Category: English

When the plane was crashing, my husband, the pilot, stared at me and his mistress, a conflicted expression on his face. But I didn’t hesitate. I thrust the last parachute into their hands. In my previous life, after much deliberation, my husband had given the parachute to me, his pregnant wife. He stayed behind on the doomed plane, intending to commit a lover’s suicide with his mistress. Yet, their imagined shared death didn’t happen. His mistress died in the crash, but he miraculously survived. From then on, my husband stayed by my side every day, eagerly awaiting the birth of our child. I was overjoyed, but on the day our baby was just a month old, he suffocated her to death right in front of me: “If you hadn’t insisted on coming, there wouldn’t have been one less parachute on the plane.” “You killed my greatest love, and today, I’ll make you feel that same pain!” Overcome with grief, I died with him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the plane crash.

“Attention passengers, please remain calm. Grab your life vests, no pushing or shoving!” That familiar voice pulled me back from the darkness. I didn’t rush to grab a life vest or parachute. Instead, my hands flew to my belly. My baby. Still safe and sound inside me. As I stood there, stunned, a hand tapped my shoulder. I looked up in surprise. It was Brenda, the chief flight attendant of this luxurious flight. She looked at my dazed face and rolled her eyes in disdain: “The captain said the passengers should evacuate first. As the captain’s wife, you’ll be among the last to evacuate with us.” I paused, then gave a different answer than I had in my previous life: “I’m just a regular passenger on this flight. Why should I take on the responsibilities of your crew?” Brenda’s lips curled into a sneer as she watched me: “Who doesn’t know you shamelessly tagged along just to keep an eye on Ms. Serena?” “You’re already pregnant, and still so jealous all the time. You took the seat that was meant for Ms. Serena, forcing her to squeeze into the cockpit. I might as well tell you now, there’s one less life vest on this plane.” With that, Brenda fastened her own equipment and continued checking on the other passengers’ preparations. I sat in my seat, a whirlwind of emotions inside me. I had actually been reborn back to this moment. In my previous life, my pilot husband, Liam, had also illegally brought his mistress, Serena, on board. But I had no idea; I was just coincidentally booked on this flight for a meeting in the same city. I’d bought the very last ticket at the last minute. So Serena, who’d boarded for free thanks to her connection with the captain, was reluctantly squeezed into the cockpit. But with an extra person on board, there was one less life vest. After the crash, I, completely oblivious, had intended to stay until the very end and die with Liam. But at the critical moment, Liam grit his teeth and handed me the last emergency kit. Facing my grateful tears, he’d said: “Eleanor, please raise our child alone. Tell him his dad was a hero.” He urged me to put on the life vest and strap on the parachute. However, the moment he pushed me out of the plane, I heard him whisper to his mistress, Serena: “My little Serena, we may not be able to live together, but to die together… isn’t that a form of happiness?” To my disappointment, Serena died in the crash, but Liam miraculously survived unharmed. But later, this man, who wanted me to tell our child he was a hero… Suffocated our month-old daughter right in front of me. The chilling memory made me tremble uncontrollably. He was the one who wanted to die with his mistress. He was the one who chose to save me. He, Liam, was the one who violated regulations, resulting in an extra person on board. So why, in the end, did my child have to pay for his mistress’s life?! My innocent baby, my innocent self. I just happened to buy the last ticket. Why did I end up like that? I shook uncontrollably with memories of the past. Brenda walked past me, sneering sarcastically: “Captain’s wife, huh? Look at you, trembling like that. You’re nothing compared to our Serena.”

I didn’t argue. I just raised a hand to wipe away a tear from my eye. She was right. In the eyes of all Liam’s friends and colleagues, I couldn’t hold a candle to Serena. Serena was once the most stunning flight attendant on their crew, and she certainly seemed a better match for a captain like Liam. But Serena was the one who left after snagging a rich businessman in First Class, which is why Liam ended up marrying me. Thinking about that, a sharp pain flared in my chest again. Maybe they’d both been sick of me being in the way, willing to die together rather than endure me for another day. As the plane violently shook, I gripped the armrest tightly, barely managing to steady myself. The screams grew more piercing, and the flight attendant’s announcement finally blared again: “The plane has descended to a suitable altitude. Passengers who have donned their equipment, please line up and evacuate in order.” I glanced back frantically, watching the main group jump out one by one. My fingernails dug slowly into my palms. Amidst the chaos, Liam’s voice sounded above my head: “Eleanor, who told you to come along?” “I already married you. What more do you want?” “It’s all because of you that there’s one less emergency kit on this plane! Tell me, what am I supposed to do now?!” That last sentence, Liam’s voice was hoarse and hesitant. It reminded me of my past life. Back then, I’d seen Serena, shielded by Liam, and instantly understood. I’d cried, demanding an explanation from him. But he gave me no explanation. He simply shoved the life vest onto me and pushed me out of the plane. Now, looking at the ‘perfect couple’ in front of me, all I felt was a bitter laugh. My husband, whom I’d loved and cared for with all my heart for so many years, now seemed so utterly pathetic. I decisively pulled out the last emergency kit and gently handed it to Liam: “If that’s what you think, then you wear this life vest.” “Liam, take your mistress and get out of here.” Liam looked utterly baffled: “Eleanor, what’s your game? Why are you suddenly so generous?” “Do you have some kind of scheme? What are you really trying to do?!” He shielded Serena firmly behind him, as if protecting a priceless treasure. It was as if I was handing him not a life vest, but a bomb that would kill his precious ‘first love’. Watching Liam’s surprised and angry gaze, I slowly shook my head: “This plane is about to crash, Liam. I’m giving you the last life vest so you can make up for not saving your mistress.” “So, in your eyes, that’s a scheme?” Liam stared fixedly at me, an emotion I couldn’t decipher swirling in his eyes. In the dead silence, Serena suddenly burst into tears: “My dearest Liam, I know it was wrong of me to board without a ticket, but now that Eleanor is willing to let us go, we should hurry.” “Eleanor was lucky to marry you, and besides, we’re soulmates, neither of us wants to escape alone. This is the best way…” Listening to Serena’s crying, Liam suddenly moved his gaze away from me as if he’d been shocked. His hands trembling slightly, he quickly helped Serena put on the life vest: “You’re right. Eleanor is lucky. She’ll be fine.” With that, Liam bent down and, completely ignoring me, meticulously checked Serena’s equipment. Once he was sure everything was in order, he wrapped an arm around her slender waist. Under my silent gaze, the two of them vanished before me.

The plane, once stable, was now like a tattered plastic bag swaying wildly as it plummeted. I pressed my lips together, gripping the seat beside me, and slowly moved into the cockpit. So the cockpit was this spacious. No wonder Serena loved hiding in here. Liam and I had been married for years, yet every time I suggested visiting the cockpit, he would always frown and refuse: “You’re not part of the crew, what right do you have to visit the cockpit?” “It’s full of important equipment. If you break something, do you think you can afford to pay for it?!” After being scolded so many times, I’d just given up. I never imagined that in this life, I’d actually have a chance to enter the cockpit, to enter Liam and Serena’s love nest. Fumbling my way into the pilot’s seat, I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Right in front of this seat, there was a sticker. On it, Serena’s name. I’d only ever heard of boyfriends putting “girlfriend’s seat” stickers in their cars; today was truly an eye-opener. It turned out that, even at such close quarters, Liam had proudly displayed his love for Serena in the cockpit. I reached out, intending to peel off that glaring sticker, but as I got closer, I noticed a line of small text beneath it: “If we cannot live together, may we be buried together in death.” I suddenly felt an itch on my face. Reaching up, I wiped away a tear. It turned out they had already made vows of living and dying together. My heart felt dead. Through the front window, I watched the ocean getting closer and closer, then simply closed my eyes. In the darkness, I remembered many things. Liam and I, we weren’t deeply in love, but we were always respectful towards each other. That was until Serena was dumped and ran crying into Liam’s arms at the airport, just as he was changing shifts. She acted as if she couldn’t see my hand intertwined with Liam’s, wrapping her arms around his waist, tears streaming down her face. That was the first time I ever saw Serena. At that moment, Liam warily glanced at me, then, in front of everyone, quietly let go of my hand. I was furious, and I pulled Serena away from Liam. Liam’s face instantly darkened. He warned me not to disrupt him from comforting a colleague. That’s right, even though Serena was currently unemployed, in Liam’s words, she was a colleague who stood shoulder to shoulder with him. As captain, he would buy her breakfast, fix her light bulbs, and clear her clogged drains. And when she had her period, he would thoughtfully arrange for me to make her ginger and brown sugar tea. I couldn’t endure such humiliation and argued with Liam countless times. Yet each time, he would give me the same answer: “Serena is already so pitiful. Can’t you have some sympathy?” “You’ve already gotten what you wanted by marrying me. Do you really need to keep me on a leash every day to be satisfied?!” These scenes that once tore me apart now only felt absurd. I pressed my lips together, opened my eyes, and looked at the rapidly approaching sea, awaiting either death or a new beginning. After a deafening crash, the plane’s windows shattered under the enormous impact. Yet, those sharp fragments miraculously bypassed me, carried away by the water. Watching the shards of glass, swept by the waves, stab into my left side, my heart suddenly lurched. Serena had once, in a roundabout way, added me on SnapChat, and her profile signature was peculiar: “I am on your left, close to your heart.” No wonder Liam was unharmed in my previous life, while Serena died instantly. It was all because of their ridiculous vows of love. I was an excellent swimmer, but under such violent impact, I still choked on a lot of water. Coupled with the discomfort of my pregnancy, I ultimately couldn’t make it to shore. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a sterile white hospital room. Seeing me awake, the young nurse, Chloe, at my bedside offered a sweet smile: “Your condition isn’t good right now, so don’t rush to get up. I’ll go call the doctor!” She quickly walked out of the room, and before leaving, as if afraid I’d be bored, she specifically turned on the TV. The news channel was reporting on the plane crash from two days ago. However, as the reporter’s mouth moved, the report stated there were no casualties. My heart gave a violent jolt. No casualties? Then what was I? Perhaps I’d been unconscious for too long, but as soon as I sat up, I felt dizzy. As my vision blurred, the doctor rushed over and steadied me: “Are you alright? A fishing boat out at sea rescued you. Do you remember your family’s phone number? I’ll help you notify them.” I opened my mouth, and after a long moment, I gave Liam’s number. Not that I wanted to contact him, but he was indeed my last remaining family in the world. The doctor held his phone, gave me a sympathetic look, and put it on speaker. On the other end, Liam’s slightly hoarse voice came through: “Who is this?” Besides his voice, I vaguely heard a woman’s whining: “Liam, my foot still hurts so much.” Liam chuckled softly, seemingly picking up something: “You drama queen, why are you so clumsy? Let me put some medicine on it for you.” The doctor, listening to their flirtatious banter, rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, interrupting them: “You’re Liam, right? Your wife, Eleanor, is currently at Oceanside Hospital.” Immediately after, I heard Serena’s shriek, the sound of things crashing, and Liam’s horrified accusation: “The plane crashed, the fuel leaked, and it burned to ashes. Completely gone. And you’re telling me Eleanor is still alive?” “Who are you, and what’s your game?!”

I calmly took the phone from the doctor, whose face was growing increasingly grim, and spoke coldly: “He’s the doctor who saved my life.” “Liam, I’m not dead. Are you very disappointed?” Liam’s voice, previously full of accusations, suddenly caught in his throat. After a long silence, he nervously lowered his voice: “Eleanor, don’t tell anyone you’re alive yet.” “I… I need a favor from you. I’ll come find you later.” With that, Liam abruptly hung up. The doctor and nurse watched all this, speechless. Then they both pointed at the TV behind them: “Liam, your husband, is he *that* pilot from the crash?” “How could he leave his pregnant wife on a crashing plane, and he… how could he tell the rescue team that all the passengers safely escaped?” Yes, how could he tell the rescue team that all passengers had safely escaped? It turned out my husband not only shamelessly took the last life vest but also sealed off all my chances of survival! I lowered my eyes, my heart heavy with bitterness. My hands clenched into fists, but I didn’t know how to speak. Seeing my distress, the nurse realized she had said the wrong thing. She covered her mouth and helped me close the door to the room. I buried my face in the crisp white bedding and finally burst into tears. That afternoon, Liam didn’t come. Instead, Brenda, the chief flight attendant who had been so disdainful of me on the plane, arrived. She pushed the door open. Seeing my haggard face, a flicker of embarrassment crossed her features, but she still lowered her gaze and walked over, placing a pile of various health supplements on my bedside table: “Eleanor, Liam can’t get away right now, so he asked me to come check on you first.” I managed a faint smile, too tired to even lift my eyelids: “Is he busy accompanying Serena?” “What, in your crew’s eyes, am I—the pregnant woman who gave up her parachute and miscarried in a plane crash—still worth less than your former colleague?” Brenda kept her head down, not daring to meet my eyes. After a while, she suddenly tried to speak in a low voice: “Eleanor, you know, ever since Liam became captain, I’ve been his chief flight attendant. I watched him like he was my own younger brother.” “Now he’s… he’s committed a grave error, hiding your death…” “Because Serena wants to rejoin the crew. If it’s found out now that she boarded illegally, then…” Brenda’s voice trailed off, finally falling silent. I lifted my head and stared at her for a long time: “You knew it was Liam who illegally brought someone onto the plane, and you knew I suffered all this because of Serena.” “But now, you, as the chief flight attendant, a position second only to Liam on the plane, have come to persuade me… to persuade me to act like nothing happened, is that right?” Brenda, who had once been so proud and biased towards Serena over me, quietly listened to my questions, her head bowed deeply. She didn’t speak for a long time. Since she wasn’t speaking, I simply closed my eyes to rest. This chief flight attendant was a capable woman, and also Liam and Serena’s love bodyguard. Ever since Serena was dumped and returned, Liam always found excuses to go out. We often argued. Sometimes, when he was annoyed or too lazy to explain to me, he would push the blame onto Brenda: “I’m with Brenda.” “Brenda called for us to hang out, it’s rude not to go.” “It’s not just the two of us; Brenda is there too. She’s always fair and impartial, what’s there to worry about?” I thought about Liam’s past excuses and suddenly laughed aloud: “You know, whenever Liam went to meet Serena in secret, he always told me you were there too.” “He also said you were the most fair and impartial, and asked me what I had to worry about!”

