of the shower when my phone buzzed on the vanity. A message from Colton. A photo. In the picture, Lacy was perched on the velvet sofa in the penthouse, wearing a birthday tiara. Pierce, Beckett, Colton, and Jude were gathered around her, their faces soft with adoration. On the table sat the custom-ordered fondant cake I had designed months ago. The caption read: [Be smart. Come back and apologize to Lacy. It’s her birthday—don’t be the one to ruin it.] I stared at the screen for a second, then blocked his number. I followed suit with the other three, purging them from my digital life with a few taps. The next morning, I arrived at Pierce’s corporate headquarters with my lead attorney in tow. This company wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t leveraged my family’s old connections to secure its first round of Series A funding. I pushed open the door to the executive suite. Pierce was hunched over his desk, his hair a mess as he glared at a series of red spreadsheets on his monitor. He looked up, stunned to see me, before a smirk touched his lips. “So, one night in a cheap hotel was enough to bring you to your senses?” “I knew you couldn’t stay away,” he continued, leaning back. “Tell you what. Go buy Lacy that Hermès bag she wanted as a peace offering, and I’ll pretend yesterday never happened.” I dropped the divorce decree onto his mahogany desk with a dull thud. “Sign it.” Pierce glanced at the header, his face darkening. “Jacqueline, drop the act. You’re not scaring me with this. I pay for your clothes, your food, your soul. Without me, you’re a literal vagrant.” I sat down in the chair opposite him, tapping the desk. “Pierce, did you really forget whose money started this ’empire’? Or whose name opened the doors for those ‘exclusive’ contracts you’re currently losing?” His expression faltered, but he blustered through it. “So what? The company is in my name. The accounts are mine. You want a divorce? Fine. You leave with nothing. Not a single cent.” I nodded to my lawyer. Mr. Simon stepped forward, sliding a leather-bound folder onto the desk. “Actually, Mr. Prescott, per the initial investment covenant, Mrs. Blackwood—soon to be Ms. Mercer—retains a sixty percent equity stake held in a private trust. In the event of a legal separation involving infidelity, she has the right to call in all debts and liquidate her shares immediately.” Pierce lunged for the papers, his eyes scanning the clauses. The veins in his neck bulged. “Jacqueline, you… you set me up?” “It’s called an exit strategy, Pierce,” I said coldly. “You have three days to secure the buy-out funds, or I’ll see you in court for a forced liquidation.” I stood up to leave, but the door swung open. Lacy walked in carrying a boutique lunch bag. Seeing me, she immediately switched into her ‘victim’ persona. “Jacqueline! Are you here to see Pierce? Please, don’t pressure him. He’s been so stressed about the firm lately.” She touched her eyes, which were conveniently brimming with tears. “If it’s about money… I can give you my savings. I don’t want to be the reason you’re struggling.” Pierce pulled her behind him, roaring at me. “Do you see this, Jacqueline? Lacy is thinking about you while you’re trying to bleed me dry! You’re nothing but a vampire!” I couldn’t help it. I laughed—a genuine, amused sound. “Lacy, keep your little ‘savings.’ You’ll need them to buy your own coffee once Pierce is back in a cubicle.” Lacy’s face went white. Pierce raised his hand, his face contorted with rage, ready to strike. His wrist was caught mid-air by a hand with long, elegant fingers. Beckett stood in the doorway, his brow furrowed. He shoved Pierce’s hand down and looked at me with a mix of disappointment and irritation. “Jacqueline, that’s enough. Lacy was trying to be kind. Why must you be so incredibly toxic?” I shook out my own wrist, though he hadn’t touched me. “Mr. CEO is quite the regular here lately. Don’t you have a company of your own to run, Beckett? Or are you hoping to pick up the scraps of this one when it crashes?” Beckett stiffened. “I’m here to discuss a partnership. And to check on Lacy.” I didn’t bother responding. I walked past them, my lawyer following close behind. As I hit the elevator bank, the System chimed again. [Luck Depletion Active: Pierce’s Midtown Development Project just hit a massive safety violation. Stop-work order issued.] I felt a ghost of a smile pull at my lips. 3 Over the next seventy-two hours, Pierce’s world didn’t just crumble—it imploded. The Midtown project was a disaster. The bank froze his lines of credit. His partners, smelling blood in the water, began pulling out one by one. Meanwhile, I sat in my floor-to-ceiling windowed living room, sipping a vintage Bordeaux and watching the ticker on my tablet. Prescott Holdings was bleeding out in real-time. My phone rang. An unknown number. I’d changed my SIM, but somehow Jude had found it. “Jacqueline, what the hell are you doing?” Jude’s voice was thick with suppressed fury. “Are you behind the short-selling of Pierce’s stock? Stop this childish vendetta.” I took a slow sip of my wine. “If he can’t manage his own risk, Jude, that’s hardly my problem.” Jude scoffed. “Don’t play coy. Nobody else would be this ruthless. Drop the lawsuits, Jacqueline. Don’t force our hand. You think you’re still the Mercer girl? The three of us can make sure you never work in this city again.” “And how would you do that, Jude?” I asked. “The last time I checked, you were the one begging for my signature on your medical release forms so you wouldn’t die a ward of the state. Have you forgotten how to be humble?” There was a sharp silence on the other end, followed by a snarl. “That was years ago! Don’t you dare throw the past in my face! Lacy is devastated by all this stress. You will stop this, and you will publicly apologize to her for the slander.” I hung up. The delusion was almost fascinating. Did they really think they were the protagonists of this story? That evening, a courier delivered a heavy, gold-embossed envelope. An invitation to an exclusive solo art exhibition for Lacy. It was being held at the Starry Night Gallery—the most prestigious venue in the city. Inside was a handwritten note: [Jacqueline, tomorrow is my big night. Pierce and the guys will all be there. I hope you can come so we can finally put this misunderstanding behind us. Love, Lacy.] I looked at the note and laughed. Put the ‘misunderstanding’ behind us? More like ‘publicly humiliate me with a show of force.’ The System spoke up. [Host, malice levels detected from the target are peaking. Suggest attending the event for a ‘Face-Slap’ bonus. Rewards: Double Revenge Points.] “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I tossed the invitation into the fireplace. The next night, I stepped out of a black town car in front of the gallery. I was wearing a vintage black velvet gown that hugged every curve, my hair swept up to reveal a throat that felt far too bare. My makeup was lethal—sharp wings and a blood-red lip. The gallery was packed with the city’s elite. Lacy, in a custom blush silk gown, stood in the center of the room like a princess, flanked by her four knights. The room went silent as I walked in. Heads turned. Whispers rippled through the air like a cold wind. Lacy’s eyes lit up. She hurried toward me, her skirt swishing. “Jacqueline! You actually came!” She reached out to grab my hand in a display of faux-sisterhood. I pivoted slightly, letting her hand grasp empty air. Her smile faltered, her eyes immediately welling up. Pierce was there in a heartbeat, stepping between us. “Jacqueline, what is wrong with you? Lacy went out of her way to invite you, and you can’t even be civil?” Beckett walked over, swirling a glass of scotch, his eyes raking over my dress. “Dressed like that… are you here to sabotage her, or are you just desperate for our attention again?” Colton chuckled darkly. “She’s run out of moves, Beckett. This is a cry for help.” A few people in the crowd tittered. I ignored them, looking instead at the ‘art’ on the walls. “This is the exhibition?” I asked, loud enough for the nearby guests to hear. “The colors are muddy, the composition is amateur, and the technique is… well, I’ve seen better work in a middle school hallway. Your taste, gentlemen, has plummeted.” Lacy’s face turned a blotchy red. “Jacqueline! You can hate me, but don’t insult my art!” Jude slammed his drink down on a nearby pedestal. The glass shattered, sent shards flying. “Jacqueline, you’re here to cause trouble. Apologize to Lacy. Now.” 4 The atmosphere was suffocating. Every eye in the room was on me, waiting for the fall. Pierce stepped closer, looming over me with a dark, triumphant look. “I’m giving you one last chance, Jacqueline. Get on your knees and apologize to Lacy. Right here, in front of everyone.” I looked at him, truly looked at him, and realized I felt nothing but a mild sense of pity. “Pierce, you’ve lost your mind. Me? Kneel for her? She couldn’t handle the weight of my shadow, let alone my respect.” Lacy retreated into Colton’s arms, sobbing. “Pierce, please, just