Category: English

On our daughter’s fifth birthday party, Julian Vance lost three consecutive rounds of Truth or Dare. His first love, Hailey Bennett, smiled and proposed the penalty: “Since you lost, I dare you to call the hospital and cancel Lily’s kidney transplant tomorrow.” The cheerful chatter in the room died instantly. Julian frowned, a flicker of displeasure crossing his face. “Hailey, my daughter has been on the transplant waiting list for three years!” Hailey’s eyes immediately welled with tears. “Back then, I lost my womb to drag you out of that car wreck. You promised me you’d take me to see the snowy peaks of Aspen tomorrow.” I genuinely believed Julian would never gamble with his own daughter’s life. But that night, he personally handed me a glass of milk spiked with sleeping pills. When I finally opened my eyes, it was already noon the next day. Seeing dozens of missed calls from the hospital, my hands shook as I dialed back. The nurse’s voice came through, filled with heavy hesitation. “Mrs. Vance, the surgery… Mr. Vance cancelled Lily’s transplant last night.”

I held the phone, my ears ringing with a deafening buzz. The nurse spoke urgently. “The cold ischemia time for a donor kidney is extremely limited. We couldn’t reach you, and Mr. Vance, as her legal guardian, formally cancelled the procedure.” “At four in the morning, the transplant network reassigned the kidney to another pediatric patient.” A freezing cold swept through my entire body. “Who got it?” The nurse fell silent for a moment. “Another child. The transplant has already been completed.” That kidney saved another life. I couldn’t bring myself to blame that child. But my Lily had been undergoing dialysis three times a week just to survive until this day. The dialysis port on her little arm had swollen into a bruised, purple bump. She couldn’t touch it during baths, and she had to sleep in one stiff position every night. Last night, before blowing out her candles, she had whispered in my ear: “Mommy, after I get my new kidney, can I finally go to preschool like the other kids?” I had nodded, and she had jumped around me, squealing with pure joy. The nurse’s panicked voice pulled me back. “Mrs. Vance, Lily started running a high fever and vomiting early this morning. Her dialysis catheter is severely clogged, and she’s currently in the ICU being resuscitated.” The phone slipped from my palm, clattering to the floor. I rushed out of the bedroom, barefoot. On the nightstand sat the half-empty glass of milk from last night. At the bottom lay a layer of undissolved white powder. My stomach churned violently. I had trusted Julian. I thought he would never play with our daughter’s life. But he had drugged me so we would miss the kidney we had waited three years for. The driver drove like a maniac. I dialed Julian’s number over and over, but it went straight to voicemail. Just as the car pulled into the hospital parking lot, a picture message popped up on my phone. It was a shot of the Aspen mountains, bathed in the golden morning light. Hailey was wearing a white puffer jacket, leaning her head on Julian’s shoulder. [Hailey’s emotionally unstable right now. I’ll come back as soon as I show her the snow.] [The surgery is just postponed. She’ll be fine.] My fingers shook so hard I could barely hold the screen. [The kidney is gone. They gave it to someone else.] Minutes passed. He didn’t reply. Outside the ICU, I grabbed a passing nurse’s arm. “Where is Lily?” The nurse’s eyes were red. “The catheter infection triggered acute peritonitis. She just went into septic shock.” Through the glass window of the ICU door, I saw my little girl lying in the center of the sterile bed. She was swallowed by tubes and wires. The cardboard birthday crown she wore yesterday was now stuffed inside a plastic bag, crushed beneath her tiny backpack. Lily was born with renal hypoplasia and had been on dialysis since she was two. To wait for a matching kidney, she had endured hundreds of needle pokes and swallowed countless pills. Every time the pain became too much, she would wrap her tiny arms around my neck and ask: “Mommy, when I get my new kidney, will I be able to run around like the other kids?” I always told her, *Yes, baby, very soon. Mommy and Daddy will wait with you.* But the kidney had come. And her own father had personally sent it away. The ICU door swung open, and the doctor pulled down his mask. “We’ve stabilized her for now, but we must clear the infection and establish a new dialysis access immediately.” “Her heart function is already failing. If we delay any longer, she’ll go into full cardiac arrest.” I grabbed his sleeve. “Can we find another donor?” The doctor shook his head gently. “A kidney with such a perfect match for Lily is a miracle. It took us three years to find one.” “When the next one will appear… no one can guarantee.” When the bed was rolled out, Lily slowly opened her eyes. “Mommy.” I squeezed her cold, tiny hand. “Mommy’s here, baby.” She strained her neck, trying to look behind me. “Where’s Daddy?” A lump formed in my throat, choking me. Lily waited for a few seconds, the tiny spark of hope in her eyes slowly dimming to gray. “Did Daddy go to see the snow with Auntie Hailey?” I pressed her hand against my cheek, unable to utter a single word.

Lily was transferred to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. After I had waited outside for three agonizing hours, Julian finally called. “How is she?” I stared at the blinking red light above the ICU door. “Septic shock. Heart failure. The kidney has already been transplanted into another child.” Silence stretched on the other end for two long seconds. “Why didn’t the transplant center wait for me to get back?” Julian’s voice carried a hint of annoyance. I let out a cold, hollow laugh. “A donor organ isn’t a VIP booth at your restaurant, Julian. It doesn’t wait around just because you’re rich and powerful.” His voice darkened. “Clara, I know you’re angry, but I only postponed it by one day.” “Hailey has waited years to see this snow.” “Once the winter season passes, she would have to wait another whole year.” I dug my nails into my palms until they bled. “Lily waited three years for that kidney! How many more years do you think she has left?” The line went quiet. Then, Hailey’s soft, whimpering voice drifted through the receiver. “Julian… did I make things difficult for you?” Julian immediately softened his voice to soothe her. “No, babe. Don’t overthink it.” When he spoke to me again, his tone was laced with impatience. “I’ll have my assistants search for another donor. I’ll buy one if I have to.” “With modern medicine, there’s no way that was the only kidney in the world.” I closed my eyes. Eight years ago, Julian was in a horrific car accident that caused bilateral renal failure. Back then, he was the one waiting desperately for a kidney. I was the one who lay on the operating table and gave him my left kidney. Before the surgery, he had held my hand, weeping like a child. “Clara, I swear I will never fail you for the rest of my life.” But now, when it was Lily’s turn, he casually told me we could just “find another one.” As if human organs were commodities on Amazon that he could purchase whenever he pleased. Suddenly, the monitors in the ICU blared in alarm. Several doctors rushed past me into her room. I scrambled to my feet. Julian’s voice was still buzzing in my ear. “When Hailey dragged me out of that burning car, a piece of rebar pierced her abdomen. She can never have children because of me.” “I promised to take her to the mountains. I couldn’t break another promise to her.” I stared at my daughter through the glass as doctors crowded around her bed. “You didn’t want to break your promise to Hailey, so you chose to break your promise to Lily?” “Julian, she is your daughter!” He took a deep, irritated breath. “She’s your daughter too, Clara. You’re there to watch her, aren’t you? What’s the big deal?” My heart felt like it was being ripped out of my chest by bare hands. I hung up. Ten minutes later, the doctor came out with grim news. Lily had developed acute left heart failure. They needed to start emergency bedside dialysis. But her blood vessels were too weak and scarred. The doctor tried three times to insert the line, failing each time. During the fourth attempt, Lily, though semi-conscious, began to shiver violently from the pain. Through the glass, I watched the thick needle pierce her fragile little neck over and over. She didn’t even have the strength to cry out loud. By evening, the hospital called an emergency consultation. The head of the transplant department pulled up the donor registry. “There are currently no matching donors on the active list for Lily.” “We’ve contacted out-of-state databases, but pediatric kidneys are incredibly rare, and the transport risk is too high.” I stared at the glowing screen. “What about family matches?” The doctor paused. “Direct relatives can be tested.” “However, the patient’s father is currently living with a transplanted kidney himself. He cannot donate.” “As for your records…” He looked up, his expression extremely grim. “Mrs. Vance, your tissue match with Lily is actually a perfect 10 out of 10.” My heart leaped. The lead surgeon quickly interjected. “But you donated your left kidney eight years ago.” “If we take your remaining kidney, you will not survive.” I turned my head and looked at my daughter sleeping behind the glass. “I’ll do it.” The conference room fell dead silent. No one spoke. Every doctor in the room avoided my gaze. In that silence, I finally understood. They had already silently concluded that Lily would not survive long enough to find another kidney.

In the middle of the night, Lily woke up briefly. I put on a sterile gown and went in to see her. An oxygen mask covered half her little face. Every rise and fall of her chest looked like an exhausting battle. Seeing me walk in, she tried her best to curl her eyes into a smile. “Mommy… I didn’t cry today.” The tears I had been holding back nearly spilled over. “My Lily is the bravest girl in the world.” She lifted her bruised, tiny hand. “When they poked me with the needles, I counted to a hundred.” “Daddy told me before… if I count to a hundred, he’ll be here.” I tucked the blanket around her shoulders. “Yes, baby. Daddy will be here very soon.” Lily blinked slowly, her voice barely a whisper. “Mommy… is the new kidney gone?” A five-year-old child had already guessed the truth from the pitying, evasive glances of the doctors and nurses. I held her hand tightly. “Mommy will find a way. I promise.” Lily shook her head slightly. “Grandma said everyone has an angel’s calendar, and maybe my time is just five years.” The words hit my chest like a sledgehammer. I leaned down and wrapped my arms around her. “No, that’s not true. Mommy won’t allow it.” She gasped softly against my shoulder. “I’m not scared of dying, Mommy… but please don’t cry.” “After I die, you can just have another healthy baby, okay?” My tears soaked into her pillow. Because of the complications from my kidney donation eight years ago, I had long lost the ability to carry another child. But Lily didn’t know that. She genuinely thought that if she died, another baby could take her place and keep me company. Leaving the ICU, I went straight to the office of Dr. Jonathan Sterling. He was the surgeon who had performed the transplant eight years ago, putting my left kidney into Julian’s body. I slammed the compatibility report onto his desk. “I want to give my right kidney to Lily.” Dr. Sterling’s face turned pale. “Clara, you will not survive the surgery!” I stared at him calmly. “How long does Lily have?” Dr. Sterling choked on his words and looked away. “At the rate her heart is failing… less than forty-eight hours.” “And when is the next matching kidney coming?” I asked. He fell silent. I pushed the consent form toward him. “Then use mine.” Dr. Sterling grabbed the paper and ripped it to shreds. “I am a doctor, Clara, not an executioner!” “I’ve regretted performing that surgery on you eight years ago every single day of my life.” “You had massive internal bleeding and went into cardiac arrest twice. And what did Julian do? The moment he woke up, he was comforting Hailey in his ward!” “And now you want to throw your life away for his mistake?” I knelt down, picking up the torn pieces of paper one by one. “Julian isn’t worth it. But Lily is.” Dr. Sterling’s eyes turned red. “If you die, what happens to her?” I let out a soft, gentle smile. “She will live. As long as she’s alive, she has a future.” Dr. Sterling’s hands trembled violently. “Even if the surgery succeeds, you could die on the table from blood loss, heart failure, or post-op infection.” “If Lily finds out the truth later, she will live with that guilt for the rest of her life.” My voice cracked. “Then don’t let her know.” “Tell her… Mommy had to go to a very beautiful, far-away place.” The office fell into a long, suffocating silence. Dr. Sterling slowly turned his back to me, his shoulders slumping in defeat. At two in the morning, he handed me a new set of surgical consent forms. I signed my name clearly on the dotted line. After signing the last page, I took out my phone and recorded a video for Lily. When the camera turned on, I forced the brightest, most cheerful smile I could muster. “Hi, Lily. When you watch this video, Mommy might not be by your side anymore.” “It’s not because Mommy doesn’t want you. It’s because Mommy loves you so, so much.” “When you came out of my belly, Mommy gave you your first life.” “This time, Mommy is just giving you your second one.” Near the end, the tears finally broke through. “Make sure to eat your meals, and study hard at school.” “If people love you, that’s wonderful. But if no one does, don’t be afraid.” “Mommy wants you to grow up and learn to love yourself first.” Just as the video saved, my phone buzzed with a Snapchat video from Julian. In the background, Hailey’s giggles echoed. “Lily, look! Daddy recorded the snow for you.” “When Daddy gets back, I’ll throw you another big birthday party.” I didn’t reply.

The next morning, Lily’s condition deteriorated rapidly. Her blood pressure plummeted, and her cardiac output dropped to less than half of normal. As the nurses wheeled her toward the operating room, she regained a brief moment of consciousness. She reached out from under the sterile sheet and grabbed my sleeve. “Are you having surgery too, Mommy?” I was already in my surgical scrubs, my hair tucked completely inside the cap. “Mommy’s going to take a nap with you, baby.” Lily’s lips were completely white. “When I wake up, can I have ice cream?” I stroked her cold cheek. “Only once a week.” She giggled softly. “Then… when will Daddy be back?” My hand froze. The intercom in the hallway began to blare, urging family members to clear the sterile corridor. I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Lily, close your eyes and count.” “When you reach a hundred, the gift Mommy promised you will arrive.” She obediently closed her eyes. “One, two, three…” Our surgical gurneys were pushed into separate operating rooms. Before the heavy doors swung shut, I could still hear her faint, fragile voice counting. “Seventeen, eighteen…” The anesthesiologist placed the mask over my face. Dr. Sterling stood under the bright surgical lights, his eyes bloodshot. “It’s not too late to back out, Clara.” I stared up at the blinding white lights. “Yesterday, Lily asked me if her life was only meant to be five years long.” “Dr. Sterling… I don’t want her story to end at five.” The warm anesthetic began to flow into my veins. Forty minutes into the surgery, I suffered a massive hemorrhage. My blood pressure crashed from 90 to 50. The monitors shrieked in a frenzy of alarms. “The right kidney has been successfully harvested! Flush it with preservation solution immediately!” “Donor’s blood pressure is still dropping! Her coagulation has collapsed! We can’t stop the bleeding!” Dr. Sterling’s hands were covered in bright red blood. “Push more blood! Get the bypass machine ready!” A nurse cried out, her eyes streaming with tears. “Lily’s vascular anastomosis is complete! The donor kidney is being perfused!” Blood kept pooling in my abdominal cavity. Dr. Sterling injected epinephrine directly. Once. Twice. Three times. The waves on the EKG monitor grew flatter and flatter. Dr. Sterling’s voice cracked, sounding raw and desperate. “Clara, don’t sleep! Lily made it! She’s going to live! Do you hear me?!” My fingers twitched slightly. Then, the EKG line went completely flat. At that exact moment, Julian arrived at the hospital. Hailey had suffered a sudden panic attack on the mountain, claiming that the white snow reminded her of the car crash years ago. He had spent hours consoling her until his assistant forwarded an emergency notification from the Vance Group’s private hospital. The patient’s name on the emergency surgery list was Lily Vance. A sudden, chilling panic seized him. He abandoned Hailey on the spot and caught the fastest flight back. Julian sprinted into the transplant center. The moment he stepped off the elevator, he heard the faint, weak cry of a child coming from the pediatric recovery ward. The sound was tiny, but it instantly made his tense shoulders relax. He grabbed a passing nurse. “My daughter… was the surgery a success?” The nurse’s face was white as a sheet. “The transplanted kidney has successfully restored blood flow.” Julian let out a massive sigh of relief. “Where is Clara? She must have been terrified.” The nurse’s tears spilled over her cheeks. Suddenly, the heavy doors of the operating room were kicked open. Dr. Sterling, his surgical gown soaked in dark blood, marched out and slammed his fist directly into Julian’s face. “Clara is dead! She gave her remaining kidney to Lily!”

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Every single one of my boyfriend Logan’s friends had tried to seduce me. It was always Logan’s idea. Every time I rejected one of them, he would throw a party to celebrate. His friends all said I was fiercely loyal to him. “We tried every trick in the book to tempt her, but Vivian never took the bait. Logan, man, you can finally sleep easy now, right?” Logan would look at me with a guilty smile and say, “I just love you too much, babe. I couldn’t help but test you. This is the last time, I swear!” He had said that phrase over and over again, always looking so sincere. Until he introduced me to his newest friend, Dominic. When Dominic stood in front of me, he was the definition of mature, sexy, and aloof. My heart suddenly skipped a beat. Logan had finally, successfully found my exact type. “Nice to meet you, Vivian.” Dominic’s deep, velvety voice washed over me. It was an incredibly sexy voice. He politely extended his hand. His fingers were long and clean, with prominent veins running under his sun-kissed skin. Even his hands were sexy. A few scandalous thoughts flashed through my mind, and my breathing hitched. “Nice to meet you too,” I replied, keeping my voice low and cool to hide my racing thoughts. But the moment our fingers brushed, a spark of electricity shot up my arm, leaving a delicious, lingering itch in my chest. Logan had me sit next to him, with Dominic on my other side. Before we arrived, Logan had given me the rundown on Dominic. Even in New York’s elite circle, there was a hierarchy. The Dominic family was at the absolute top of the food chain. And Dominic was the oldest son, the sole heir they had spent a lifetime grooming. Logan used to complain about him all the time. While the rest of the rich kids partied together, Dominic remained cold and distant, never deigning to hang out with them. Later, Dominic went to Europe for college, cutting off contact entirely. Who would have thought that shortly after his return, he’d suddenly become so approachable? When Logan sent out the invite, Dominic had joined without a second thought. Logan’s theory was: “He probably didn’t have any friends in Europe, so now that he’s back, he’s finally trying to fit in.” Of course, in front of Dominic, Logan sang a completely different tune. “Vivian, Dominic has some amazing connections in Europe. Didn’t your fashion design studio want to go international? You should totally ask him for advice. Why don’t you guys add each other on Instagram?” I glanced at Logan. His expression was dead serious. He looked exactly like a supportive boyfriend trying to help my career by networking. But I knew, with absolute certainty, that this was another one of his loyalty tests. Everyone at the table had that look on their faces—like they were waiting for a show to start. I scanned the room. They were all the same old actors. The first time Logan tested me was on our third day of dating. He was terrified I was only after his money. So, he had one of his rich buddies approach me, offering me millions to dump Logan and go with him instead. I was completely caught off guard back then. But more than anything, I was furious. I couldn’t believe Logan had such a backstabbing snake of a friend. So, I told Logan everything, warning him to watch his back around that guy. Instead, Logan just smirked at me. Later, that friend came to apologize, claiming he was just helping Logan test me and meant no harm. “Vivian is amazing!” he had said, giving a thumbs-up. “I literally offered her ten million dollars, and she didn’t even blink! Logan, you’re one lucky bastard!” Sitting at the head of the table, Logan had grinned with smug satisfaction. After that, he brought out guys who were hotter than him, richer than him, sweeter, funnier… a whole parade of men trying to get into my pants. And every time one of them failed, Logan would throw a party to “clear up the misunderstanding.” Gradually, everyone in his circle came to know that Vivian was hopelessly in love with Logan. They believed no man on earth could ever steal his girl. To outsiders, I didn’t care about money, power, or looks. I was just purely, unconditionally in love with Logan himself. As if. If I didn’t care about any of those things, why wouldn’t I just adopt a dog? I liked his money, and I liked his face. Among everyone I knew, he used to have the best package that fit my taste. But not anymore.