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I was blasted online by the new intern, Chloe Reed, who claimed AscendCorp was forcing employees to use their vacation days for mandatory team-building events. No one wanted to travel all the way to a tropical island to put on a show with coworkers. But what the internet didn’t know was AscendCorp’s team-building tradition: Every year, we booked an entire five-star resort, all expenses paid, and employees could bring their families. We even gave an additional three days of paid leave, with a lavish per-person budget that ensured a truly luxury experience. The entire internet was calling me a cold-blooded capitalist, so I decided to fulfill their wishes and issued a direct announcement: “In response to employee feedback and to respect individual time, this year’s company retreat will be canceled. Instead, a $500 free-travel stipend will be issued to all employees.” The moment the announcement went out, the company erupted. Senior employees swarmed my office door, begging me to bring back the Caribbean sun and sand. Brenda Patterson, our Administrative Director, and I had just finalized this year’s retreat plans. “Alex, this is the one, right? A six-star island in the Maldives, all-inclusive.” Brenda’s voice was buzzing with excitement. I nodded, satisfied. Years ago, in a cramped, dingy startup office, I had promised my team: “One day, I’m going to take all of us to the most breathtaking places on Earth to celebrate our successes!” It was a promise I had kept for many years. I told Brenda, “The per-person budget is generous—don’t skimp on a single cent. And make sure every employee attending gets three extra days of *paid* annual leave!” Brenda smiled, closing her tablet. “If we send this out, the company-wide WhatsApp group is going to explode.” Sure enough, after the notice went into our 400-plus person company WhatsApp group, it was instantly flooded with celebratory emojis. David Miller from the tech department posted a family photo: “Amazing! Last year I promised to take my daughter to the beach to see sea turtles, and now it’s finally happening!” A newlywed couple from the marketing department was already discussing whether to turn it into a spontaneous honeymoon. The entire company was immersed in a festive joy. I watched the endless stream of thank-you messages scrolling across my phone screen, a deep sense of satisfaction filling me. However, a discordant message abruptly popped up. It was from the new intern, Chloe Reed. She posted a link to a viral TikTok video where an influencer was ranting about pointless corporate retreats, then casually added: “Seriously? Are they for real? A company still doing mandatory trips in this day and age? I’d totally rather just stay home and do nothing.” The lively group chat instantly froze. Mike Peterson, a department head, immediately tried to defuse the tension: “Chloe just joined, she doesn’t know the ropes yet. Our company retreat is a top-tier perk—you’d be crazy to miss it!” Another coworker sarcastically chimed in, “Exactly. Some people would kill to get an invite like that.” Chloe immediately replied with an eye-roll emoji: “No thanks, not interested. Don’t want to waste my life putting on a show with coworkers I barely know.” “If the boss really has that kind of cash, why not just give us the money directly? That’d be way more useful.” Her comments silenced the group completely. A few senior employees who had been enthusiastically chatting just moments before quietly deleted their messages. I even noticed a few anonymous profiles discreetly ‘liked’ Chloe’s comment, only to quickly unlike it seconds later. That afternoon, there was a knock on my office door. It was Chloe Reed. She wore trendy slides and carried a bubble tea, showing no hint of nervousness in front of the CEO. “Alex, can we talk?” With a slight tilt of her chin, she casually flopped onto the sofa across from me. “I think this whole company retreat thing is totally outdated. For young people like us, we value work-life separation. You spend a fortune to gather us all, and we have to fake smiles? How exhausting.” She looked at me defiantly. “It’s an emotional drain, you know? Why not just give us the money directly? Everyone wins.” I looked at her, that ‘let me show you how it’s done’ look on her face, finding it both absurd and amusing. “The company retreat is a mark of honor for our outstanding employees, a form of collective recognition, not some bargain-bin perk you can haggle over.” Chloe scoffed. “Fine, whatever. My bad for even saying anything.” She stood up to leave, mumbling under her breath, “So preachy. Lame.” Towards the end of the workday, I saw Gary Thompson, an office veteran, along with a few younger employees, gather around Chloe’s desk. Gary beamed, “Chloe, what you said? That’s exactly how we feel! You nailed it! Don’t worry, we’ve got your back!” Chloe smugly raised an eyebrow, lowering her voice. “Don’t worry, Gary, watch this.” Immediately after, I saw Chloe pull out her phone and snap a pic of her computer screen. Then, she flipped the camera to herself, her face instantly shifting to a put-upon expression, complete with a somber gray filter. Her lips moved, forming a silent “Help me!” My stomach dropped.

After getting home from work, a video notification suddenly popped up. The sensational headline screamed: “My Salary vs. Their ‘Mandatory’ Luxury Retreat: Is This a Blessing or a Curse?” On the thumbnail, it was Chloe’s face, a picture of pure, forced misery. My stomach lurched, and I clicked on the video. It opened with a promotional video for a six-star Maldives hotel, but it was desaturated to a gloomy black and white, set to somber music. Text overlay appeared: “The boss’s sugar-coated promises sure *look* good.” The scene switched to Chloe’s desk, with a close-up of a regular spreadsheet. New text: “But I’m just a regular employee, all I want is to clock out and go home.” Then a close-up of her looking tearfully wronged, with the text: “Being told my precious personal weekend would be eaten up by some huge, forced group performance? Yeah, no thanks.” She slyly twisted “extra paid time off” into “eating up our precious weekends.” Finally, she addressed the camera, accusingly: “Forget the Maldives. All I want is to sleep in on my days off. If this is a ‘blessing,’ you can have it.” The comments section, predictably, blew up. “Gen Z knows how to live! Name and shame! We’ll help you cancel them!” “Hate bosses like this, just patting themselves on the back! Get it straight, my job is to work, not to perform for some ‘team-building’ charade.” “Introverts hate team building! Give us back our peace and quiet!” My blood ran cold with fury. Three days of paid leave, spun as “eating up our precious weekends.” A several-thousand-dollar luxury benefit, framed as “blackmail.” The next morning, the company atmosphere felt off. Several employees clustered around Chloe, verbally chastising her for being “too bold” while their faces gleamed with excited curiosity. Gary Thompson, the office veteran, even walked directly into my office with her. Gary began with a phony sigh. “Alex, don’t be mad. While Chloe’s approach was a bit extreme, she did speak for a lot of young people. Maybe… you should just go with the flow?” Chloe stood beside him, arms crossed, a smug, defiant expression on her face. She wiggled her phone. “Alex, see? This is what everyone wants. It’s the current trend.” I said coldly, “The company’s traditions and rules will not change because of anyone’s childish antics.” Chloe let out a dismissive scoff. “Traditions? Traditions are meant to be broken. If you don’t find a way to make people happy, I can’t guarantee this won’t go viral nationwide tomorrow.” Just as she finished, my assistant burst through the door, pale as a ghost. “Alex, it’s bad! Chloe Reed’s video is already trending!” I refreshed my phone, and it was true. What chilled me even more were a few anonymous comments below the video, the IP addresses traced back to *this very building*. “Ugh, tell me about it. They call it a luxury trip, but last year’s hotel room was smaller than my bathroom.” “Benefits? Just empty promises. They say ‘thousands per person,’ but that dump barely cost a few hundred.” These lies made my head swim. They wanted the company’s lavish benefits, yet they wanted to push all the risk onto an intern. They fantasized that if things blew up, the trip would be directly converted into cash. This sophisticated yet greedy self-interest shattered years of my goodwill. I looked at the two triumphant figures before me and suddenly felt utterly hollow.

Overnight, AscendCorp, once an “ideal workplace” that everyone envied, had transformed into a “sweatshop” condemned by the entire internet. The company’s name, my photos—everything was doxxed. Abusive DMs and incessant harassment calls flooded my phone, making it vibrate furiously on my desk. “Cold-blooded capitalist, hope your company goes bankrupt tomorrow!” “Exploitative trash company, already reported you to the labor department!” My PR manager, with heavy bags under his eyes, handed me an emergency PR plan. His voice was hoarse. “Alex, we have to speak out immediately! Draft an official statement, clarify all the facts!” I pinched my throbbing temples, looking at him. “If we issue a statement now, to the public, it won’t be a calm explanation. It’ll be seen as defensive and tone-deaf showing off of wealth, which will only provoke greater outrage.” The manager froze, his mouth agape, unable to speak. When emotion overwhelms reason, facts simply fall on deaf ears. I was wrong. I thought that if I treated people with sincerity, someone would eventually choose to believe me. But as I refreshed that trending video, a new anonymous comment, boosted to the top by countless likes, caught my eye. The familiar tone made me almost certain it came from within the company. “Don’t bother trying to explain. I’m an insider at this company. That ‘paid leave’? It’s just them forcing us to use our own precious annual leave! Refuse, and your manager will make your life hell. We’re all angry but too scared to speak up!” I stared hard at that comment, my head swimming. It wasn’t anger. It was a bone-deep weariness and disgust. I could even picture who typed those words – perhaps the same senior employee who had thanked me just last week. This comment, like a giant boulder, crushed the last shred of hope in my heart. With even more malicious lies, it tainted the company’s sole act of goodwill, turning it into a conspiracy. Below it, countless others claiming to be “internal employees” chimed in. My mind flashed back to the days when the company first turned a profit, everyone celebrating at a local diner. Back then, everyone’s smiles were genuine. I questioned myself: in terms of benefits and treatment, I had never short-changed any of the team who had struggled alongside me. Yet, in the end, all I got was betrayal from everyone. They comfortably enjoyed my generosity, yet for the sake of some vague “cash bonus,” they didn’t hesitate to stab me in the back. Turns out, my carefully cultivated image of decency was nothing but a self-indulgent joke. The PR manager was still anxiously urging me. “Alex, if we don’t speak out now, our partners and investors will be flooded with calls!” I wearily waved him off, pushing the proposal aside. “No need.” My voice was chillingly calm. “Prepare a new notice.” I stood up and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window. Downstairs, several media interview vans were already parked. I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. I hadn’t lost to Chloe Reed; I had lost to my own ridiculous trust. From today on, I, Alex Sterling, would only be a businessman. A businessman deals in profit, not sentiment. I picked up my phone and dialed my assistant’s internal line. “Notify all employees: tomorrow morning at 9 AM, everyone is to be in the main conference room for a meeting to discuss the final optimized plan for this year’s team building.” On the other end, my assistant’s voice was hesitant. “Alex, are you… are you going to compromise with them?” “No.” I looked out at the vultures of the media outside the window, enunciating each word. “It’s time for them to pay for their greed themselves.”

The next morning, the company’s main conference room was packed. The air hummed with barely suppressed excitement and anticipation. It didn’t feel like a crisis management meeting; it felt more like a victory celebration. Chloe Reed and Gary Thompson sat in the front row, surrounded by a cluster of younger colleagues. Gary boasted, spitting enthusiasm, “I told you, Alex can be swayed by persuasion, but not by force. As long as we stick together and make enough noise, he’ll definitely cave!” Chloe looked even more smug, even secretly starting a live stream on her phone. The live stream’s title was particularly jarring: “Fam, witness Gen Z cleaning up the workplace! This is how we snatched our benefits back from the corporate overlords!” At precisely nine o’clock, I walked into the conference room. All eyes immediately fixated on me—some with schadenfreude, others with anticipation. I walked to the front and bowed deeply. “I apologize.” A ripple went through the room, followed by a burst of enthusiastic applause. In Chloe’s live stream, the comments were instantly flooded with “Boss apologized!” and “Go, Gen Z!” I straightened up, scanning the smug, triumphant faces below. “Due to my personal stubbornness and outdated thinking, I overlooked the importance you place on personal time and caused significant distress. For that, I sincerely apologize.” The applause grew even louder. Gary Thompson even stood up and shouted, “It’s a good thing Alex can admit his mistakes and correct them!” Chloe, even more delighted, aimed her live stream at me, as if showing off her trophy. I waited for the applause to subside, then shifted my tone. “To fully restore freedom and choice to everyone, after an entire night of careful consideration, I have decided to implement a radical overhaul of this year’s team-building plan.” Everyone held their breath, eyes gleaming with greedy anticipation. I looked at them, and one by one, I announced my decisions. “First, effective immediately, AscendCorp will completely cancel all collective travel traditions that have been in place since the company’s founding.” A cheer instantly erupted in the conference room. Ignoring their reaction, I continued with the second decision. “Second, to compensate everyone and support your freedom to travel, the company will instead issue a $500 free-travel stipend to each active employee.” “This is our way of expressing the highest respect for your freedom!” Silence fell over the room. Chloe Reed’s phone, which was still live streaming, clattered to the floor, its screen shattering. From a lavish, all-expenses-paid trip to the Maldives worth thousands per person, it had plummeted to a paltry five-hundred-dollar stipend. The massive disparity simply short-circuited their brains. I added, expressionless, “This is the precious freedom you fought so hard for, even at the cost of damaging the company’s reputation. Now, you are free.” I connected my phone to the projector. On the screen was the real-time stock market candlestick chart for AscendCorp’s parent company, a stark, downward green line that was alarming. Beside it were pop-up alerts from major financial news outlets. “AscendCorp’s corporate culture questioned amid forced team-building controversy, stock plummets 15% at open!” Everyone’s expressions rapidly shifted from bewilderment and shock to unconcealed panic and despair. Their jobs, they realized, were about to be shattered by their own hands. Chloe Reed was the first to jump up, her voice sharp and shrill. “The team-building budget was thousands per person! Why is the free-travel stipend only $500? You’re so greedy!” I looked at her coldly. “Your public shaming threatened the company’s survival, causing the stock to crash and company funds to tighten. This is the direct consequence of your reckless actions.” My gaze swept across every pale, anxious face in the room. “We lost three hundred million dollars in market value in half a day. The board of directors has demanded that I purge the toxic elements causing this crisis within 24 hours. Otherwise, to cut costs and stabilize the stock price, the company will immediately initiate a 30% layoff plan.”