let it go. Jacqueline has always looked down on me. I don’t want to be the reason your marriage is ruined…” Colton glared at me. “Look at how kind she is! And look at you—you’ve turned into a bitter, vengeful hag!” Beckett stepped forward then, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. He flipped it open. Inside was a glowing emerald necklace. My breath hitched. It was my grandfather’s—the only thing I had left of him. I’d left it in the wall safe at the penthouse in my haste to leave. Beckett saw my reaction and smirked. “Want it back? I had a locksmith open that pathetic little safe of yours.” “Give it to me, Beckett,” I said, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. “Sure,” he said, holding the necklace over a trash bin. “As soon as you give Lacy the three head-bows she deserves for your bullying. Otherwise, I’ll drop this into the disposal and watch it get ground into dust.” I stared at the emerald, my nails digging into my palms. “Beckett, don’t you dare.” Jude sneered. “Who’s going to stop us? You have nothing left. No status, no husband, no friends. Get on your knees.” The crowd began to whisper. “Poor Jacqueline… she’s really fallen.” “She probably deserved it. You don’t get four men to hate you that much for no reason.” “Just apologize and get it over with, honey. Why keep up the act?” Pierce reached out, his hand moving to shove my shoulder downward. “I said, kneel!” His hand never reached me. The gallery doors were kicked open with a thunderous bang that made everyone jump. Two rows of men in black suits flooded the room, creating a human corridor. Then, a man walked in—tall, commanding, with a presence that seemed to suck the oxygen out of the room. He was in a charcoal-grey bespoke suit, his eyes like flint. Callum Blackwood. The King of the Manhattan elite. A man who didn’t just own companies; he owned the people who ran them. The room fell into a deathly silence. Callum walked straight to me. He saw Pierce’s hand hovering near my shoulder. Without a word, he delivered a backhand so sharp and powerful it sent Pierce sprawling across the floor. The sound of the slap echoed like a gunshot. Callum took a silk handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his hand with clinical precision, and dropped the cloth onto Pierce’s bleeding face. He then turned, pulled me firmly into his side, and let his voice ring out through the gallery. “Who gave you trash the right to lay a finger on my fiancée?”

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I used to be a bad girl. I spent five years chasing the guy everyone called the golden boy, Liam. He was aloof and arrogant, and he was always disgusted by me. “You smell like smoke. It stinks.” But I would shamelessly hug him, bite his lip, and pass him a mint to cover the smell. We dated for a year, and I custom-made a pair of rings for us. I went to see him, thrilled, only to hear someone ask him what he thought of the heiress, Chloe. His eyes were indifferent: “Not bad. She’s pretty good.” My breath caught, and then I heard them ask what he thought of me. “Too wild. Not marriage material. I like good girls.” I was wild. She was good. I guess I had my answer. It was time to let go. 01 When Liam got home, he saw me chewing on a mint. He frowned: “Smoking again?” Usually, when I saw that look on his face, I would have already pounced on him, hanging off him coquettishly, kissing him over and over, trying to make the icy man melt with desire. Then, I’d smile and ask: “Can you taste the smoke?” His eyes would darken, his fingers subconsciously rubbing my waist, but his face would remain stern. “It’s broad daylight, stop messing around!” “Can’t you be a little more modest as a woman?” Facing the person I’d loved for seven years, what did I know about modesty? So, I wrapped my fingers around his tie and pulled gently. “Babe, how about we go to the bedroom and you teach me?” A faint blush would quietly creep up Liam’s ears, brighter than the lipstick smeared on the corner of his mouth. His voice would turn husky, but he’d still act serious: “Teach you what?” I’d give him a sultry smile and lead him step-by-step into the bedroom. But this time, I didn’t have the energy. I swallowed the crushed mint and walked up to him. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his gaze unreadable, as if he was expecting something. I chased him for five years and we were together for one. I’ve seen disappointment, disgust, and impatience in his eyes. The only things missing were love and expectation. He agreed to be my boyfriend only because when he first started his company and was cornered by debt collectors, I called some guys from the bar to help him out. I used both soft and hard tactics, paying off a hundred thousand dollars of his debt. At that time, he looked at me with distant eyes. “What do you want?” I rested my chin on my hand, my eyes tracing his features. He had lost some of the boyishness from seven years ago. I smiled, looking alluring. “I like you. Be my boyfriend.” That was my twentieth confession. He was silent for a long time, so long that I thought he was going to reject me again, until a soft “Yeah” sounded. I was instantly shocked and thrilled, excitedly kissing him on the cheek. The guys from the bar cheered, urging us to kiss on the lips. My face felt a little hot. I looked at Liam. But his icy expression was like a bucket of cold water. He didn’t like me. He looked down on me. But it didn’t matter, time changes everything. How stupid. I suddenly laughed. Liam’s slender fingers tugged at his collar, looking impatient. “What are you acting crazy for?” “I don’t have any contact with Chloe anymore. If you keep throwing these baseless tantrums, then let’s break up.” In the past year, he had said “let’s break up” countless times. If you smoke again, we break up. Drink, we break up. Dye your hair, we break up. To keep him, I willingly closed my bar, gave up the bad habits he disapproved of, and learned to act like a proper lady. After all, my wildness was for him in the first place. But this time, I was tired. “Okay, Liam. Let’s break up.” 02 A flicker of emotion flashed in Liam’s indifferent eyes, and then he lazily pulled out his phone and threw it on the table. “Spit it out, who do you want me to block? Who do you want me to fire?” Once, I made him fire an assistant who deliberately spilled coffee on him, and made him delete the heiress Chloe, who had been making eyes at him. At that time, his eyes were full of exhaustion: “You just don’t understand anything, do you?” I panicked. Liam wasn’t born with a silver spoon, but he became a rising star in the business world through his high IQ and Ivy League education. And I went to a community college. We were worlds apart. People around us constantly hinted that I should let Liam go, let him step into a broader world. And that so-called world was the heiress, Chloe. Liam and I hadn’t been together for long, and I didn’t want to break up. So, when I caught them on a date. Sitting in a high-end restaurant I had wanted to go to for a long time but didn’t have the status to book. I didn’t even dare to go up and confront them, didn’t dare to question him. Late that night, Liam came back. I feigned a casual tone. “What were you doing? Coming back so late.” Liam unbuttoned his shirt, responding nonchalantly. “Having dinner with an important client.” My heart trembled, my eyes instantly welled up, and I turned my back to him, not saying another word. He quietly came up behind me and suddenly wrapped his arms around me. “It’s just that the person I was dealing with was a woman, the heiress to the Vance family. Out of politeness, I dropped her home, so it got a bit late.” His tone was deep and gentle. Liam’s chin rested on my shoulder, his warm breath hitting my skin. Even though there wasn’t any overtly romantic gesture. I still couldn’t control my blushing. “Oh? So is Miss Vance prettier, or am I?” It was a flirtatious question, but it made Liam think for a long time before answering. “Your styles are different. You can’t just say who is prettier.” His attitude returned to its usual seriousness, his tone cold. “You shouldn’t ask questions like that. Saying someone isn’t pretty is a very awkward thing to do.” I was stunned by his words and broke free from his embrace. “But you saying I’m pretty doesn’t mean Miss Vance isn’t. Why would it be awkward? Is Miss Vance going to hear our conversation?” He pursed his lips and looked at me, his gaze deep. I felt wronged. Since we got together, he had never complimented me, nor shown any affection. I just wanted a little bit of preference, a little bit of proof. But he silently stood up and went upstairs without hesitation. I was angry too. I wrapped myself in a blanket and slept on the living room sofa all night. For the whole night, I didn’t sleep, and Liam never came downstairs. He just let me stay there, all alone. 