Dominic took out his phone. “Scan me. Let me know if you ever need anything.” Clearly, Logan had set this up beforehand. I ran a high-end, custom fashion design studio. With Logan’s connections and my unique designs, my studio had quickly made a name for itself. After styling a few celebrities for red carpet events and creating some viral looks, my business had boomed. By now, I was the go-to independent designer for the city’s elite. But my ambition didn’t stop there. I wanted to build my own commercial brand and take it global. “Vivian? Don’t just stand there. Not everyone gets a chance to get Dominic’s personal contact,” Logan’s voice pulled me back to reality. I blinked and saw Dominic holding out his phone with a QR code on the screen. His long fingers held the edge of the device in a relaxed, effortless grip. I pulled out my phone and scanned it. With a soft ding, we were connected. His profile picture was a solid, matte black background. Nothing else. His Instagram grid was completely empty. No posts, no clues. I put my phone away and looked up, catching his gaze. He wasn’t looking at his phone. Instead, his eyes were locked onto my face… specifically, my lips. It was only for a split second before he looked away. But I still caught the faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. Interesting. I looked away and took a sip from my glass. It was ice water. Suddenly, Dominic spoke up. “You should drink something else.” “What?” “Ice water isn’t good for you right now.” Quietly, he pushed his own glass of warm water toward me. I took a sip of the warm water, lowering my head to hide the small smirk on my lips. When I had reached into my bag for my phone earlier, I had purposely let him catch a glimpse of the tampons in my purse. So far, this man was passing with flying colors. After the party, I didn’t reach out to Dominic. Since he had agreed to help Logan test me, he would definitely make the first move. I was right. He showed up directly at my studio. He claimed he was in the neighborhood for a meeting, remembered my studio was nearby, and wanted to see if I could custom-make a suit for him. A client is a client. I had no reason to turn him down. “Of course. But I’ll need to take your measurements first. Are you in a rush, Dominic?” “Not at all.” I stepped forward with my measuring tape. Dominic cooperatively took off his suit jacket, leaving him in a crisp, high-quality white dress shirt. I measured his shoulders and arms. Everything went smoothly until I wrapped the tape around his waist. Because of the angle, I practically had to step right into his chest. The clean, woody scent of a mature man instantly wrapped around me. He looked down, his warm breath brushing against my ear. Then, without warning, his lips lightly grazed my earlobe. I gasped, stepping back as if I’d been electrocuted. He lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” I let out a mocking laugh. “Logan sent you to test me, didn’t he?” “Yes,” he admitted, completely unfazed by being caught. Instead, he looked at me with burning intensity. “But what if I’ve fallen for you for real? What do I do now?” “Is that so?” I met his deep gaze, a slow smile spreading across my face. “Then you’ll have to try harder.” We stared at each other. Some things didn’t need to be said out loud. When two people are on the same wavelength, they just know. Just as he was about to speak, his phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen and answered it right in front of me. “Don’t worry, she hasn’t texted me at all.” “Don’t believe me? I’ll send you a screenshot.”

Logan was still talking on the other end. Dominic glanced at me and “accidentally” hit the speaker button. Though he kept the phone near his ear, Logan’s voice was crystal clear in the quiet studio. “Bro, you gotta help me out a bit more. Be more aggressive. See how she reacts. If even you can’t charm her, then I can finally be at peace.” Dominic chuckled. “How many times have you tested this girl?” “This time is different. You know how it is in our world—we have to marry for business. She’s brought up marriage a few times, and I’ve been dodging it. But my parents are pushing me to go on blind dates with heiresses lately, and I don’t want to break up with Vivian yet.” “So you need to help me. Once I’m 100% sure she’ll never leave me, I can go ahead with the family dates with peace of mind.” Dominic looked at me. “If you’re going to marry someone else anyway, why not just let her go? Keeping her in the dark is messed up.” “Dominic, you don’t get it. I really love her. If she loves me enough, she won’t care about a stupid piece of paper.” “Aren’t you afraid…” Dominic’s eyes darkened, “that I might actually steal her from you?” Logan let out a loud laugh. “Come on, Dominic. You’ve seen the most beautiful women in the world. Why would you ever fall for her?” “Anyway, if she passes this final test, I’ll reward her with a private commitment ceremony. Just a small event for our inner circle. That’ll keep her happy for life.” “But if she fails… well, then you help me throw it in her face. I’ll make sure she regrets it for the rest of her life.” Dominic hung up. We stood there in silence. Honestly, I wasn’t even that sad. I had thought about marrying Logan once. But after his constant dodging, I had checked out a long time ago. Staying with him was purely for his connections. To me, Logan was like a bland, tasteless dish. Dominic, on the other hand, looked delicious. I wanted him. But not quite yet. I threw myself entirely into my work, knowing Dominic would eventually be my prey. Dominic knew how much my career meant to me, so he kept feeding me resources. And I accepted every single one of them. He used his connections to help restructure my company, headhunted top talents for me, connected me with the best factories, and got me premium fabrics at dirt-cheap prices. He even secured a showcase spot for me at next year’s Milan Fashion Week. He kept giving without asking for anything in return, and I didn’t mind giving him a little taste of what he wanted. Just a little taste. Never the full meal. I acted like a total heartbreaker, soaking up all his favors while keeping him at arm’s length. But he didn’t seem to mind. To him, these favors were effortless. Except sometimes, when the tension got too thick and he was left hanging, he would let out a bitter laugh. “I feel like a dog you’ve got perfectly trained. How can you be so cruel, Vivian?” But that wasn’t true. He was incredibly attractive to me. Under the guise of fitting his suits, I would let my hands wander. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, I would trace the hard lines of his chest and abdomen. But I always stopped right before he lost his mind. That was my favorite game. Our flirting was practically out in the open, yet Logan was completely oblivious. He actually believed that all the resources Dominic was giving me were just “bait” to test my loyalty. Even his friends thought the same. During their parties, they would gossip about me behind my back: “Logan’s got his girl completely whipped. Even a guy like Dominic can’t tempt her. I bet she’d jump off a cliff for you if you asked!” “Vivian acts all cold and elegant, but in front of Logan, she’s probably begging for his attention.” “Imagine her face when she finds out Logan is marrying someone else. She’s going to cry her eyes out.” “Let her cry. It’s not like she can ever leave him.” “Hahaha…” Dominic had secretly recorded all of this and sent it to me. “Vivian, I didn’t want to play this for you because I didn’t want to hurt you. But I thought you should know what he’s really like behind your back.” “I don’t have any ulterior motives. I just… I hate seeing you treated like this.” “If I had the honor of being your man, I would never hang out with people who disrespect you like this.” “Are you refusing to be with me because you still love Logan?” Me: … I was just used to getting my bag first. Since Dominic was already on my plate, I was in no rush to eat.

The day Dominic’s prototype suit was ready, I decided to deliver it to his office myself. Dominic’s office took up an entire floor of his family’s skyscraper. His assistant buzzed me right through security. Dominic had given strict orders: I never needed an appointment. Which was how I unfortunately ended up overhearing Logan’s voice. “Dominic, you’re going way too hard just to help me out. Did you really have to give her all those premium connections?” “Women don’t need to work anyway. I can provide for her. Giving her all those resources is just a waste.” I had always known Logan never took my career seriously. When he initially supported my studio, it was just a patronizing gesture to keep me entertained. He figured his rich friends could buy a few dresses to fund my little hobby. Even when I started succeeding, his boasting felt more like a proud owner showing off a prettier vase than his neighbors’. Dominic didn’t argue. He just said coldly, “I don’t do charity.” “Of course, of course. I know you’re only doing this as a favor to me.” “But seriously, has she really not shown any interest in you?” Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Do you want her to?” “That’s not what I mean,” Logan waved his hand dismissively. “I already met Victoria, the heiress my parents set me up with. We’re both happy with the arrangement. The news is going to break soon, so I need a definitive answer before that.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice: “Dominic, we need to up the stakes. Before my engagement party with Victoria, you have to make Vivian fall in love with you.” I sat in Dominic’s private lounge and ate three slices of cake, and Logan still hadn’t left. Losing my patience, I sent Dominic a text. A few seconds later, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Logan was saying, “Alright, I’m heading out. Don’t forget what we agreed on!” The footsteps faded away. Thirty seconds later, the lounge door opened. I raised the garment bag in my hand. “Brought your suit for a fitting.” Dominic’s dark eyes flared with hunger. I unzipped the garment bag and gestured for him to come over. He stared at me for a few seconds before finally stepping in front of me. I reached up, naturally unbuttoning his suit jacket and sliding it off his shoulders. He raised his arms cooperatively, letting the old jacket fall to reveal his crisp white shirt. Since a new suit required adjusting the shoulders and waist, I stepped behind him, draping the new fabric over his shoulders. My fingers slowly traced down his shoulder blades. I could feel the heat radiating from his skin through the shirt. “Raise your arms.” Instead of raising his arms, he suddenly spun around and grabbed my wrists. His grip wasn’t painful, but before I could react, he pinned me against the door. He leaned in, his hot breath mingling with mine. I didn’t push him away. Instead, I grabbed his tie, pulling him even closer. He paused for a fraction of a second, then slammed his lips onto mine, hard and desperate. I tilted my head up, matching his frantic rhythm. His hand slid down from the door to cup the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me flush against his hard chest. When the kiss finally ended, his voice was thick and raspy. “When are you going to let Logan know?” I tilted my head and smiled. “I never said I was keeping it a secret.” Logan’s birthday bash was scheduled to be at Dominic’s luxury cabin resort in Aspen. That would be the perfect place to reveal the truth.

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It was the third month after Leo and I got our marriage license at City Hall. He was working late more and more often. I didn’t think much of it. Until that day, when I decided to surprise him by bringing lunch to his office. The receptionist smiled at me. “Mr. Osman is in the conference room, Liz. You can wait here.” The conference room door was slightly ajar. There was no meeting inside. Only Leo and a woman sitting opposite each other. She was crying. The way he handed her a tissue—gentle, slow—was exactly the way he used to comfort me. I stood at the door, holding the Tupperware of lunch I had made him. He looked up and saw me. Panic flashed in his eyes for a split second before he quickly stood up. “Liz, she’s a new hire. She’s going through some family trouble—” I forced a smile and set the Tupperware on the table. “It’s fine.” Then I looked at the girl and said softly, “You should use these tissues instead. The ones in his pocket are mint-scented. I put them there this morning. You might not like the smell.” With that, I turned around and walked away. As the elevator doors closed, I heard him calling my name from down the hall. I didn’t look back. I just reached down, slipped the ring off my left ring finger, and left it on the ledge of the fire hose cabinet next to the elevator buttons.

“Sir, could you pull over here, please?” The Uber driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror but didn’t ask any questions. The car stopped. I pushed the door open, crouched by the roadside flowerbed, and dry-heaved. Nothing came out. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, and lunch was left on that conference room table. My phone buzzed for the nineteenth time. Leo’s name kept lighting up the screen like a broken bulb that wouldn’t go out. I declined the call, stood up, and told the driver to keep going. When I got home and opened the door, the scent of the oxtail soup I had simmered last night hit me. Inside the fridge, seven meal-prep containers were stacked neatly, labeled Monday through Sunday with the dish names and microwave times. I took them out, one by one, popped the lids, and dumped them into the trash. The soup splashed onto the back of my hand, burning hot. I didn’t even wipe it off. My phone rang again. A FaceTime call this time. I turned it off. On the entryway console table lay Leo’s spare key. I picked it up, clenching it in my fist until the cold metal dug painfully into my palm. Then I sat on the couch, staring at the living room ceiling, from four in the afternoon until the sky turned pitch black. The sound of the lock turning. Leo was home. “Liz?” he called out as he kicked off his shoes at the entrance. I didn’t answer. He walked into the living room, saw me sitting in the dark, and flipped the light switch. “Why are you sitting in the dark? Is your phone dead? I called you over twenty times.” “Yeah.” He sat down across from me. He was still wearing his light blue dress shirt, the top button undone. I smelled it. It wasn’t mint. It was jasmine. Faint, lingering on his right cuff. It must have rubbed off when that girl got too close to him. “Liz, let me explain.” His tone was identical to the one he used in the conference room this afternoon. Even the pauses were the same. “Her name is Sammy. She just graduated this year, and her family situation is a mess. Her parents are getting a divorce.” “She doesn’t have any friends here. As her department head, I—” “When did you start caring so much about her?” He paused. “Since she started last month.” “Last month,” I repeated. “And your overtime started getting worse last month, too.” “That was because of the end-of-quarter rush—” “Leo Osman.” When I used his full name, he shut his mouth. “The way you hand over a tissue. You pinch the edge with your thumb and index finger, then gently slide it over.” “When you were pursuing me, the first time I cried in the movie theater, you did that exact same thing.” The calm expression on his face cracked. “You told me that was a gesture reserved only for me.” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. I stood up and placed his spare key on the coffee table. “I locked the bedroom door. You’re sleeping in the guest room tonight.” “Liz—” “Goodnight.” I walked into the bedroom and locked the door behind me. I slid down against the door, sitting on the cold floor. It was quiet outside for a long time. Then his voice came through the door, muffled and heavy. “You’re overreacting.” I didn’t reply. He spoke again. “We are strictly colleagues. If you’re going to make a scene out of nothing, we can’t even talk.” I looked up at the ceiling. Then I spoke, my voice barely a whisper. “The way you handed her that tissue was exactly how you used to do it for me.” “Goodnight, Leo.”

“Did you sleep at all last night? Your dark circles are terrible.” Harper pushed a cup of coffee toward me, staring at my face. “I’m fine. Just some insomnia lately.” She didn’t pry. Instead, she started complaining about how her husband stuffed too many clothes into the washing machine yesterday, causing the door to pop open and blast soapy water all over her face. I listened and managed a small laugh. My phone buzzed inside my bag. I didn’t check it. Harper stopped mid-sentence. “Aren’t you going to check that? What if it’s Leo?” “He’s at work. He doesn’t call at this hour.” “Oh,” she said, continuing her story. As I took a sip of my coffee, I glanced down at my screen. It wasn’t Leo. It was a text from an unknown number: Liz, I am so sorry about yesterday. I really don’t want to come between you and Mr. Osman. — Sammy How did she get my number? The question bounced around my head twice before the obvious answer hit me. Either Leo gave it to her, or she took it from his phone. Either way, it meant they were much closer than he was letting on. I deleted the text. After parting ways with Harper, I went back to my office. At three in the afternoon, Leo sent a WhatsApp message: I’m coming home early tonight. I’ll make dinner. I replied with a simple, Okay. When I got home, there were four dishes on the table and a bouquet of pink carnations sitting in a vase in the entryway. Leo popped his head out of the kitchen, wearing an apron. “Try the grilled salmon. You said you wanted it last week.” I sat down and took a bite. It tasted good. He watched me eat from across the table, his eyes filled with a cautious anxiety. “Liz, about yesterday… I had a bad attitude. I shouldn’t have said you were making a scene.” “Okay.” “In the future, if something’s bothering you, just tell me. Don’t turn off your phone. I worry when I can’t reach you.” “Sure.” He let out a sigh of relief. It was a fleeting expression, but I caught it. He wasn’t relieved because he had made things right with me. He was relieved because he thought this chapter was closed. After dinner, he went to do the dishes. I sat on the couch and picked up his car keys. I didn’t have a specific plan; it was just an instinctive reaction. But then I remembered something. Last weekend, he said he took the car to the car wash. When he came back, the passenger seat’s position had changed. I’m 5’7″. The seat was adjusted for someone around 5’3″. I hadn’t thought much of it then. Now, I did. I put the keys back. Leo walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands, and saw me spacing out. “What are you thinking about?” “When you got the car washed last week, did the detailers adjust the passenger seat?” His hands paused mid-wipe. “Probably. They have to clean the interior, so they move things around.” “Oh.” I nodded and dropped the subject. He walked over, sat next to me, and put his arm around my shoulder. I didn’t pull away, but I didn’t lean into him either. His hand on my shoulder felt incredibly light. In the past, when he held me, he would pull me tightly into his chest. Now, this touch felt like he was merely trying to pacify a difficult client. Later that night, he went to take a shower first. I picked up his phone from the couch. It wasn’t locked. He had never set a passcode on his phone, from the day we started dating until now. I used to think it was a sign of trust. Now, I wasn’t so sure. The first pinned chat on his WhatsApp was me, the second was his mom, and the third was a work group. I scrolled through his chats. There was no thread with Sammy. He had deleted it. The sound of the shower stopped. I put the phone back exactly where it was. He stepped out, his hair still wet, and glanced at me. “Aren’t you going to shower?” “Going now.” I stood up. As I passed him, the scent of the sandalwood body wash I bought him washed over me. Squeaky clean. No traces of anything else. But I knew that deleted chats, just like washed-off jasmine perfume, didn’t mean they never existed. He just didn’t want me to see them.