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I woke up, and just like that, I was eighteen again, back to the days when I was the target of relentless bullying. The school’s golden boy, Julian, shielded me, his voice booming as he lectured my tormentors: “Audrey is mine. Touch her, and you answer to me!” The girls around us gasped, swooning over his knight-in-shining-armor moment. A sharp, humorless laugh escaped my lips. If only I didn’t know that ten years later, this man would be my husband, bringing his mistress right into our home, flaunting their disgusting affair in my face, I might have cried tears of gratitude. But too bad… I wasn’t that pathetic, crybaby version of myself anymore. The twenty-eight-year-old me was long gone! Before Julian could even react, I quietly picked up a steel pipe from the ground. I flashed a chilling grin at my bullies: “Do you know what a *real* psycho looks like?” “Audrey, did you finally lose your mind after getting hit so many times?!” Brittany sneered, spitting on the ground. “Don’t act all innocent. You just flaunt your chest, which is bigger than everyone else’s, to hook up with guys, right?” “Slut! Disgusting!” “Who are you trying to scare with a broken pipe? Think you’re in some gangster movie?” Her gang of followers cackled along, their eyes filled with pure malice. I ignored their taunts and just smiled. “You’re right,” I murmured softly. “If you’re going to play the bad guy, you have to go all out.” The moment the words left my lips, I moved. The steel pipe whistled through the air, smashing down without hesitation onto Brittany’s raised arm. *Crack!* The crisp sound of bone breaking instantly drowned out all the other noise. Then came Brittany’s bloodcurdling shriek. “Ah—my arm! My arm is broken!” The color drained completely from her face. She cradled her arm, twisted at a grotesque angle, tears and snot mixing as she wailed. “Audrey! You psycho! You actually dared to…!” The girls who had been so arrogant just moments ago, their smiles froze, replaced by terror! They stared at me like I was a monster. “Why wouldn’t I dare? You bully me, and I’m not allowed to fight back?” I weighed the steel pipe in my hand, a cold, dark expression twisting my lips. Suddenly— “Ah!” Someone let out a high-pitched scream, and the girls scattered like startled pigeons. They stumbled and scrambled, wishing for more legs, terrified that they would be the next one to be broken. The narrow alley was instantly left with just Julian and me, and the widening puddle of blood on the ground. He was completely stunned, his face a mask of disbelief. In his eyes, I had always been sweet and innocent. He never imagined I would actually hit someone. “Audrey, calm down, don’t be impulsive…” “Listen to me, put that down.” He reached out to grab me, but I swung my hand back, putting all my strength into a stinging slap across his face. Five clear fingerprints rapidly appeared on his skin, a glaring red. “Audrey!” A flicker of raw fury flashed in his eyes. I smirked internally. There it was. That was the Julian I knew. After we got married in my past life, he quickly showed his true colors, treating me like a mere toy to satisfy his desires. Once he grew bored, he quickly found other women, even making me part of their twisted games. Whenever I tried to resist him, he would look at me with that same glint in his eye. But he quickly suppressed the anger, for no other reason than he still wanted me. “Fine, you’re wild enough.” “I like it.” A cold, thin smile stretched across his lips. I couldn’t be bothered to look at him again. I casually tossed aside the steel pipe, stained with blood and rust. Like it? Julian, this time, I’ll make sure you *really* “like” it.

Back in the classroom, the entire class fell into a deathly silence. Everyone stared at me like they’d seen a ghost, their whispers barely audible. “Oh my god, she really dared to hit Julian? Is she crazy? Will the Chen family even let her live until tomorrow?” “And Brittany got hit too. I just saw someone helping her to the infirmary, her wrist was swollen like a pig’s foot, completely disfigured… Don’t tell me Audrey did it?” “She’s lost her mind, hasn’t she? She used to be so timid, always quiet. She’d just cry when she was bullied.” I ignored the chatter and walked straight to my desk. On my desk, someone had used white-out to draw a crude turtle, with “Audrey the slut” written next to it. My desk cubby was stuffed with garbage. There was even a wad of chewed-up gum spit inside, with a few strands of unknown hair stuck to it. I emotionlessly extended my finger, scraping off the dried graffiti, bit by bit, with my fingernail. Not a word. But my calm demeanor, to others, looked like submission. Soon after, a folded note was passed from the front, accompanied by snickers from a few boys along the way, finally landing on my desk. I didn’t even need to open it to know what was inside. In my past life, I received notes like this almost every day. Because I developed curves earlier than other girls, some boys always found sick pleasure in it. They used vulgar insults to humiliate me, and took pride in it. I slowly unfolded the note. It was a drawing, done with a black marker. My body was crudely depicted naked, surrounded by several leering stick figures. They were making obscene gestures at me. Next to it, a line of scrawled text read: [Audrey, name your price tonight? Us guys are good in bed, we’ll make you scream for more.] The artwork was rough, but the malice practically overflowed from the page. My past self, seeing something like this, would have collapsed onto the desk, crying uncontrollably. Letting the explosion of laughter around me drown me completely. But now. I slowly lifted my head, my gaze sweeping coldly across the entire classroom. Finally, it landed on Kyle, a boy who was exchanging smirks and nudges with his buddies. Kyle was the class’s notorious troublemaker, and banking on his family’s money, his favorite pastime was bullying the weak. I held the note, stood up, and walked towards him, step by agonizing step. The air in the classroom completely solidified, even the sound of breathing vanished. Seeing me approach, Kyle didn’t hold back one bit. In fact, he smirked even wider. He leaned back in his chair with a swagger, his eyes raking over me from head to toe. Finally, he stuck out his tongue, making an incredibly lecherous lip-licking gesture. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes screamed, “What are you going to do about it?” I smiled, and under his provocative gaze, I slowly stuffed the crumpled note directly into his open mouth. “Ugh… What the hell are you doing?!” He hadn’t expected such a move, and gagged on the paper wad, his eyes rolling. “Does it taste good?” I leaned down and asked softly. Before he could react, I suddenly lifted my foot, aimed squarely between his legs. And kicked him with all my might! “Aow—!” Kyle’s protest instantly turned into a high-pitched, agonizing scream. He clutched his lower half, curling into a ball, his face instantly beet red. The class exploded! Girls shrieked in horror, covering their eyes. All the boys collectively gasped, instinctively clamping their legs together. Kyle writhed on the floor for a few seconds, then grabbed the heavy metal pencil case from his desk. His face contorted with fury, he roared and lunged at me: “You bitch! I’m going to kill you today!” I didn’t dodge. The moment he lunged, I precisely sidestepped him. I grabbed the wrist that was swinging the pencil case and twisted it backward with force! *Snap!* Another tooth-grinding sound of a joint dislocating. “Ah—!” He let out a second scream, his wrist dislocated, the pencil case clattering to the floor. As his other hand instinctively swung at me, I swiftly grabbed the utility knife that had popped open on his desk, and in one swift motion, without hesitation— A deep gash, visible to the bone, instantly bloomed on his arm. Blood dripped to the floor, staining the white tiles. The entire class fell into a deathly silence. Then came even more hysterical screams. “Ah! Blood! She killed him! Call the teacher!” In the chaos, the classroom’s back door burst open, and Julian rushed in again. He hurried to me, grabbing my shoulders, his grip so strong it felt like he would crush my bones. “Enough! Audrey, stop it! What the hell do you want?!” His voice was filled with exasperation and confusion. I violently shook off his hands, and with a flick of my wrist. The utility knife, still dripping blood, was pointed steadily at his Adam’s apple, barely a millimeter from piercing his throat. Watching his face instantly freeze, I spoke softly. “Julian, I’m saying this one last time.” “Don’t touch me. You disgust me.”

After that incident, I was taken to the Dean of Students’ office. Or rather, I strolled in confidently, followed by a group of trembling teachers. Kyle was also sent to the infirmary, and his notoriously feisty mother, Brenda, quickly stormed in. The moment she entered, she pointed a finger at my nose, spitting insults. “You little bitch! So vicious at such a young age! You beat my son like this, have you no respect for the law?!” “Didn’t your parents teach you right? Running around with boys and acting like trash!” Her shouting made my ears ache. Mr. Davies, the Dean of Students, was a balding man. He was clearly annoyed, constantly wiping sweat from his forehead. “Brenda, please don’t get agitated. We’re still investigating the matter. Audrey, she…” “Investigate what?! My son is bleeding! This little slut did it!” Brenda cut him off, eyeing me up and down. “Look at her, acting like a tramp! She doesn’t even look like a student! Dressed like she’s selling herself! How many men have touched those breasts?!” “This disgusting student should be expelled! Expel her immediately! Otherwise, I’ll cause hell for this school!” I watched her throw her tantrum calmly, not even bothering to lift an eyelid. Mr. Davies, seeing my “devil-may-care attitude,” also turned his attention to me, puffed up with self-importance: “Audrey! What is this attitude?! You hit a classmate and you don’t even regret it?” “Look at the terrible impact you’ve had on the school! Quickly! Apologize to Brenda right now!” I smiled, “Apologize?” Why should I apologize? In my past life, and in this one, how did they bully me? For three whole years, I practically ate tears with every meal, never knowing a single good day, struggling in fear every single day. Why should I apologize to the trash who bullied me?! Looking at Mr. Davies’ smug, judgmental face, I felt sick! In my past life, it wasn’t like I hadn’t fought back or cried for help. But when I told him what was happening, what did he say? “It takes two to tango. Why do they only bully you, and not others? Always think about your own problems. If you weren’t dressed provocatively and acting like you’re asking for trouble, would others mess with you?” But I was clearly wearing a loose, standard school uniform! I’ll never forget the creepy gaze he gave my chest as he lectured me! Now, I just stared at his greasy, dogmatic face with disdain, then slowly uttered three words: “He! Deserved! It!” “You—!” Mr. Davies’ face turned beet red with rage. He jumped up from his chair. “Rebellious! What kind of attitude is that?!” “Disrespectful! No remorse! Believe it or not, I’ll give you a suspension immediately!” I didn’t wait for him to finish. The moment his spittle flew, I grabbed the steaming hot mug of strong tea from his desk. With a flick of my arm, I aimed at his bald head and drenched him head-to-toe! *Splash!* Scalding tea mixed with soggy tea leaves plastered his face. “Ah—!” He shrieked, jumping off his chair, scalded and looking utterly pathetic. Everyone in the office was stunned. Brenda also backed away in shock, her eyes, for the first time, showing fear. Her expression screamed: *This woman is crazy, she even dares to hit the Dean of Students!* I walked slowly towards Mr. Davies, who was howling while clutching his face, my voice soft. “Mr. Davies, how much did Kyle’s family pay you off? You ignore the truth and just tell me to apologize? What can your mouth do besides bully me?” “You’re not fit to be a teacher.” “Rebellious! You’re completely rebellious!” Mr. Davies trembled with rage, pointing at me, but too much pain to utter a complete sentence. Just then, the office door opened. It was Julian. He gave a cold glance at the chaos in the office, his gaze finally settling on me. “Audrey, stop this. This is your last chance. Beg me.” “If you become my girlfriend, I’ll use my father’s connections to fix this for you.” I couldn’t help but laugh again. “Help me? Julian, you should worry about yourself first.” Under his stunned, confused gaze, my smile grew even brighter. “Aren’t you curious? Your womanizing father, with countless lovers, why doesn’t he have a single illegitimate child?” I paused, giving him time to think and feel fear, then slowly spoke. “You don’t know, do you? Your father has severe infertility.” I watched with satisfaction as the arrogance and confidence on his face instantly crumbled, shattering into endless pallor and panic. I leaned closer to him. “Julian, guess whose… bastard you really are?” In that instant, I saw Julian’s face crack, his eyes filled with disbelief! “You bitch, you… how do you know all this?!”

How do I know? You told me yourself, of course. Only after marrying Julian in my past life did I learn all the dirty secrets of his family. I coldly pushed him away, pulling out my phone to call his mother. “What are you doing!” He tried to snatch it, but my icy gaze nailed him to the spot. The call was answered quickly. I put it on speaker. “Who is this?” Julian’s body instantly stiffened. “Mrs. Eleanor? This is Audrey.” I chuckled lightly, “Your son, Julian, is currently in the Dean of Students’ office. You have ten minutes to come and pick him up.” “Otherwise, I imagine by tomorrow morning, all of high society will know that the sole heir of the Chen family is an illegitimate bastard of unknown origin.” There was a deathly silence on the other end of the line, lasting several seconds before she spoke. “I’ll be right there.” I hung up the phone and tucked it back into my pocket, not sparing Julian another glance. In the office, only Brenda was still clamoring endlessly: “I don’t care what grudges you have! This little bitch hitting my son is a fact!” “I’m calling the police! I’m calling them right now to arrest her!” “Calling the police?” I pulled out the note with the obscene drawing from my backpack and unfolded it in front of her. “Go ahead, call them. This is sexual harassment and character defamation, and this paper is the evidence.” “Even if he’s a minor and won’t go to jail, a record will follow him for life.” Kyle’s face turned pale, and he hung his head, not daring to speak. I stared at her and continued: “And I recall your son is applying for a sports scholarship, aiming for a prestigious university, right?” “Is it worth ruining his entire future for this petty dispute?” The arrogant fire on Brenda’s face instantly extinguished. She pointed a finger at me for a long time, but ultimately couldn’t press the call button. Less than ten minutes later, Julian’s mother, Eleanor, indeed arrived. She didn’t say a word, just grabbed the distraught Julian and hurried away. But before leaving, Eleanor’s face was pale, and her eyes looked like she wanted to devour me whole. But I didn’t care. This was exactly what I wanted. Only by making him fall from grace, by making him lose everything, could this revenge truly begin. The commotion in the office, in the face of the explosive secret about the Chen family, was no longer anyone’s concern. Mr. Davies, with tea leaves still plastered on his face, dared not say another word. Expel me? Compared to a madwoman who might have offended both the Chen family and another unknown powerful entity, Brenda’s threats seemed utterly ridiculous. I calmly walked out of the office, even thoughtfully closing the door behind me. The world was finally quiet. That night, lying in my room, memories of my past life flooded over me like a tide. I remembered when I was pregnant, suffering from terrible morning sickness. Julian brazenly brought his mistress to stay in our guest room, openly affectionate in front of me. The mistress even wore my pajamas and used my cup. “Sister, Julian says he loves it most when I wear your clothes. It gives him such a sense of conquest.” “Unlike you, you’re just a washed-up old hag. Julian says looking at you makes him lose his appetite.” Faced with the mistress’s blatant provocation, I was helpless. At that time, our child had a high fever and was convulsing. I cried and called Julian, begging him to come home, but he was flirting with his mistress on the phone. Finally, to force me to leave with nothing, he picked up a scalding cigarette butt and pressed it onto our child’s tender arm, right in front of me. Those pains have now all transformed into my motivation for revenge. Julian, this is just the beginning! Next, the Chen family will plunge into immense internal strife and a crisis of trust because of this incident. He’ll be powerless to retaliate against me for a while. He needs to figure out whose son he really is. I need to use this precious period of calm to find my most important chess piece – Leo. In my past life, when Julian pushed me to a dead end, utterly devastated, a young entrepreneur reached out to me. He was a legend who had graduated from our school, built his empire from scratch, and became a rising star in the business world. I remember he found me then, offering to help me get revenge on Julian. Unfortunately, my heart was already dead, and I refused his help. Soon after, I jumped from a tall building. And he, a few years later, was framed by the now successful Julian in a business rivalry. His company went bankrupt, he was burdened with massive debts, and eventually died heartbroken. Reborn, I not only want revenge, but also to seize this light that once shone at the end of my life, a light I had pushed away with my own hands. According to my memory, I found Leo, who was working part-time at the school library. At this moment, he was still just a senior in high school. Wearing a faded, well-worn school uniform, he was quiet and reserved. But his eyes held a maturity and ambition beyond his years. Perfect, he’s the one I need.