03 The reason I stopped being mad at Liam was that he bought an SUV. He knew I loved driving heavy-duty vehicles, but after we got together, I never went off-roading anymore, so I sold my old one. My bad mood vanished into thin air. I made some soup and walked into his office, saying excitedly: “Babe, I made chicken soup. Let’s drink it together.” Liam flatly refused: “I can’t. I have a lunch meeting.” I frowned: “Okay, then drink it when you come back tonight.” “Liam, that Thai place on the West Side is pretty good,” a woman suddenly pushed the door open and walked in. Seeing me, her expression showed a hint of surprise: “And this is?” “My girlfriend.” Liam stood up and turned to me, “This is Miss Vance.” Chloe generously and naturally came over to shake my hand: “I’ve always wondered what kind of amazing woman could win Liam over. Today I finally get to meet you.” I smiled without speaking. Liam put his hands in his pockets: “Audrey, you go back first. Miss Vance and I have business at noon.” But Chloe took the initiative to invite me: “Don’t do that. It’s nothing serious, just lunch. Let Audrey join us.” “Alright then,” Liam agreed. So the lunch meeting was just the two of them. Liam’s tone when he agreed made me feel a distinctly different attitude. He was never compliant with me. On the way to the restaurant, they walked side-by-side, talking Animatedly. Whenever I tried to interject. Chloe always managed to find a topic Liam was interested in to talk over me. Gradually, I fell behind them. At the restaurant, Liam pulled out a chair for Chloe first, paused, and then pulled one out for me. I could tell I was only enjoying Liam’s chivalry because of Chloe. The waiter handed the menu to Liam. Liam raised his hand to stop him: “Let the ladies look.” The waiter realized his mistake and handed it to Chloe: “Sorry about that. The girlfriend should order.” When he said this, everyone froze for a moment. Anyone with eyes could see they were the matching pair. No one was going to explain a misunderstanding to a waiter. In the end, the atmosphere during the meal was stifling. As we were leaving, Chloe grabbed my hand: “Audrey, please don’t mind that. You’re Liam’s real girlfriend.” I pulled my hand away: “I know.” Liam frowned. Chloe playfully stuck out her tongue, turning to look at Liam: “Liam, I hope your wife doesn’t punish you tonight.” Liam’s brow relaxed: “Don’t joke around. Audrey isn’t petty.” I finally got a compliment, so why did hearing it still make me unhappy? Watching the two of them get along so harmoniously. I felt like a third wheel. 04 After that meeting with Chloe. The well-behaved, proper Chloe he talked about frequently appeared between us. After that, my alone time with Liam gradually decreased. Because of this, we often fought. We had another unpleasant argument because I wanted him to fire his assistant, and we barely saw each other for almost a month. Liam took the initiative to suggest taking me on a vacation. I also wanted to make up, so I naturally agreed. But it was ruined by a phone call. Under the dim light, Liam’s profile looked exceptionally handsome. After hanging up, he kissed my lips, sweeping away the mint I was addicted to. I was just about to respond when he pushed me away. “Chloe says she’s also coming to Miami. We’ll hang out together then.” When did Miss Vance become Chloe? My face fell: “Again? You’re doing business with them, not selling your soul.” Liam withdrew the arm holding me, his tone cold and hard. “Don’t talk like that.” “If there was really something going on between us, would I contact her openly in front of you?” They seemed very transparent. Liam reported to me every time he was alone with Chloe. But can the things you see and don’t see really be explained away? I rolled over and turned my back to him. Liam sighed, turned off the lamp, and hugged me from behind. “The Vance Group is currently evaluating whether our company is worth investing in. Chloe just got back from abroad and doesn’t have any friends, so she treats me like an older brother.” “I just treat her as an investor, with a little respect. I don’t have any other thoughts.” “I don’t want to fight anymore. Can we just get along?” His body temperature was high, and leaning against him made my whole body feel warm, just like the warmth from his palm when he saved me seven years ago. I understood that starting a business wasn’t easy for him, so his attitude towards Chloe would be different. After all, the backing of the Vance family was a huge temptation for an ordinary company. I temporarily suppressed my anger, but the next day, it flared up again. Chloe took over my role completely. One minute she wanted water, the next she couldn’t open the bottle cap, the next she needed a towel. I couldn’t stand lying on the beach chair anymore and said I was going in the water. Liam said he’d come with me. Chloe, who had been lying perfectly fine, immediately stood up and said she wanted to join. I ignored her and went straight to the changing room to put on my swimsuit. Chloe and I changed and walked out of the changing room at the same time. Liam’s eyes fell on me first, then shifted to her. She excitedly twirled her skirt: “Liam, does it look good?” But before she could spin many times, Liam stopped her. Chloe instantly put on a pitiful expression. Liam sighed helplessly, his explanation mixed with comfort. “Spinning around is dangerous, protect yourself.” His tone was gentle and doting. Under the blazing sun, I felt a bit cold. I prepared to leave. Chloe obediently said “Oh,” then adjusted her knee-length skirt, and casually looked at me. “Ah, Audrey, wearing that… isn’t it too dangerous?” I stopped, just about to snap back. Liam beat me to it, his tone indifferent and lazy. “She’s just like that.” “You’re not like her.” I froze. I didn’t understand what he meant by that. By the time I recovered, the two of them had already jumped into the ocean. The sun hung high in the sky, every ray of light like a red-hot steel needle, piercing the eyes. I walked sullenly towards the beach. I saw Liam abruptly let go of the hand gripping Chloe’s arm. He turned and waved at me: “Audrey, come teach Chloe how to swim.” It seemed like he was forcing an explanation. But why be nervous? I watched for a few seconds, calmed myself down, and slowly walked over. Seeing me coming, the distance between Liam and Chloe increased a bit. “It’s better for Audrey to teach me, Liam is too clumsy.” Chloe smiled sweetly, affectionately grabbing my hand. I kept a straight face and directly started guiding her on how to float, telling her to relax her whole body. After trying to take her feet off the ground a few times without success, Liam hesitated before leaving the water and walking to the beach. Miraculously, as soon as Liam left, Chloe succeeded. Chloe’s expression turned cold, and she withdrew her arm without warning. “Thanks, Audrey.” My hands stiffened on the water’s surface. “You’re still not used to it, I’ll hold you.” Chloe looked at me sideways, a sneer curling the corner of her mouth. “Stop pretending. A bad girl who’s been mixing in society early on, how could you not know this?” “Isn’t it tiring clinging to someone from a different world?” “Audrey, you sure can endure.” I frowned tightly, the hands hidden in the water clenched until they hurt. Suddenly, a wave crashed over us without warning. Both Chloe and I were caught off guard and fell into the water. I quickly steadied myself and started treading water. “Chloe!” A roar came from the shore. I turned my head and saw that Chloe had been carried out by the wave. I was startled. I immediately adjusted my direction and swam towards her. But I was pulled away by a fierce force. “Don’t go!” Liam’s eyes were wide with panic. It was a warning tone. Because of his sudden action, I was caught off guard and choked on a few mouthfuls of water. The bitter seawater was like sharp little knives. Bringing a burning pain to my throat. More than the physical pain, a coldness spreading from my heart made me clench my teeth. This time, I saw it very clearly. Liam’s concern for Chloe had always been different. 05 Back on the shore. Liam was performing CPR on Chloe. He was kneeling on the ground, having lost his composure, his face full of regret and anxiety. What he was regretting, I didn’t know. The next second, Liam pinched Chloe’s mouth and lowered his head. Just as they were about to touch, I grabbed Liam’s shoulder, my tone stiff. “Let me do it. You’re a man after all…” Liam seemed to be going crazy, slapping my hand away hard. “Audrey, I didn’t think you were this kind of person.” “Is your mind only filled with that kind of stuff between men and women? Do you understand that saving a life is the priority!” Liam’s fury caught me off guard. Under the gaze of the crowd, I embarrassedly withdrew my hand. Logically, I knew Liam was anxious to save her, but emotionally, I knew artificial respiration didn’t have to be done by a man with a girlfriend. Then, Liam covered Chloe’s lips right in front of me. I ran away. I found an empty, secluded spot. Tears fell to the ground in streams. Except for high school, when my family went bankrupt and I was almost forced to drop out because we had no money, I hadn’t cried. This was the first time I cried in seven years. It wasn’t out of grievance, nor was it because I was provoked. It was because I knew I had to face reality. He didn’t like me. From a high school crush to college, confessing and being rejected every time, his coldness and impatience were like an insurmountable peak. I finally succeeded, but it was just an illusion. A small pebble could easily make it disappear. “Little wildcat?” “It’s been so long, and you’re still crying.” A relaxed and slightly teasing male voice sounded. I looked up at the sound and met a pair of deep eyes. I was stunned. After a long while, the face merged with someone from seven years ago. Carter. 