“Mrs. Osman, we haven’t seen you in a while!” The supermarket cashier greeted me warmly. She knew me because during our first month of marriage, I came here almost every day to buy groceries. But then I stopped coming. Leo said he had too many business dinners and came home too late, so I shouldn’t waste time cooking. I smiled and pushed my cart forward. My phone rang. It was Harper. “Liz, is that colleague of your husband’s named Sammy?” My hand on the shopping cart froze. “How do you know?” “My husband’s Instagram. He and Leo have a mutual friend.” “A photo was posted yesterday from some business gala. Leo was standing next to this young girl, and she was holding his suit jacket.” “The caption said: Mr. Osman is so thoughtful. Sammy caught a cold, so he lent her his jacket.” I stood in front of the frozen food aisle, the cold air blasting onto my face. “Screenshot it and send it to me.” Three seconds later, the picture popped up. In the photo, Leo was in his white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The girl next to him was clutching his dark gray suit jacket. Her head was tilted slightly, a shy smile on her face. She was very young, with a round face and bangs. She looked barely twenty-two. The way she held his jacket made it look like the most precious thing in the world. Harper waited a few seconds. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” “Liz, let me tell you, this whole thing—” “I know.” I hung up and saved the screenshot to my hidden album. Then I sent Leo a text: It’s getting cold tonight. Did you bring your jacket? He replied instantly: Yeah, I have it. Bundle up yourself. I didn’t reply. He said he had it, but his jacket was in someone else’s hands. He came home around nine-thirty, carrying a bakery box. “I passed by that bakery you like. I remember you saying their cheesecake is great.” I opened the box and cut a slice for him. “How was the business gala today?” His fork paused halfway to his mouth. “What gala?” “Your colleague posted on Instagram.” Silence fell over the room. He set his fork down and looked at me. “Are you keeping tabs on me now?” When he said that, his eyes turned cold. It wasn’t guilt. It was annoyance. “I’m not. Harper saw it,” I said, my voice incredibly flat. “Did you lend your jacket out? You told me you had it with you when it got cold.” “It’s just a jacket, Liz. She was sick. You don’t need to go this far—” “Go this far to do what?” He didn’t answer. I looked down and took a bite of the cheesecake. It was sweet, too sweet. It actually made me feel a bit sick. “Leo, when did you start thinking that me asking a simple question is ‘going too far’?” He rubbed his temples. “Liz, I don’t want to fight.” “Neither do I.” I put the cake down. “So just answer me one question—the day you got your car washed last week, who sat in the passenger seat?” His face stiffened. It was only for a second, then he recovered his composure. “Nobody. I told you, the detailers—” “I adjusted my seat back to my height. Before I left the house today, I checked it again. It was lowered. You didn’t get your car washed today.” The living room fell into a dead silence for five full seconds. Leo stood up abruptly, tossing his fork onto the plate with a loud clatter. “What are you trying to do, Liz? Watching every little detail like a hawk. Is this fun for you?” “No, it’s not.” I stood up too and closed the bakery box. “It’s not fun at all.” His lips trembled, but he said nothing. He turned and walked into the guest room, slamming the door. The sound wasn’t deafening, but it was clear. I stood alone in the living room, looking down at the cake box. Cheesecake. The bakery I told him I liked had relocated two weeks ago. This cake wasn’t from there. He had either forgotten, or he never bothered to care in the first place.

“Are you home? I came by to see you.” Eleanor, Leo’s mom, stood at the door carrying a bag of fruit and some steaks. I let her in and poured her a cup of tea. She sat on the couch and looked around, her eyes lingering on the coat rack. “Why are Leo’s coats hanging outside the guest room? Are you two… having a fight?” “No. He’s been working a lot of overtime lately and didn’t want to wake me up when he gets back late, so he’s sleeping there.” She nodded, but her expression didn’t soften completely. “Liz, you two have been married for three months now. When are you going to start a family? You should have babies while you’re still young.” My hand holding the teacup remained perfectly still. “We’re in no rush, Eleanor. We want to wait a bit.” “Wait for what? Leo is already thirty. His father always wanted to see a grandchild before he passed…” Her voice was gentle but carried that nagging, persistent pressure. I kept a polite smile on my face, like a mask. As Eleanor was putting on her shoes at the door to leave, her gaze swept over the shoe rack. She paused. “Liz, are these white sneakers yours?” I looked over. On the bottom shelf was a pair of small, white sneakers. Size 6. I wear a size 8.

“No, they’re not mine.” The moment the words left my mouth, I froze. Eleanor gave an awkward laugh. “Oh, maybe a friend left them here.” “Maybe.” I saw her out, then crouched in front of the shoe rack. The soles of the shoes were very clean, barely worn. On the inner label, there was a small set of initials written in black Sharpie: S.O. Sammy. She had been in this house. While I was away. I took a picture of the shoes and saved it. Then I put them back exactly where they were, not moving them even a millimeter. That evening, Leo came home while I was cooking. He changed his shoes and walked into the kitchen, standing behind me. “My mom came by today?” “Yeah. She brought some steaks.” “What did she say?” “She asked when we’re having kids.” He was quiet for a couple of seconds before sitting down at the dining table. As I brought the food out, I casually remarked, “There’s a pair of white sneakers on the bottom shelf of the shoe rack. Size 6. They aren’t mine.” “Check if one of your female colleagues left them behind.” He was pouring water. His hand shook, spilling some onto the counter. “Oh… we had a team dinner here last time. Someone probably forgot them.” “You had a team dinner at our place?” “Just once. You were working late that night.” I didn’t recall ever working so late that I didn’t come home. My job never required overtime, and Leo knew that. But I didn’t call him out. I sat down and took a bite of my food, chewing slowly. He sat opposite me, not touching his plate. “Liz.” “Yeah?” “Lately… have you been looking for reasons to find fault with me?” I looked up at him. “I’m not looking for them, Leo. They are just showing up on their own.” His throat bobbed. “I’ll throw those shoes away tomorrow.” “No need,” I said, looking back down at my food. “Like I said, they aren’t mine. They have nothing to do with me.” After dinner, he retreated to the guest room again. I waited until the door closed, then opened my phone. I opened my hidden folder: the photo from the conference room door, the passenger seat, the Instagram screenshot Harper sent me, the text message from Sammy, and the photo of the size 6 sneakers. One by one, sorted by date, saved in an encrypted album. Then, I dialed a number. “Hello, is this Attorney Vance? I’d like to schedule a consultation regarding filing for divorce.”

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Three years into my engagement with Ethan Vance, he became the most famous billionaire in America. He claimed to be a germaphobe who couldn’t stand the touch of women. Once, I accidentally brushed against his sleeve, and he not only threw the entire designer suit away but also showered three times. I thought he was like that with everyone. Until today, when his Maybach’s dashcam automatically synced to my cloud storage. On the screen, the man who claimed to despise physical contact was gripping his ex-girlfriend’s tiny waist, kissing her passionately in the backseat. Ethan ripped her expensive silk dress. The woman gasped breathlessly, “Ethan, what if your fiancée finds out? Won’t she make a scene?” He sneered, his voice dark and raspy. “She’s like a dead fish. Boring. How could she ever compare to you? Just touching her makes me sick.” I watched the screen. No tears, no screaming. I just calmly pressed Enter on my keyboard. And injected a lethal self-destruct virus into the core code of the autonomous driving AI—the very code I had spent three years of blood, sweat, and tears writing for him. Ethan, since you dared to betray me, let’s see if you can afford the price.

“Stella, run a bath for me. I need to wash up.” Late at night, Ethan returned home. As usual, he ordered me around like a servant. I sat in the shadow of the living room, where the lights were off, and didn’t move. He casually threw his damp jacket onto the sofa without throwing a single glance my way, walking straight to the bar to pour a glass of water. I could clearly smell a faint, sweet trace of tuberose perfume on him. It was Bianca Reed’s favorite scent. The laptop screen in front of me glowed with a ghostly blue light. Frozen on the screen was a snapshot of him in the garage half an hour ago, pinning Bianca against the steering wheel, kissing her like crazy. For the past three years, to accommodate his so-called “germaphobia,” I had always kept my distance. How pathetic that I was only finding out now—his germaphobia was highly selective. It only applied to me. “Ethan.” I closed the laptop, my voice sounding strangely loud in the empty room. He froze mid-pour, then turned around. “Why are the lights off? It’s pitch black.” He walked over, looking down at me. He pulled a cheaply made charm bracelet from his pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table. “I went to a business meeting today and picked this up for you. Stop complaining about my germaphobia.” I looked at that cheap piece of junk. Suddenly, the image from the dashcam flashed through my mind. He had just hand-fastened a twenty-million-dollar ruby necklace around Bianca’s neck. “My darling deserves the absolute best. Stella Brooks is nothing but a useful tool.” That was what he had whispered to Bianca. A wave of intense nausea surged from my stomach. I stood up, ignoring the bracelet, and looked directly into his deep eyes. “Let’s call off the engagement.” Ethan narrowed his eyes, studying me before letting out a soft, mocking chuckle. “Stella, who taught you to play these hard-to-get games?” He slowly pulled out a wet wipe, thoroughly wiping the fingers that had just touched the bracelet, as if he had contaminated himself. “If this is about me coming home late tonight, there’s no need for this drama. Bianca’s depression flared up, and she tried to slit her wrists. I only went to the hospital out of basic humanity.” He tossed the used wipe perfectly into the trash can, his tone flat, without a single ripple of emotion. “Don’t joke about marriage. If you wanted my attention, congratulations, you got it. Tomorrow, I’ll have my assistant order a custom gown for you. You’ll accompany me to the Tech Summit next week.” “Consider it compensation for your wild imagination tonight. Don’t push your luck.” Looking at his hypocritical face, I felt nothing but disgust. Over the past three years, I had stayed up until dawn countless times writing code. Whenever I begged him to watch a movie with me, he always excused himself, saying he had to prepare for the company’s IPO. Now, suddenly, he was willing to make time. “I’m not going.” “The engagement is off. Tomorrow morning, I will contact my lawyer to revoke Vance Enterprises’ free access to all AI patents under my name.” Ethan finally lost his patience. He slammed his glass down onto the marble counter with a heavy thud. “Since you’re not in a state to listen to reason, stay home and reflect. When you’ve cleared your head, call me.” He turned toward the door. “I’m staying at the Westside Villa tonight to get some peace.” At the doorway, he paused and muttered to his assistant outside, “Go buy her a cake.” The front door slammed shut, and the roar of his sports car faded into the heavy rain. Half an hour later, the assistant, drenched, rang the doorbell holding a pastry box. “Miss Brooks, Mr. Vance went out of his way to buy this to cheer you up.” I didn’t take it. Ethan’s notes on his phone made it crystal clear: every time Bianca had an episode, she needed cake to calm down. Even his way of comforting me was copied from his habits with another woman. “Throw it away,” I said, shutting the door. That night, Ethan didn’t go to the Westside Villa. At 2:00 AM, I saw a photo posted on Bianca’s Instagram. In the photo, Ethan was wearing his black silk shirt, leaning against the headboard of a five-star hotel bed, holding a steaming bowl of soup for her. The caption read: [Even if the whole world abandons me, my god will still descend from his heaven for me.]

The next morning, I took an Uber to a law firm downtown. Separating my core patents and revoking the prenuptial agreement was a tedious process. I sat in the conference room for five hours straight, checking every single line of code and patent I had once handed over out of love. When I signed the final revocation letter, a sharp pain shot through my chest. My vision went black, and I almost collapsed onto the desk. Over the last three years, to keep up with Vance Enterprises’ IPO timeline, I had worked day and night. My severe tachycardia was the direct result of that endless grind. Terrified, the lawyer quickly called a ride and sent me straight to the high-end private hospital owned by Vance Enterprises. The VIP cardiology suite on the top floor was a private sanctuary Ethan had publicly reserved for me during last year’s annual gala. Clutching my chest, I dragged my heavy legs out of the elevator. But just as I reached the corner of the hallway, two hulking security guards in black suits stepped in front of me. “Miss Brooks, we’re sorry. Mr. Vance ordered that no one is allowed to disturb them.” Leaning against the cold marble wall, I gasped for air. Through the half-drawn blinds of the ward, I saw everything. Ethan was sitting by the bed, carefully peeling an apple with a silver knife. Beside him, Bianca had a thin layer of gauze wrapped around her wrist. It wasn’t a suicide attempt at all; it was barely a scratch. She leaned weakly against Ethan’s shoulder, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Ethan, I had a nightmare last night. I dreamed you left me. I was so scared…” Ethan set the apple down, draped his designer suit jacket over her shoulders, and pulled her into his chest, resting his chin on her hair. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here.” His voice was so tender it could melt ice. That was a warmth he had never once shown me. Suddenly, the door opened. Ethan walked out with an empty thermos, intending to get hot water. He bumped straight into me. Seeing my deathly pale face and bloodless lips, his brows knitted into a tight, irritated knot. He didn’t ask why I looked so ill. He didn’t even notice my hand clutching my chest in pain. “Stella, are you really trying to steal a hospital room from Bianca now?” He lowered his voice, his tone dripping with disgust and accusation. “Bianca has severe depression and can’t handle any stress. You’re perfectly healthy—why do you have to fight a sick person for attention?” “This jealous, clinging act of yours is getting ugly.” The pain in my chest made it hard to breathe, let alone argue. I clenched my teeth, staring at the gradient-colored thermos in his hand. It was a limited-edition piece I had waited in line for three hours to buy him last winter. It had been kept in this room for my use. Now, it belonged to Bianca. Seeing my silence, Ethan assumed I was feeling guilty. He signaled his assistant in the distance. “Take Miss Brooks downstairs to the general ER to queue up. And grab a cashmere blanket from my car for her. Don’t let her stand here making a scene.” The assistant returned quickly, holding a white Hermès cashmere blanket, and offered it to me. “Put it on,” Ethan said, looking at me with a condescending pity. “Once Bianca falls asleep, I’ll take you out for that sushi you love.” I looked down at the blanket. The strong scent of tuberose perfume hit my nose. It was obvious who had been wrapped in this blanket in the backseat of his Maybach last night. Ignoring the agony in my chest, I walked past Ethan step by step toward the medical waste bin at the end of the hall. I let go. The expensive cashmere blanket fell perfectly into the yellow bin labeled [Infectious Waste]. Ethan’s face darkened instantly, the veins on his temples throbbing with rage. I turned around. I didn’t take the elevator. Holding onto the cold handrail, I walked down the stairs, step by step, leaving the top floor behind. Behind me, Ethan’s voice hissed with venom. “Stella Brooks! If you walk out of this hospital today, don’t you dare crawl back begging for my help ever again!” I didn’t look back.

I spent the entire night on oxygen in the emergency room observation ward. The next morning, I ripped the IV needle out of my hand and took a cab straight to the Vance Enterprises headquarters. The global launch of the [Stellar-Drive AI System] was scheduled for tomorrow morning. This was Vance Enterprises’ golden ticket to entering the billion-dollar electric vehicle market. Over the past three years, to stand by his side as an equal, I had hidden my identity as his fiancée. I had worked as the chief engineer, leading my team through countless sleepless nights and writing millions of lines of code to perfect this system. It was my life’s work as a master software architect. I walked to my desk to back up the final data. But as I stepped out of the elevator, the massive LED billboard in the lobby made me freeze. Where it once read: [Stellar-Drive AI — Chief Architect: Stella Brooks] It now read: [LunaTech — Chief Architect: Bianca Reed]. I pressed the button for the top floor and kicked the CEO’s office door open. Ethan was sitting in his large leather chair, signing documents. Bianca sat on the Italian leather sofa nearby, browsing seasonal high jewelry on an iPad. Hearing the noise, Ethan looked up. Seeing it was me, he set his Montblanc pen down. He walked to the bar, poured a warm glass of milk, and slid it toward me. “Drink some milk first. You look terrible. Did you stay up throwing another tantrum last night?” His tone was gentle, carrying a suffocating sense of entitlement. “I was actually about to call you about the name change and the credits.” “Stella, you’re going to be my wife. Everything Vance Enterprises owns will be half yours in the future. Why get worked up over a silly title?” “Bianca’s depression is very severe right now. Her therapist said she needs a strong social identity and a sense of achievement to rebuild her confidence.” “Just look at it as a charity case to save her life. Give her the credit. Everyone in the industry knows how good you are anyway; you don’t need this one title.” Bianca put down her iPad, walked over to wrap her arms around Ethan’s, and looked at me timidly, her eyes turning red instantly. “Stella… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal your hard work. I’ve just felt like life is so pointless lately. Ethan said this project would help me find my value. If you mind, I’ll give it back to you right now…” Ethan held her hand, patting it reassuringly. Then, he slid a black Amex card toward me. “Take this no-limit black card. Go buy that Porsche you’ve wanted for a long time. Consider it my compensation. Be good, and don’t make a scene in the office.” I didn’t touch the milk, nor did I look at the black card. I just stared at this man, watching him trample all over my hard work just to feed another woman’s vanity. “Fine.” I nodded, without saying another word. I turned and walked out of the office. The moment the door closed, my fingers brushed against the cold metal of the micro-USB drive in my pocket. The tech empire I had spent three years building for him would become the first tombstone of Vance Enterprises tomorrow.