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On my eighteenth birthday, the Valerius crime family found me, claiming I was their long-lost daughter. They booked out an entire hospital, flying in top doctors from around the globe, all just to find a match for me and Caleb, their son, who had a heart condition. When the report flashed “perfect match,” my so-called mother, Eleanor, hugged me, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, Serena, this is wonderful! Your brother is saved!” But the night before the surgery, she brought me a bowl of sleeping draught, her eyes chilling as she said: “Drink this. We’ll announce you died during surgery, an unfortunate accident. You’re just a country girl, unfit for the Valerius name. Your heart is the only thing that gives you value, the only way you can save your brother.” I looked at the triumphant smirk on the fake heiress’s face behind her and calmly drank the soup. Mom, you didn’t know. My heart was already failing too. Doctors said I wouldn’t live three months. I watched the triumphant smirk on the fake heiress’s face behind her and calmly drank the soup. The soup was warm, carrying a medicinal taste, a flavor I utterly loathed. But I didn’t let it show. Instead, I offered her a smile. “Thank you, Mom.” She collected the bowl with satisfaction, and as she turned, the coldness and disdain in her eyes were no longer bothering to hide. “That’s more like it.” Behind her, the fake heiress, Serena Valerius – the girl who’d lived my life for eighteen years – giggled, clinging to Eleanor’s arm. “Mom, I told you Maya was the most understanding. She’d do anything for her brother.” The mother and daughter exchanged smug smiles, as if performing a play just for me. All I could do was offer a fake smile in return. After they left, I lay on the sterile white hospital bed, feeling the subtle changes in my body. I dared not sleep. Because I was still waiting. Waiting for my so-called father, Arthur Valerius, the head of the Valerius Corporation, to come for the final confirmation. Sure enough, half an hour later, the door to my room pushed open. Arthur Valerius strode in, impeccably dressed in a sharp suit, his expression utterly cold. It was as if he wasn’t visiting his daughter, but inspecting a newly acquired item. Beside him walked Dr. Wyatt, the world’s leading cardiac specialist. “Is she asleep?” Dr. Wyatt checked my pupils and pulse, then nodded. “Mr. Valerius, rest assured. The sedative dosage was precise. She’ll sleep soundly until the surgery begins, without any pain.” “Good.” Arthur Valerius’s voice held no ripple of emotion. “Remember, Dr. Wyatt, the surgery must be successful. My son’s life is more important than anything.” Dr. Wyatt nodded, respectfully responding. “The compatibility of this heart is truly perfect, a gift from God. Your son will recover quickly after the operation.” I almost laughed out loud. My dear father, you went to great lengths to drag me back from that remote village, not for reconciliation, but because your only son needed a compatible heart. And I, I was just the most compatible “item” you found. To prevent me from resisting, you lied, telling me it was just for tissue typing, a simple blood test. When the report came out, my biological mother, Eleanor, held me, weeping uncontrollably. But what she whispered was, “Caleb is saved.” From start to finish, no one ever asked me if I was willing. In their eyes, it seemed completely irrelevant. My life was clearly worth less than a suitable heart. Arthur Valerius stood for a while longer, seemingly ensuring I wouldn’t suddenly wake up. Then, he left without a backward glance. The moment the door closed, I opened my eyes. In the darkness, tears streamed down my face involuntarily. Mom, what you gave me was indeed a sleeping draught. But what you didn’t know was that before you brought it, I had already poured another bottle of colorless, odorless agent into my water glass. It was a powerful myocardial cell activator. It would make my heart exhibit unprecedented vitality and strength for a short period. But this vitality, which overtaxed my life, came at a price. After taking it, I could only sustain for a maximum of twelve hours. After twelve hours, it would completely fail and necrotize at the fastest possible rate. And that bowl of sleeping draught was the calculated prelude I needed to set the stage for this grand performance. You want my heart? Fine. I’ll give it to you. Not only will I give it, but I will personally deliver it into my “precious” brother’s chest. I want you to watch with your own eyes as hope, just ignited, crumbles into ashes.

The next morning, while I was still “asleep,” nurses wheeled me into the operating room. The surgical lights blazed, and cold instruments hummed faintly around me. Through a glass wall, I could vaguely see their anxious waiting figures. Eleanor covered her mouth, her eyes red, performing a show of deep mother-daughter affection. Serena, nestled beside her, couldn’t hide the triumph curving her lips. Dr. Wyatt put on his mask, picked up the scalpel, and gave a reassuring gesture to Arthur Valerius through the glass. “Prepare the anesthesia.” Cold liquid flowed into my veins. I took one last look at that family. Then, my consciousness plunged completely into darkness. … “It’s a success! The surgery was a complete success!” I don’t know how much time passed before I was “awakened” by a burst of ecstatic shouts. Of course, I wasn’t truly awake. My body had already been declared “massive intraoperative hemorrhage, resuscitation failed.” At this moment, the “me” was merely a detached consciousness, an observer. I saw Caleb Valerius wheeled out of the operating room, all his monitoring instruments showing normal readings. Eleanor saw her son emerge and immediately rushed forward. “Caleb, my Caleb! You’re finally well!” Arthur Valerius, for once, allowed a rare hint of a smile. He fought back tears as he clapped Dr. Wyatt on the shoulder. “Thank you.” Serena was even more excited, practically jumping up and down. “That’s wonderful! Caleb is fine!” The whole family gathered around Caleb, celebrating his new lease on life. Meanwhile, in another operating room, my body was slowly growing cold. No one cared. In fact, as Eleanor passed the gurney carrying my “body,” she averted her gaze in disgust, as if even a glance would bring bad luck. “Mom, what’s that?” Serena suddenly pointed to the bedside table in my old hospital room. There was an envelope there. It was in my handwriting. It read: To my dear Parents. Eleanor frowned, a look of revulsion on her face as she picked it up and tore it open. Arthur Valerius and Serena also leaned in, curious. The letter contained only a few short lines: \[Dad, Mom, thank you for finding me and giving me the chance to give my heart to my brother. Actually, I had already been diagnosed with heart failure when I was in the countryside. Doctors said I wouldn’t live three months. Now, to use this useless heart to buy my brother a lifetime of health is my greatest honor. Goodbye, I love you. The letter fluttered to the floor. Eleanor’s face instantly went ashen, her lips trembling, unable to utter a single word. Arthur Valerius snatched the letter, reread it several times, then ripped it to shreds. “Nonsense! This is impossible! Dr. Wyatt clearly said the heart was perfect!” He roared, as if grasping at a last straw. “Quick! Get Wyatt over here!” Just then, in Caleb Valerius’s room, a piercing alarm suddenly blared! “Beep—beep—beep—” The heartbeat curve on the monitor slowly dropped, then flattened into a straight line. A young nurse scrambled out, her voice shaking uncontrollably: “Mr. Valerius! It’s bad!” “Young Master Caleb… he has no heartbeat!”

The world, at that moment, seemed to hit a mute button. The corridor, filled with euphoria a second ago, instantly fell silent. Arthur Valerius pushed past the nurse and stormed into the room. My dear mother collapsed to the floor, her gaze vacant. “No… it can’t be… it was successful…” Inside the room, Dr. Wyatt and his team were frantically trying to revive Caleb. “Adrenaline!” “Prepare for defibrillation!” “No heart rate response! The failure is too rapid! This is not scientific!” Dr. Wyatt’s shouts bordered on hysteria. How could a heart that was considered an “artwork” just hours ago wither and necrotize like a sponge instantly drained of water? Arthur Valerius’s eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed Dr. Wyatt by the collar. “You said it was perfect! Why is this happening?!” “I don’t know!” Dr. Wyatt’s voice choked, shaking his head repeatedly. “This must be some unknown, acute rejection! Yes, it’s rejection, don’t blame me!” “Rejection?” Arthur Valerius’s eyes were wild. He threw Dr. Wyatt to the floor. “Then replace it again! Use mine!” Dr. Wyatt shook his head despairingly. “It’s too late, Mr. Valerius. This heart is necrotizing inside him, and the toxins will rapidly destroy his immune system…” “Useless!” Arthur Valerius punched the wall, blood instantly seeping from his knuckles. Hope had plummeted from the clouds, shattering into a million pieces. This feeling, it must be exquisite, wouldn’t it? I “floated” in the air, calmly observing the farce. At this moment, my eyes held only the thrill of vengeance served. Father, Mother, Brother. Your family, at last, was “reunited” in another way. Half an hour later, the resuscitation attempt ended. Dr. Wyatt wearily removed his mask, shaking his head helplessly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Valerius, we did everything we could.” Caleb Valerius, the Valerius family’s only heir, was dead. Killed by my “loving” heart. Eleanor let out a guttural scream and fainted. Arthur Valerius, a man always so cold, instantly aged ten years. His gaze, piercing through the crowd, landed on the gurney covered with a white sheet. My “body” lay there quietly. For the first time, his eyes held something other than calculation. Was it bewilderment, regret, or even a hint of fear? Whatever it was, I saw no remorse. He slowly walked over and pulled back the white sheet. My sallow, emaciated face lay there peacefully. “Heart failure… wouldn’t live three months…” He muttered the words from my letter over and over, as if hypnotizing himself, or perhaps denying everything. “Right, she was going to die anyway. It was her choice… it’s not my fault…” He sought some shred of comfort within himself. But how could these things be erased with a single phrase? The “fruit” on this tree, he had planted all the “seeds” himself. But Dr. Wyatt’s next words ripped away his last pretense. He rushed forward with a certificate, holding it out to Arthur Valerius, his expression agitated. “No! This isn’t right!” Dr. Wyatt frantically rushed to the nurses’ station and pulled up my pre-surgery blood report. He pointed to one of the indicators, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Impossible! This cellular activity indicates that this heart was stronger than any athlete’s heart before transplant! It wasn’t diseased at all!” Arthur Valerius’s whole body jolted. He immediately grabbed Dr. Wyatt’s shoulders. “What did you say?” “I said.” Dr. Wyatt’s voice trembled. “Her heart was healthy! Perfectly healthy! What the letter said was a lie!” He paused, a terrifying thought dawning on him. “Unless… she did it on purpose!” “She must have used some kind of drug to make her heart appear in its most perfect state, deceiving all of us!” Dr. Wyatt grew more agitated, as if trying to clear himself of responsibility through his words. “Once the drug wore off, the heart would immediately collapse! My God, this… this was a deliberate, mutually assured murder!” The word “murder” exploded like thunder in Arthur Valerius’s ears. His vision swam, and he staggered backward. Not fate, not an accident. It was her, this daughter he had never truly looked at, who had gambled her own life, a calculated murder of his only son. She hated them. Hated them enough to use her own heart as the weapon. Arthur Valerius’s throat made a gurgling sound, the blood vessels in his eyes tearing open inch by inch. He finally understood. He wasn’t the hunter. He, and his family, were merely prey in my trap, awaiting judgment. “Ah—!” He let out a strangled roar, rushing to my gurney, violently shaking my cold body. “Why! Why would you do this! I’m your father!” I really wanted to laugh. Father? Where were you during the eighteen years I was trafficked? Where were you when I was treated as a walking organ bank? Now, you ask me why. How ridiculous. Just then, Serena Valerius, who had been hiding in the corner, suddenly shrieked. “Dad… Dad… your phone… it’s ringing…” Arthur Valerius numbly pulled out his phone. On the screen was a newly received email. Sender: Your Abandoned Daughter. Email Subject: *Dad, My Final Gift For You* Arthur Valerius’s fingers trembled violently as he clicked open the email. Inside, there was only one video. He pressed play. My face appeared on the screen. It was recorded the night before the surgery. Video me, wearing a hospital gown, my face pale, but my eyes unusually calm. “Dad, Mom, by the time you see this video, I imagine Caleb has already received the ‘gift’ I gave him.” I smiled, showing a flash of white teeth. But that smile, in their eyes, was chillingly sinister. “You must be wondering why I hate you so much.” “After all, you gave me life, didn’t you?” My voice was soft, but every word felt like a poisoned steel needle. “Don’t worry, I’ll soon…” “Tell you the answer.”

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The young couple next door. They kept me up every single night with their loud moaning and yelling. I tried asking nicely, screaming at them, even calling the cops. Nothing worked. So, I started hitting on the wife. On Valentine’s Day, I specifically slipped a note into a bouquet of roses: Your husband hasn’t found out about us yet, has he? And then, her husband absolutely lost it. 0 I’d just moved into my new place. My neighbors were a middle-aged couple. I hadn’t even met them yet, but I knew their relationship had to be rock solid. How did I know? I heard it. Every night, usually around midnight, they’d get up to some activities that perfectly aligned with biological spring mating rituals. My apartment building has paper-thin walls. Afterward, I could hear the man light his cigarette, the click of the lighter as clear as day. I really didn’t want to be in a position years from now, looking at their future second child and saying: “You little brat, I practically heard you grow up.” Even worse was the woman. Her voice was incredibly hoarse, and when she got going, she sounded just like a duck. And her vocal cords? Pure sonic penetration. Every night, I’d be treated to her demonic, 3D surround-sound duck quacks: “QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK HA HA HA HA QUACK QUACK QUACK HA HA HA HA!” It was like being surrounded by a flock of Donald Ducks. One time, I had a nightmare. I was back in my high school final exam, less than a month before the big SATs. I grabbed the test, and holy crap, I couldn’t answer a single question. Cold sweat immediately drenched me. My strictest teacher glared at me, radiating pure menace, and casually grabbed a chalkboard eraser, chucking it right at my head. But as the eraser hit me, it turned into a duck neck. My teacher opened her mouth and went: “QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK.” The whole class turned to stare at me, and they too started “QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK”-ing. The classroom transformed into a giant duck pond, everyone rushing at me with their “QUACK QUACK QUACK.” I woke up in a cold sweat, my heart pounding like a drum. Next door, they were still at it: “QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK HA HA HA HA QUACK QUACK QUACK.” I stared at the ceiling, seriously considering writing a short story titled A Duck Pond Nightmare. The last time I heard such an abstract sound was when my desk mate was watching some fantasy show during study hall. He’d mimic the villain’s laugh, cackling “hee hee hee hee” at me. No, this couldn’t go on. If this duck-quacking didn’t stop, I was gonna croak. So, I knocked on their door. 0