06 The memory broke, and my gaze focused on the phone on the table. Exhaustion followed, and I twitched the corner of my mouth. “Not interested.” “You’ve brought up breaking up so many times. Let me be the one to bring it up the last time.” “Liam, we’re done.” Liam’s impatient gaze turned dark, his face sinking. “What do you mean?” Sometimes you have to doubt a man’s comprehension skills. I said it twice, and he acted like he was deaf. This time it was my turn to be impatient. I walked past him in silence. “Is it Carter? He came looking for you again?” Liam firmly grabbed my wrist. His eyes suppressed something, as if the moment I answered yes, the things inside would instantly erupt. At the end of that trip, Carter and I exchanged contact info. Liam and I took separate flights back. We didn’t speak to each other when we got home. Until I saw Carter post on Instagram that his new bar was opening and everyone was welcome. I drove over as if possessed. I plunged into the dazzling dance floor. The deafening drumbeats crashed like raging waves, constantly assaulting my senses. When I got tired of dancing, a glass of water was handed to me. “Nice dancing, very captivating.” I raised my hand to take it, said thanks, but didn’t drink. Carter’s appearance was flamboyant and eye-catching. The clothes he wore were brightly colored and uniquely styled, showing off his rebellious personality. His vibe was exactly the same as seven years ago. But he was no good guy. He shrugged and smiled: “Still holding a grudge? Wasn’t it you who dressed up as a guy and walked down that alley?” “I ended up getting arrested by the cops and had a leg broken by my dad.” His voice was light and bouncy, making people drop their guard inadvertently. I took a sip of water, trying not to think about those memories. “You deserved it.” “Yeah, yeah, I deserved it.” He exaggeratedly leaned on the bar, his body suddenly getting close. His gorgeous features were suddenly magnified, and my heart clenched tightly. He smirked slightly, looking like a total bad boy: “Then what you owe me…” “Audrey!” A furious roar exploded behind me. Liam’s face was very dark. He stared gloomily at Carter. But Carter didn’t change his expression. He slightly raised his chin, exuding a lawless aura. Liam gritted his teeth and said to me: “Stay away from people like this.” After saying that, he dragged me out of the bar. I shook off his hand. He stopped and hugged me tightly. “The artificial respiration was poorly thought out on my part, but she was traveling with us. If something happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to explain it.” “I’m sorry, Audrey.” Strange, this apology didn’t stir any ripples in my heart. I was very calm. I even had the mood to wonder what people around us would think of us hugging on the street. They probably thought we looked stupid. The issue was temporarily turned over because of his apology, but our official reconciliation actually stemmed from another explosion. After that, he and Chloe kept in constant contact using work as an excuse. He had all sorts of reasonable explanations. And I went from calm to completely apathetic, even responding to Carter, who contacted me one after another. We were communicating legitimately, because we were going to partner up to open a bar. Liam and Chloe had meetings at night, and Carter and I had site visits at night. He was very angry, but I would hit back using his own excuses. His face looked worse day by day. He would always say things out of nowhere. “Why haven’t you been eating mints lately?” “Did you smoke with Carter?” He sat on the sofa, unmoving. His eyelashes covered his eyelids, making it impossible to read his expression. I ignored him. “Didn’t you say you’d quit smoking for me? Audrey, how can you break your promise!” His voice suddenly rose, the last few words almost bursting from his chest. My heart trembled, and I left. One day when I was about to go out, he blocked the door. “Please don’t go.” “I’ve been feeling so miserable lately, so miserable.” His tone was very clingy, as if he had been greatly wronged. I remained silent and shifted my body. Liam blocked me even tighter, his whole body almost pressing against me. His scorching body temperature made me instantly recall the palm that pulled me out of the abyss. I couldn’t breathe properly: “Fine, one condition. Delete Chloe.” He froze for a moment, then said: “Okay, but you have to delete Carter too.” I was a bit surprised. He agreed so quickly; I didn’t expect Carter to be such a big threat to him. Afterward, I asked him why he hated Carter. He looked cold and arrogant, unable to hide the disgust in his eyes. “We were in the same class in high school. He slacked off all day and messed around.” “Arrogant, loved to fight, and dragged the class down. Like an unevolved savage, really annoying.” “How do you know him?” I thought about this question: “I saw him once or twice in high school.” He didn’t ask more, and I didn’t say more. We seemed to have made up, but I knew some things had already changed. For example, my emotions. They no longer fluctuated because of him. 07 Pulling my thoughts back. In the end, it just meant he could act unpredictable because of Chloe, but I couldn’t have any connection with Carter. I couldn’t help but laugh, my chest vibrating constantly, then stopping abruptly as I met his gaze. “Yeah, he’s wild enough.” “And you’re too good, not suited for dating.” Liam was stunned for a moment, then his face turned slightly pale. “You heard?” “I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just that he suddenly asked… I…” I looked up, my tone mocking: “Did you need time to prepare?” “Was it a diplomat asking or the UN asking, that you needed a pre-written script to answer?” Liam pressed his lips tightly together and fell silent. After a long time, he pulled me closer into his arms. “I’m sorry, I spoke without thinking. I do like good, obedient girls, but we’ve been together for so long.” “You chased me for so long, my heart isn’t made of stone…” Liam’s tone was very soft. But I couldn’t listen to it at all and interrupted him. “Do you think the straw that broke the camel’s back was really just the last straw?” “Or do you think I, Audrey, need a man’s charity?” Taking off the ring wasn’t to secure Liam, but to remind myself. Was I really going to give up on someone I’d hoped for for seven years? His face looked bad. This time he stayed silent longer, his fingers tightening their grip on my wrist. “Are you sure?” I let out a pained “Mm,” but he didn’t loosen his grip. He was used to being high and mighty in front of me, used to maintaining a cold and arrogant posture, never spending more than two sentences to coax me. And my decisiveness also angered him. I had had enough of the low posture, had enough of walking on eggshells. I struggled hard, ignoring the pain in my wrist. “I’m sure.” “Actually, you did consider Chloe, or maybe even liked her.” “But you couldn’t take the next step because of some unknown problem, and the reason wasn’t me, right?” Liam’s pupils contracted, and he continued to remain silent. I took his silence as agreement and looked seriously into his eyes. “Actually, you could have just rejected me. I liked you for so many years, confessed so many times, one more rejection wouldn’t have mattered.” “You repeatedly ignoring my feelings means you never respected me.” “Bad girl, delinquent—is that what you told Chloe?” These words crushed Liam. He panicked and raised his hand to grab me. “No, I…” I turned sideways, his hand caught empty air and hung suspended. “Stop talking.” “Seven years ago, you saved me.” “I was being bullied, you took me to the clinic. The medical bill was 20 bucks, and later you lent me 300 for tuition. Now, I’m returning it all to you.” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. Opened my eyes, typed the numbers. His phone dinged with a notification. Clearing a 320-dollar debt of gratitude after seven years. He didn’t lose out. Liam’s emotions completely broke down, his cold eyes turning bloodshot. “Audrey, don’t regret this!” 08 Everyone thought I was desperately in love with Liam. That I could never be the one to initiate a breakup. They teased me: “Did your god-tier boyfriend dump you?” Looking at my former employees, I downed the liquor in my glass. Smiling lightly: “Do I look like someone who isn’t chill?” My bartender, Lily, clicked her tongue twice and poured some more liquor. “Not ‘look like,’ you are. Even cool, badass women have to bow down to the god’s suit pants.” Faced with such an evaluation, I remained noncommittal. My phone suddenly rang, and I answered it naturally. “Audrey, come get your things.” Liam’s cold, hard voice came through clearly. I paused: “Throw them away.” He didn’t speak, but rapid breathing came through the receiver. I have always been decisive about things I’ve made up my mind about. Just as I was about to hang up, the other party gritted his teeth. “I don’t deal with trash, come back and throw it away yourself!” After saying that, he hung up. Even though he was the one who called, he was still acting high and mighty. I looked down at the dark screen, lit it up, and decisively added him to the blocklist. When I don’t like you, who do you think you are? I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. Liam was perhaps just an obsession of mine. That year, I was a freshman and he was a sophomore. I was dragged into an alley and beaten by a group of girls. His accidental intrusion scared those girls away. I was covered in mud, lying pathetically on the ground. The hand he reached out exuded warmth in the sunlight. He took me to the clinic, paid for me, and left a sentence. “People who don’t know how to fight back can only endure bullying.” After that day, my personality changed drastically. Anyone who provoked me, I fought back with a fearless attitude. The title of “bad girl” began to emerge from then on. I thought about it carefully. I had the thought of fighting back long ago; Liam’s appearance was a catalyst, and also a mental pillar. Especially when I fell into the despair of being forced to drop out because I had no money. It was salvation. So during my one year of dating Liam, it was almost entirely me yielding and compromising. This is not a normal concept of love. What made me indulge him without limits? Was it love? Maybe a little, but it had already vanished when he favored Chloe.

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When I pushed open the door to my bedroom, Toby was balanced precariously on a chair, his fingers straining toward the heavy metal lockbox perched on the very top shelf of my wardrobe. He didn’t expect me back so early. The sudden creak of the hinges sent a jolt through him; his grip slipped, and my $45,000 Patek Philippe hit the mattress with a sickening, muffled thud. His eyes darted everywhere but at me, his face flushing a guilty, blotchy red. “Gavin… I was… I just wanted to look at it…” I didn’t move. I just watched him. “My roommate was right,” Toby blurted out, his voice rising in a defensive whine. “You wouldn’t even let me borrow a watch for one night. You’ve always been looking for reasons to lock me out!” I didn’t waste breath on an argument. I walked straight over, grabbed a handful of his hair to steady him, and delivered a sharp, stinging backhand across his face. The sound of the slap cracked through the silence of the room like a gunshot. The commotion brought my parents running. They burst in from the living room, faces tight with alarm. Toby immediately collapsed onto the bed, clutching his cheek and wailing. “Dad! Mom! He hit me! Gavin’s trying to kill me!” My mother’s eyes didn’t go to Toby first. They landed on the Patek Philippe lying on the duvet. Her expression went from shock to a cold, stony gray. She turned on her heel, marched to the mudroom, and returned a second later with a heavy, thick-soled leather clog in her hand. She didn’t hand it to Toby to comfort him. She shoved it into my palm. “Your hand will get sore if you keep using your palm,” she said, her voice trembling with a terrifying, quiet rage. “Use this. And don’t you dare stop until I say so.” “We’ve given you everything, Toby,” she hissed, turning her gaze to my brother. “And you repay us by becoming a common thief in your own home? Gavin, hit him. Hard.” I gripped the shoe, the weight of it familiar and solid, and brought it down across Toby’s back. The dull whack echoed against the walls. 1 The sound of the impact was heavy, followed by Toby’s shrill cry as he scrambled across the floor. “Mom! Dad! Help me! He’s actually going to kill me!” My father stood in the doorway, his face a mask of granite. He reached back, gripped the handle, and shut the bedroom door firmly. He didn’t leave even a crack for the light to escape. “Do it,” Dad said, his voice dropping an octave. “If he’s stealing from his own blood today, he’ll be robbing strangers at knifepoint tomorrow. Better he learns the cost of it here than in a cell.” I swung again. Toby had been the baby of the family, coddled and cushioned from every sharp edge the world had to offer. These hits were the first real consequences he’d ever felt, and he was falling apart, sobbing and crawling toward the corner. I planted a boot firmly in the center of his back, pinning him to the carpet. “What did you do wrong?” I asked, looking down at him. Toby was a mess of tears and snot, shielding his head with his arms. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have touched your stuff! Gavin, please, just stop!” WHACK. I hit him again. “Liar,” I said coldly. “You said your roommate told you I was ‘locking you out.’ Give me the details. Who is he, what exactly did he say, and what were you going to do with my watch?” Toby flinched, refusing to look up. I increased the pressure of my boot on his spine until he let out a strangled yelp. He broke. “I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you! It’s Dexter! Dexter said he was going to a birthday party for some billionaire’s kid this weekend, and he’d look like a loser if he didn’t have the right accessories.” “He knew you had the Patek. He told me to ‘borrow’ it so he could make an impression!” My mother let out a sharp, derisive laugh. “He asked to borrow it, so you decided to steal it?” Toby looked up, his face swollen and tear-streaked, radiating a pathetic sense of martyrdom. “I wanted to ask Gavin… I did! But Dexter said Gavin is too arrogant and selfish, that he’d never say yes…” “He said we’re brothers. That what’s yours is mine. He said taking it for a few days isn’t ‘stealing’—it’s just sharing. He said if I didn’t help him, it was because I looked down on him for being a ‘scholarship kid.’ That I was just another elitist jerk…” I felt a wave of genuine nausea. A forty-five-thousand-dollar piece of horology, and this kid wanted to ‘borrow’ it to play dress-up. And if I said no, I was the villain. It was the kind of toxic, bottom-feeding logic that made my skin crawl, and Toby had swallowed it whole. 2 “So, because he’s poor, he’s entitled to my life’s work?” I asked. Toby sniffled, trying to find his footing. “Gavin, you don’t understand. Dexter’s had it rough. He scrapes by on nothing… he just has a lot of pride. He needs to make connections at that party. It could change his life.” “A watch is nothing to you,” Toby added, his voice regaining a sliver of that borrowed self-righteousness. “But for him, it’s a gateway to a future.” I kicked him square in the shoulder, flipping him onto his back. “Nothing to me?” I leaned down, grabbed his collar, and hauled him up until we were eye-to-eye. “I bought that watch with the first real profit from my startup. I worked twenty-hour days for three years to earn that ‘nothing.’ And you’re going to give away my blood and sweat so some parasite can ‘change his life’? You’re playing Robin Hood with your own brother’s heart?” My father stepped forward, pulling a chair from the desk and sitting down. When he spoke, the room felt smaller. “Toby,” Dad said. “This Dexter… does he make a habit of ‘borrowing’ from you?” Toby shook his head violently. “No! He’s a great guy! He… he gets me coffee when I’m pulling an all-night study session!” Mom walked over to Toby’s closet and yanked the door open. It was half-empty. His North Face parkas, his designer hoodies—all gone. She turned to his desk. The $3,000 MacBook Pro we’d bought him for his birthday two weeks ago was nowhere to be seen. “Where are your coats, Toby? Where is your laptop?” Mom’s voice was like a whip. Toby’s eyes went shifty. He stammered for a moment before whispering, “Dexter had an interview. He needed to look the part… and the laptop… we just share it in the dorm. He couldn’t afford a good one, and I didn’t want to be that guy. I didn’t want to be ‘the rich kid’.” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. I dropped the shoe. “Fine,” I said, dusting off my hands. I turned toward the door. “Gavin, where are you going?” Toby asked, panic lacing his voice. “To help your ‘best friend’ find his destiny.” I drove to Toby’s university dorm with a cold, vibrating clarity. It was 9:00 PM. The hallways of the sophomore wing were buzzing with the usual Friday night energy. I walked straight to Room 304 and didn’t bother knocking. I kicked the door so hard the frame groaned. BOOM. The door flew open. Three guys were inside. Two were sprawled on their bunks, staring at their phones; they nearly jumped out of their skins. The third guy was standing in front of a full-length mirror, admiring his reflection. He was wearing a limited-edition varsity jacket I’d bought Toby for his birthday. He was decked out in name brands from head to toe. On his desk sat Toby’s MacBook. This was Dexter. He froze, his brow furrowing as he processed my intrusion. “Who the hell are you? You ever hear of knocking?” I didn’t say a word. I crossed the room in three strides, grabbed a handful of his carefully styled hair, and slammed him down to the floor. Dexter let out a sharp, pathetic shriek as he hit the linoleum. The two roommates scrambled into the corners of their beds, eyes wide, terrified. I put my weight onto my boot, pinning Dexter’s shoulder to the ground, and gripped his chin, forcing him to look at me. “I’m Toby’s brother.” I stared into his eyes, my voice a low, lethal hum. “A forty-five-thousand-dollar Patek Philippe. You really had the balls to ask for that?” 3 Dexter’s face went ghost-white. He struggled under my boot, but I didn’t budge. “What are you doing? Get off me! Toby said I could have it! You can’t just break in here and assault me!” Dexter screamed. “Borrow it?” I leaned down and delivered a sharp slap to his face. The sound echoed in the cramped room. His lip split instantly, a bead of dark blood blooming on the corner of his mouth. “I paid for that watch. Toby doesn’t have the authority to lend out my property,” I said. Dexter’s eyes welled with tears. He realized he couldn’t overpower me, so he pivoted. He looked toward his roommates, his face contorting into a mask of fragile, victimized innocence. “Caleb, Sam! Call campus security! He’s crazy! Just because he has money doesn’t mean he can hunt us down! He’s bullying us because we’re not like him!” The roommate named Caleb looked conflicted. “Hey, man… maybe just let him up? Dexter said Toby was cool with it. Toby’s always giving him stuff. Can’t we just talk about this?” “Talk?” I looked at Caleb. “He manipulated a nineteen-year-old kid into committing grand larceny. That’s a felony. Are you sure you want to be the character witness for a felon?” Caleb shut his mouth and backed away, his face pale. Dexter was still squirming, clutching the varsity jacket like it was his own skin. “I didn’t steal anything! Toby wanted to help me! You’re just a psycho who’s jealous because Toby actually likes me!” I knelt down, my face inches from his. “Take it off.” Dexter blinked. “What?” “The jacket. I paid for it. Take it off. Now.” Dexter clutched the lapels, sobbing. “You’re a monster! Toby gave this to me! You can’t just strip me in front of everyone!” I didn’t argue. I just grabbed the collar and yanked. The expensive silk lining tore with a jagged, ugly sound, exposing his t-shirt underneath. Dexter screamed and curled into a ball, weeping as if I were the villain in a Dickens novel. “Help! He’s killing me! The rich guy is trying to kill me!” A crowd was already gathering in the hallway, students peeking in, the murmur of voices growing louder. Someone started recording on their phone. Seeing his audience, Dexter’s performance went into overdrive. He crawled toward the doorway, reaching out to the onlookers. “Please! Someone help! I just borrowed a jacket, and his brother broke in to beat me up! Do we even matter to people like him? Are we just trash to be stepped on?” The whispers from the hallway turned sharp. “That’s messed up.” “You can’t treat people like that, no matter how much money you have.” “Call the cops. This is assault.” I stood in the center of the room, cold and detached. I pulled a wet wipe from my pocket and slowly cleaned the blood from my knuckles. It was a classic move. The weaponized victimhood of the “underdog.” 4 He’d wrapped himself in the armor of poverty, using it as a get-out-of-jail-free card, banking on the collective empathy of the crowd. Just then, the dorm supervisor and the faculty advisor, Mr. Henderson, pushed through the throng. Henderson took one look at Dexter—bloody, disheveled, and weeping—and his face turned a bright, indignant red. “What is going on here? Who is responsible for this?” Dexter lunged for Henderson’s legs, sobbing into his slacks. “Save me! Toby’s brother… he just started hitting me! He tore my clothes! He’s trying to humiliate me in front of everyone!” Henderson glared at me. “You’re Toby’s family? How dare you bring this kind of violence onto this campus! Do you have any idea how many laws you’ve just broken?” I tossed the used wet wipe into the trash can. “Mr. Henderson, right? This boy spent the last four hours convincing my brother to steal a forty-five-thousand-dollar luxury watch from my home. As the owner of the property and the victim of an attempted theft, I’m here to recover my stolen goods and address a criminal. You have a problem with that?” Henderson blinked. The crowd went silent. “Forty-five thousand? Theft?” Henderson stammered, looking down at Dexter. Dexter shook his head frantically. “I didn’t! He’s making it up! I just asked Toby if I could wear it for a night! I didn’t know he was going to ‘steal’ it! I’m innocent!” Henderson looked relieved, shifting back into his “peacekeeper” role. “Look, Mr. …?” “Gavin.” “Mr. Gavin. This is clearly a misunderstanding. Dexter is one of our top scholarship students. He’s had a very difficult life, but he’s a hard worker. He wouldn’t do something like this.” “Since nothing was actually stolen, let’s keep this in the family. Bringing this kind of drama to the school is bad for everyone. Apologize to Dexter, cover his medical bills, and we can forget this ever happened.” I let out a short, sharp laugh. “Apologize? Pay him?” I walked over to Dexter’s desk. “Where’s the rest of the stuff Toby ‘gave’ you?” Dexter cowered behind Henderson, silent. I brushed past Henderson and looked at the desk. It wasn’t just the laptop. There were limited-edition collectible figures, high-end headphones, all things I’d bought for Toby over the years. I picked up a rare, $500 glass-sculpted figurine. CRASH. I dropped it. It shattered into a thousand glittering pieces. “What are you doing!” Henderson shouted. I didn’t answer. I picked up a pair of $600 Sennheiser headphones and snapped the headband like a twig. The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of destruction. Dexter watched the wreckage of his “gifts” with a look of pure agony. “You’re insane! Those are mine!” “Yours?” I stopped and looked him in the eye. “You’re a ‘scholarship student’ who qualified for the Pell Grant, yet you have over ten thousand dollars worth of luxury tech and collectibles on your desk. And you’re telling me they’re yours?” The students in the hall started murmuring again, but the tone had changed. They were looking at Dexter’s desk with new eyes. Dexter’s face went through a kaleidoscope of colors—red, white, then a sickly gray. “Toby didn’t want them! He gave them to me! Is it a crime for a poor person to have nice things?” 5 I was done listening to his lies. I walked to his wardrobe and ripped it open. A dozen designer shirts. Three pairs of Balenciaga sneakers. Every single one was a piece I had helped Toby pick out at the boutique. I tore them off the hangers and threw them into the pile of broken glass on the floor, stepping on them for good measure. “Toby ‘gave’ you these too?” I asked. Dexter grit his teeth, tears streaming down his face. “Yes! He has so much, he can’t even wear it all! Why shouldn’t I have a turn?” “Is it a ‘turn,’ Dexter? Or is it a shakedown?” I pulled out my phone and pulled up Toby’s Venmo history. I held it up to Henderson’s face. “Look at this, Mr. Henderson. In the last month alone, Dexter has had Toby pay for over fifteen DoorDash orders—all of them expensive steakhouse or sushi dinners. Dexter’s phone bill? Toby paid it. That brand-new iPhone in his pocket? Toby bought it on a monthly installment plan.” I turned back to Dexter. “You didn’t find a friend in Toby. You found a vein, and you’ve been draining him dry while telling him it’s ‘sharing.’ You aren’t just poor, Dexter. You’re a parasite.” Dexter snapped. He stood up, pointing a finger at me, his voice shaking with rage. “Shut up! Toby wanted to spend that money! What do you know about friendship? You’re just a cold-blooded shark who thinks everything has a price tag!” I took a step toward him. He flinched so hard he hit the wardrobe door. That’s when I saw it. A secondary phone, half-hidden in the top drawer of his nightstand. I reached for it. Dexter turned into a wild animal, lunging for my arm. “Don’t touch that! That’s my private property! You’re a thief!” I swept his leg, and he hit the floor with a heavy thud, kneeling before me. I picked up the phone. It wasn’t locked. I tapped the photo gallery. My stomach did a slow, sickening roll.