The annual Tech Summit and Charity Gala was held at the Park Hyatt in the city center. Dozens of tech media and financial channels were livestreaming the event. For the past three years, Ethan had demanded that I dress modestly and stay out of the spotlight. Tonight, I wore a backless, pure black designer gown. With my hair pinned up and bold red lipstick, I looked as sharp and cold as a blade. Holding a glass of champagne, I stood by the edge of the circular balcony on the second floor, looking down coldly at the fake smiles below. When the gala reached its peak, Ethan went up to the stage to deliver his keynote speech. Bianca stood right beside him, wearing a white mermaid gown, looking like a proud swan. As she reached up to adjust the microphone, her wrist caught the brilliant light, flashing a deep blue. I saw exactly what it was. It was my late father’s last bequest—a rare, limited-edition Patek Philippe Sky Moon Tourbillon. Two weeks ago, Ethan had taken it from me, claiming he was sending it to a master Swiss horologist for maintenance. Now, it was on Bianca’s wrist, serving as her latest trophy. After the speech, Ethan went to mingle with the crowd. Bianca, holding a glass of red wine, walked straight toward the champagne tower where I was standing. She stopped half a meter away from me. Nearby, cameras began to drift toward us. “Stella, this black dress really doesn’t suit you. You look like a widow who just lost her husband,” Bianca whispered, her voice too low for anyone else to hear. She raised her wrist, stroking the Patek Philippe watch mockingly. “This watch is beautiful. Ethan said only my elegance could match it. Leaving it with you is just a waste of a masterpiece.” I stared at her and took a step back, widening the gap between us. “Why are you backing away?” Bianca suddenly shrieked. She lifted her glass, her body suddenly leaning forward, and threw herself directly into the massive champagne tower beside us. Her wrist slammed hard against the solid glass base. With a sharp crack, the sapphire glass of the watch face shattered, and the delicate gears spilled across the floor. The champagne tower collapsed, sending glass shards flying everywhere. Bianca used the momentum to fall right into the pile of broken glass, her arm getting sliced by several small shards. “Ah! It hurts!” Clutching her bleeding arm, she looked up at me in terror, tears streaming down her face like broken pearls. “Stella! I know you’re mad at me for taking the credit for the AI system, but why did you push me?! You know my depression can’t handle this!” The crowd gasped. Everyone’s eyes and dozens of high-definition cameras locked onto us instantly. The crowd was roughly pushed aside, and Ethan rushed out like a furious beast. He took one look at the blood on the floor and the shattered watch, then ripped off his suit jacket to wrap a trembling Bianca tightly in his arms. He stood up slowly, stepping right in front of me, his eyes terrifyingly dark. Slap! Without any warning, a heavy blow landed on my cheek. The force of the slap whipped my head to the side, and the metallic taste of blood burst in my mouth. The flashbulbs went wild. Ethan’s hands gripped my shoulders so hard his knuckles turned white. He twisted the heavy platinum ring on his finger, his eyes, usually so cold, now burning with pure rage. “Stella Brooks, did you leave your manners in the gutter? You know how fragile she is, yet you pushed her! How can you be so vicious?” He commanded, his voice heavy with undeniable pressure: “Kneel down. Apologize to Bianca. Don’t make me say it twice in front of the press.” I didn’t shed a single tear. I wiped the blood from my lip with my tongue, tasting the iron. Then, I reached out and grabbed a broken champagne bottle neck from the table beside me. Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, I drove the jagged glass deep into Ethan’s left shoulder. The glass tore through his expensive white shirt, sinking deep into his flesh. Blood sprayed instantly, splashing across Bianca’s pale, horrified face. “Ah—!” Bianca screamed like a dying pig. Ethan let out a sharp gasp of pain, his eyes wide. His grip on my shoulders loosened instantly. He stared at me in disbelief, as if he didn’t recognize the woman standing before him. I pulled a thick manila envelope from my purse and slammed it hard against his perfect face. Inside were the bank records and signed documents proving Ethan had used my AI patent royalties to purchase three luxury villas overseas for Bianca. The papers scattered like snow, falling around the guests’ feet. I slipped off the diamond engagement ring that represented three years of my wasted youth and threw it onto the red carpet like trash. “Ethan Vance, you played the clean germaphobe for so long, did you actually start believing you aren’t filthy?” I looked at his bleeding shoulder and spoke, my voice echoing clearly through the entire hall. “Take your trash and rot in the gutter.” I turned, stepping over the glass in my high heels, and walked out of the gala without looking back.

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At the family dinner, Chloe suddenly looked at me and asked: “Natasha, do you still hate Cameron for making you take the rap for Louise and go to prison?” I smiled and shook my head. “Not at all. After all, if that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have met my current fiancé.” As I spoke, I casually adjusted my collar, letting the sapphire necklace around my neck catch the light. Then, I pulled out a stack of gold-embossed engagement invitations and handed them to everyone at the table. “My engagement party is next month. I hope you all can make it.” The moment those words left my mouth, the main table went dead silent. Everyone’s eyes instantly locked onto the man who had just crushed his wine glass with his bare hand. His eyes were bloodshot, looking as if he wanted to tear me apart. But I was actually surprised to see him lose his mind like this. “Natasha, what did you just say? Say that again!” The sharp sound of shattering glass echoed through the silent banquet hall. Cameron violently pushed his chair back. Ignoring the glass shards dug deep into his palm, he marched toward me. Blood dripped down his fingers, leaving dark red stains on the expensive carpet. He stared at the invitation in my hand, his eyes filled with terrifying veins, his chest heaving violently. The relatives exchanged uneasy glances, not daring to make a sound. I sat perfectly still, finding his loss of control utterly pathetic. Three years ago, when he forced me into prison, he was cold and calculated. “Is your hearing going bad with age, Cameron?” I slid the last invitation across the table, right in front of him. “I said, I’m getting engaged.” Cameron snatched up the invitation, his eyes locking onto the two names printed side by side. The veins on the back of his hand bulged, his knuckles turning white from his grip. “Kennedy Monroe?” he sneered through clenched teeth. “Natasha, you really are desperate. You’d use any cheap trick just to get back at me.” “Hiring some random guy to play your fiancé and daring to use the Monroe family name? Do you have a death wish?” I picked up my teacup, took a calm sip, and spoke in a flat voice. “Whether it’s an act or not, you can come and see for yourself next month.” Cameron slammed the invitation onto the table and leaned in close, looming over me. The familiar scent of cedar cologne on him only made me feel sick now. “Natasha, stop throwing tantrums. There’s a limit to my patience.” “You’ve been out of prison for two weeks. Haven’t I been accommodating enough?” “I bought you a house, a car. And you still choose to embarrass yourself in front of my entire family?” His tone carried a sickening, patronizing pity, as if I were just a pet throwing a childish fit. I raised my eyes to meet his angry glare. “Cameron, do you honestly think that because I spent three years in prison for Louise, I’m chained to you like a dog for the rest of my life?” At the mention of “Louise,” Cameron’s face darkened instantly. Before he could speak, a delicate, fragile voice echoed from the entrance of the hall. “Natasha, please stop using this to hurt Cameron.” Louise walked in, wearing a pure white haute couture dress. She looked like a spotless white lotus. She naturally wrapped her arm around Cameron’s, pulling out a handkerchief to gently wipe the blood from his hand. “Cameron is only doing what’s best for you. You just got out of prison. With a criminal record, what decent man would ever marry you?” She turned to look at me, a flash of smugness in her eyes. “That necklace… it’s a cheap knockoff, isn’t it?” “If you’re really that broke, or just want to show off, you could have asked us. There’s no need to buy fake jewelry.” The relatives immediately began whispering, their eyes filled with disdain. “Exactly. Who would want a woman who’s been to prison?” “Showing off a fake necklace… how embarrassing.” I stared at Louise’s hypocritical act, feeling a wave of disgust. Three years ago, she was the one who committed the hit-and-run. Yet now, she stood here, glamorous and shining, mocking the scapegoat who took her place. Cameron held Louise’s hand and looked down at me coldly. “Take that necklace off. Stop embarrassing yourself.” I gently touched the sapphire necklace. Kennedy had put it around my neck himself last night. “Make sure to bring your precious Louise with you, Cameron. Don’t be late for the wedding toast.”

“Do you really think buying a fake necklace will get my attention?” Cameron let out a cold laugh, his voice filled with arrogance. “Natasha, I’m giving you one last chance. Leave with me now, and I’ll pretend none of this happened.” Looking at his self-righteous face, I found the whole situation hilarious. I ignored him, grabbed my bag, and walked toward the exit, ignoring the whispers of the crowd. Behind me, Cameron’s voice boomed, thick with suppressed rage. “Natasha! If you walk out that door today, don’t you dare come crawling back to me on your knees!” I didn’t stop. Without looking back, I pushed open the heavy doors. The cool night wind swept over me, washing away the suffocating air of the banquet hall. While waiting for my ride, my mind drifted back to that rainy night three years ago. That night, Cameron had banged on my apartment door, dripping wet. He fell to his knees, his eyes red and his voice trembling. “Natasha, Louise hit someone with her car. The victim is in critical condition.” “She has severe clinical depression. If she goes to prison, she won’t survive.” “Please help her. Just this once.” I was too shocked to speak, staring at the man I had loved for five years. “Cameron, you want me to take the fall for her?” He grabbed my hand tightly, like a drowning man clutching a straw. “The security cameras were down, and only the two of you were in the car area. As long as you confess you were driving…” “I promise, I’ll hire the best lawyers to get you out in six months.” “Once you’re out, we’ll get married. You’ll be Mrs. Franklin.” I was so foolish back then. For his empty promise and his desperate tears, I nodded. But instead of six months, I got three years of living in hell. Inside, I didn’t just lose my freedom. I lost the one thing I cherished most. A black Maybach pulled up silently in front of me, cutting my memories short. The window rolled down, revealing Cameron’s gloomy face. “Get in,” he commanded. I took a step back, keeping my distance. “Is there something you need, Mr. Franklin?” Cameron frowned, clearly annoyed by my coldness. “Haven’t you had enough? Must you make a scene on the street?” “I’ve arranged a condo for you downtown. Report to the logistics department at Franklin Enterprises tomorrow.” “Louise is kind-hearted. She felt bad for you, so she begged me to find you a decent job.” Hearing that, I wanted to laugh out loud. Working as a cleaning lady at Franklin Enterprises, and I was supposed to thank Louise for it? “No, thank you. I have no interest in your charity, Mr. Franklin.” I turned to leave, but Cameron slammed his car door open, lunging forward to grab my right wrist. An agonizing pain shot from my wrist straight to my chest. My face went pale. I gasped and violently wrenched my hand back. “Let go of me!” Cameron froze, taken aback by my extreme reaction. His frown deepened. “What are you screaming for? I can’t even touch you now?” He had no idea. In that prison, someone had stomped on my right hand, crushing my fingers. I could never play the piano again. Clutching my trembling right hand, I glared at him. “Cameron, my patience has its limits. Get lost.”

“Natasha, don’t push your luck!” Cameron’s face turned completely cold, his eyes dark and menacing. “Look at yourself. Who do you think you are?” “An ex-con with a criminal record. Who else would want you besides me?” “Do you really think a man like Kennedy Monroe would marry you? You’re just a plaything to him.” I looked at his raging face, feeling absolutely nothing. “That is none of your business, Mr. Franklin.” I hailed a passing taxi and slid into the backseat. As the car sped away, I saw Cameron standing under the streetlights in the rearview mirror, his face twisted in anger. The next morning, I went to an interview for an administrative manager position at a multinational firm. The pay and benefits were excellent, and I had aced the written tests and the initial interview. The HR Director, Sarah, was highly impressed and was about to hand me the offer letter. Just then, her office phone rang. She picked it up, listened for a few seconds, and her expression slowly changed. After hanging up, she looked at me with a mixture of pity and regret. “Miss Sinclair, I am terribly sorry. We just received a directive from upper management… We cannot hire you.” My heart sank, but I kept my composure. “May I know why?” Sarah sighed and lowered her voice. “Your background check… Someone powerful called in. They mentioned your criminal record.” “And… they said you crossed someone you shouldn’t have.” I understood immediately. In this city, the only people who had the power and malice to do this were Cameron and Louise. I thanked her politely, took my resume, and walked out of the building. As soon as I reached the lobby, I saw Louise. She was wearing sunglasses and designer heels, flanked by a group of bodyguards. Seeing me, she stopped, took off her sunglasses, and smirked. “Oh, look who it is. Natasha. Looking for a job?” She scanned my faded white shirt with pure contempt. “How did it go? Rejected again?” I stared at her coldly, saying nothing. Louise took two steps closer and whispered in my ear. “Natasha, did you really think you could start over?” “As long as I am in high society, you will never find a decent job in this city.” She chuckled softly, her voice dripping with venom. “I am grateful you went to prison for me. Truly.” “That’s why I asked Cameron to give you some money. Why don’t you take it and crawl back to your hometown? Why stay here and eyesore me?” Looking at her hideous face, I realized Cameron had been completely blind for three years. “Louise, do you really think that with Cameron protecting you, you own this world?” Louise raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “Well, crushing you is easier than stepping on an ant.” “Cameron loves me. You were nothing but a convenient shield.” She reached out to pat my cheek, but I slapped her hand away. “Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.” Louise’s face stiffened, but she quickly recovered her arrogant posture. “Enjoy being stubborn while you can, Natasha. Let’s see how long you last.” She put her sunglasses back on and walked away with her entourage. I stood in place, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number I knew by heart. The moment the call connected, I spoke softly. “Are you really sure you can play Mrs. Franklin forever, Louise?”

“Whether I play Mrs. Franklin or not is none of an ex-con’s business.” On the other end of the line, Louise sneered and hung up. In the afternoon, I received a frantic call from the nursing home where my mother was staying. The head nurse sounded extremely anxious. “Miss Sinclair, your mother’s account is overdrawn.” “And the administration just received an order. Your mother must vacate her private ICU suite tomorrow morning.” I took a deep breath, forcing down the burning rage in my chest. “I understand. I’m on my way.” The nursing home was owned by Franklin Enterprises. Back then, to make sure I took the fall quietly, Cameron had promised to provide my mother with the best medical care. Now, he was using my mother’s life to threaten me. When I arrived at the nursing home, Cameron was sitting on a bench outside my mother’s ward. He sat with his legs crossed, playing with a custom lighter, his expression completely detached. He didn’t even look up when I walked over. “Changed your mind?” I stood before him, looking down at his face. “Cameron, leave my family out of this. Don’t you think this is incredibly low?” He snapped the lighter shut, stood up, and stepped into my space, using his height to intimidate me. “Low? Natasha, I’m only taking back what I paid for.” “Since you refuse to be obedient, you have to face the consequences.” Just then, Louise walked down the corridor. She affectionately wrapped her arm around Cameron’s, her eyes landing on the sapphire necklace around my neck. Her eyes lit up instantly. “Oh Cameron, that necklace is so beautiful. I love it.” She pouted like a spoiled child, tugging at his arm. Cameron glanced at me, his tone casual, as if discussing a piece of garbage. “It’s just a knockoff anyway. Since Louise likes it, give it to her. I’ll transfer a hundred thousand dollars to your account.” I instinctively covered the necklace and took a step back. “It’s mine. It’s not for sale.” Louise pouted, acting hurt. “Natasha, don’t be so stingy.” “I’ll give you two hundred thousand. That’s enough to pay for your mother’s medical bills for months.” Seeing me refuse, Cameron’s face darkened instantly. “Natasha, don’t make me repeat myself.” “Your mother’s ICU room, her imported medication… everything depends on my mood.” “Take the necklace off and give it to Louise.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a deadly threat. Staring at the two of them, I felt my blood run cold. I clenched my teeth, my trembling hands slowly reaching behind my neck to unclasp the necklace. A triumphant gleam flashed in Louise’s eyes, and she reached out to grab it. But the moment her fingertips touched the chain, she gasped and let go. The priceless sapphire necklace fell onto the hard marble floor. It didn’t shatter, but it made a heavy, dull sound. Louise covered her mouth, putting on an innocent act. “Oops, my hand slipped.” She looked down at the necklace, her eyes filled with malicious joy. “Since it’s on the floor, I might as well step on it. You won’t mind, will you, Natasha?” With that, she raised her sharp stiletto heel, aiming straight for the sapphire. “Don’t you dare!” I screamed. Just as her heel was about to crush it, a cold, commanding voice echoed from the end of the hallway. “Step on it? Go ahead and try.”

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Three days before our biggest product launch and our engagement gala, I was in a horrific multi-car pileup. The driver’s side door was completely crushed. Shards of glass sliced deep into the back of my right hand, leaving me drenched in blood. As the freezing rain poured down, I shook violently from the agonizing pain. I called Ashton Thorne twenty-three times. When the line finally connected, it wasn’t Ashton’s voice. It was Serena Cole, sobbing hysterically. “Ashton… Pudding ran into that abandoned construction site. It’s so dark, and I’m so scared…” Ashton’s voice cut in, frantic yet incredibly tender. “Don’t move, Serena. I’m coming right now.” Then, he addressed me, his tone turning instantly dismissive. “Chloe, Serena’s cat is missing. She’s out in the middle of nowhere by herself, and she can’t see in the dark. It’s just a fender bender. Call a tow truck and go to the ER yourself. Stop trying to compete with her right now.” Click. He hung up. Six years. For six years, the moment Serena so much as sneezed, he would drop me without a second thought. I looked down at the engagement ring, now stained crimson with my own blood. With my left hand, I slowly pulled it off. This engagement? I didn’t want it anymore.