The man opened the door. He was wearing just boxer shorts, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His chest muscles sagged, and his eyes were suspicious. He scanned me up and down, asking what I wanted. I started by expressing my admiration for their marital bliss and my awe at his stamina. Then I delicately suggested that I really didn’t want to hear their second child’s entire developmental journey from conception to birth, and perhaps they could try to keep it down a little. The man’s eyes widened. He barked, “Are you going to control the sky, the earth, and our private life too?!” From then on, we had a lively debate about each other’s family values and mental health. He graciously inquired about the state of my sanity. I, in turn, offered suggestions for improving his moral compass. Subsequently, he started making inappropriate comments about my female relatives. I, on the other hand, questioned his paternity, offering possibilities like the milkman, some random guy, or even the neighborhood stray, urging him to cooperate and verify it as soon as possible. To my surprise, he was completely ungrateful, rolling up his sleeves, ready to fight me. I was overjoyed. Tonight, I had truly met my lucky star! I saw dollar signs; a new luxury car was practically waving at me. I quickly stuck my face out, “Go on, hit me! Hit me! Please, I beg you, knock me out!” Just then, his wife rushed out of the bedroom, shoved him aside, and squawked in her duck-like voice, “Honey, we don’t stoop to the level of a psycho like him, QUACK!” Finally, they slammed the door shut, ending our friendly exchange. 0

A moment later, the “QUACK!”s resumed. This time, they were even more piercing and triumphant than before. If it was Donald Duck earlier, now it was a turbo-charged duck. I knew they were retaliating, so I recorded it and called the police. The officers arrived shortly. After listening to a chorus of duck calls with me, the officer rubbed his nose, suppressing a smile, and said it indeed constituted disturbing the peace. So, I returned with the police for a second visit. The man flung the door open, immediately yelling, “What the hell do you want now?!” I didn’t say anything. The officer showed his badge and stated: “Hello, you’re disturbing the peace. Please keep the noise down. Other people are trying to sleep.” The man finally noticed the police, his eyes wide. “You actually called the cops for this?!” I couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you just shut your damn mouth for once?! Can you please have some freaking manners?!” “Didn’t you hear the officer? You’re disturbing the peace, got it?” He was in the wrong, but his indignation was strong. “I can do whatever I want in my own home! What we do in our marriage is none of your business!” He didn’t say “what we do in our marriage,” of course. Let’s just say he used a much cruder term, but I’m keeping it classy for you. I said, “I’m not against you two being affectionate, but can you keep it down? Stop all that ‘QUACK QUACK QUACK.’ Is your wife a duck or something?” “You got the guts to say that again?!” I mimicked his wife, pinching my throat: “QUACK QUACK QUACK, you’re so good, honey, QUACK QUACK QUACK.” The man’s face turned beet red. He lunged at me, ready to fight. The police officers pulled him back. They took him aside, appealing to his emotions and explaining the law for a long time. But he was stubborn as a mule, insisting it was personal privacy and nobody else’s business. I got it then. The police could only mediate. With someone so unreasonable, I didn’t expect him to have a sudden change of heart or turn over a new leaf. So, I voluntarily signed the police report and sent the officers on their way. Sure enough, they quickly reverted to their old ways. I scoffed. When I try to be reasonable with you, you’d better be reasonable back. Otherwise, I’ll be even nastier than you. 0

I dug out a cardboard box. I put my subwoofer inside it. Then I stuffed three sides with sponges. The side not blocked by sponges, I pressed tightly against their wall. I turned the volume up to maximum. And started playing Buddhist chants. [Namo ratna trayāya. Namo āryāvalokiteśvarāya Bodhisattvāya mahāsattvāya mahākāruṇikāya…] As the solemn Buddhist music slowly flowed out, I felt instantly refreshed. My entire mind and body were cleansed. This was a place of Buddhist serenity. I wanted to see if they’d have the nerve to continue their antics in front of Buddha, Bodhisattvas, and all the divine beings. Sure enough, they too were apparently moved by the compassionate Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara. They stopped immediately. “Honey, it seems the Bodhisattva has manifested, QUACK.” [End of free preview. To continue reading, please subscribe!] “Manifest my ass! It’s that damn neighbor playing tricks!” Dave pounded on the wall, “Turn off that music! What the hell are you playing Buddhist chants for in the middle of the night, are you crazy?!”

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As I was washing Chloe’s underwear, I found a hole in it. A cigarette burn. But I quit smoking over a year ago. There was a tiny hole on the lace trim of the underwear, so small you wouldn’t notice it unless you really looked. With five years of smoking behind me, I instantly recognized that yellowish, charred circle. It was definitely a cigarette burn. My heart lurched. I’d quit smoking ages ago, and Chloe definitely didn’t smoke. Could someone please explain what the hell was going on? I stood there in the bathroom, holding the underwear, my mind racing. The more I thought, the more wrong it felt. And the more I thought, the more I felt my blood boil. Just then, Chloe sent me a SnapChat message. “Babe, I’m working late again tonight. You go to bed first~”

I pulled some strings to get Chloe that HR assistant job at a private company, mainly because I wanted her to have an easy life. But lately, she’d been working late constantly, not getting home until almost ten every night. I hadn’t thought much of it, assuming she was genuinely busy, but now… Something was up. Something was definitely effing up. Suppressing my anger, I replied, “What time do you finish? I’ll come pick you up.” “Oh, it’s fine, babe. You know, it’s year-end, we’re super busy. I have no idea when I’ll be done.” I immediately changed, grabbed my keys, and drove straight to Chloe’s office. The lights were still on. Standing at the entrance, I could faintly hear voices from inside. Was she really working overtime? I didn’t rush in. I pulled out my phone and called Chloe. “I don’t like you coming home alone. I’ll just wait for you downstairs.” “Didn’t I tell you not to bother?” “It’s okay, baby, I’m already downstairs at your office building.” Chloe’s voice on the other end of the line clearly changed, a hint of panic creeping in. “Huh? No, you actually came? What are you doing here?” What am I doing here? I’m here to see what *you’re* doing. I didn’t say anything more. After hanging up, I hid in the stairwell. A few minutes later, Chloe emerged, a man in a sharp business suit trailing behind her. They walked to the elevator and immediately embraced! The two kissed goodbye, clinging to each other. As he kissed her, his hands were all over Chloe, shamelessly exploring. Guessing was one thing, but seeing it with my own eyes? That was another. Rage consumed me, wiping out all reason. Blood rushed to my head, and I wanted nothing more than to storm out and strangle those two low-lives. Then I heard the man laugh. “Your boyfriend really has it bad for you, doesn’t he?” “Don’t even mention him! He’s such a persistent nuisance, always sticking to me like glue. Ugh, he’s such a buzzkill!” Chloe’s words hit me like a bucket of ice water, momentarily cooling my impulse to burst out. The man continued his lewd banter. “How about you just let him wait downstairs while we keep going?” “What are you thinking? He could come up any minute!” “Last time he called you, didn’t we already give it a try? What’s there to be afraid of?” “Ugh, you’re so bad, I hate you so much~”

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As the Quality Control Supervisor for an import company, before the upcoming long weekend, I had to finalize the inventory of our last shipment of king crab. The moment I stepped into the minus-eighteen-degree freezer, the heavy door slammed shut behind me. The alarm system went dead. Realizing the temperature was dropping, I immediately grabbed the emergency warm packs from my kit. But as I peeled one open and pressed it to my skin, a bone-chilling cold immediately told me something was wrong. I screamed, frozen, and through the walkie-talkie, I heard my fiancé, Mark, burst into maniacal laughter: “We’re live-streaming a challenge: locking the company’s ‘Ice Queen’ in the freezer to see how long she lasts!” His colleague, Chloe, who was on duty with him, chimed in with her syrupy sweet voice: “Anya, give a little smile for the folks in the stream! The top gifter wants to see it!” In an instant, I understood. They were live-streaming a prank on me. Not only had they locked me in the freezer, but they’d also swapped my life-saving warm packs for cooling patches meant to bring down a fever! I gritted my teeth, trying to stay calm as I pleaded with them for help. “Spare… the spare warm packs… give them to me!” Mark’s voice came through the walkie-talkie, utterly dismissive: “Oh, come on, Chloe gets awful period cramps, so she’s using all the spare warmers for her belly!” “You’re so tough, just jump around a bit and you’ll warm up! You might even get some donations from the big spenders!” I stopped arguing. With my numb fingers, I pulled out the flare gun, aiming it at the most expensive, mysterious cargo in the freezer. A vial of frozen sperm, worth two hundred million dollars.

The cold metal casing of the flare gun pressed against my palm. I held the barrel steady, pointing it at the silver metal container labeled “AF-001.” “Mark, are you sure you want to play this big?” My voice trembled from the cold, but my tone was unwavering. On the other end of the walkie-talkie, Mark’s laughter abruptly ceased. Then came Chloe’s panicked voice. “Anya, don’t be impulsive! That… that thing can’t be messed with!” “Oh? Now you know it can’t be messed with?” I scoffed, my breath condensing into a cloud of white in front of me. “When you locked me in here, why didn’t you think about the consequences?” Mark’s voice was still defiant. “Anya, don’t try to scare us! “It’s just a prank, isn’t it? Is it really worth taking it out on the company’s valuable cargo?” “Do you even know what that is, daring to point a gun at it? Put the flare gun down!” I ignored him, instead using my free hand to tap lightly on the metal canister beside me. The canister emitted a sharp, resonant clang, piercing the dead silence of the freezer. “That’s Ms. Sterling’s golden ticket to an heir!” “She spent a whopping two hundred million dollars to get that, all the way from an African tribal chief!” “They say it’s once-in-a-century elite genetic material!” “I’m the QC supervisor who personally handled the receiving procedures. So tell me, do I know what it is or not?” Silence crackled over the walkie-talkie. I could picture Mark and Chloe’s faces in the monitor room, suddenly drained of color. They knew the value of this thing better than anyone. The day it was stored, Ms. Sterling personally oversaw it, even demanding that the movers use brand new gloves. She’d said if even a single thing went wrong, everyone involved would vanish, permanently. Chloe’s voice, laced with tears, rang out again, as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice. “Anya, we really just wanted to play a joke, to lighten the mood…” “Who told you to always be so cold and distant? Everyone’s a little scared of you…” “Please put the gun down, okay? Mark will open the door for you in a minute.” The moment she finished speaking, Mark immediately followed up. “Right, right, Anya, we were just kidding. I’ll figure out how to open the door right now.” “Maybe the old lock’s circuits froze up. Don’t worry, I’ll go get some tools!” Listening to their coordinated story, the last bit of warmth in my heart vanished. Circuits frozen? This German-engineered cryogenic door can function perfectly in temperatures as low as fifty below zero. He thought I was an idiot. “Stop acting,” my voice was icy. “I’m giving you ten seconds. Open the door.” “Don’t forget, you’re still live-streaming.” “If Ms. Sterling sees her legacy destroyed because of you, do you think you’ll even live to see tomorrow?” “Ten seconds. Open the door. Now!” “Ten.” “Nine.” I started counting down, my numb fingers hovering over the flare gun’s trigger. Mark’s exasperated growl and Chloe’s sobs came through the walkie-talkie. “Psycho! Anya, you crazy bitch!” “Mark, what do we do… the chat is blowing up, the top gifter says he wants to see her actually pull the trigger…” “Shut up!” “Three.” “Two.” The second before I pulled the trigger, Mark practically screamed. “Stop! I’m opening it! I’m opening it now!” I let out a shaky breath, my body trembling even more from the sudden release of tension. But half a minute passed, and I was struggling to breathe. The heavy freezer door remained motionless. Through the walkie-talkie, Mark’s voice came again. “Oh, Anya, I’m so sorry.” “I was too nervous just now. I entered the electronic lock’s password wrong three times, and the system automatically locked itself.” “Now… we’ll have to wait for an engineer to unlock it.”

My heart sank instantly after hearing his words. The nearest engineer would take at least an hour to arrive. “Mark, you’re toying with me?” “How can you call it toying?” His voice held poorly concealed triumph, as if he were savoring my despair. “This is fate. Heaven itself wants you to cool down in there.” Chloe chimed in, feigning fragility. “Anya, since you can’t get out, why don’t you just cooperate with our live stream?” “Everyone in the chat says they want to see the Ice Queen looking pathetic in the freezer.” “The top gifter just dropped another ten thousand in digital gifts, saying if you dance ‘K-Pop Shuffle’ in there, he’ll give another ten!” I trembled all over, whether from cold or rage, I couldn’t tell. From the very beginning, they never intended to let me out! The so-called wrong password was just an excuse for them to buy time and continue their cruel live stream! “Mark, aren’t you afraid I’ll actually destroy this thing?” I raised the flare gun again, but this time, my hand shook so violently I could barely hold it. “You won’t.” All trace of panic had vanished from Mark’s face. He said with absolute certainty: “Anya, I know you too well. Your sense of responsibility is so strong, you put the company’s interests above your own life.” “Last time, to rush a shipment, you stayed at the warehouse even with a high fever. This time it’s the same.” “You wouldn’t dare destroy it. You can’t.” His words were like a knife, piercing my heart with brutal precision. Yes, he knew me. But he was using my sense of responsibility to condemn me to death. “And, I advise you not to do anything reckless.” His voice turned cold. “I’ve already reported to Ms. Sterling that you’re doing a routine check, and to ensure everything is perfect, you’ll be on duty in the cold storage area tonight.” “Ms. Sterling even praised your dedication and said she’d give you a bonus.” “If you dare touch that thing, how will you explain it when Ms. Sterling arrives?” Shameless! He twisted the truth, cutting off all my escape routes! If something happened to me in here, it would be a “dedicated” accident. If I destroyed the cargo to save myself, it would be “embezzlement and malicious destruction.” Either way, I lost. A chill rose from my feet, quickly spreading through my entire body, chilling me to the very marrow of my bones. I felt my consciousness begin to blur, my vision growing dim. No, I couldn’t die here. I leaned on the icy shelves, forcing myself to stand steady. “Mark… for the sake of us almost getting married…” My voice carried a hint of pleading, my last hope. “Just let me out, and I can pretend today never happened.” There was a moment of silence on the other end of the walkie-talkie. I almost thought he would relent. However, Chloe’s lighthearted remark shattered my illusion completely. “Oh, Anya, you don’t know yet, do you?” “Mark has already decided to call off the engagement with you.” “He said being with you was too exhausting, like trying to warm up a block of ice that just won’t melt.” “And…” Chloe deliberately drew out her words, her voice full of triumph and smugness. “I’m pregnant. It’s Mark’s baby. We’re getting engaged next month.” *Boom!* My mind went blank. Pregnant? Calling off the engagement? So all of this wasn’t a spontaneous prank. It was a premeditated murder. They wanted me dead. So they could be together, guilt-free. “Anya, don’t blame me.” Mark’s voice came again, cold and devoid of any emotion. “If you have to blame anyone, blame yourself for being so boring, so overbearing.” “Chloe is gentler than you, she knows how to treat a man better. Not like you.” “Just rest in peace.” “Your career, your love life, everything you have, Chloe will take good care of it all.” Despair, like a vast net, trapped me firmly. I slid down against the shelf, collapsing to the floor, my body’s energy draining away little by little. Just then, I heard footsteps outside the freezer, and a slightly older voice asking. “Mark, not off work yet? What are you doing in the monitor room?” It was Mr. Miller, the night shift security guard! A spark of hope ignited within me. With all my remaining strength, I grabbed the walkie-talkie and screamed. “Mr. Miller! Help me! I’m locked in the freezer!”

No sooner had my cry for help left my lips than Mark’s calm voice came through the walkie-talkie. “Oh, Mr. Miller, still on duty? We’re just working a little overtime here.” He seemed to have switched the walkie-talkie to a private channel, as Mr. Miller didn’t hear my plea. “Oh, Anya’s in there doing a final inventory.” “You know, the last batch of goods before the Christmas break. She’s so dedicated, she insisted on overseeing it herself.” “We’re just here to keep her company, in case anything comes up.” Chloe immediately echoed him with a sickly sweet voice. “That’s right, Mr. Miller, Anya is so dedicated. We all told her to rest early, but she just wouldn’t.” “She even said it was cool in the freezer, which helped her focus on work.” Mr. Miller seemed convinced, his voice full of approval. “Ah, Anya’s a responsible young woman. You two are working hard too.” “Alright, you carry on. I’ll go check other areas.” The footsteps gradually faded. My last shred of hope was extinguished by their casual dismissal. I slumped to the ground, staring despairingly at the tightly shut door. The walkie-talkie was switched back to the private channel, and Mark’s mocking voice came through clearly. “Hear that, Anya?” “Everyone thinks you’re a workaholic, a strong, independent woman.” “Even if you freeze to death in there, you’ll just be seen as a martyr for the company, a tragic example of dedication.” “You’ll even become a positive role model for new employees.” Chloe’s laughter grew even more unrestrained. “Anya, listen! The top gifter just shelled out another ten grand in digital gifts!” “He says if you kneel down right now and act like a dog, bark a few times, he’ll make Mark turn up the heat.” “What do you say? Thinking about it?” Humiliation, naked humiliation. They not only wanted my life, but they wanted to stomp on my dignity, crushing it to dust, before I died. I bit down hard, the taste of blood spreading in my mouth. My body grew colder and colder, my eyelids heavy as lead. I knew this was a sign of mid-to-late stage hypothermia. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before I slipped into unconsciousness, and then my heart would stop. Was I really going to die here? Die in a meticulously planned trap set by my fiancé and his mistress? No. I wouldn’t accept it. I *refused* to accept it! I used my last bit of strength, leaning on the shelf, swaying as I stood up. If they weren’t going to let me live, then we’d all go down together! With the last ounce of power in my body, I steadied my gun-wielding hand just as I was about to slip. I no longer aimed at the vial. Instead, I raised it slightly, aiming for the yellow, deadly insulation layer above the shelves. My movement seemed to finally make Mark realize something was wrong. His arrogant laughter stopped. “You… you’re really going to do it?” For the first time, a hint of genuine panic entered his voice. I didn’t answer him. I just pulled the trigger with all my might. “Bang!” A dull gunshot. A blinding red flash, like an angry fire snake, instantly shot towards the yellow foam! The next second, flames erupted with a roar! Chloe’s ear-splitting scream came through the walkie-talkie. “Fire! Ah—!” Followed by Mark’s horrified bellow. “Quick! Put out the fire! Damn it!” However, it was too late. The shrill, piercing fire alarm, echoing throughout the entire factory, was instantly triggered. Its sound drowned out all the insane laughter and screams. Polyurethane foam insulation is highly flammable. Once ignited, the fire spreads rapidly, releasing thick smoke containing highly toxic cyanide. This was the first lesson I learned during my orientation as a QC Supervisor.

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The day I left the hospital, Liam came to pick me up. He brought my favorite cake, and a divorce agreement. There was no trace of guilt on his face. “Chloe’s coming back from abroad, so…” I looked at the words on the divorce agreement: The company belongs to the man, all other assets belong to the woman and child. Perfect. Just what I wanted. But I still frowned slightly, feigning displeasure. “Liam, we worked so hard to build this company together over the years. Are you really so eager to kick me out?” Liam handed me the pen. “You know, we started this company to fulfill Chloe’s dream. So, everything else can be yours, except the company.” I snatched the pen from his hand and signed it immediately, terrified he might change his mind. Liam seemed surprised that I neither cried nor made a scene. “Four years together, and you have no lingering feelings at all?” I glanced at the baby in my arms, then smiled at him. “I wish you and Ms. Chloe a long and happy life.” After leaving the hospital, Liam couldn’t wait to drive me to the county clerk’s office. The moment I held the divorce certificate, I saw a happiness on his face I hadn’t seen in a long time. He looked down at me. “I still need to go home later to pack up my things and move out.” “Okay, no problem,” I replied, my voice gentle and calm. Liam stared at me. “You seem different from before.” “Different how?” I tilted my head, smiling widely at him. “I thought you would…” “Make a huge scene? Or cling to you and beg you not to go? Or use our child to desperately plead with you?” I chuckled. “Hurry home and pack your stuff. Ms. Chloe’s flight is probably tonight, right? Don’t miss her.” It was evening by the time I got home. The baby was sleeping soundly, soothed by the nanny. Liam looked at Leo, lost in thought. “Have you thought of a name for him?” I found Liam’s feigned concern amusing. His heart was already at the airport, yet he was still putting on this act of being a good dad for me. But I answered calmly, “Leo. L-E-O.” Liam furrowed his brows. “Leo? This is a Master’s child.” I smiled at him. “Master’s child? The divorce agreement clearly states the child belongs to me.” I paused. “But you’ll always be his father. When Leo grows up, if you want to see him, I won’t stop you.” Liam sighed, a flicker of guilt finally crossing his face. “Thank you, Aria. I won’t shortchange you two on his future child support.” “No need,” I firmly refused him. “I can afford to raise him. You should go pursue your own happiness first.” Liam glanced down at his phone. “Alright then, goodbye.” “Mmm, goodbye.” With that, I waved to Liam, then slowly closed the door. Finally, I was free of him.

After Liam left, I blocked him from all my contacts, then swiftly listed the three houses we owned online. Their total price was about 5% below market value. Soon, all the properties found buyers. I used the money from two of the houses to buy a new house in a good school district outright. The remaining funds I put into a bank account to earn interest, keeping a certain amount of cash flow to seize the right opportunity to rebuild my career. Until a strange number called me. “Is this Aria? This is Chloe.” Why would Chloe call me? I slowly spoke. “It’s me. What’s wrong?” Her voice was anxious. “Liam, he… he got into a car accident. My blood type doesn’t match his. Can you come and donate blood for him?” Are you kidding me? Liam and I had been divorced for almost half a year. I heard Liam married Chloe the day after we divorced. And now you remember me for a blood transfusion? Do you think I’m some kind of pushover? “I’m sorry, Ms. Chloe. Liam and I have no connection whatsoever anymore. You’ve got the wrong person.” Her voice on the other end caught, and she sniffled. “But I just got back to the country. I don’t know anyone else here. I only know you! Please, save him!” Just got back? Only knows me? Chloe’s audacity was thicker than rusted steel. “Ms. Chloe, you haven’t been in the country for a while, so you might underestimate our medical facilities. As far as I know, Liam doesn’t have a rare blood type. There’s plenty of blood in the blood bank. You should be looking for a doctor right now, not me.” With that, I quickly hung up.

Liam and I met on a blind date. I was 26 then, and my family was pressuring me to get married. Liam was the most eligible of all my blind dates. He was gentle, tall, and handsome, a master’s graduate from a prestigious university, with a紳士-like demeanor in every gesture. I asked him, “Is this your first relationship?” He seemed a little shy, lowering his head and smiling. “To be honest, this is my first time dating.” “First time?” Liam looked at my widened eyes. “Is it that hard to believe?” He then began to pursue me relentlessly. Liam hadn’t lied to me. He just hadn’t told me that in his heart, he’d always secretly loved another woman, his dream girl. After we married, Liam and I co-founded a film and television company. We started from scratch, and in recent years, the young artists we signed had begun to make a name for themselves. When we were registering the company, I asked Liam what we should call it. Liam blurted out almost immediately, “Let’s call it Dreamscape Media.” And I only found out the origin of the company’s name three years into our marriage. That day, he was completely drunk. The driver helped him upstairs, his意识 already hazy. In the three years we’d been together, it was the first time I’d seen him drink to such an extent. He kept mumbling, “Chloe, Chloe, I miss you so much.” Chloe? Who was Chloe?

I had imagined countless possibilities and prepared for the worst. Throughout the night, Liam got up to throw up several times, and I stayed by his side, taking care of him all night long. The next morning, Liam saw me dozing by his bedside and gently stroked my face, a pained look in his eyes. “You must be exhausted, honey.” I smiled. “Last night, I kept hearing you call out Chloe’s name. Who is Chloe?” Liam hadn’t expected me to ask so directly. He abruptly sat up in bed. After a long pause, he finally spoke. “Chloe and I don’t have the kind of relationship you’re thinking of.” “Then what kind of relationship is it?” I asked him. He lit a cigarette. “Chloe and I grew up together. She went abroad a few years ago. But don’t worry, nothing ever happened between us.” Disappointment coursed through me, from my head to my toes. I looked at the man who had shared my bed for over three years, and suddenly, I barely recognized him. I sneered, “So, all these years, you’ve been traveling to the UK for work trips just to see her?” Liam lowered his head in silence, not speaking for a long time. From that day on, Liam and I became strangers living under the same roof. But fate truly has a twisted sense of humor; two months later, during a check-up, I discovered I was pregnant. For the sake of the child, I considered giving him another chance because I didn’t want my baby to grow up without a father. When the baby was four or five months along, I showed him my prenatal check-up results. Liam’s eyes lit up with surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me about something so important sooner!” “Do you even care?” I shot back. “Of course!” Liam happily hugged me. “You and the baby are the most important people to me.” I looked at Liam. He wasn’t a good husband, but perhaps he could be an adequate father?

But as much hope as I had, that was how much disappointment I would face. Liam spent money to get me into the best private hospital. As my due date approached, I spent my days confined to bed, but Liam rarely visited. He always said, “With you gone, I have to manage the company. I’m too busy. I’ll come see you when I have time.” The day I went into labor, I almost had a difficult birth, staying in the delivery room for over ten hours. But Liam never showed up. After giving birth, I lay weakly in the hospital bed. Beside me was Liam’s assistant, Megan. “Congratulations, you were amazing, ma’am.” I smiled at her. “Where’s Mr. Master?” She scratched her head awkwardly. “Mr. Master said he had an important client arriving today, so he went to the airport to pick them up. He’ll come to see you as soon as he’s done.” I knew every important client of the company. I looked up at her. “What important client? More important than his wife giving birth?” The young assistant stammered a bit. “Mr. Master didn’t specify the details. You’ve just given birth and you’re still very weak, so please get some rest.” I looked at the young woman, who looked fresh out of college, and didn’t want to make it harder for her. “Mmm.” It was the third day after childbirth before I finally saw Liam. He brought a large bouquet of fresh flowers, presenting them to me. “You worked hard, honey.” Then he leaned down and kissed my forehead. He then looked at our son beside me. “My son looks just like me.” I looked at Liam and just felt disgusted. The emotions I’d been brewing finally erupted at that moment. My tears flowed uncontrollably, pattering onto the blanket, startling Liam. I sobbed, “Liam, where have you been these past few days? You don’t know, I was in labor for over ten hours, I almost died on the operating table. You once said that the baby and I were the most important people to you. Why couldn’t you be by my side?” By then, I was crying uncontrollably, but I made sure to cry even louder. I was putting on this whole show for Liam! Because only this way could I make Liam feel even more guilty. Already weak, my face began to turn pale from all the crying. “Liam, I can’t stop you from having someone else in your heart. If you feel like I’m superfluous, I can stop being Mrs. Master. But can’t you just give a little bit of your love to me and our child when I need you most, even just a tiny bit?” Liam frowned, his face solemn. “I’m sorry, Aria. I’ve failed you.” I turned my head, wiped away my tears, and then forced a strained smile at him. “Don’t say you’re sorry. You’re my husband, my child’s father, and the person I love most.” The words made me feel sick to my stomach, but they had the desired effect on Liam.

From that day on, Liam started visiting me and the baby in the hospital room frequently, acting like a good father. Except, every time he came, I would cry. I’d cry about how difficult things had been for me, how much I’d gone through by his side building his career over the years, and how much I loved him. Because I knew, with his personality, he would soon grow tired of it, and then he would yearn even more for his dream girl. That would bring him one step closer to asking for a divorce himself. And these words of mine were like a form of manipulation, ensuring he’d feel more guilty when he brought up the divorce, thus giving me more compensation. But what Liam didn’t know was that I knew about every single meeting he had with his dream girl over those months. Ever since I learned of Chloe’s existence, I had hired a private investigator. Every time Chloe’s plane landed, I knew. Finally, after I cried for 40 days straight, Liam finally exploded. He roared at me, “Aria, aren’t you annoying? It’s the same words every single day. You might not be tired of saying them, but I’m sick of hearing them! I never realized before that you were such a difficult person. Look around this entire hospital, is there anyone as unreasonable as you? You’re like some crazy, nagging woman.” Unreasonable? A nagging woman? I suppressed the fury in my heart and quietly asked him, “What do you want?” Liam was silent for a long time. “Let’s get a divorce. I’ll bring the divorce papers tomorrow.” With that, he turned and stormed out of the hospital room. But what Liam didn’t know was that I had already made up my mind to divorce him. Because, he couldn’t live much longer. My thoughts pulled back from the past, and I kept replaying Chloe’s phone call, wondering what her intention was.

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I took the fall for Seraphina Thorne on murder charges, vanishing overseas for ten years. Those ten years, I lived in shadows, unseen, like a rat in a sewer. On that snowy winter night before I left, Seraphina held me, promising she’d protect our family’s legacy and wait for my return, ready to marry me with all the pomp and circumstance we deserved. Over the decade, using the family’s core secrets I’d entrusted to her, she transformed from a marginalized outcast to the Queen of the city’s underworld, known as “The Thorn Queen.” The day I returned early, I clutched our only childhood photo, a corner of it faded yellow. I stood outside the private clinic she’d personally built for me, wanting to surprise her. She arrived, her stride powerful, still the same spirited and impressive woman I remembered. But by her side was a delicate young man, his features a striking resemblance to my younger self. She handed me a signed asset divestment agreement, her voice icy, a tone I’d never heard from her before. “He’s not well, he can’t handle stress. Is this money enough to buy you peace for the rest of your life?”

Behind me, my men were still Seraphina’s loyalists, the ones she’d left with me ten years ago, their only mission to ensure my safety. But now, they exchanged uneasy glances, looking from me to Seraphina, unsure who to point their guns at. Seraphina, however, seemed oblivious to the tension behind me. As if we were alone, she gently took Julian Hayes’s hand, her voice soft in a way I hadn’t heard in years. “Julian, don’t be scared. I’m just handling some personal matters.” She and I were once the two most insignificant outcasts of the Thorne family, clinging to each other for survival in the shadows. Whenever the main family’s kids bullied me, leaving me bruised and battered, she’d shield me. She’d always hold my hand, her eyes crinkling into a smile. “Asher, don’t be afraid. I’m here.” But now… She reached out, effortlessly disarming the dagger I’d hidden in my sleeve. Then she picked up the photo I’d dropped, gently dusting off the dirt. “Asher, ten years, and your temper is still as fiery as ever.” “Seraphina, I’m not well, I can’t take this…” I mimicked her tone, but before I could finish, she cut me off. “Get rid of it!” She shoved the photo back into my hand, then shook hers, as if she’d touched something disgusting. “Your things. Don’t pollute my sight.” Julian immediately rushed forward, spreading his arms to shield Seraphina. “Don’t you dare hurt Sister Seraphina!” Seraphina looked at him, a sudden smile gracing her lips, filled with a nostalgia I couldn’t decipher. She pulled Julian behind her, protecting him. “See? Asher Vance, I can’t abandon him. He’s too similar.” I instantly understood her unspoken meaning. Too similar, too much like the young me who, for her, would willingly charge into a den of wolves. So, over a decade of surviving by each other’s side, it all meant nothing compared to a mere “resemblance to my younger self.” She slowly pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, meticulously wiping each finger, then slapped a pregnancy test report onto my chest. “Asher, with this one, we’ve finally been trying for three years.” “Whatever happens to me from now on, it has nothing to do with you.” “If you don’t cancel this agreement, neither of you is leaving this door today.” I cut her off coldly. She pulled a pistol from her sidearm holster. The bullet grazed Julian’s foot, leaving a scorching mark on the floor. Seraphina’s face finally changed. She moved swiftly, striking my hand with a chop. A sharp pain made me grunt, and the gun clattered to the floor. Seraphina saw the red swelling on my hand. She pulled out a tube of ointment from a nearby medical kit, squeezed some into her palm, warmed it, and was about to apply it to my wrist. Over the years, taking care of me had become ingrained in her. But when I saw the boy behind her, glaring at me with venomous hatred… Seraphina and I, from this day forward, were truly over. I dodged her hand, picking up the gun with my other, unharmed hand, pointing it at the million-dollar crystal chandelier above. “Bang! Bang! Bang!” Amidst the deafening crash of falling crystal shards and the screams of the crowd, Seraphina’s face immediately darkened. I left her with a calm, chilling statement. “Go home. We need to discuss the details of our divorce!”

I waited for her for seven days in the Thorne Estate. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a divorce; she simply didn’t have time. Julian sent me another “battle report.” In the photo, he lay on Seraphina’s lap, as she leaned down, tenderly peeling an apple for him. Sunlight bathed them, painting a scene as beautiful as a picture. Ten years later, I stepped into this house I’d once risked my life to protect, but now as a defeated man about to be kicked out. I glanced at the photo, then handed it to Marcus behind me, my face devoid of emotion. “Find out which room he’s in. Hang him from the balcony for me.” “He stays there until Seraphina comes back to sign the papers.” The wind was strong that day, carrying the chill of early autumn. I watched Julian, hanging from the third-floor balcony, still cursing relentlessly. I pulled my trench coat tighter. Marcus carefully held a black umbrella over my head. Julian, still dangling upside down outside the third-floor balcony, continued to curse obscenely. My expression was indifferent as I quietly waited for Seraphina to arrive. “Asher Vance, how dare you do this to me! Just wait until Sister Seraphina gets back, she won’t let you off! She’ll kill you!” “If you know what’s good for you, just sign the papers and get out of the Thorne family! Stop clinging to Sister Seraphina like a parasite!” I didn’t bother to meet his gaze. It wasn’t until Seraphina’s familiar black Bentley sped into view that I pulled out the prepared fountain pen. Seraphina’s movements paused as she stepped out of the car, her face instantly grim, her gaze sharply piercing me. The divorce agreement in my hand fluttered to the ground, caught by the wind. I spoke, my voice cold: “Marcus, shut his mouth. Just don’t kill him.” “Enough, Asher Vance! He’s just a kid!” Seraphina’s voice trembled with a hint of desperation. The moment she moved closer, the fountain pen in my hand plunged violently into her shoulder. Scarlet blood instantly stained her moon-white trench coat, the color a searing pain in my eyes. “You know he’s just a kid?!” “Then what about our Leo?! He was just a baby when he died, wasn’t he?!” Seeing my near-collapsed expression, a flicker of anguish crossed Seraphina’s brows. Instead of retreating, she stepped closer, seizing my hand and pushing the pen deeper into her flesh. She unhesitatingly emptied a bottle of pills into her mouth, swallowing them down with her own blood. “Asher, he’s young, he doesn’t know any better. It doesn’t have to go this far.” “You’ve gotten your anger out. Let him down.” My hand, in the end, still trembled. The pen slipped from my grasp. The scar on my abdomen, left from saving her, began to throb faintly. Before, she protected me with her life. Now, she was coercing me with hers. I was utterly exhausted, waving my hand weakly. “Let him go.” Julian was brought down, soaking wet. He lunged into Seraphina’s arms, wailing, pointing at me, his eyes filled with raging hatred. “Sister Seraphina, he almost killed me! He even forced you to take those pills! Our baby… our baby might…” Seraphina, her eyes red, held him tight, gently comforting him. “It’s alright, it’s over. It’s okay if there’s no baby. You’re still young, we’ll have other chances later.” Julian fainted in her arms, utterly distraught. Seraphina carried him, hurrying into the car and driving away. The divorce agreement I’d thrown on the ground was run over by her speeding tires, splattered with mud. The divorce still didn’t happen. Leo’s memorial day was approaching, and I didn’t want any more disruptions. But Julian, once again, proactively provoked me. He sent a package, inside only a small card. “So what if you made me lose a baby? Sister Seraphina will just compensate me twofold, and you, you’ll never get close to her again!” Along with the card, another item fell out. It was the jade amulet I’d personally made for Leo, crafted from the only piece of precious jade my mother left behind. It should have been enshrined in Leo’s memorial hall, accompanying the eternal flame that never died out. How did it end up in Julian Hayes’s hands?

I led my men, rushing to the memorial hall as fast as possible. The door to the hall was ajar, and I saw the scene inside at a glance. Clutching the cold jade amulet, I stood quietly outside the door, listening to Julian’s sobbing accusations from within. “Sister Seraphina, why aren’t you avenging me?! Killing that maniac would be nothing but lifting a finger for you! Why aren’t you doing it?!” “Kill him! Go kill him now!” Seraphina let him pound her chest, like a statue devoid of pain, until his voice grew hoarse from crying. “Sister Seraphina, that was our baby, the one we waited three whole years for.” Three years? My heart was heavily struck by that number. That was the period when, to put her mind at ease, I voluntarily underwent “body conditioning” treatment, temporarily losing my fertility. Seraphina knelt beside Julian’s bed, tightly holding his trembling hand, tenderly kissing his forehead. “Julian, we’ll have a baby. We definitely will, again.” The soft light fell upon them, a scene that mirrored exactly how she used to comfort me after Leo’s death, when I was tormented by nightmares night after night. “Tomorrow is Leo’s memorial day. I’ll take you to the eternal flame again to pray. It will definitely work.” “Clatter—” The jade amulet in my hand dropped to the floor. Three years ago, Seraphina was cornered by Elias Sterling’s forces. To save her… I entrusted our newborn Leo, barely a month old, to his nanny, then led the bodyguards she’d left me, carving a path of blood for her. She survived. My Leo, however, died that very night. Holding his cold, lifeless body. I felt like my entire world had crumbled. To soothe me, Seraphina didn’t hesitate to kneel through every church and monastery in the region’s outskirts. She eventually lit an eternal flame for Leo in this memorial hall. She said that if the eternal flame burned for a thousand days and nights, our Leo could reincarnate and return to us. But my destiny supposedly clashed with Leo’s, requiring me to take a fertility-suppressing medicine to accumulate spiritual blessings for him. I didn’t believe in ghosts or gods, but I believed in her. That bitter herbal concoction, I drank it for three years straight, ignoring every rumor and piece of gossip. But it turned out, it was all a lie. She just… didn’t want another child of mine. The sharp sound startled the two inside. The moment Seraphina turned her head, a fruit knife from the table grazed my cheek, embedding itself deeply into the door panel behind me. She rushed towards me, grabbing my shoulders, her voice laced with an almost imperceptible tremble. “Asher, are you alright? Are you hurt?” I didn’t answer her. I raised my hand, pulled out the knife, and plunged it back into her brow bone. The tip of the knife was less than an inch from her eye. There, a faint scar remained. It was from when she was eighteen, fighting a wolfhound starved for three days in Elias Sterling’s underground fight club, all to get medicine for me. She was almost blind in one eye then, but when she returned with the medicine, she smiled more brightly than anyone. Because I was saved. I wouldn’t die. I was a sobbing mess then, lunging at Elias Sterling and biting him with all my might, only to be kicked away, sent sprawling across the floor. Scarlet blood streamed down Seraphina’s brow bone, blurring the expression in her eyes. Yet her hand instinctively remained at my back, protecting me from being scratched by a protruding nail on the door. I couldn’t stop my eyes from reddening, but the hand holding the knife was steady as a rock. “Seraphina Thorne, you should know, Leo is my only bottom line.” I could care less about anything else in this world, but that child… The moment I chose to save Seraphina, I had already given him up. What a well-behaved child he was, his small face pale with fear when I handed him over from my arms, yet he didn’t cry a single sound. Seraphina didn’t move, nor did she explain. She let me use the knife’s tip to reopen the old scar on her brow bone, new injury covering the old, leaving no trace of how it once looked. Julian, however, shrieked and rushed forward, violently shoving me aside, then picked up the fallen knife, aiming to stab me in the heart. I kicked him away, picked up the jade amulet, and pressed my gun to his forehead. The young man, who moments ago was as fierce as a cub, immediately shrieked and latched onto Seraphina’s waist. “Sister Seraphina, save me! This lunatic is trying to kill me!” Seraphina, who had been unresponsive, finally frowned, her face darkening as she looked at me. “Asher Vance, I thought you had caused enough trouble.” “You don’t want a divorce, yet you expect me to watch you kill him. Seraphina Thorne, is your husband really that easy to bully?” I smiled, cocking the gun with one hand. “My wife, canoodling with another man in my son’s memorial hall. A single stab, and it’s over? That’s not how things work in this city.” Before I could pull the trigger, the entire memorial hall was instantly surrounded by Seraphina’s men. Dark muzzles of guns were aimed directly at me. I remembered, the last time she’d assembled such a large force was three years ago, against her arch-nemesis, Elias Sterling. Nearly a hundred men encircling us made my dozen bodyguards seem so outnumbered. Seraphina casually wiped the blood from her face, her blood-stained hand pressing against the muzzle of my gun. Her gaze fell on the jade amulet tightly clutched in my hand, her voice cold and hard as iron. “If you don’t like it, I won’t let him come here again.” “Asher Vance, know when to stop.” I stared at her intently, then at the trembling young man behind her, and smiled as I pulled the trigger. “Click.” An empty click. My gun was out of bullets. Seraphina’s brow twitched. She seemed to sigh in relief, taking a step towards me.

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My CEO wife, Vivian Hayes, believed her three months of the silent treatment had finally worked when she learned I’d willingly handed over a multi-million dollar project to her favorite young assistant. She beamed with joy, eagerly suggesting an Iceland honeymoon. But her assistant, Julian Chase, was furious when he found out, threatening to quit the company. Vivian, who had always doted on him, panicked. After three days and nights of soothing him, she ditched our honeymoon again, citing a business trip, and gave her ticket to Julian instead. Later, she casually explained to me, “Personal feelings are secondary, Caleb. Work comes first. As a boss, I have to prioritize the company.” “You’re my husband; you should understand, right?” I glanced at Julian’s latest SnapChat post on my phone—a cozy couple’s photo of them, heads touching, flashing a heart sign. I said nothing, just nodded. Vivian thought I’d become more understanding and generous, which pleased her immensely. She even promised me an even more romantic honeymoon when she got back. But what she didn’t know was, I had already submitted my resignation, and she had already signed our divorce papers. She and I, we had no future left.

On the second day of Vivian and her assistant Julian’s “honeymoon,” I completed all my work handovers and processed my resignation with HR. Less than ten minutes later, Vivian’s “Approved” notification popped up. “Looks like Ms. Hayes wanted to fire him a long time ago. Good thing he knew when to leave.” “Right? After all, staying here would only upset Ms. Hayes. Better to leave early. Wonder what he’ll do next.” “Why are we, minimum wage earners, worrying about him? He’s Ms. Hayes’s husband, for crying out loud. Even if he just quits and stays home, he’ll have more money than he can spend.” As I packed my things, my colleagues were gossiping and smirking, clearly enjoying my downfall. I was used to it. Everyone knew Julian and I didn’t get along, and Vivian, my wife, openly favored Julian, often publicly embarrassing me for his sake. Because of this, they’d compete to undermine me, hoping to curry favor with Julian. I scoffed. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m moving to a new company. They’re hiring me at double the salary, and the benefits are much better than here.” Without a glance at their envious expressions, I grabbed my packed personal items and walked out of the office. As soon as I stepped out the main door, my phone rang. It was Vivian. I’d been wondering how to explain my resignation, but when I answered, Vivian said, “I just sent you a file. Get it done and back to me within the hour.” She still didn’t know I’d quit. I let out a mirthless chuckle, opening the file. It was the very project I’d recently handed over to Julian. Just as always. Julian would get the credit and the glory; I’d do the legwork, and if anything went wrong, I’d take the fall. Initially, I had refused. But Vivian would try every trick in the book to persuade me. If I remained adamant, she’d give me the cold shoulder, deliberately staying up late to work on it herself. I couldn’t bear to see her struggle, so I’d always take it on in the end. I used to believe Vivian would eventually understand my genuine efforts. But this time, when she had a massive fight with me for Julian’s promotion, leading to three months of the silent treatment—even when my fever hit 104 degrees Fahrenheit and I was hospitalized, she refused to visit me, just to force me to give Julian the multi-million dollar project I’d spent a month securing—that was when my last shred of hope died. “I’m not in the office,” I replied blandly. “Not in the office?” Vivian’s voice instantly turned icy. “I believe it’s working hours, isn’t it, Caleb Stone? Do you know that unauthorized absence during work hours results in a day’s pay deduction according to company policy?” “I know, but I’ve already…” Just as I was about to reveal my resignation, I heard Julian’s gentle voice from her end. “Vivian, sweetie, if Caleb isn’t willing, don’t force him. I can do it.” “No, you stayed up so late yesterday; you absolutely need to rest today.” Vivian’s tone was incredibly soft. A complete contrast to how she’d just spoken to me. Julian continued to insist he wasn’t tired, but Vivian was firm: “I’m the boss. My order for you to rest is non-negotiable. Do you dare disobey me?” Julian playfully stuck out his tongue. “I just feel bad for Caleb.” “Is he as tired as you? You’re on business trips, managing contracts, while he just sits around doing nothing all day. Besides, he’s my husband, isn’t it his duty to put in some effort?” Vivian scoffed. With one sentence, she erased all my hard work. I no longer felt the initial anger, jealousy, or despair; I just felt numb. It had happened too many times. Seeing my silence, Vivian assumed I’d agreed, and her tone softened a bit. “Caleb, do you truly think I’m just giving you work? I’m trying to challenge you. You’re my husband; you should have more responsibility and drive for the company.” “You should learn from Julian. He worked until 4 AM yesterday. I’ve never seen someone so young, so talented, and so dedicated.” Julian chuckled in the background. “I think Caleb is quite talented too.” His words, however, were laced with thinly veiled disdain. Vivian didn’t catch it, letting out a dismissive laugh. “If he had half your talent, I’d wake up smiling every day.” “Don’t forget, you’re the one who completed all the projects this year.” The two of them chattered, back and forth. I remained silent, unwilling to argue. Julian had poached all those projects from me this year. Vivian knew it perfectly well, yet pretended to be oblivious. She simply believed that after five years of marriage, I wouldn’t divorce her over such trivial matters. “Alright, Julian and I have a client dinner later. Finish that up and send it over as soon as possible.” With that, without waiting for my reply, Vivian hung up. But less than two minutes later, my phone buzzed twice. It was Julian’s new SnapChat post. They were seated across a lavish candlelit dinner. Vivian playfully leaned her head on Julian’s shoulder, and in front of Julian sat a small, elegant gift box—just the right size for a ring. I scrolled down further, seeing Julian’s post from last night. At 4 AM, he and Vivian were still deep into their drinks at a bar, clearly having a blast. So, Vivian’s definition of Julian’s “effort” was drinking. And their “client dinner” later was actually a date. I let out a bitter laugh, not bothering to confront Vivian. It was pointless. She’d always have endless excuses. Even if I cornered her with my questions, leaving her speechless, I wouldn’t get an apology or remorse. Instead, I’d face another endless cold war. Every time that happened, I’d have to find ways to appease her. Now, thinking about it, I realized I could have spent that time working harder, figuring out how to make more money. Hearts can betray you, but money never will. With that thought, I left the company, mulling over my next steps. But just as my car pulled out of the parking lot, my phone buzzed twice. I opened it. A payment notification. Vivian had just dropped another twenty grand on my card.

Everyone thought I was with Vivian for her money. But in reality, she held all my cards. She claimed her personal funds were tied up in the company, so for years, all our expenses and my side-hustle income went towards our shared life. I believed a man should contribute more to the family, so I never argued with her about it. It wasn’t until recently that I realized, despite my high income, I never seemed to save a dime, always feeling like I was running short. I couldn’t help but check my bank statements. That’s when I discovered Vivian regularly used my card to buy gifts for Julian. She’d bought him a gaming console worth hundreds, a suit costing thousands, and even shelled out tens of thousands to book a five-star hotel for his birthday. Yet, for years, she wouldn’t even spring for new underwear for me after two months. Anything over a hundred dollars, she’d fuss about it being too expensive, opting instead to give me a handwritten card, saying she wanted to save money for our future. I couldn’t help but confront her about it. Vivian’s face darkened. She accused me of not trusting her, then gave me the silent treatment, vowing never to use my money again. Thinking about that, I still called Vivian. I tried more than a dozen times, but she didn’t pick up. Seeing this, I didn’t hesitate. I drove straight to the bank and canceled my card. Less than a minute later, Vivian called back. “I was busy earlier, didn’t see your calls. What’s wrong?” she asked, feigning innocence. My voice was calm. “It’s nothing now.” “Oh.” “Your card seems to have an issue; it’s frozen,” she said. “I know.” I didn’t hide it, confessing directly: “I froze it.” “Why would you freeze your card for no reason? Just for fun?” “Let’s just say. But didn’t you say you’d never touch my card again?” Vivian choked. I had never argued with her about money before. Soon after the company launched, I fell seriously ill, needing a sixty-thousand-dollar surgery. Right then, she secretly invested all our savings into a project and lost every last cent. She thought I’d be angry, crying and apologizing to me. But I just comforted her, telling her money was trivial, and my funds were always hers to use first. I thought being open and honest would strengthen our bond, but all it did was give her permission to be completely reckless. Vivian, however, didn’t seem to overthink it. After two seconds of silence, she sighed. “Alright, I get it. You’re still mad I didn’t go on our honeymoon with you, so you’re throwing a tantrum.” “Caleb Stone, I thought you’d finally grown up, but you’re still so petty.” “I promise, after this, I’ll drop everything and go on our honeymoon with you, okay?” “I didn’t bring my cards on this trip. Go unfreeze your card now, don’t be childish. This client dinner later is really important.” “I’m giving you ten minutes, or I’ll be really mad.” As if worried I wouldn’t cooperate, Vivian added a threatening remark before hanging up. In the past, whenever she said she was angry, I would dutifully comply. But she didn’t seem to realize I wasn’t afraid of her anger; I just thought she was already stressed with the company, and I didn’t want to upset her further. Now I understood that I’d tried my best to ease her burden, but her troubles were almost always self-inflicted. If that was the case, why should I bother? “If you didn’t bring your bank card, you can ask your secretary, or even Julian. After all, this business trip is for his project; it wouldn’t be out of line for him to cover the expenses.” After sending her that message, I turned off my phone and drove home to pack. I’d paid for the house outright—her dream layout, her preferred floor. Initially, I’d planned to put her name on the deed too, but by some strange, unexplainable impulse, I kept it solely in my name. Looking back, I was so glad I’d kept a backup plan for myself. After packing my belongings, I listed the house with a real estate agent. The next day, I went to the county clerk’s office and handed the signed divorce papers to the clerk. When I first had her sign the agreement, I was still contemplating how to explain it to Vivian. But she was in such a hurry to grab her luggage and leave that day, she didn’t even glance at it, just flipped straight to the last page and scribbled her signature. “Just take a look,” I’d said, holding onto a sliver of hope. “No need. You’re my husband, why wouldn’t I trust you?” I gave a bitter laugh. Her trust in me back then was less than her trust in Julian. Her so-called trust was just her wanting to quickly dismiss me so she could rush to catch her flight and go on “honeymoon” with Julian. But it also saved me from wasting my breath. However, after I submitted the documents, the clerk informed me that they still needed confirmation from both parties that the marriage had irretrievably broken down before processing the divorce. I showed them the sweet photos Vivian and Julian had taken, and the photos of our wedding portrait she had smashed because of Julian, but the clerk still shook their head. “We need direct verbal confirmation from both parties.” Frustrated, I turned my phone back on. As soon as it booted up, countless missed calls and unread messages from Vivian flooded in. Because I hadn’t unfrozen my card, she’d tried everything from begging to reasoning, and the last message completely ripped into me, threatening divorce. I showed the messages to the clerk. The clerk still shook their head. Left with no other choice, I dialed her number. It took a long time for her to answer. “Vivian, our relationship—” “Relationship? What relationship? Nothing you say now matters! I’m divorcing you, and that’s final!” Vivian, assuming I was trying to win her back as usual, coldly cut me off, then hung up. The clerk finally believed me, looking at me with a sympathetic gaze. They submitted the documents, telling me the divorce certificate would be issued in a month. I knew Vivian’s talk of divorce wasn’t genuine; it was just a threat. In the past, whenever I upset her, she’d often say it. I’d always be the one who couldn’t bear it, relentlessly apologizing and caving to her every demand to make her drop the idea of divorce. She had me completely cornered, knowing I’d never want a divorce, and this had become her ultimate trump card. She thought threatening me with divorce would always get her what she wanted. But she seemed to have forgotten: Love, I realized, was like money in a bank account. If you only withdraw and never deposit, eventually, it runs dry. Because I listed the house at a very reasonable price, it sold in less than a week. I went to the real estate office, signed the contract, and set a handover date with the buyer. When I returned home, As soon as I pushed open the door, I heard laughter and chatter from inside.

The matching couple’s slippers I kept by the door were gone. In their place were a pair of men’s dress shoes and the heels Vivian loved, the ones Julian had given her for her birthday. It hit me then: Vivian and Julian were inside. Weren’t they supposed to be back in two days? As I pondered this, Julian heard the noise and walked out, wearing my slippers and even my pajamas. He had a languid, proprietary air, as if he owned the place. “Caleb, what are you doing back so early? I thought the company hadn’t closed for the day yet.” As he spoke, he deliberately flicked cigarette ash into my water glass beside him. I recognized it. It was one of the matching couple’s mugs Vivian had given me. I used to cherish it, often cradling it in my hands. Vivian emerged from the living room then. She saw Julian using my mug as an ashtray, but merely pretended not to notice. She, who used to gag at the slightest whiff of smoke and vehemently ordered me to quit, now showed not an ounce of discomfort. Being with Julian had indeed changed her significantly. When she saw me, her expression was complex for a moment. Then it darkened. “You skipped work again?” “Caleb Stone, even if you’re my husband, you can’t keep doing this!” “That’s the company, not our home. If you don’t follow the rules, how can I manage everyone else?” Rules? I almost laughed. When it came to breaking rules, who was a bigger culprit than Vivian Hayes herself? A year ago, soon after the company stabilized, Vivian made an unprecedented move, parachuting Julian—who had zero industry experience—directly into a management position. Though I was puzzled, when Vivian insisted Julian had great potential, I diligently mentored him. But Julian spent his days playing games and sleeping. After dragging his feet during work hours, he’d deliberately stay until the early hours, posting a ‘working late’ photo in the company SnapChat group. I reported it to Vivian, but she just brushed it off, saying he was probably just tired and needed to unwind with a game. I asked Vivian to keep an eye on him, and she said she didn’t have time. I suggested installing surveillance cameras, and she said it wasn’t legal. Later, projects began to fail one after another, costing us millions. Julian remained unrepentant, and I eventually lost my patience and demanded he be fired. But Vivian fiercely objected. Finally, she asked me, “Are you just jealous, afraid Julian is too good and will surpass you?” Julian stayed, and immediately began poaching my clients and projects. Vivian saw it all, yet turned a blind eye, instead praising Julian as an exemplary employee and holding me up as the ‘jealous colleague’ to be avoided. I used to feel wronged. But now, looking back, with that level of patience, I could have thrived at any other company, instead of being stuck in this mess. I didn’t speak. Julian gently patted her back, soothing her in a soft voice. “Maybe Caleb knew you were coming back and rushed home for you.” Vivian clearly believed him, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. “Fine, but don’t let it happen again. Still, how did you know I was coming back today?” Julian chuckled. “Vivian, sweetie, didn’t you forget? HR booked your return flight. She probably told Caleb.” Vivian scoffed lightly. “Caleb Stone, you spend all your time meddling in idle matters instead of focusing on work.” “But don’t think I’ll forgive you just like that.” “You threw a tantrum and froze the bank card, making me lose face with our partners. Julian had to go around borrowing money to settle the expenses.” Seeing my prolonged silence, Vivian thought I was reflecting, as usual, and her tone softened a few degrees. “I might forgive you.” “But first, we need to properly compensate Julian.” “His current apartment is being renovated and isn’t livable for a while. If you clear out this bedroom for him to stay in for some time, I won’t hold this against you.” I shook my head. “But I’ve already sold this house.” “Sold it?” Vivian’s eyes widened. Before she could ask, Julian quickly interjected, “Is Caleb going to sell this house to buy a bigger one to make it up to you, Vivian?” Vivian found this plausible, and her face instantly lit up with joy. “Indeed, we’ve lived in this house for quite some time; it’s time for a bigger one. I’ll contribute some money for it. Don’t sell this one yet; Julian can use it.” “Oh, that’s too much. How much is the rent? I’ll pay market price.” “Pay rent for what?” Vivian’s face darkened. “I’m your boss; do you think I’d make you pay rent?” “But that’s not right. No, the rent must be paid.” “Then a few hundred dollars will do.” The two of them chattered, back and forth, Vivian acting as if the rent was negligible. This house was in the city center, with market rent nearly ten thousand dollars. She found that negligible? Yet, when we dated, she meticulously calculated our shares for even dinner and movie expenses. The difference between being loved and not being loved was stark. “So, what do you say? If you agree, I might reconsider the divorce.” “No need to reconsider…” “How can that be? If I forgive you so easily, without teaching you a lesson, what if your bad habits resurface?” Vivian interrupted me, still thinking I wanted her to drop the idea of divorce. Julian giggled from the side. “Vivian’s right, but please, on my account, forgive Caleb.” “Besides, you and Caleb have been married for so many years; it would be such a pity to divorce now.” Vivian feigned contemplation. Julian simply reached out, gently swaying her, showering her with affection. Vivian playfully said, “Stop it,” but her face was beaming. “Alright, then.” She finally looked at me, satisfied. “Since Julian is also speaking up for you, I’ll forgive you this once.” “You should really thank Julian. After how you treated him, he’s still helping you out.” “Fine, then this divorce…” “You’ve misunderstood.” I cut her off blandly, handing her the divorce papers. “What I mean is,” “We’re already divorced.” Vivian’s smile froze. “What do you mean? You want to divorce me?”

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