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Good news: I’m the true heiress of a billionaire family. Bad news: Someone is impersonating me. At a family dinner, the fake heiress ran up to me, soaking wet and looking pitiful. “Sister, why did you throw red wine on me?” I looked around, hugged the 2-liter bottle of soda next to me, and gave her a clear, innocent stare. “Are you talking about me? But I’ve been drinking Coke this whole time.” 1 I am Maya Sterling, the youngest daughter of the Sterling Group. My eldest sister, Olivia, is an Oscar-winning director who wins awards until her hands are sore, internationally renowned. My older brother, Liam, is the current second-in-command of the Sterling Group, with a limitless future. And me… I am a clueless, useless idiot. Maybe my parents’ genes took a wild detour when they made me. Aside from my looks, I didn’t inherit a single one of their outstanding talents. Not only that, but my reaction times have always been a bit slower than everyone else’s. In my sister’s words, I was like a Golden Retriever that snuck into a pack of wolves, getting bullied but still wagging my tail happily and barking, “Big doggies!” Logically, someone at the very bottom of the food chain like me should have been the first cannon fodder sacrificed in any billionaire family feud. But my mom said: “So what if she’s a little slow? Two heads are better than one, and we have a whole family to protect her.” But my mom was wrong about one thing. Since I couldn’t follow the elite billionaire heir route, she dedicated herself to throwing money at me so I could be a carefree trust-fund kid. But when other rich kids were thrill-seeking and street racing, I barely managed to pass my driver’s test. When they were out partying and binge drinking, I was allergic to alcohol. When they were playing the field and keeping boy toys, the most I dared to do was hold hands. Over time, my mom had to comfort herself. “It’s better to be a little slow. It doesn’t attract unwanted attention. Keeps the gold-diggers away.” But even living like this, I still became a target. 2 Liam brought home a frail girl who looked about seventy percent like me. The moment she saw my mom, she tragically dropped to her knees, crying her eyes out. “Mom, I finally found you!” My dad instantly felt the chicken leg in his bowl lose its flavor. He put down his fork and stared wide-eyed. “What’s going on? You have a kid on the outside?!” My mom was horrified. “I don’t! I swear I didn’t!” The girl crawled on her knees and bowed deeply to my dad. “Dad, I missed you so much!” My mom dropped her panicked expression, put her hands on her hips, and pointed at my dad’s nose. “You still have the nerve to ask me! Is this one of your past mistakes?!” The girl on her knees choked back tears, while my parents were still immersed in their game of passing the buck. Neither of them paid her any attention. “Dad, Mom, she says she is the real Maya Sterling.” In the end, it was Liam who got straight to the point. “What does that mean? How is that possible?” “I’ve seen the DNA test report. It’s real.” “Then what about our youngest?” My mom pointed at me, who was still burying my head in my food. “The youngest is, of course, your biological daughter, my biological sister.” Liam’s words carried no hesitation. He stood coldly to the side, with no intention of helping the so-called “real” sister up. The girl suddenly raised her head and glared at me fiercely. “She’s a fake! If Mom and Dad don’t believe me, you can take her for a DNA test. You have no biological connection to her!” Her certainty made Liam frown. My parents didn’t respond to her accusation, and Liam continued asking. “So I brought her back to ask you, is this some illegitimate daughter you had on the outside?” My parents shook their heads violently. After a long pause, my mom slapped her forehead. “I know!” I rubbed my forehead and spat out the last chicken bone. Thanks to this farce grabbing their attention, I got to eat all the chicken legs today. Except for the half still in my dad’s bowl. My mom’s eyes shone brightly, incredibly excited. “It turns out I had twins back then!” 3 Everyone’s eyes turned to my mom. The girl was the first to object. “How is that possible? There was clearly only me! I am your only daughter!” “Mom, if you take her for a DNA test, you’ll know…” Her words were cut off by my mom. My mom took her hand, pulled her to sit on the sofa, and looked at her with maternal love. “Sweetheart, a piece of flesh fell from my own body, wouldn’t I know how much it weighed?” “I always wondered why my belly was so big back then. It must have been twins.” “Don’t you agree, honey?” My dad showed a look of sudden realization and nodded repeatedly. “I thought it was because you ate too many supplements during the pregnancy. So it was twins.” “You almost had a difficult labor back then. It must have been during the panic that the hospital lost one of the babies.” Surprisingly, everyone accepted this absurd explanation. Even Liam’s expression softened. The girl looked pale, trying to argue further. Her gaze fell on me, as if expecting me to react with violent rejection. But all I could think was: No wonder my reactions are so slow. This girl’s mouth fired off words like it was on 2x speed. All the excellent genes must have gone to her! But I wasn’t jealous. I was always going to be last place anyway. What did it matter if I had one more sibling? I frowned. I had eaten a bit too much and was feeling stuffed, which slowed my thinking even more. “So, between the two of us, who is the older sister?” Under the girl’s expectant gaze, I threw out a completely useless question. “You be the older sister, Maya. Take care of your new younger sister.” My mom smiled brightly, observing the girl’s reaction. She bit her lip, seemingly unwilling, but eventually, slowly nodded. “Mom, my life before this was so hard…” She rolled up her sleeves, perhaps intending to show the scars on her arms. My mom stopped her and thoughtfully draped a blanket over her thin clothes. “Sweetheart, let’s not talk about the past.” “Let’s give you a new name.” “You are the child we lost to the outside world, so we’ll call you… Ava.” Ava swallowed her grievances. “Okay, Mom.” My mom took Ava’s hand and warmly gave her a tour of the house. Overnight, everyone in the Sterling Group, except for Olivia who was away filming, learned of Ava’s existence. And Ava’s challenge to me officially began at that moment. 4 As expected, Ava crushed me in every aspect. She effortlessly blended into the social circles I couldn’t fit into. She played instruments I couldn’t master with ease. Indeed, she looked more like a child of the Sterling family than I did. Piled high with money and the ultimate luxury services, Ava never again showed the timidity of our first meeting. She tried multiple times to steer our parents into taking me for a DNA test. But my mom said: “There’s no need. Our family doesn’t lack the money to raise one more person.” At the autumn gala, Ava fluttered through the crowd like a butterfly. Today, her identity as the “Fourth Miss of the Sterling Family” would be officially introduced to high society by our parents. For this day, she had meticulously prepared a haute couture corset gown, the tailored fabric accentuating her proud curves. Ava followed our parents closely, elegantly and confidently toasting and making small talk with everyone. I sat in a corner, discreetly pulling a 2-liter bottle of Coke from under the heavy tablecloth and filling my wine glass. Elegant. Truly too elegant. I swirled the glass and let out a satisfied burp. The only flaw was that room-temperature Coke wasn’t stimulating enough, and the carbonation dissipated too quickly. I held my wine glass and strolled leisurely out into the courtyard. I had never been good at handling these big scenes since I was a kid, so I was especially grateful for Ava’s existence. While daydreaming, I heard hurried footsteps approaching and instinctively ducked behind some bushes. The heavy, sticky sound of kissing and the rustling of clothes made me blush. Holy crap, who is making out in the garden?! “Tyler… someone might see us…” Ava’s soft moans mixed with a man’s heavy breathing. “Baby, you look so beautiful today.” Tyler was my arranged fiancé. Rather than being surprised that they had hooked up, my main thought made me cover my mouth in a silent scream: Did they not know our family’s exterior was covered in full-color, thermal-imaging infrared security cameras?! Thinking of the security guards staring at each other in front of the HD monitors in the control room… Oh my god, I felt embarrassed for them! 5 It took forever for those two to leave, and my legs were numb from squatting. My engagement to Tyler was a verbal agreement made by our elders. A business marriage, very normal. But the two of us never really clicked. Tyler thought I was boring and plain, and I thought Tyler was a player. The engagement kind of just faded away. But it looked like Ava was very happy to be the rebound. Tyler was the sole heir to the Vance family. Old Mr. Vance’s marriage plan for him was: “Best to have two kids in the first year, three in two years, the more the better.” Looking at Ava’s frail frame, I had deep doubts. Oh well, as long as she’s happy. Before I could even bend down, lift the tablecloth, and refill my drink, a swaying white figure crashed into me. “Ah! Sister, why did you throw red wine on me?” Ava’s eyes were filled with tears, her face pale, as she questioned me, trembling. A large, dark