Heavy rain lashed against the shattered windshield. I was pinned tight in the driver’s seat, unable to move. The impact of the airbag had left my chest incredibly tight, and the metallic taste of blood welled up in my throat. The deepest cut was on my right hand. A triangular shard of glass was wedged deep into my skin. Blood dripped from my fingertips. It stained the steering wheel. It ruined the fresh gel manicure I had specifically gotten for our engagement gala in three days. The bright red against the pale skin made me feel physically sick. Outside, a paramedic was pounding on my window, shouting something, but the roaring storm drowned out his voice. I just stared at my phone. The screen lit up with Ashton’s name. My twenty-fourth call. Finally, he picked up. “Chloe Vance, are you seriously doing this right now?” Ashton’s voice was dripping with annoyance, backed by the loud revving of his car engine. “I told you, Serena’s cat is lost. That construction site has no lights, and you know she has severe night blindness. What if something happens to her?” I parted my lips, wanting to tell him I had been in a terrible crash. I wanted to tell him I was bleeding out, that my hand might be permanently ruined. But before I could make a sound, Serena’s weak whimpers came through the speaker. “Ashton… I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have come looking for Pudding in the dark… Is Chloe mad at you? Please go back to her. It’s fine if I just freeze out here…” Ashton’s breathing grew heavy with panic. “Don’t talk like that! I’m already here. I’m not leaving you.” He turned back to the phone, his voice as cold as ice. “Chloe, I know you like to be strong, but do you really have to play the victim to compete with Serena right now? Even if you got into a crash, you’re not going to die. Go to the hospital yourself!” Beep— The line went dead. The phone slipped from my weak fingers, falling into the puddle of water on the floor mat. The screen went black. Just like my heart, which had loved Ashton for six years, sinking into total darkness. The firefighters finally pried the door open. The freezing rain rushed in, making me shiver uncontrollably. As they lifted me into the ambulance, the paramedic looked at my bleeding hand and frowned. “Where is your emergency contact? You’re losing a lot of blood. We need someone to sign the consent forms!” I stared at the sterile white lights on the ceiling and forced a faint smile. “I don’t have anyone.” “It’s just me.” The paramedic blinked, startled, and didn’t ask further. The ambulance sped toward the hospital, sirens wailing. I closed my eyes, his words echoing in my head: Even if you got into a crash, you’re not going to die. He didn’t know that the glass shard was less than a centimeter away from my main artery. Just then, my phone—which the paramedic had retrieved for me—buzzed. It was a text from Carter, Ashton’s assistant. “Hey Chloe, Ashton asked me to let you know he’s helping Serena find her cat tonight and probably won’t make it home. Get some rest.” I didn’t reply. Instead, my eyes drifted to a new post on Instagram. It was from Serena. It was a photo of a dirty ginger cat snuggled in Ashton’s arms. Ashton’s expensive white designer shirt was covered in mud, but he didn’t seem to care. He was looking down, gently stroking the cat’s head. The caption read: “Even when the world goes dark, he is always my light. 🤍” Underneath, one of our mutual friends had commented: “Ashton is so sweet to you. Chloe really takes a backseat, huh?” Serena had replied with a playful emoji: “Oh, Chloe is way too mature to be petty about a cat! 😘” And Ashton had liked the post. I stared at that little red heart. The nurse came in with tweezers, preparing to pull the glass from my hand before the anesthesia was even administered. “Chloe, this is going to hurt. Squeeze my hand if you need to.” I nodded. The moment the glass was pulled out, blood gushed. The pain was so intense that my fingers clawed into the bedsheets, and my breath caught in my throat. But compared to the agony in my chest, this physical pain was absolutely nothing.

Twelve stitches. The doctor looked at my pale face and sighed. “The laceration is very deep. You cannot use your right hand for at least two weeks, or the stitches will rip. It could lead to permanent nerve damage.” “Thank you, Doctor,” I whispered. At 3:00 AM, the hospital corridor was dead quiet. I sat on the plastic bench, holding the prescription with my left hand, waiting for my meds. Suddenly, Carter appeared at the end of the hallway. He was holding a dripping black umbrella and Ashton’s favorite charcoal-grey wool coat. When he saw my heavily bandaged hand, his eyes widened in shock. “Chloe… you… you actually got into a car crash?” I looked up at him. “Did you think I was making it up for fun?” Carter swallowed hard, looking incredibly awkward. He offered me the coat. “Ashton… he was going to come himself. But Serena got a severe fever from the shock of losing her cat, and Ashton really couldn’t leave her side. So he sent me to check on you.” I didn’t take the coat. Mainly because I could smell the faint scent of orange blossom perfume on it. It was Serena’s favorite scent. “Take it back,” I said, my voice completely flat. “I’m not cold.” Carter stood there, fidgeting. “Chloe, please don’t be mad at Ashton. You know how it is… Serena saved his life back in college. He just feels a heavy sense of responsibility toward her…” Responsibility. I had heard that excuse for six years. Back in college, during a backpacking trip in the Rockies, they were caught in a sudden rockslide. Serena had pushed Ashton out of the way, getting her own leg crushed in the process. She was left with chronic pain and could no longer run or do heavy sports. Since then, Serena had become Ashton’s untouchable queen. Whatever she wanted, Ashton gave her. Even at Novis MedTech, the company Ashton and I had co-founded, Serena held a high-paying, do-nothing title just so everyone could cater to her whims. I used to think that if I was supportive enough, if we finally got married, Ashton would eventually realize who was actually standing by his side for the long haul. But I was wrong. I stood up and walked toward the pharmacy window. “Carter, tell Ashton I’ll see him at the launch tomorrow.” Carter let out a massive sigh of relief, thinking I was letting it go again, just like I always did. “Thank you for being so understanding, Chloe. Ashton said that as soon as the launch is over, he’s going to give you the most lavish wedding this city has ever seen.” I didn’t say anything. I took my meds and walked out into the freezing New York rain. A lavish wedding? No. I was only going to the launch to take back what was rightfully mine. The next morning, Ashton returned to the office. When he pushed open my door, I was struggling to edit our presentation slides with my left hand. The moment he saw my right arm in a sling, he froze. A flicker of genuine guilt flashed in his eyes. “Chloe… your hand…” He rushed over, reaching out to touch me, but hesitated. “Why is it so bad? Why didn’t you explain it to me last night?” I pulled my hand back, keeping my eyes fixed on the laptop screen. “I called you twenty-three times. Did you give me a single second to explain?” Ashton went rigid. He took a deep breath and placed a coffee cup on my desk. “I’m sorry. Serena’s fever spiked to 102 last night, and I panicked.” “Here, I got you your favorite latte. I drove all the way downtown to get it.” I looked at the cup. There was no condensation on it. It was lukewarm. The sticker on the cup read: Decaf oat milk latte, two pumps of vanilla. I let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Ashton, I don’t drink decaf lattes. I drink iced black Americanos.” “Sweetened decaf is Serena’s order.” Ashton’s face turned pale, then incredibly tense. He stared at the label, opened his mouth to explain, then sighed. “I… I must have ordered wrong. I’ve been so stressed about the launch. I’ll buy you another one.” “Don’t bother.” I swept the cup directly into the trash can. “We clearly have different tastes. Forcing it down will only make me sick.” Just like our relationship. It was time to stop forcing it. Ashton stared at the discarded cup in the trash, his eyes darkening. But he didn’t snap. Instead, he softened his voice. “Chloe, our engagement is in three days. It’s also the launch of Project Nova, the AI surgical robot we’ve spent three years developing. This is the most important week of our lives. Please don’t pick a fight right now, okay?” I looked up, staring straight into his eyes. “Okay. I won’t pick a fight.” Ashton let out a sigh of relief and reached out to pat my hair. “Good girl. I have a meeting to run. Let’s do lunch later.” He turned and left. I watched his retreating back, my eyes turning ice-cold. He had no idea that the file I was editing wasn’t just the presentation slides. It was the legal document to revoke Novis MedTech’s authorization to use the patent for Project Nova’s core algorithm—a patent registered solely under my name.

Ashton didn’t show up for lunch. Because Serena came to the office. She was wearing a flowing white sundress, looking incredibly pale and fragile as she pushed open Ashton’s office door. “Ashton… my head is spinning so bad. I don’t think my fever is completely gone…” I was walking over to get Ashton’s signature on some financial papers at the time. Through the glass wall, I saw Ashton immediately drop his tablet, rush over to the couch, and place a hand on her forehead. “Why aren’t you resting at home? Chloe and I have everything under control here.” Serena leaned into his chest, her eyes pooling with tears. “I just didn’t want Chloe to think I’m useless and getting paid for nothing… and I really wanted to help you guys pick out the party favors for the engagement gala.” Ashton sighed, his voice dripping with affection. “You worry too much. Chloe isn’t that petty.” Serena bit her lip, her eyes darting toward the hallway. She saw me. Then, she gasped softly. “Oh no, Ashton, my necklace is caught on your shirt button.” Ashton leaned down to untangle it. They were so close their breaths were practically mingling. From where I stood, it looked exactly like they were kissing. I didn’t knock. I didn’t interrupt. I just stood there, watching them for a quiet moment, and then turned back to my own office. That afternoon, the bridal boutique delivered my engagement dress to the office. It was a stunning, custom-made midnight-blue gown dusted with crystals, designed to look like the night sky. Ashton had picked it out himself. He once told me that blue was my color—deep, mysterious, and elegant. The stylist carefully helped me try it on, but when she saw my bandaged hand, her face fell. “Oh, Ms. Vance… this dress has tight, long sleeves. With your hand bandaged like this, it won’t fit. If we force it, it’s going to rip your stitches.” I stared at myself in the mirror. My makeup was flawless, but it couldn’t hide the dead, exhausted look in my eyes. “Then cut the sleeve off,” I said flatly. The stylist gasped. “Cut it? But this is a two-hundred-thousand-dollar custom gown…” “Cut the right sleeve,” I repeated. Just then, Ashton and Serena walked in. Ashton’s eyes lit up with momentary awe when he saw me in the dress. But when he heard me tell the stylist to cut it, his brows furrowed. “Chloe, the entire beauty of this dress is its symmetry. Cutting it ruins it. Just bear with it for a few hours. Once the ceremony is over, you can take it off.” I looked at him. “The doctor said any pressure on the wound will rip the stitches.” Ashton walked over and grabbed my left hand. “Chloe, there will be major tech investors and media outlets there. If you walk on stage with a ripped, asymmetrical dress, what will that say about Novis MedTech’s attention to detail? For the sake of the company, just deal with it.” For the sake of the company. For the sake of appearances. For the sake of his perfect night. But never once did he consider whether I would be in pain. Serena chimed in from behind him, her voice dripping with fake sweet concern. “Yeah, Chloe, Ashton spent so much time custom-ordering this dress for you. It would be such a shame to ruin it. Besides, the bandage is on the inside, nobody will even notice. You can do it for him, right?” I looked at Serena’s innocent, wide eyes and smiled. “Serena, since you think it’s no big deal, why don’t you wear it instead?” Serena flinched, waving her hands in panic. “Oh, Chloe, don’t play like that, it’s your engagement dress…” Ashton’s face completely darkened. “Chloe Vance, what is wrong with you lately? Serena is just trying to help, why do you have to be so toxic to her?” I ignored him, turning to the stylist. “Take it off. I’m not wearing it.” Ashton exhaled sharply, clearly trying to suppress his rage. “Fine. You don’t want to wear it? I’ll have them send a short-sleeved option. But you better make sure you look flawless on that stage in three days!” He grabbed Serena’s arm and turned to leave. “Let’s go, Serena. Don’t waste your breath on her.” The door slammed shut. The stylist trembling as she helped me unzip the dress. During the process, the heavy fabric dragged across the back of my hand. A sharp, white-hot pain flared up, and warm blood instantly soaked through the white bandages. I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears. Ashton, you always do this. In the name of love, you force me into the most painful compromises. But this is the absolute last time.

The day before the launch, we had a full-dress rehearsal. It was held at the Jacob Javits Center, the biggest convention venue in the city. Project Nova was our baby. If tomorrow went well, we would secure a $50 million Series A funding round, officially making Novis MedTech a unicorn company. I stood on the massive stage, clicking through the slides with my left hand, double-checking the flow. My right hand was throbbing with a dull, white-hot pain, but I had popped three painkillers to numb it. Ashton sat in the front row, frowning at his Rolex. “Chloe, this is going too slow. When is Serena’s segment?” I stopped and looked down at him cold. “Serena is literally just walking on stage to hand us a bouquet of flowers. What is there to rehearse?” Ashton stood up, his voice tight. “Her leg isn’t fully recovered, and those stage steps are steep. I’m not comfortable. Plus, I want to add a tribute video at the end of the presentation to thank everyone who supported us. Serena is going to be the main highlight.” I froze. “A tribute video? That’s not in the schedule. And for the past three years, the people who worked eighty-hour weeks in the lab writing code and debugging were me and the dev team. Serena did absolutely nothing but bring us Starbucks once a month. Why is she the highlight?” Ashton walked up the stage stairs, lowering his voice. “Chloe, don’t be so petty. Serena lost her ability to run because of me. I owe her this. Giving her some recognition on a stage like this will make her feel valued.” “Besides, you’re going to be my wife. You’re the co-founder of this company. Why are you jealous of a silly little highlight?” Always the same excuse. I let out a cold laugh. “What if I say no?” Ashton’s gaze turned freezing. “Chloe, I’m the CEO of this company. It’s already decided.” He turned to the tech booth and shouted, “Cue Serena’s video!” The massive LED screen behind me flickered, and the video started playing. It wasn’t a documentary of our engineering team’s sleepless nights. It was a compilation of Ashton and Serena. Ashton carrying Serena on his back during a hike. Serena feeding Ashton fruit in his office. Even a snapshot from two nights ago—Ashton holding the ginger cat, smiling warmly at Serena under a streetlamp. At the end of the video, text faded in: “To the one who never gave up on me. Thank you for being in my life.” The crew members in the venue looked at each other awkwardly. Everyone knew tomorrow was our engagement gala. Yet this video looked like a public love confession to another woman. A wave of intense nausea hit me. “Ashton, do you honestly think playing this at our engagement is appropriate?” Ashton looked slightly embarrassed, but he doubled down anyway. “This is just a rough cut. I’ll have them add some photos of you in there before tomorrow.” “Add me in? To make it look like a throuple?” I mocked openly. Ashton snapped. “Chloe Vance! Does everything out of your mouth have to be so venomous? Serena cried all night because of what you said yesterday. She was too scared to even show up to rehearsal today! What more do you want?” Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and picked up immediately. “Serena, what’s wrong?” Serena’s terrified scream pierced through the quiet venue. “Ashton, help me! I’m on the rooftop skywalk… my vertigo kicked in and my legs locked up. It’s so high… I’m so scared…” Ashton’s face went pale. “Don’t move! Close your eyes, I’m coming up right now!” He hung up and bolted toward the exit. I lunged forward and grabbed his arm. “Ashton! The lead investors are arriving in ten minutes to review the rehearsal. If you leave right now, what happens to the pitch?” Ashton violently shook my hand off. The force of his shove threw me off balance, sending me crashing to the floor. My right hand slammed hard against the wooden stage. Thud. An agonizing pain ripped through my arm, and my vision went black for a second. Blood immediately seeped through the bandage, pooling onto the stage. Ashton stood over me, his eyes devoid of any pity—only burning rage. “Chloe, the investors can wait. But if anything happens to Serena, I will never forgive you!” With that, he ran out of the hall without looking back. I lay on the cold stage, staring at the fresh blood on the floor, and suddenly burst into laughter. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. You’ll never forgive me? Ashton, you have it backward. I am the one who will never forgive you. The stage crew rushed over to help me up. “Ms. Vance, you’re bleeding really badly! We need to get you to an urgent care!” I used their support to stand up, then gently pushed them away. “No need.” I picked up the presentation clicker with my left hand, wiped my tears, and stood tall. “Tech booth, delete that garbage video. Restore the original slides.” “Everyone, back to your positions.” “We are continuing the rehearsal.” At that moment, I finally woke up. Depending on a man whose heart was never yours is a fool’s errand. You can only depend on yourself. AsAshton, since you love Serena so much. I’ll gladly let you have her.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “451321”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My parents raised me with extreme “tough love” since I was a kid. They always said that only in desperate situations can one learn to survive, and only through adversity can one make a comeback. So, in the freezing winters, I scavenged for recyclable cans to pay my rent, getting severe frostbite on my hands. In the summers, I walked miles to save a few dollars on bus fare, ending up with heatstroke. During school, I skipped meals to save money and ruined my stomach. But later, I saw my parents celebrating the birthday of the poor kid who bullied me at school. They held it at a five-star luxury hotel, gifting him a million-dollar luxury watch and a limited-edition supercar. My mother had a look of proud adoration on her face as she spoiled him: “Robert is the most brilliant boy in the world, unlike my own son, who is just fat and stupid.” “Robert, I wish you were my real son!” And on that very same day, which was also my birthday, my parents arrived home late. They brought me cold, ruined leftovers from the banquet and handed me a handwritten card as my birthday present.

Inside the magnificent five-star hotel. Robert, the guy who had been bullying me at school, spitting on me, and dumping trash over my head, was now surrounded by a crowd like a prince. He had a look of pure bliss on his face. “Thank you, Mom and Dad, for planning this amazing birthday party for me. I’m so lucky to have you guys.” Beside him, a woman dressed in a gorgeous designer gown looked at him with adoring eyes. “Robert, having you in our lives is our real blessing.” “You have no idea how fat and stupid my own son is. His grades are always at the bottom of the class.” “I’m too embarrassed to even admit he’s mine. Honestly, I wish you were my biological son.” Next to her, a dignified man in a custom three-piece suit patted Robert on the shoulder, his face full of pride. “Robert is indeed the best! He’s smart, and he looks so handsome.” “Study hard, Robert. Once you graduate, I’ll hand the management of my company over to you.” This wealthy, elite couple was none other than my biological parents. But just this morning, my parents had looked sallow and tired, wearing worn-out clothes from Goodwill. They had looked at me with helpless expressions, saying the family couldn’t afford the $500 fee for my SAT prep class, telling me to figure it out myself. Yet in the blink of an eye, they were gifting a million-dollar watch and a limited-edition sports car to the “underprivileged” student they sponsored. Meanwhile, their own flesh and blood was nothing but an embarrassment in their eyes. Staring at the Snapchat story on my phone screen, I felt a freezing chill run through my body. My chest tightened until it was hard to breathe. Earlier, when Mr. Davis mentioned that Robert was being sponsored by some wealthy philanthropists, I had been so envious. I thought about how struggling our family was. If only I could get sponsored too, it would take the burden off my parents, and I would finally have a quiet place to study. But I never imagined that the wealthy benefactors sponsoring my bully were my own biological parents… Tears streamed down my face. I suddenly remembered that today was my birthday, too. In the morning, my parents told me they had to work overtime tonight and would be home very late. I never expected their “overtime” was celebrating Robert’s birthday, while I, their real son, was completely forgotten. I dragged my exhausted body to the sofa and waited. It wasn’t until the clock ticked past 2:00 AM that my parents finally unlocked the front door. Their glamorous party outfits were gone. They had changed back into their faded, tattered clothes, and their faces wore the familiar masks of exhaustion. But the strong smell of expensive champagne on their breath was impossible to hide. Seeing me sitting on the sofa, my mother immediately put on a guilt-ridden face. “Ethan, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to miss your birthday.” “My boss kept me late for overtime. But look… I brought you something incredibly delicious!” She spoke like she was presenting a treasure, pulling two plastic takeout boxes from her bag. Inside was a smashed slice of gourmet cake and some cold seafood. I recognized them instantly. They were the leftovers from Robert’s birthday banquet. I suddenly remembered all those times Robert boasted on Snapchat about eating at high-end steakhouses, and how my parents would always happen to bring home “gourmet treats” for me later that night. It turned out that the “luxury meals” I cherished were just the scraps left behind by my bully. My throat tightened, and my eyes stung. I choked out, “No thanks, I’m not hungry.” My mother frowned in confusion. “Ethan, this is high-end food you’ve never even tasted before! Are you sure you don’t want any?” I couldn’t blame her for being confused. In the past, if I saw food like this, my eyes would have lit up, and I would have eagerly shared it with them. But now, I just shook my head. My mother’s face immediately fell into an expression of deep hurt. “Ethan, are you still blaming us for missing your birthday?” “We work ourselves to the bone every single day just to give you a better life!” She sounded so earnest, but it only made me want to laugh. To give me a better life? They clearly already had a luxurious life, but it wasn’t for me. It was for Robert. While their biological son couldn’t even afford a high school prep course. Seeing me smile, my parents assumed I had listened to their lecture and accepted their apology. They both let out a sigh of relief. Then, they mysteriously pulled a small gift box from their bag. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. You’re another year older.” My mom opened the box. Inside was a long, handwritten card. My dad cleared his throat and began to read aloud with dramatic emotion. “To Ethan: Remember what we always teach you. A man must be self-reliant. Only in desperate situations can you learn to survive, and only through adversity can you make your comeback…” Listening to his voice, and comparing it to how they treated Robert, I felt nothing but mockery. As they read the card, the pain in my chest became unbearable, and tears flowed freely down my cheeks. My parents took my tears as a sign of being deeply moved and wrapped me in a tight embrace.

That night, I cried for a very long time. Eventually, in my hazy state of mind, I tried to convince myself. My parents might treat Robert better than me, and they might have denied me material comforts, but I was still their biological son. They had to love me. Why else would they go through the trouble of hiding their wealth and putting on a show in front of me? In my heart, I decided to give them three chances. If they showed me even a sliver of genuine love, I would forgive their favoritism. The next morning, I gathered my courage and spoke to them during breakfast. “Mom, Dad, Mr. Davis said the SAT prep course starts next week. Everyone has to pay $500.” I had actually brought this up multiple times before. Because the fee was unpaid, Mr. Davis had been giving me the cold shoulder at school. But every time, my parents brushed me off with excuses, telling me to find a way myself. Sure enough, hearing this, my dad’s face sank into the same helpless, miserable expression from a few days ago. My mother sighed, looking incredibly troubled. “Ethan, we just don’t have that kind of money.” “Look at how bad the economy is right now. It’s hard enough just putting food on the table. Where would we find spare cash for some prep course?” “Exactly,” my dad chimed in. “Ethan, you’re practically an adult now. You need to understand how hard we have it. You’ll have to figure out this money on your own.” In the past, whenever I asked for money, I would feel overwhelmed with guilt, believing I was placing an unbearable burden on our struggling family. So, I would take on part-time washing jobs and collect cans to scrape together whatever I could. But now, looking at their fake, pathetic faces, I felt a wave of pure disgust. They didn’t hesitate for a second to buy Robert a luxury watch and a supercar, but they wouldn’t spare a single dime for my education. I couldn’t help but raise my voice. “I’m a high school student! I don’t even get an allowance! How am I supposed to ‘figure it out’?” They both froze, clearly shocked that their usually quiet, obedient son was suddenly snapping at them. My dad was the first to recover. “Ethan! How dare you speak to us like that? Is this how we raised you? Have you forgotten everything we taught you about self-reliance?” No, I hadn’t forgotten. They had been teaching me “self-reliance” since I could walk. When I was barely two years old, my dad wanted to make sure I learned to walk properly, so he left me at the bottom of our apartment stairs and made me climb up to the tenth floor by myself. I had cried and stumbled all the way up, my knees bleeding by the time I reached the door. When I was in middle school, they told me I couldn’t live and eat for free, forcing me to pay them $20 a week for “room and board.” To get that money, I scavenged for recyclable cans in freezing winters, getting severe frostbite on my hands that still scarred over every year. There were countless other instances. Before, I truly believed they did it to build my character. Now, it just felt like a sick joke. Robert didn’t have to lift a finger, yet he received all their love and a lavish lifestyle. No matter how hard I tried, I could never be good enough for them. Thinking of this, tears of sheer frustration welled up in my eyes. Why? I was their real child! Seeing my expression, my mother quickly changed her tone. “Ethan, we can give you the money. But you have to sign a promissory note.” A promissory note. An I.O.U. That was indeed something my parents would do. Since I wasn’t Robert, I didn’t deserve their unconditional support. But in the end, I agreed. I wanted to do well in the final stretch before the exams. I wanted to do it for my own future, and maybe, just maybe, to make them look at me with respect.

After bringing the money to school, I was cornered again in the alley behind the school by Robert and his gang. They shoved me around, pulled my hair, and spat on me. They grabbed my newly paid prep books and ripped them to shreds, scattering the pages in the dirt. Then, the sky opened up, and a heavy downpour began. Only then did they decide to leave me alone. “Hey, fat boy, I’ll let you off easy today. See you tomorrow,” Robert sneered. On his wrist was the million-dollar watch my parents bought him, and he wore designer sneakers worth thousands. He gave my head a cruel kick, then turned and walked away with a smug laugh. This time, I didn’t try to hide my bruises or clean myself up before going home to keep my parents from worrying. Instead, shivering in the cold rain, I curled up against the brick wall and called them, sobbing. “Mom, Dad… I got jumped at school. They beat me up really badly, and it hurts.” “It’s pouring rain, and I’m freezing and soaked. Can you please come pick me up?” “I’m in the alley behind the school gates.” My mother’s voice over the line sounded deeply annoyed. “Ethan, what kind of joke is this? Why would anyone just jump you for no reason?” “Did you provoke someone?” My dad’s voice echoed in the background. “Exactly. Why would they target you and not anyone else?” “How did we raise you? Don’t go looking for trouble. Do you think our family can afford to pay for any trouble you cause?” Listening to their barrage of accusations, my heart froze over completely. But I still tried to explain. “I didn’t provoke anyone. It was Robe—” My dad cut me off before I could finish the name. “Enough. We are very busy right now. Deal with it yourself.” “We can’t get involved in school drama. You’re a big boy now, Ethan. I’m sure you can handle it.” With that, he hung up. I was left alone in the alley, waiting. Eventually, I dragged myself and my ruined backpack out into the street. Just then, a sleek luxury SUV drove past. Through the rain-streaked window, I saw my parents sitting inside with Robert. They were laughing, looking incredibly happy and warm—a picture of family bliss I had never been allowed to share. By the time I stumbled back to our cramped apartment, it was late, and my parents weren’t home yet. Every bone in my body ached, and my head felt like it was on fire. I collapsed onto the living room sofa and fell into a feverish sleep. When I opened my eyes again, my vision was blurry, and my parents were standing over me, looking frantic. “Ethan! Oh my god, you have a terrible fever! Are you okay? Do you want some water?” My dad looked guilt-ridden. “It’s our fault, Ethan. We were so caught up in work that we couldn’t get to you in time, and you had to walk home in the rain. Don’t worry, I’m taking you to the ER right now.” He bent down to help me up when his phone suddenly rang. My dad glanced at the screen, immediately covered the microphone with his hand, and stepped aside, whispering, “Robert, what’s wrong?” A moment later, his voice spiked with panic. “What? The power went out at the villa? And you tripped and hurt your leg?” Realizing he had yelled, he quickly looked back at me. Seeing me flushed with fever and barely conscious, he let out a subtle sigh of relief. Then, he spoke into the phone, “Robert, don’t worry, buddy. We’re on our way right now.” After hanging up, he and my mom whispered frantically for a few seconds. Then, he came over and shook my shoulder. “Ethan, listen to me. Mom and Dad suddenly have an emergency at work. There’s fever medicine in the cabinet. Take some and get some sleep.” “If you don’t feel better tomorrow, we’ll take you to the clinic, okay?” my dad said, looking incredibly apologetic. They thought I was too delirious with fever to hear them, but I had heard every single word. My dad was worried about Robert. My mom was even more anxious. And so, I was left behind. After all, to them, a simple fever wouldn’t kill me.

Before they left, I mustered all my strength and grabbed my mother’s sleeve, trying to hold onto her one last time. But my mother’s mind was already at Robert’s villa. She hurriedly told me to rest, pulled her sleeve out of my grip, and ran out the door without looking back. The last spark of hope in my chest died. I felt a cold, dead weight settle in my heart. I didn’t see them again until two days later. They offered me a barrage of guilty apologies, but I only gave them flat, emotionless responses. The warmth and eagerness I used to have were completely gone. In the weeks that followed, I threw myself into preparing for the SATs. I stopped asking where they were going, and I stopped seeking their affection. My parents seemed deeply uncomfortable with my sudden distance. They assumed I was just throwing a tantrum over the fever incident, so they tried to buy my affection with cheap gifts and sweet words. One month before the exams, I was studying in the classroom during free period when Robert and a group of guys suddenly kicked the door open. One of his lackeys marched over and kicked my desk over, shouting at the top of his lungs. “You dirty thief! How dare you steal Robert’s watch? Do you have any idea that watch is worth a hundred grand?” The entire classroom turned to look at me. I was stunned and immediately defended myself. “I didn’t steal anything! I’ve been in this classroom the entire day!” Robert sneered. “Oh yeah? Let’s search your bag and find out.” Before I could stop him, a tall guy grabbed my backpack, unzipped it, and dumped everything onto the floor. To my horror, amid the scattered notebooks and prep sheets, a gleaming gold watch rolled out onto the linoleum floor. I froze, my mind going completely blank. How could Robert’s watch be in my bag? I went out of my way to avoid him every single day! And today, I had been studying at my desk the entire morning, except for a quick five-minute bathroom break… Wait. The bathroom break… I looked up at Robert. Sure enough, he was looking back at me with a victorious, mocking smirk. The whispers in the classroom started instantly. “Oh my god, is Ethan really that desperate? Stealing a watch at school?” “I bet he’s the one who stole my fifty bucks last month too!” Listening to the accusations piling up on me, a wave of hot fury rushed to my head. Robert had stolen my parents. He had stolen the life that should have been mine. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? Did he really have to destroy me completely to be satisfied? Looking at his smug face, I lost control. I lunged forward and slammed my fist right into his jaw, screaming, “I didn’t steal your damn watch! Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” Robert fell to the floor, but instead of getting angry, he laughed. He leaned close to my ear and whispered: “Why? Because I can’t stand the sight of you. Did you really think your parents loved you?” “Did you actually believe that ‘tough love’ crap was to make you better?” Before I knew about Robert’s existence, I really had believed that. But now… “Let me tell you the truth. They treat you like garbage because you’re fat, ugly, and dumb. Having a son like you is their biggest embarrassment.” “Want to see who they’ll choose between you and me?” Ten minutes later, both Robert and I were sitting in the principal’s office. When the principal called my parents and told them I had stolen a watch and assaulted a student, they coldly told the school to “discipline me as they saw fit” and hung up. But a minute later, when Robert’s homeroom teacher called them, stating that Robert had been injured in an altercation, my parents’ voices erupted with panic and fury. They said they would be there in five minutes. Even though I knew they wouldn’t side with me, a tiny, foolish part of my heart still hoped. Maybe, just this once, they would believe me… but I was destined to be disappointed. The moment my parents burst into the office and saw both of us, their faces paled. Without a single glance at me, they rushed straight to Robert’s side. After listening to the principal’s explanation of the “theft,” my parents turned to me, their faces cold as ice, and demanded I apologize to Robert. I clenched my fists. “I didn’t steal anything. I will not apologize.” But nobody believed me.

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Five years into my relationship with Ethan Vance, I accompanied him and his childhood friend, Chloe Brooks, on an adventure trip to the barren canyons of Utah. When a sudden flash flood hit, Ethan tied the only life-saving rope around Chloe, leaving me behind in the raging, muddy torrents. “Chloe has severe claustrophobia, Summer. I have to pull her up first! Just hold on to the rock and don’t move!” I soaked in the freezing, bone-chilling floodwaters for five agonizing hours, nearly dying in the middle of nowhere. Yet, all I got from him later was a text: “Chloe is severely traumatized. Find your own way back with the rescue team.” I simply threw the engagement ring he gave me into the desert sands, turned around, and left without looking back. The wind in the Utah Canyon carried coarse sand, scraping against my face like a sharp blade. This was the fifth year of my relationship with Ethan. This trip was originally planned as our pre-wedding photoshoot. But there was an extra person on this trip—his childhood best friend, Chloe. The disaster struck without warning. The once-clear sky suddenly darkened, and a massive storm upstream triggered a rare, violent flash flood. The muddy water, carrying broken branches and sharp rocks, roared through the narrow canyon like a wild beast. The water level rose rapidly, swallowing our calves in just a few minutes. “Ethan! I’m scared!” Chloe shrieked, clutching Ethan’s arm tightly. Her face was as pale as paper, her whole body trembling. We were trapped on a slightly elevated rocky ledge, but it was too low. The floodwaters would soon submerge it. The rescue team above threw down a single rescue rope. But because of the wind and the tricky terrain, they could only pull one person up at a time. Without a second thought, Ethan grabbed the thick rope and quickly, expertly tied it around Chloe’s waist. “Ethan…” I stood in the knee-deep mud, struggling to stay upright against the strong current. I instinctively reached out and grabbed his jacket. He turned his head. There was panic in his eyes, but more than that, there was a cold, absolute decision. “Summer, Chloe has severe claustrophobia. The canyon is too narrow and dark; she’s going to have a panic attack. I need to get her up first.” “But the current is getting stronger, and I don’t know how to swim…” My voice was drowned out by the roaring flood, sounding weak and desperate. Ethan forcefully pried my fingers off his jacket and pressed my hand onto a sharp, protruding rock beside us. “Hold on tight to this rock. Don’t move. The rescue team will throw a second rope down soon. You’ve always been the strong one. Just wait for me, okay?” With that, he wrapped his arms around Chloe and shouted to the top: “Pull!” I watched helplessly as he shielded Chloe, slowly rising out of the dangerous muddy pit under the pull of the rescue team. In mid-air, Chloe turned her head and looked down at me. There was no fear in her eyes. Only a smug, barely perceptible smirk. The second rope never came down. Another wave of flood crested from upstream. A massive wall of water slammed against the rock, sweeping me entirely into the freezing mud. “Help…” Mud and sand rushed into my nose and mouth. The suffocating darkness instantly consumed me. I struggled desperately in the water, my fingernails clawing into the cracks of the rock until they bled, just to keep myself from being swept away. Those five hours were a living hell. The freezing water drained the last bit of warmth from my body. My consciousness began to fade, and my life with Ethan over the past five years flashed before my eyes. I thought that after surviving the hard early days of starting his business and spending countless nights supporting him, I would finally become Mrs. Vance. As it turned out, in a matter of life and death, I was just an option that could be discarded at any time. In the end, a local cowboy passing by spotted me half-dead. He used his lasso to drag me back from the grip of death. I didn’t even know how I managed to get back to the desert lodge. My body was covered in cuts and bruises, my clothes soaked in mud. The cold wind made my teeth chatter violently. I pushed open the door of our lodge room. The heater was running high, filling the room with warmth. Ethan was sitting by the bed, holding a warm mug of chamomile tea. He was gently blowing on it before feeding it to Chloe. Chloe had changed into a clean, soft bathrobe, leaning against the pillows with red, teary eyes. Hearing the door open, Ethan looked up. The moment he saw me, his brows furrowed in annoyance. “Why do you look like a total mess? Didn’t I tell you to come back with the rescue team?” There was no relief in his voice. Only blame. I stared at him, my throat so dry I couldn’t make a sound. Chloe shrank back slightly, her voice sweet and innocent. “Summer, please don’t be mad at Ethan. I was so terrified, I couldn’t let go of him. That’s why he couldn’t go back for you. You’re soaking wet, you should go take a hot shower.” I dragged my stiff legs into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. But the water running from the shower head was ice-cold. As it turned out, the hot water supply at this remote lodge was limited. The only tank of hot water had already been used by Ethan to fill the bathtub for Chloe. I slid down against the cold tiles, water dripping down my face. I couldn’t tell if it was the shower water or my tears. Five years. Even if you raise a dog for five years, you develop feelings, don’t you? I dried myself, changed into clean clothes, and pulled out my phone. Silently, I canceled the round-trip flight I had booked for the two of us and booked a single ticket back to Los Angeles for tomorrow morning. This time, I was done waiting.

The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache. The freezing floodwaters from yesterday had given me a high fever. Every bone in my body felt like it had been crushed and put back together. It was excruciating. Just as I struggled to sit up and pack my bags, the door pushed open. Ethan walked in, wearing a sleek windbreaker, holding two pairs of sand goggles. “Summer, get up and pack. We’re going off-roading in the sand dunes today.” I leaned weakly against the headboard, my voice raspy. “I have a fever, Ethan. I can’t go. I want to go home.” Ethan walked over and touched my forehead. His frown deepened. “You do feel a bit warm. But Chloe has been looking forward to this off-road trip for months. She’s too scared to go alone. Just push through it. The SUV has air conditioning. It won’t be that bad.” I looked at his dismissive face, a cold laugh bubbling in my chest. “Ethan, I almost died in that flood yesterday. I am sick.” “Stop talking about dying all the time. Aren’t you standing here perfectly fine?” His tone carried a hint of impatience. “Yesterday was my bad, I admit it. But like I said, Chloe’s situation was special. We finally got some time off. Can’t you just be a little more mature and stop ruining the mood for everyone?” “Mature?” I whispered. So, when it came to choosing between my actual life and Chloe’s entertainment, choosing to survive made me “immature.” From outside, Chloe’s cheerful voice called out, “Ethan! Is Summer ready? The guide said the sandstorm will pick up if we wait any longer!” Ethan shoved the goggles into my hands and practically dragged me out of bed. “Alright, stop throwing a tantrum. I’ll get you some ibuprofen after lunch.” The SUV sped over the rolling sand dunes. Chloe sat in the passenger seat, squealing with excitement. Ethan kept one hand on the steering wheel, occasionally looking over to gently remind her to hold on tight. Meanwhile, I was tossed around like a ragdoll in the bumpy backseat. The window wasn’t fully closed. Dust swirled in through the gap, making me cough violently. Every bump made my stomach churn and my head throb. “Ethan, look at that dune! It’s so high!” Chloe pointed ahead. Ethan stepped on the gas. The car flew into the air and slammed heavily back down. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I covered my mouth and dry-heaved. Ethan glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his voice filled with annoyance. “Summer, if you really didn’t want to come, you could have just stayed. There’s no need to show your attitude in front of Chloe. She was traumatized yesterday, and she’s finally having some fun today.” I closed my eyes, too exhausted to even argue. At noon, the car stopped in front of a roadside diner in the middle of the desert. Chloe took the menu and ordered a table full of greasy, heavy diner food, including a plate of spicy buffalo wings dripping with hot sauce. “Summer, their wings are famous. Have some,” she said with a sweet smile, placing a spicy wing onto my plate. Looking at the red hot sauce, my stomach clenched. I had a high fever and a severe stomach ulcer. Ethan knew this. Back when we were happy, he never allowed a single drop of hot sauce on the table if I was around. “I can’t eat spicy food,” I said, pushing the plate away. “Can I just get a plain oatmeal or some toast?” Before Ethan could speak, Chloe lowered her head, looking incredibly hurt. “I’m so sorry, Summer. I forgot your stomach is sensitive. But… this diner only serves these fast foods. They don’t have oatmeal. If you really hate it, maybe Ethan can drive you to another place?” The nearest town was thirty miles away. Ethan’s face darkened completely. He slammed his fork onto the table. “Summer, enough! You’ve been acting passive-aggressive since yesterday. Chloe was just trying to be nice, and you’re throwing a fit? We’re in the desert. Stop being so high-maintenance!” I looked up, staring straight into his eyes. “Ethan, I have a stomach ulcer and a fever. You’re forcing me to eat spicy food. Do you want me to end up in the emergency room?” “Don’t exaggerate!” He stood up abruptly, grabbing Chloe’s hand. “Since you’re so miserable here, stay by yourself. Chloe, let’s go eat some energy bars in the car. We don’t want to ruin her appetite.” Chloe let him drag her out, turning back to look at me with a face full of innocent triumph. “Ethan, is it really okay to leave Summer here alone…?” “Don’t worry about her. I’ve spoiled her too much. She needs to cool down and get a grip!” With a loud slam of the car door, the SUV kicked up a cloud of dust and sped away. I stared at the plate of greasy wings, and suddenly, I laughed. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. Since he had abandoned me again and again, I didn’t need to treat him as my home anymore.

Thanks to the kind-hearted diner owner, I managed to hitch a ride on a supply pickup truck and made it back to the lodge by sunset. By the time I reached my room, my fever had spiked to 103 degrees. My body felt like it was on fire. Even breathing felt like inhaling hot needles. Ethan pushed the door open, walking in from the outside. Seeing me curled up under the blanket, shivering violently, his expression finally changed. He rushed over, touching my forehead, and quickly pulled his hand back as if he’d been shocked. “How is your fever this high? Why didn’t you call me!” I weakly opened my eyes, looking at his panicked face. It felt incredibly pathetic. “Call you? So I could listen to you call me high-maintenance again?” A flash of guilt crossed his eyes. He hurriedly searched his duffel bag for medicine, pouring a glass of warm water and holding it to my lips. “I’m sorry, Summer. I was out of line this afternoon. I thought you were just playing difficult. Take the medicine first. I won’t go anywhere tonight. I’ll stay right here with you.” I looked at the water and finally swallowed the pills. Because I needed my strength. Tomorrow morning, I had a flight to catch. Right then, the door was pushed open. Chloe stood there, wearing a beautiful bohemian dress, perfect makeup, and holding a glow stick. “Ethan! The guide said there’s a meteor shower deep in the dunes tonight, and a bonfire party! Everyone is waiting for us!” Seeing Ethan sitting by my bed, her smile stiffened for a fraction of a second before turning into a look of deep concern. “Oh my gosh, is Summer really that sick? Then… Ethan, you should stay here with her. I’ll just go by myself. Even though the dark desert is super scary, I’ll try my best to be brave.” Ethan froze. He looked at me, then at Chloe, who stood at the door looking fragile and helpless. “Chloe, going into the desert alone at night is too dangerous. I’m not comfortable with that.” “It’s fine. I’ll just stay close to the guide,” Chloe bit her lip, looking like a brave martyr. Ethan stood up, tucking my blanket in. “Summer, sleep after taking the meds. I’ll just drop Chloe off and make sure she’s safe, then I’ll come right back. Thirty minutes max.” I looked at him, my voice so calm it surprised even myself. “Ethan, if you step out of this room tonight, we are over.” He paused, turning around with a flicker of anger in his eyes. “Summer, can you stop being so unreasonable? What if Chloe gets lost in the desert? You’re lying in a warm room with a heater and water. What danger could you possibly be in? I said I’ll be back in thirty minutes!” With that, he walked out without looking back. The door slammed shut. The room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. I didn’t cry. I just stared quietly at the ceiling. As the medicine kicked in, I drifted into a heavy, feverish sleep. When I woke up in the middle of the night, the room was still empty. I picked up my phone. There were no messages from Ethan. I opened Instagram. The very first post on my feed was an update from Chloe, posted ten minutes ago. In the video, a huge bonfire was crackling. Ethan and Chloe were wearing local flower crowns, holding hands, dancing around the fire to the music. Ethan had a bright, brilliant smile on his face—a relaxed, happy expression I hadn’t seen on him in years. The caption read: [Brilliant stars, endless desert, and the best view is right next to me. ✨❤️] In the comments, a mutual friend wrote: [Omg, Ethan and Chloe look like the perfect couple!] Ethan didn’t deny it. Instead, he had liked the comment. Looking at his casual betrayal, I finally realized that some love is rotten to the core. The next morning, just as the sky was turning gray. My fever had gone down a bit. My body was still weak, but it was enough to get me out of here.

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My older sister, Kate, vanished into thin air late at night just to buy me a birthday cake. Ever since, on my birthday, my dad would lock me in the dark basement, forcing me to gorge on cake until I threw up. And then make me keep eating. All because they were convinced I was the one who killed Kate. Until my eighteenth birthday, when a psycho stalked me. With shaking hands, I texted them on SnapChat, begging for help. Dad’s voice was dripping with venom and sarcasm when he answered: “Today is your day of atonement. Get your ass back here right now!” “A young girl using such a cheap lie to get attention. Remember, Kate’s body was never found because of you!” The call went dead. A second later, a heavy iron pipe slammed into the back of my skull. Within less than an hour, I was tortured to death, my body mutilated beyond recognition before being dumped into the local reservoir. And when my detective dad arrived at the crime scene, he didn’t even recognize my corpse. Later, Kate returned home, very much alive and heavily pregnant. When they finally realized that the rotting, mutilated corpse was actually me, they completely broke down.

By the time James rushed to the body dump site in his yellow raincoat, the forensics team had already laid me on the wet ground. The winter rain was pouring down, accompanied by a freezing wind. Deputies and K9 units were combing through every inch of the area, searching for any trace of the killer. The medical examiner walked over to James, his face pale with rage. “The victim has over a hundred wounds, mostly blanched from the water. But it’s clear she was a young woman, and she was brutally tortured before she died.” James followed his gaze. A flicker of disgust and pity crossed his face. “Bastard… absolute animal! If I catch the sick freak who did this, I’m going to make him pay!” For the first time in ten years, I felt a spark of my father’s pity. Even if it was as a cold, dead body. The coroner nodded grimly, promising to do everything to find the killer. My body was carefully transported to the morgue. James stayed for the autopsy, watching as they cleaned the mud off my face. The bloated, naked body of a young girl lay on the cold steel table. She was completely unrecognizable, her ears sliced off, and her fingernails ripped out. Even the veteran medical examiner had to choke back a gag, muttering, “This killer is a psychopath. He wanted to erase her identity completely.” James rubbed his tired face, reviewing the details. “The skin on her face was extensively mutilated, making visual ID impossible. Judging by dental wear, she’s between sixteen and twenty.” “Her ears were cut off, likely to hide a birthmark or surgical scars that could identify her.” “The killer was incredibly cautious—even her fingernails are gone.” “There’s no DNA on the body. The reservoir probably wasn’t the primary crime scene. We need more clues.” The coroner sighed and patted James’s shoulder. “We’ll run DNA to identify her as soon as possible.” “She looks about the same age as your daughter. It’s a tragedy.” Then, remembering something, the coroner looked apologetic. “James, I know you’ve been working overtime for a month straight.” “Today is Kylie’s birthday. You finally got a night off to spend with your family, and we had to drag you out here. I’m sorry.” At the mention of my name, James’s face hardened with instant disgust. “She doesn’t deserve a birthday.” “If I could trade her life for Kate’s, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” Silence fell over the room. No one dared to breathe. Those words cut deeper and left me more hopeless than the cold blade the killer used to carve up my face. I used to think that ten years of emotional abuse, silent treatment, and constant degradation would slowly chip away at James’s hatred. But I was foolishly dreaming. The coroner pursed his lips. “James, it’s been ten years. Kylie was only eight back then. She didn’t know any better. How can you still blame her?” “She’s your only child now!” James’s eyes burned red with fury. “How can I not blame her?! If she hadn’t thrown a tantrum for that damn cake, would Kate have ever gone out that night?!” I had heard that accusation a thousand times over the past decade. It was carved into my very soul. But every time he brought it up, James was still as hysterical and broken as the first day. At night, I still had nightmares of James dragging me by my hair to Kate’s empty-casket memorial headstone. He would smash my head against the stone until I bled, forcing me to scream that I was sorry, that I shouldn’t have asked for that cake. Sometimes I wished I had died on my eighth birthday instead. Then, I wouldn’t have had to carry the weight of a murderer on my shoulders, growing up alone in this twisted, broken home. The coroner took a deep breath. “James, I get your anger. But if something actually happens to Kylie, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” I hovered near James, hoping, begging for just one soft word. “Regret? Bullshit. The day she dies, I’m opening a bottle of champagne.” The tiny spark of hope in my chest died completely. James, I am dead. Once you find out, will you finally stop hating me? Just then, an officer walked in with an evidence bag containing a blood-soaked scarf. The faded fabric was embroidered with tiny yellow stars, now drenched in dark, crusty blood. James barely glanced at it before waving his assistant over. “It’s just a generic item with no unique identifiers. Send it to the lab to see if the blood matches the victim.” My eyes widened, and my heart shattered into a million pieces. He forgot. He completely forgot that this was the gift he gave me on my first day of elementary school. Back then, James was so busy with work that his marriage with Sarah fell apart. Sarah found a new lover and abandoned both Kate and me to James. Because I had been deprived of oxygen in the womb during a difficult birth, I developed much slower than other kids. In elementary school, I still drooled when I got nervous, and the other kids made fun of me. Growing up without a mother made me terribly insecure. I was terrified of going to school alone. Since James had no money to spare for my therapy while raising two kids, he hand-sewed this scarf for me, stitching a bunch of little stars onto the fabric. Back then, James would kiss my cheek and whisper softly: “Kylie, this is your special handkerchief. Just use it to wipe your mouth whenever you feel nervous.” “It’s okay. If anyone laughs at you, tell me.” “This has my scent on it. Whenever you’re scared of being alone, just smell it. Think of it as me being right next to you.” “I’m a cop, Kylie. I will protect you forever.” Now, the man who gave me that warm promise had completely forgotten it, calling it a “generic item.” Oh, James… you just missed your only chance to recognize your own daughter.

Once the paperwork was done, James finally checked his phone. He saw my SnapChat texts begging for help. His investigator instincts kicked in, and he dialed Sarah. For a second, I thought they had finally realized something was wrong. But the moment James spoke, my hopes crashed. “Did Kylie call you crying again?” “She went as far as sending me fake texts claiming some freak was stalking her on her way home. Is she really trying to copy what happened to Kate?!” I didn’t lie, James! I was in real danger! The body you just pitied on the autopsy table… that’s me! Please, believe me just once! His brow was furrowed in deep annoyance. I hoped Sarah would show some concern. After all, ever since Kate disappeared ten years ago, I had never dared to reach out to them. But Sarah’s voice over the speaker was cold and dismissive. “She’s been a pathological liar since she was a toddler, don’t you know that?” “Remember when she faked stomach aches just to skip preschool? I gave you custody. She’s your kid, don’t bring her drama to me.” “Last time she showed up at my house with some cheap Mother’s Day gift, it made things so awkward. My husband was right next to me!” Because of the difficult labor, Sarah had resented me from the moment I was born. After Kate’s disappearance, that resentment became fully justified in her eyes. I listened to them take turns listing all my flaws, until James cursed, “She was born to be a curse on this family!” In the end, neither of them wondered if leaving me out in the dark would lead to any danger. I curled up in the corner of the room, my soul aching with a hollow pain. My death didn’t matter to anyone. “I need to file a report!” A familiar voice echoed from the lobby. “My friend Kylie has been missing since last night! Something terrible must have happened to her!” In front of the front desk, my only friend, Chloe, was frantically explaining the situation to the officer. She said I had stopped replying to her Snapchats and missed our plans to hang out. Looking at how panicked she was, my heart squeezed with painful gratitude. How I wished I could tell her not to cry, but I could only stand beside her as a ghost, weeping silently. Thank you for caring about me, Chloe. When the officer asked if she had contacted the family, James walked into the lobby, looking down at Chloe with cold eyes. “No need to waste your time. I’m Kylie’s father.” “She isn’t missing. She committed a family offense and is currently grounded in the basement.” “And I don’t appreciate her running around with delinquent kids like you.” He dragged out the word ‘delinquent’. I watched Chloe’s face turn pale, her fingers nervously clutching the hem of her worn-out jacket. But Chloe wasn’t a delinquent. When James forgot to give me lunch money, she would steal bread from her own kitchen to feed me. When she found out I was using toilet paper because I couldn’t afford pads, she used her babysitting money to buy them for me. Others looked down on her because she was poor, but she was my savior. Since James was the Homicide Captain, no officer dared to question his words. My disappearance was swept under the rug simply because a parent claimed I was “grounded.” I watched Chloe leave, feeling utterly helpless. I wanted to follow her. But my soul was tethered to James, dragged along as he drove home. A thin layer of dust covered the dining table. The decorative flowers had long withered. James brought in takeout boxes and lined them up. A year after Kate vanished, on this very day, I had mistakenly thought these lavish takeout meals were for my birthday. While James was in the restroom, I couldn’t resist sneaking a bite of my favorite seafood pasta. But James caught me. He marched over, his face twisted in rage, and choked me against the wall. “Why are you so greedy?! Is this for you? A leech like you doesn’t deserve this!” My face turned purple as I gasped for air. “I’m sorry… I thought it was for my birthday. I’ll spit it out… I’ll spit it out right now…” A sharp piece of seafood shell got stuck in my throat. I swallowed hard, tears streaming down my face. When I was on the verge of passing out, James finally let go, pointing at me and snarling, “You like eating so much? I’ll make sure you eat till you die!” Under his murderous gaze, I was forced to stuff three eight-inch cream cakes down my throat until I vomited all over the floor.

I lay shivering on the floor, weak and exhausted. James grabbed my hair, dragging me to the bathroom. “Kylie, you listen to me. It’s because of your greedy stomach, because you demanded that stupid birthday cake, that Kate is gone!” “Don’t play victim with me. Grab the mop and clean this up!” James, I wasn’t playing victim. I was hurting. My throat, my stomach, my entire heart… everything was in agonizing pain. I wiped my tears and dragged the mop across the floor. I forced myself to keep moving, watching James place the delicious food in Kate’s untouched room, whispering to her empty bed: “Kate, Kylie is such a disappointment. I should have never spoiled her. I used to yell at you for eating junk food, but look, I bought all your favorites today. If you want anything else, just tell me in my dreams. I miss you so much.” I couldn’t bear to hear any more. I shrank back into the bathroom, trying to suppress my sobs. The laughter of other families downstairs drifted through the window. I pressed my face against the small window glass, trying to hear it clearly, pretending I was the girl in those stories, enjoying the perfect family warmth. But I was the curse who killed Kate. No miracles would ever happen to me. But James, tell me what I have to do for you to forgive me. I promise I’ll be good… The next morning, I woke up with a burning fever. At nine years old, I had no money and didn’t know how to go to the hospital. Terrified, I took some cash from James’s nightstand and stumbled to the nearest pharmacy. The pharmacist took one look at my flushed face and burning forehead and immediately carried me to the community clinic for an IV drip. They asked for my father’s number. As the needle pierced my skin, I foolishly thought, This time, James won’t say I’m faking it, right? Sure enough, James rushed in, clutching his briefcase. Hope flared in my chest. I called out sweetly, “Dad!” I secretly thought, If he just pat my head, or gently blow on the needle mark, I would forgive him for everything. But what James gave me was a harsh slap across the face. “You thief! You actually stole my money! You got scared of being caught, so you faked an illness, didn’t you?” “I’m a police officer, and I raised a thief!” The IV needle was ripped out of my vein. I curled up, crying hysterically, begging him to believe me. Hearing that James was a cop, the nurses and onlookers stopped defending me. Their sympathetic looks turned into disgust and disapproval. Parents nearby whispered to their kids, telling them never to end up like me. I didn’t steal that money to be bad. I wasn’t a thief. I was just a sick child who wanted to live. But until the day I died, I never became a child worthy of love. I watched James fill Kate’s empty bowl with food, and silently pack her closet with the latest fashion trends. This haunting routine had repeated every single day for ten years. I was lost in these painful memories when a knock on the front door snapped me back. A voice from the past echoed through the hallway. “James! Open up! I’m back, and I brought your grandbaby!” I watched James, always so stoic and calm, trip over his own dining chair as he scrambled to his feet. He stumbled to the door, his hand trembling on the doorknob for a long time before finally twisting it open. The door swung wide, revealing the woman standing outside. It was Kate—the sister I supposedly “killed” ten years ago.

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Seven years of marriage. To repay a so-called debt, Devon trampled my daughter’s and my dignity into the dirt. His savior’s son wanted to see fireworks, so Devon abandoned our daughter during the piano finals she had practiced a year for. His savior’s son wanted a trophy, so Devon personally smashed the wooden music box our daughter had stayed up all night carving. He always said, “Iris is a widow, and Leo has no father. They are so pitiful. Lily has us. Why can’t she just let him have his way for once?” “Devon, you owe Julian your life. If you want to pay him back, use your own life! Stop sacrificing my daughter’s happiness to pay your debts!” It wasn’t until my daughter’s hands were covered in blood and she smashed that grand piano in despair that I finally threw the divorce papers in his face. From then on, he could pay his debts all he wanted. I was going to live my own life. The City Symphony Hall was lit as bright as day. The auditorium was packed. The applause was deafening. Seven-year-old Lily was wearing the white swan dress Devon had picked out for her. Standing beside the massive Steinway grand piano, her tiny hands gripped her skirt so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “Next, let’s welcome Lily and her father, Devon, for their four-hands piano performance of ‘The Starry Night’!” The announcer’s voice echoed through the vast hall. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. The heavy red velvet curtain at the edge of the stage remained closed. No one came out. Lily stood there under the glaring spotlight like an abandoned doll, enduring the stares, whispers, and confusion of thousands of people. I sat in the front row, clutching my phone. The screen showed forty-two unanswered calls. “The mailbox of the number you are calling is full…” The cold, robotic voice of the operator felt like a rusty knife sawing slowly at my heart. Six months ago, Lily had practiced until her fingers blistered just to get into this national youth piano final. Devon had held her gently, kissing her forehead, and swearing he would be there to help her win the championship. “Daddy is your biggest supporter, Lily. You will definitely be the brightest little princess on that stage.” His promise was still ringing in my ears. But now, where was he? Lily’s eyes welled with tears, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall. She looked at me and mouthed silently, “Mommy, where is Daddy?” My heart squeezed so hard I could barely breathe. I stood up, wanting to run onto the stage and pull my daughter into my arms. But suddenly, Lily turned around and walked toward that massive piano alone. She climbed onto the piano bench, took a deep breath, and placed her trembling hands on the keys. There were no deep bass chords from her father. No warm hand to guide her. Alone, she played a fragmented version of “The Starry Night.” The high notes echoed through the hall, thin, fragile, and trembling—just like Lily. My tears finally broke free. Right then, my phone screen lit up. It wasn’t a call from Devon, but a notification from Snapchat. Sender: Iris. Attached was a picture taken at an amusement park. Devon was wearing a custom suit, but he had thrown all professionalism out the window. He was carrying a six-year-old boy on his shoulders. The two of them were pointing at the fireworks in the night sky, laughing joyfully. Iris’s caption read: “Thank you, Devon. When Leo was crying for his dad, you canceled all your work meetings just to watch the fireworks with him. Leo said today he finally feels like he has a dad.” Boom. The last string of sanity in my brain snapped completely. Canceled all his work meetings. So, the national final my daughter had spent six months preparing for—something she cherished like life itself—was just a “work meeting” he could cancel at any moment for Iris and her son. On stage, Lily missed the very last note. The sharp, jarring sound of the mistake stung everyone’s ears. She didn’t bow. Instead, she stumbled off the stage, threw herself into my arms, bit my shoulder, and sobbed uncontrollably. “Mommy, Daddy lied… Daddy doesn’t want Lily anymore…” I held her tight, my eyes locked on Devon’s smiling face on the phone screen. My nails dug so deep into my palms that they drew blood. “Shh, Lily. Don’t cry,” I whispered, stroking her sweat-soaked hair. My voice was as cold as ice. “He doesn’t want you, and Mommy doesn’t want him either.”

At eleven o’clock that night, the front door clicked open. Devon walked in, bringing with him the cold night air and the faint scent of jasmine perfume. That was Iris’s favorite perfume. The living room was dark. I sat on the sofa, watching him quietly change his shoes and take off his blazer. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” He flicked on the wall light. Seeing me, he froze for a second, then rubbed his temples with a sigh of exhaustion. “Is Lily asleep? How did the competition go? Did she win first place?” He didn’t even know if she had finished her performance. I stared at him coldly, remaining silent. Devon walked over, reaching out to hug me, but I stepped aside. His hand froze in midair, his brow furrowing. “Chloe, what is it now? I had an emergency at the office today. I really couldn’t get away. Tomorrow, I promise I’ll throw Lily a huge celebration party, okay?” “An office emergency?” I laughed in pure rage and threw my phone right at his chest. “Devon, since when did your company relocate to Disney World?!” The phone fell onto the plush carpet, its screen still glowing with Iris’s Snapchat story. Devon’s face turned pale instantly. He glanced at the screen, panic flitting across his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by an air of self-righteous exasperation. “Chloe, let me explain. I was on my way to the theater. But then Iris called me, crying. She said Leo was being bullied at school for not having a dad. He was so devastated he tried to climb onto the school roof.” “What was I supposed to do? That’s a child’s life! Julian died saving me! If I ignored Leo, would I even be human?” Julian again. That life-saving debt again. Three years ago, when Devon was inspecting a construction site, the scaffolding collapsed. It was the foreman, Julian, who pushed Devon out of the way. Julian was crushed by the steel beams and died on the spot. Devon’s life was saved, but his soul had been kneeling before Julian’s widow, Iris, and her son, Leo, ever since. “If he wanted to jump, you call 911! You call a therapist!” I stood up, pointing at him, my voice cracking with emotion. “But what did you do? You went to watch fireworks with him! You went to play daddy!” “Devon, did you forget today was the most important day of your own daughter’s life? While she was standing alone on that stage, being laughed at by thousands of people, you were smiling at another man’s son!” Devon’s expression darkened, and his tone became harsh. “Chloe, can you stop being so unreasonable? Lily only missed a silly competition, but Leo lost his actual father!” “Lily has everything. She has us, she has a rich life. What’s wrong with her letting Leo have this one thing? As an adult, can’t you be more generous?” Let him have this. These words had been a curse on our heads for three years. Lily’s birthday presents? Leo liked them, so she had to let him have them. Lily’s playroom? Leo wanted to sleep there when he visited, so she had to let him have it. And now, even the fatherly love Lily had craved for six months had to be given away. Looking at the man I had loved for seven years, I felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. “Devon,” I said, breathing deeply to keep down the metallic taste of blood in my throat. “You owe Julian. You can pay him back with your money, or even your life. But you have no right to use my daughter’s dignity and tears to pay for your guilt.” I turned to walk upstairs, leaving him with one final sentence. “Tomorrow, my lawyer will deliver the divorce papers to your office.” Devon was stunned. He quickly chased after me, grabbing my wrist, laughing in disbelief. “Chloe, have you lost your mind? Just because I missed one competition, you want a divorce? Do you think marriage is a joke?!” “Let go of me,” I said coldly. “No! You’re just jealous and throwing a tantrum! Calm down. Tomorrow I’ll bring Iris and Leo over to apologize to Lily, and we can put this behind us.” He actually wanted to bring that woman and her brat into our house. With all my strength, I flung his hand off and slapped him across the face. Slap! The entire living room went dead silent. Devon touched his cheek, staring at me in complete shock. “Devon, you make me sick.”

The next morning, while I was packing Lily’s bags, the doorbell rang. I walked to the stairs and saw Devon opening the door. Iris was standing there, holding Leo’s hand. Iris was wearing a simple, fragile-looking white dress. Her eyes were red, and she was holding a bakery box. “Devon, is Chloe still mad?” Iris’s voice was so soft it sounded like it would blow away in the wind. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have called you yesterday. Leo, quickly call Devon ‘Daddy,’ and apologize to Lily later.” Six-year-old Leo looked chubby and spoiled. His eyes were filled with mischief. He pouted and grunted, “Daddy Devon.” Devon immediately patted his head, taking the cake. “It’s not your fault. Chloe is just overreacting. Come in. Have you eaten breakfast? I’ll have Maria make some waffles and bacon.” Standing on the stairs, watching this happy “family of three,” my stomach churned with disgust. Lily walked out of her room, clutching her favorite hand-carved wooden music box. Seeing Leo downstairs, she hid behind me. That music box was for next month’s youth craft fair. Lily had spent three nights using small carving tools to make it. Carved on top of the music box was a family of three: a dad, a mom, and a little girl. Devon looked up and saw us. His brow furrowed, but he waved his hand. “Lily, come down. Leo is here to apologize to you. I even bought your favorite strawberry cake.” Lily clutched my shirt and shook her head. “I don’t want the cake, and I don’t want his apology,” she said, her voice stuffy. Iris stepped forward, looking up at us with a pitiful expression. “Lily, I’m apologizing on Leo’s behalf. Please don’t be mad at your dad. He is a good man; he just feels sorry for Leo. You have everything, but Leo only gets to see your dad once in a while. You’re a good, understanding girl. You can understand that, right?” What a toxic guilt trip. I laughed coldly, holding Lily’s hand as we walked downstairs. “Iris, cut the act. My daughter is not a saint, and she doesn’t need to understand your sob stories. Take your brat and get the hell out of my house.” “Chloe!” Devon shouted, pulling Iris behind him protectively. “Have you had enough?! Iris came all this way to apologize, and you have to be this nasty?” Suddenly, Leo broke free from Iris’s grip, ran over to Lily, and pointed at the music box in her arms. “What’s that? It’s so pretty! I want it!” He reached out to grab it. “No! This is my project for the fair!” Lily screamed, holding it tightly. “I want it! Daddy Devon said I can play with anything in this house!” Leo used his weight to shove Lily hard. Lily stumbled and fell to the floor, but her hands still clutched the music box. “Leo!” Fuming with anger, I rushed over, pushed him away, and pulled Lily into my arms. Leo landed on his butt and immediately started wailing. “Waaah! Daddy Devon, she hit me! She won’t let me have the toy!” Iris rushed over to hug her son, tears streaming down her face. “Leo, don’t cry, Mommy’s here… Chloe, he’s just a child. Did you really have to push him that hard?” Devon’s face turned completely black. He strode over, pulled Leo up, and then glared down at Lily. “Lily, give the music box to Leo.” His voice was an absolute command. Lily looked up, her face covered in tears, looking at the father she used to look up to. She shook her head desperately. “No! I carved this! Daddy, you promised to go to the fair with me…” “I said, give it to him!” Devon’s patience ran out. He reached down to snatch it from Lily’s arms himself. “Devon, are you crazy?!” I tried to block him, but he shoved me away. I hit the edge of the coffee table, a sharp pain shooting through my hip. During the struggle, there was a loud crack. The music box fell to the floor, splitting into two. The carved “dad” figure’s head broke off, rolling under the couch. Lily froze. Looking at the shattered pieces, she let out a sharp cry and reached down to grab them. But the sharp metal spring of the music box had popped out. Its jagged edge sliced right across Lily’s delicate palm. Blood gushed out, dripping onto the white carpet. “Mommy! It hurts…” Lily held up her bloody hand, shaking with pain. I scrambled over like crazy, using my shirt to press against her wound, my tears spilling over. “Don’t worry, Lily. Mommy is here. I’m taking you to the hospital!” I glared up at Devon, my eyes filled with hatred. “Devon, are you happy now?!” But Devon wasn’t even looking at Lily’s bleeding hand. He was frantically checking Leo’s fingers. During the scuffle, Leo’s hand had been lightly scratched by a tiny splinter. It wasn’t even bleeding, just slightly red. “Does it hurt, buddy? Let me blow on it.” Devon’s voice was incredibly gentle. At that moment, my heart died. Completely. Not even ashes were left. Without looking at him again, I picked up my bleeding daughter and rushed out of the house. Behind me, I heard Iris’s fake voice. “Devon, maybe you should check on Lily, she was bleeding…” Devon’s annoyed voice followed. “It’s just a scratch. Chloe spoils her too much. Come on, buddy, let’s go buy you a new Lego set.”

In the ER, the doctor put three stitches in Lily’s hand. With every stitch, Lily flinched, but she bit her lip and didn’t cry once. But her eyes, which used to sparkle, were now dull and lifeless. “Mommy,” she whispered, leaning against me. “The wooden daddy broke. Does that mean I don’t have a daddy anymore?” My tears fell onto her hair. I hugged her tight and said, “You have Mommy, and that’s enough. Mommy will find you the best dad in the world.” After her hand was bandaged, I sat on the hospital hallway bench. I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in seven years. The phone rang once before it was picked up. A deep, cold, yet slightly trembling voice came through. “Chloe?” “Ethan,” I closed my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Does what you said back then still count?” The other side went silent for ten seconds. Ethan. The most powerful billionaire heir in the country. He was ruthless in business and cold to everyone. But he was also the boy next door who had grown up with me. Seven years ago, when I insisted on marrying Devon, who had nothing, Ethan had stood in the pouring rain all night. Finally, with red eyes, he had told me, “Chloe, if you ever lose, just turn around. I will always be right behind you.” “It counts,” Ethan’s voice was firm and powerful. “Where are you?” “City General Hospital, ER.” “Ten minutes.” Hanging up, I looked at the pouring rain outside and let out a long breath. Devon, since you care about Julian’s debt more than anything, you can spend the rest of your life with his widow. In less than ten minutes, heavy, synchronized footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway. Eight bodyguards in black suits quickly cleared the area, standing in two neat rows. Ethan, wearing a long black coat, walked in with long strides. His face was as sharp as a sculpture, carrying the intimidating aura of someone who ruled a business empire. But the moment he saw me holding Lily, looking completely disheveled, the ice in his eyes shattered. He quickly walked over and knelt on one knee in front of us. His gaze fell on Lily’s thick bandage, and his aura turned incredibly cold. “He did this?” Ethan’s voice sounded like it came from the depths of hell. I nodded. Ethan closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to suppress his rage. He reached out his large hand, gently stroking Lily’s head. His voice was surprisingly tender. “Lily, does it still hurt? How about I take you home?” Lily looked at the handsome, tall man and asked timidly, “Ethan, will you leave me for another kid?” Ethan’s heart squeezed. He looked into Lily’s eyes and said word for word, “I swear, even if the sky falls, I will protect you first.” Lily finally let out a loud cry, wrapping her uninjured arm around Ethan’s neck. Ethan picked her up easily, using his other hand to hold mine tightly. “Chloe, let’s go.” Ethan’s motorcade drove straight to Devon’s villa. I needed to pack Lily’s most important belongings and leave the divorce papers. When the bodyguards kicked the front door open

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