wine-red stain bloomed across her layered skirt. At first glance, it looked like she had just run from a murder scene. Before I had time to react, Tyler was there too. “Maya, how could you bully your sister? Are you jealous that she’s better than you?” “Sister definitely didn’t do it on purpose, Tyler, don’t say that…” The drama at the gala naturally drew everyone’s attention. Soon, everyone noticed the corner where I was standing. Under the curious, drama-hungry gazes of the bystanders, I slowly hugged the 2-liter bottle of soda next to me, my eyes clear and innocent. “Are you talking about me? But I’ve been drinking Coke this whole time.” Everyone showed a look of utter speechlessness. Tyler kept pushing it. “What kind of person drinks Coke at a gala? You just bullied Ava and won’t admit it. Do you know how hard she worked for today…” I didn’t know. I really didn’t know how hard she worked. “I’m allergic to alcohol. I never drink.” “Then you must have snatched Ava’s glass!” Then I would have needed to be holding two glasses. I didn’t really want to keep arguing with this troll. In the end, Ava interrupted the argument. “It was me who didn’t look where I was going and bumped into my sister. It’s my fault. I apologize to you, Sister.” She bowed deeply to me, tears welling in her eyes, while the onlookers whispered among themselves. Honestly, nobody really cared whose wine it was anyway. Ava’s goal was singular: to create the illusion that I was targeting her, thereby establishing her persona as respectful and humble. The rest she left to the rumors and wild guesses. With a teary-eyed Ava in front of me and an aggressive Tyler behind me, I felt a bit distressed. This was broken by an elegant, tall figure. Olivia’s long, slender fingers lifted Ava’s chin, a half-smile on her face. “You’re very talented. Want to be the female lead in my new movie?” 6 Ava accepted, flattered and overwhelmed. A spot in Olivia’s movies was hard to come by, let alone the lead role. After thinking about it for a long time, I decided to hint to Olivia to be careful of Ava. Stuttering in front of Olivia for a while, I only managed to squeeze out one sentence. “She’s not a good person.” Olivia blew a smoke ring at me, watching with a smile as I pinched my nose and coughed. “If you’re worried, come join the crew with me. Big sister will take you to watch a good show.” Ava’s sudden casting caused a heated debate among the crew. “Director Sterling really does favor talented people.” “Look, Ava gets the lead role right away, while Maya can only watch.” “I’ve heard for a long time that Maya is a useless heiress. Maybe the rumors are true, and she’s not really a Sterling.” I sat under a sunshade drinking juice, watching Ava sweating under the blazing sun. I scoffed at the whispers nearby. I had heard these things so much lately that my ears were growing calluses. Ava’s first scene involved wirework over water. Although she had undergone systematic training before shooting, she still looked a bit hesitant. Olivia put her arm around her shoulder and pointed at the award-winning actor, Ethan Cole, not far away. “Ava, your starting point is acting opposite an A-lister. You’re already better than so many people.” “Don’t put pressure on yourself. It doesn’t matter if you mess up. You definitely won’t be worse than Maya.” Since Ava arrived, “little sister” was no longer my exclusive title. Such intimate instructions obviously worked perfectly on Ava. “Sister, I will definitely do a good job!” She nodded confidently. Then came eighteen consecutive NG takes. Olivia strove for perfection and never went easy on anyone. Hoisted high up, dropped heavily down. I thought Ava would call it quits, but she actually pushed through. It wasn’t until evening that I understood the meaning behind Ava’s actions. A comparison photo of us on set was trending online. #AvaNaturalBornActress #AvaDedication #AvaMayaComparison #WhatIsItLikeToHaveAMeanOlderSister In the photos, Ava was respectfully performing difficult stunts mid-air, while I was sitting with my legs crossed in the shade playing Solitaire on my phone. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to work. It was that I really wasn’t helpful. Despite the internet condemning me for making things difficult for Ava, my mom was the first one to get angry at home. “How many times have I told you not to cross your legs! You never listen!” Okay, my bad. 7 After tagging along with Olivia’s crew for a few days, I didn’t want to go anymore. Those days, I was secretly photographed 360 degrees by paparazzi, constantly trending alongside Ava and being gossiped about. It was so annoying. However, Ava was enjoying it. Her popularity was soaring, even driving up the Sterling Group’s stock. My dad generously transferred 5% of his shares to Ava as a wrap gift. The circles were saying that this was the favored true heiress, and questioning what kind of life Maya lived before—no car, no house, no power. No comparison, no damage. True, I thought they had a point. But I had a mouth. I could ask my parents for money. Having money was good enough. Ava clearly wasn’t satisfied. Not only did she have a massive fan base, but she had also gained the family’s approval. My mom put two duck legs in her bowl. I admit, I was sour. Ava smiled gently: “Mom, actors need to maintain their figures. I can’t eat greasy food. Let my sister have it.” “It’s okay, you eat it. Your sister had too much meat before, she needs to eat lighter to rest her stomach.” Ava’s smile twisted slightly, but she quickly adjusted. “Dad, I want to join the family company to learn. Can I?” “Of course. It’s good to be proactive. Liam, arrange it.” My usually silent second brother nodded. “Is Maya coming too?” I shook my head violently. Making me work a 9-to-5 desk job was akin to prison. I wasn’t going. My dad deadpanned a final blow. “Don’t force her. Isn’t lying around at home nice? It’s not like we can’t afford the electricity bill.” See? This is how my uselessness was cultivated. A week after Ava went to the company to “learn,” an anonymous email arrived in the inboxes of the Sterling Group employees. It was the DNA test result between me and my dad. The result showed: “The DNA match between the samples is low. No biological relationship.” 8 What’s that saying? When a wall is about to fall, everyone gives it a push. Another saying: There is no wall in the world that doesn’t leak wind. The first to come knocking was the Vance family. The Vance family and the Sterling family were equal in status, essentially neck and neck. Old Mr. Vance, leaning on his cane, looked benevolent but had sharp eyes. “I’ve heard about Maya’s situation. From my perspective, there’s no need to cancel the engagement.” “I think Ava is quite good. Tyler praises her in front of me all the time.” “Besides, the initial agreement was just a marriage with a Sterling daughter. It didn’t specify who, right?” Even I could hear the underlying meaning of Old Mr. Vance’s words. “This was originally meant to be an alliance of the strong. Who would marry a fake with no blood ties?” “Ava and Tyler already have eyes for each other.” “I’m not backing out. Our two families are still meant to be joined.” Ava looked shy, standing quietly aside, waiting for our parents to decide. Olivia and Liam looked as usual, with no obvious emotional fluctuations. And I, having already lost the right to be present, could only eavesdrop from the stairs. Finally, my dad nodded with apparent difficulty. Then the two families began discussing the specific timing and details of the wedding. I stopped listening and quietly went back to my room. I knew why my parents were so anxious to push this marriage forward. Because along with that DNA test, my “checkered past” from childhood had also been exposed. Someone claiming to be my classmate exposed my “school bullying” and “stolen status.” A little-known D-list actor accused me of involving him in the “casting couch” and “sexual harassment.” And Sterling Group employees revealed how I “squandered company assets” and “mistreated staff.” … This was absolute fear-mongering! Ever since I showed a slow reaction time and couldn’t keep up with school pacing, my mom hired private tutors. I hadn’t been to school since then. As for the casting couch and sexual harassment… Look at that guy’s face! He didn’t even have a quarter of Liam’s good looks. What would I even want from him?! And the ones saying I oppressed employees… I had only been to the company for one day, and aside from sleeping, I just played Solitaire. Did I mistreat the company computers? Did I? But these baseless rumors dealt a heavy blow to the unprepared Sterling Group. Public opinion was overwhelmingly one-sided. People were boycotting Sterling products, and the company was in a panic. The best solution was to abandon me and let the marriage between Ava and Tyler distract the public. The shining true heiress returns, the fake heiress flees in disgrace. Isn’t this what everyone wanted to see?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “438315”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel