My period was late for three months, and suddenly, I gave birth to a cute little snow leopard.
Looking at my boyfriend’s guilty expression, I smiled gently.
“Honey,” I said sweetly, “how many more surprises are you hiding from Daddy?”
1
Staring at the tiny, fluffy ball of a snow leopard curled up in the stroller, I took deep breath after deep breath.
Finally, I felt calm enough to speak. I looked at the man hanging his head like a thief caught red-handed.
“Leo,” I said, “you better come up with an explanation that earns you a key back into this house.”
Leo’s head drooped lower, his two round, white ears twitching nervously. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think the cub would be born without the ability to shapeshift.”
My fist clenched. “Is that the point?”
“Isn’t it?”
Seeing my expression darken, he quickly added, “Only cubs are this dumb! I’m not dumb! I shapeshifted super fast!”
I grabbed a throw pillow, ready to smack him. “Don’t you dare tell me our child’s IQ comes from you!”
2
I never thought I’d have a kid this soon.
To be precise, I didn’t even know I was pregnant.
Can someone explain how a three-month late period turns into a baby? Or, well, a cub?
How did I get pregnant?
And how did I give birth so fast?
3
Here’s what happened.
Last night, my stomach started hurting. I thought, finally, Aunt Flo is here.
I was about to make some hot chocolate to celebrate when Leo panicked and rushed me to the hospital.
I thought he was being dramatic.
Until the doctor didn’t ask questions, didn’t run tests, and wheeled me straight into the delivery room.
Seeing Leo locked outside, telling me not to be nervous, I started to panic for real.
I kept explaining, “I’m just having cramps! My period is late!”
They ignored me completely, methodically preparing for… a delivery.
I was changed into a gown, lying on the table with zero dignity, listening to them report “maternal vitals.”
I made one last struggle: “No, really, it’s just late…”
Wait. Something felt wrong.
Was I… actually pregnant?!
4
When I painlessly birthed a kitten-sized snow leopard, my first thought wasn’t to doubt myself or the world.
It was to look at the medical staff.
I expected screams. Horror. Panic.
There was none.
Not only were they not scared, they were cooing over the cub, who hadn’t even opened his eyes yet.
I vaguely heard their hushed, excited whispers.
“Why is the snow leopard cub so cute?”
“Way cuter than his dad.”
Great. Either I’m dreaming, or the world is ending.
Exhausted, I took one last look at the cub surrounded by adoring fans and passed out.
Good news: I woke up in a hospital room, not the delivery room.
Bad news: I wasn’t dreaming.
5
The more I thought about it, the fishier it got.
The past few months, I’d been moody and had no appetite.
Leo had been patiently finding all sorts of foods to coax me into eating.
It was hard not to suspect he knew I was pregnant all along.
I grabbed Leo by his round ears. “You knew I was pregnant, didn’t you?”
Leo has a gorgeous face and stands at 6’3″. A walking hormone.
Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been tricked.
Only after being tricked did I realize his brain operates on a different frequency than normal humans.
Leo covered his other ear, nodding pitifully.
You feel wronged?
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
Does he know the trauma of being wheeled into a delivery room for period cramps?
And then birthing a snow leopard?!
Does he know how much I doubted reality?!
Leo nuzzled my hand apologetically. “I was afraid you wouldn’t like him. But even though he can’t shapeshift yet, he loves you very much.”
I stroked his ear, forcing myself to push him away.
“What mother wouldn’t like her own child?”
Even if it’s not a human child, but a snow leopard cub.
Sleeping on his stomach… he really is cute.
If I hadn’t birthed him, I’d love him even more.
Seeing the hope in Leo’s eyes, I added, “However, the child’s father is a different story. I like him significantly less right now.”
The light in his eyes went out.
His ears drooped lifelessly.
6
I reached out and touched his head, expressionless. “So you’re a snow leopard too?”
Leo nodded.
Great. I need a cookie to calm down. I slept with an endangered species. Is that a crime?
Seeing my silence, he added, “But no one else knows. My security measures are excellent…” His voice trailed off.
I scoffed. “Excellent? So excellent that your Daddy hereâ”
“Let Uncle see the cute little leopard!”
The ward door burst open, and a crowd of people in white coats swarmed in.
Their expressions were… a bit perverted.
Especially the guy in front, practically diving onto the crib. He looked human enough, but his expression was weird.
I looked at Leo. “Your brother?”
He shook his head immediately. “He’s a leopard (panther), not as good-looking as me.”
I almost choked.
What leopard?
Was the world I lived in before fake?
Suddenly, my head hurt. Was I growing a brain?
7
Leo got nervous. “What’s wrong, Evie? Are you okay? Dr. You, come here!”
Wait, that leopard is named Dr. You?
Dr. You leaned over the crib. “Don’t panic. She has Postpartum Reality Dysmorphia.”
Such a long name. Leo looked dumbfounded. “Is it serious?”
He hugged me, choking up. “I’m sorry, Evie. I made you suffer. I’ll stay with you forever…”
His crying made my ears ring. My head spun more.
Dr. You rolled his eyes. “Loosen your grip. You’re crushing her. It’s not terminal.”
“Did you seriously not tell her your true identity before?”
A girl in the crowd chimed in, “No wonder she looked like she doubted the world after giving birth yesterday.”
I recognized that voice. The one who called the cub cute in the delivery room.
Okay. I’m not dreaming.
The world has gone mad!
I pushed Leo away and met the gaze of the white-coated crowd… staring at Leo.
He scratched his head. “I was too happy being with Evie, I forgot…”
My eye roll couldn’t be held back.
“You’re not a goldfish. How can your memory be that bad?”
Someone in the crowd whispered weakly, “Um… us fish actually have pretty good memories.”
“…” I almost choked on my spit.
Just as I was about to apologize to the fish-bro, someone challenged him. “Good memory? Recite the multiplication table then.”
Fish-bro got angry. “Dead toad! Go croak in the field, not in the hospital!”
Toad-bro snapped back. “You’re the toad! I’m a Golden Toad!”
“I’m not a toad, I’m a Chinese Paddlefish, critically endangered! What are you?”
Leo roared, “Quiet! You’re disturbing Evie! Get out, or I’ll eat you one by one!”
Silence for a few seconds. The white coats vanished instantly.
“Evie, did they disturb you?”
I was enjoying the show. I looked at him unhappily. “You disturbed me.”
8
“You like listening to me talk to you.” Leo propped his head on the bed, looking at me.
With that face right in front of me, my heart took a critical hit.
I sinned. I reached out my sinful hand and rubbed his ears.
Leo nuzzled my hand obediently.
Oh my god. I want to do unspeakable things to him!
Maybe my gaze was too hot.
Leo looked up, laughter spilling from his beautiful blue eyes.
He leaned in and kissed me.
“Hey! Watch the PDA!”
Dr. You’s heartbroken voice made me blush.
Leo was thick-skinned. He retorted, “Why haven’t you left? Have some shame! Why are you watching this?”
I buried my face in Leo’s chest, silently agreeing.
“If I don’t come, are you going to cure your mate’s Postpartum Reality Dysmorphia?”
Leo was silent for a few seconds, then shouted, “Then cure her quickly! You said you were a great doctor!”
“It’s a mental block! Any normal human who finds out demons exist would doubt reality!”
I lifted my head. “Demons? Demon what?”
Dr. You looked vindicated. “See? The dysmorphia is getting worse.”
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I walked in the door after working late, and my husband told me he was in love with someone else.
“I just want a divorce. I want to be with her,” he said, pushing a document across the table. “I’ll walk away with nothing if I have to.”
I stared at the divorce papers.
And then, a breath I didnât know I was holding escaped me.
“Fine,” I said. “I agree.”
It’s human nature to tire of the old and crave the new.
And I was no different.
1
Jason stared at me, dumbfounded. “You⌠you’re just agreeing? Just like that?”
A cold laugh escaped my lips, dripping with a sarcasm I didn’t bother to hide. “What did you expect?”
“Oh, right. Iâm supposed to scream and demand to know who she is, aren’t I?” I said, my voice sharp. “And then break down in tears, begging you not to leave? Begging you not to divorce me?”
I leaned forward. “On one hand, youâre willing to give up everything just to leave me. On the other, you want me to beg you to stay. So which is it, Jason? Are you trying to leave or not? Is your left brain fighting your right?”
He was speechless.
I ignored him, picking up the divorce papers and scanning them carefully. Seeing no issues, I reached for my handbag to get a pen. Jason had been in such a rush to drag me in here that I hadn’t even had time to hang it up.
Home from a long day at work, and not even a warm meal waiting. He hadn’t even asked why I was so late. Heâd just launched straight into the divorce.
I was done with these cold, empty days.
I pulled a fountain pen from my bag and signed both copies with a swift, clean stroke. Capping it, I stared down at the pen in my hand, its color faded and worn.
It was a gift for our first anniversary. Jason had spent half a month’s part-time pay on it. After nearly twenty years, it was battered and old.
Time for something new.
I dropped the pen into the trash can.
“We’ll get the paperwork filed tomorrow morning,” I said, and walked out without a backward glance.
2
I went to my daughter Maya’s room.
She had her back to me, burrowed under the covers.
I walked over and sat on the edge of her bed. “Don’t pretend to be asleep. I know you saw everything.”
After a long moment, she turned over and sat up. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
“Mom, Dad doesn’t want us anymore, does he?”
I sighed inwardly. At almost forty, Iâd seen my share of goodbyes and loss; I could accept this separation. But Maya was only twelve. In her eyes, her parents were her entire world. After Jason and I split, no matter who she ended up with, half of that world was going to collapse.
But she was a part of this family. She deserved to know about every change.
I told her the truth. “Yes, your father asked for a divorce, and I agreed. But we’re only stopping being husband and wife. We will always be the mom and dad who love you most.”
Maya looked at me, and tears streamed down her face like a broken dam.
“Mom, I’m so sorry⌔ she sobbed, covering her face with her hands.
The tears leaked through her fingers.
I was confused. Wasn’t that my line?
I gently pulled her hands away and wiped her tears. “What’s wrong? Why are you apologizing to me?”
Her shoulders shook with hiccuping sobs. “The last time⌠the last time Dad picked me up from school, he was with a pretty lady.”
“He said she was his assistant, but when he was driving, she kept leaning against him⌠and her hand was on his leg.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to hide it from you, I just⌠I didn’t know how to tell you.”
My hand clenched the bedsheet, my gaze turning to ice.
How dare he. How dare he flaunt his affair in front of our daughter.
I let out a slow breath and pulled her into a hug, my heart aching for her. “Maya, this is not your fault.”
“Anyone would be confused in that situation. If it were me, I would have done the same thing.”
Maya pulled back, her tear-filled eyes looking up at me pitifully. “Mom, do you still want me?”
I was taken aback for a second. I stroked the back of her head and smiled. “I think the question is, do you want to stay with me?”
Maya sniffled and nodded so hard her head bobbed.
I pinched her cheek gently. “Okay. You have school tomorrow, so get some sleep.”
She obediently lay down.
After she had drifted off, I turned off the light and quietly left the room.
3
The next day, Jason and I went to file the divorce papers.
Afterward, he started packing his things, getting ready to move out. Neither Maya nor I asked if he needed help. We moved around him as if he were invisible.
But that evening, when I came home from work, Jason stopped me.
“Your mother called me today.”
My heart jumped into my throat.
“She said your brother Ryan lost his job and she wants me to help him out, give him a position at my company.”
“It’s not a big deal for me, so I agreed. But I figured I should let you know.”
Before he’d even finished, I had my phone out, dialing my mother’s number on speaker.
She picked up almost immediately.
“Mom, Ryan needs to find a job on his own.”
“Jason and I are divorced. Don’t call him for things like this anymore.”
“Divorced? When? Why?”
“Tyner, youâ”
I knew what was coming next. A lecture about why I shouldn’t get divorced. She always did like Jason more than she liked me.
I cut her off. “Jason is having an affair. We are divorced. We are done. Do you understand?”
There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end. I used the opportunity to hang up.
When I looked up, Jason’s face was beet red. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be so blunt with my mother.
My phone buzzed. It was my mom calling back.
I declined the call and stood up to leave. If we were going to fight, I wasn’t going to do it in front of him.
But he grabbed my wrist. “Tyner, itâs just a job for Ryan. Itâs a small thing. You don’t have to refuse me and fight with your mom over it.”
I hated fighting with my mother. But I hated the idea of being indebted to Jason even more.
Before, he was my husband. We were family. Now, he was just the father of my child. Nothing more than a stranger.
I yanked my arm away. “I’ll handle this myself. Stay out of it.”
He blocked my path, his voice laced with a mixture of confusion and frustration. “You’d rather fight with your mom than accept my help? Why?”
I sighed, then let out a soft, sharp laugh.
“Do I need to remind you that we’re divorced?”
Jason’s face went pale. “Yes, we’re divorced, but we were together for twenty years. If we can’t be husband and wife, can’t we at least be friends?”
The idea was so absurd I had to laugh. “Friends with your ex-wife? Have you asked your new girlfriend if she’s okay with that?”
The color drained completely from his face, his expression crumbling. He just stood there, frozen.
4
My phone was still ringing.
I brushed past Jason and headed for the stairwell to take the call. The moment I answered, my mother’s shrill voice nearly shattered my eardrum.
“Tyner, tell me clearly, are you really divorced from Jason?”
“Yes, we are.”
Her voice cracked with panic. “How could you divorce him? He’s the CEO of a big company now! Where are you going to find another man that good, especially at your age? You’re almost forty!”
“Besides,” she went on, “what man doesnât stray a little? You just have to put up with it, and it passes.”
“Look at me, didn’t I put up with it? Listen to your mother, don’t get divorced. If you do, you’ll have nothing.”
I suddenly felt the sting of tears. An image of my philandering father flashed in my mind, his cold, indifferent face as he watched my mother beg him to stay.
I had urged my mother to divorce him. But she hadn’t worked since she got married. If she left him, she couldn’t even support herself, let alone my brother and me. So she stayed, practically begging him for money, refusing to let the other woman win. She wasted her life in that rotten marriage until the day he died.
A sarcastic laugh bubbled up in my throat. “So I’m supposed to be like you? Suffer my whole life?”
She went silent. When she spoke again, her voice was sharp with agitation. “What else can you do? Life is about endurance!”
“And what about your brother? What’s he going to do now that you’re divorced?”
I knew it. It always came back to Ryan. Jason was the son-in-law who made her look good, the one who had helped Ryan out of countless jams. She wasn’t about to let that go.
“Then why don’t you have Ryan go live with Jason? Since the spot for Mrs. Thorne is open, he can go for it.”
“Youâ”
I had no patience for her nagging, and even less for a fight. I cut her off.
“I am not you. I don’t have to endure anything. I can support myself and my child just fine on my own.”
“I’m informing you of my divorce, not asking for your opinion. And don’t worry, it won’t affect the monthly support I send you.”
“What you do with that money is your business, but don’t expect a penny more.”
I hung up, leaning my head back against the cool wall and exhaling slowly. But a tear escaped anyway, sliding down my cheek. I wiped it away before heading back inside.
That’s just how it is when you’re an adult.
Even your tears have to be shed in secret.
5
My mom called a few more times after that, always circling back to getting Ryan a job. But he was a grown man with two hands and two feet. He wasn’t going to starve. I refused to help. Realizing I wouldn’t budge, she finally gave up.
Jason moved out. The night he left, I heard Maya crying in her room. I didn’t go in. Kids have their own private worlds, their own griefs they need to process alone.
The days of the cooling-off period ticked by. Jason and I had no contact.
Until one afternoon, after a long meeting, I checked my phone and saw dozens of missed calls. All from him.
And a text message.
[I’m downstairs at your office. Come down when you see this.]
For Jason to show up at my work, it must be something serious.
I hurried downstairs. As I reached the lobby, I saw him pacing nervously by the entrance.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I approached.
He started to speak, but was interrupted by a colleague walking in. “Afternoon, Tyner.”
Jason froze, his eyes widening as he stared at me. “You⌠when did you become a Director?”
“Last year,” I said calmly.
“How come you never told me?”
I looked down. A few years ago, when I was promoted to Manager, I had rushed home, bursting with excitement to tell him. All I got was a flat “Congratulations,” and nothing more.
I remembered when Iâd made Assistant Team Lead. He had been more excited than I was. He insisted on taking me out to celebrate. Jason, who never spent more than twenty bucks on a meal, treated me to a huge lobster dinner that cost hundreds.
But when did it all change? When did promotions stop being a cause for celebration? When did wedding anniversaries become just a formal bouquet of flowers? When did we stop even saying “happy birthday” to each other?
We no longer went out for movies or walks on the weekend. Even eating at the same table became a silent affair. We stopped asking about each other’s work.
Besides our daughter, it felt like we had nothing left to talk about.
In a marriage like that, what difference did it make whether I told him or not?
6
A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I had no desire to get tangled up with him.
“You came all this way. What’s so urgent?” I asked, changing the subject.
Jason hesitated, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “My mom just called,” he finally said. “Her birthday is this weekend. She wants the family to get together for a meal.”
I raised an eyebrow. Heâd come all the way to my office just because his mother wanted to have a birthday dinner? I didn’t know what game he was playing, and I didn’t care enough to ask.
“Fine. I’ll tell Maya. You can pick her up then.”
I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm again. I glanced at him, then down at his hand gripping my wrist. He quickly let go, looking embarrassed.
“What I mean is⌠I was hoping you’d come too.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about? You haven’t told your mother we’re divorced?”
Jason looked pained. “Well⌔ he stammered, “can we⌠not tell her about the divorce just yet?”
His voice was almost a plea. “She has high blood pressure. I’m afraid the shockâ”
“And you didn’t think of that when you asked for a divorce?” I shot back.
He fell silent, looking down in embarrassment.
I sighed. After Maya was born, I was desperate to re-establish myself at work and was swamped. Jason was busy launching his own startup. It was his mother who had stepped in to help with the baby, saving us. It was only in the last couple of years, when her health declined, that she moved into a retirement community so she wouldn’t be a burden.
She had always been good to me. I respected her, and I didn’t want anything to happen to her.
“I’ll agree to this, just this once,” I said. “But you need to find the right time to tell her yourself, before the divorce is finalized.”
Jason let out a huge sigh of relief. “Tyner, thank you.”
I just gave a slight nod and headed back upstairs.
That weekend, I took Maya to the retirement community. Jason was already waiting for us at the entrance.
We went in together. His mother was overjoyed to see us. One moment she was pressing a red envelope into Maya’s hand, the next she was holding my arm, asking me how I’d been. The atmosphere was warm and happy.
Until a soft, sweet voice cut through the chatter.
“Happy birthday, Mom!”
We all turned. A young woman stood in the doorway. She looked like she had just graduated a year or two agoâyoung, beautiful, and full of life.
Jason looked like heâd seen a ghost. He rushed forward to block her from coming any further. “Chloe, what are you doing here?”
Suddenly, Maya tugged on my sleeve, her face pale. She leaned in and whispered, “Mom, that’s the young lady from Dad’s car. The assistant⌔
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1
At a critical juncture in the project, Human Resources, citing company policy, forced me to take my ten-day annual leave.
The multi-million dollar order I had been on the verge of closing? Gone. My boss, face flushed with rage, dragged me and the HR manager into his office.
âAt a time like this, who the hell authorized her vacation?â
The HR manager looked at him, the picture of innocence. âSir, itâs company policy. All employees must take their annual leave before November, or they forfeit their year-end bonus.â
It was like punching a pillow. The boss turned his fury on me. âAnd you? Even on vacation, you canât answer a clientâs email?â
I pulled out the disciplinary slip Iâd received last month for taking my work phone into the cafeteria.
âCompany policy states that work phones are not to leave the office area. Penalty: a five-hundred-dollar fine.â
My bossâs face darkened. âAre you two idiots? Canât you be flexible?â he roared. âThe rules are rigid, but youâre living, breathing people!â
The HR manager and I exchanged a look of helpless resignation.
âWe donât dare,â we said in unison.
I spoke up. âSir, last month on a business trip, I noticed a flight was cheaper than the train. I took the flight, but you refused to reimburse me because it wasnât in line with the companyâs travel policy. I ended up paying for it myself.â
The HR manager added, âAnd remember Kevin? He rushed out to meet a client without getting your approval first because it was an emergency. You docked his entire monthâs bonus for being absent from his post during work hours.â
âItâs not that we donât know how to be flexible, sir,â I concluded. âItâs that we canât afford the consequences.â
The boss waved his hands dismissively. âEnough, enough, youâre giving me a headache.â He sighed. âFortunately, the client was gracious enough to give us one more chance. Get back to it, prepare a new proposal, and if you canât close this deal, itâs your head on the chopping block!â
As I left his office, a colleague handed me an application form.
âAccording to company policy,â she said, her voice flat, âany employee who takes more than three consecutive days of leave must submit a formal request to have their work phone reactivated.â
I let out a long sigh. The approval process would take at least a week. At this rate, the deal would be dead and buried long before I could even contact the client.
So, application in hand, I knocked on the bossâs door again. But this time, I was met by the bossâs wifeâSeraphina Thorne.
The story went that she had built the company from the ground up with him. They were inseparable.
âWho are you?â she demanded, her eyes cold.
I respectfully placed the application on her husbandâs desk. âMrs. Thorne, hello. Iâm Sarah Miller, from the sales department. I just need Mr. Thorne to sign this so I can get back in touch with a client.â
She glanced at the form and snorted. âDonât think I donât know the rules. All applications must be signed by the department head before being submitted to the CEO. Youâre trying to bypass the chain of command, and I know exactly what youâre trying to do.â
So she saw me as a rival, did she? Lady, I just want to do my job, pay my bills, and go home. I really donât have the energy for anything else.
I looked at her, my expression a mask of sincerity. âIâm only trying to expedite this because the situation is extremely time-sensitive. I would really appreciate your understanding.â
Without a word, she stood up and slapped me across the face.
âI said no. The company rules are not just for decoration,â she said, her voice dripping with venom. âAnd weâre both women here. I know your type. Cut the act, or youâll be the one who ends up embarrassed.â
I cupped my stinging cheek, a wave of hot rage washing over me. But I knew that fighting fire with fire would only get me burned.
So I calmly retrieved the application from the desk. âYouâre right. If thatâs the company policy, then we should follow it.â
A smug smile finally touched her lips. âExactly. Now get out.â
After leaving the office, I took my time, enjoying a leisurely lunch before heading to my supervisorâs office.
His assistant frowned. âIâm sorry, heâs out of town on business. He wonât be back for at least a week.â
I put on my most disappointed face. âOh, what terrible timing. Well, Iâll just have to come back then!â
I walked away feeling a strange sense of lightness. After all, I wasnât the one with everything to lose.
Three days later, a furious Mr. Thorne hunted me down.
âThe client says they canât reach you! What the hell have you been doing?â
I pointed to the still-pending approval on my phone. âWaiting for my supervisorâs signature. After he signs, and then you sign, I can get my work phone back.â
He took a deep breath. âThen why didnât you just come directly to me?â
Just then, Seraphina walked up behind him.
âI tried to,â I said, my voice even. âBut Mrs. Thorne insisted that no matter how urgent the situation, company policy must be followed to the letter.â
Seraphinaâs face flushed. âDonât you dare slander me! You never said it was urgent! This is just an excuse for your own incompetence!â
Nice try, but no.
I gestured to my colleague, Chloe, at the next desk. âThe other day, I brought the application to this office. Mrs. Thorne stopped me. Not only did she refuse to help, but she also slapped me across the face. If you donât believe me, you can ask her.â
Hearing her name, Chloe stood up. âItâs true, Mr. Thorne. When she came out of your office that day, half her face was swollen.â
Unable to deny it, Seraphina resorted to a ridiculous defense. âFine⌠I hit her! But why didnât you dodge? Itâs your own fault for being slow!â
I let out a weary laugh. So now it was the victimâs fault. But this time, I wasnât going to let it slide.
After she hit me, I went straight to the hospital. The doctor said I was at risk for a concussion.
I handed the medical report to Mr. Thorne. His face turned as black as ink.
âAll of your medical expenses will be covered from my personal account,â he ground out through clenched teeth. âAnd Iâll give you an additional ten thousand dollars in compensation.â
Seraphina grabbed his arm, her voice shrill. âAre you crazy? It was just a slap! Why are you paying her so much?â
Mr. Thorne looked like he was about to break a tooth. âIf she presses charges, weâll be paying a lot more than ten thousand dollars, and you could be facing jail time.â
He was right. If he hadnât handled this to my satisfaction, my next call would have been to the police. But for now, ten thousand dollars for a slap seemed like a fair trade.
Seraphina shot me a murderous glare and stomped out of the room. Mr. Thorne started to go after her, but I stopped him.
âMr. Thorne, while youâre here, would you mind signing this? So I can contact the client?â
âYouâŚâ
He met my innocent gaze, and with a flourish of frustration, he scrawled his name on the form before rushing after his wife.
Phew.
Chloe let out a long breath. âIâve been waiting to see someone put Seraphina in her place for years. Next time you plan something like this, count me in.â
With the CEOâs signature, I finally got my work phone back. The moment I turned it on, a tidal wave of notifications washed over me. I found the contact for the client I had lost touch with.
âHello, this is Sarah Miller from Thorne Industries. I was wondering if you had some time this afternoon to continue our discussion about the partnership?â
He replied almost instantly.
âI have other plans this afternoon. Letâs do dinner. The Grand Majestic Hotel. This is your companyâs last chance.â
Suddenly, I had a new problem. Not the pressure, but the location. Company policy stipulated a client dinner budget of no more than one hundred dollars. The so-called reason was to control costs.
What can you even get at the Grand Majestic for a hundred dollars?
I had to swallow my pride and go to the finance department.
âHey, Brenda. I have a client dinner tonight, and he picked a rather expensive place. Is there any way you could approve a slightly larger budget?â
She looked up from her desk, her expression annoyed. âWhat are you people eating, gold? A hundred dollars isnât enough? No.â
I bit my tongue. Fine. Iâm just an employee. If something goes wrong later, itâs not on me.
Just as I was about to leave, Seraphina waltzed in, all smiles. âWhatâs going on? Why the long faces?â
Brenda shot me a venomous look. âItâs just Sarah here, making my life difficult. Says a hundred dollars isnât enough for a client dinner and wants me to approve more. Can you believe the nerve? What a waste of company money.â
I braced myself for another tirade from Seraphina. But instead, she slung an arm around my shoulder.
âBrenda, thatâs where youâre wrong. Sarah is one of our top salespeople! A budget increase is a small price to pay for a major deal. You go have dinner with the client,â she said to me, her voice syrupy sweet. âDonât worry about the cost. As long as you close the deal, the company will cover the entire bill, no matter how much it is.â
I had to pinch myself. Was I hallucinating? Was this the same Seraphina who had slapped me just a few days ago?
I mumbled a thank you and quickly escaped the finance office, feeling a massive sense of relief. But hey, an unlimited budget was an unlimited budget. No more penny-pinching for me.
I arrived at the private dining room at the agreed-upon time. The moment I stepped inside, a small child appeared out of nowhere and rammed headfirst into my stomach. The impact sent stars exploding behind my eyes.
âWhere did youâŚâ I started to snap, but the client rushed over and pulled the boy back.
âDid he hurt you? Iâm so sorry. My wifeâs out of town, and I had no one to watch him, so I had to bring him along.â
The clientâs son. Thank god I hadnât finished my sentence. âOh, itâs your son! No problem at all. Itâs good for a boy to be energetic.â
We sat down and got straight to business. I had done my homework, and the conversation flowed smoothly. Before the main course even arrived, Mr. Henderson announced that he was ready to sign the contract the next day.
I was ecstatic. I raised a glass of wine. âTo our new partnership. Iâll drink to that!â
The next morning, I dragged my hungover self into the office.
âGirl, you look like you got run over by a truck. Did you get into a fight last night?â
I shot Chloe a tired look. The only thing on my mind was getting that dinner reimbursed. Sixty-seven hundred dollars was not a small sum.
I knocked cautiously on the finance office door. âBrenda? Busy?â
She glanced up at me. âWhat is it? Spit it out.â
I laid the receipt from the restaurant on her desk. âThe deal is closed. If you could just reimburse me for this⌠Mrs. Thorne said the full amount would be covered.â
She picked up the receipt with a bored expression. Then her eyes widened. âSixty-seven hundred dollars! What on earth did you eat?â
Well⌠the client ordered. Itâs not like I could stop him.
She continued down the list. âA glass of juice for five hundred and eighty dollars? Was it made of liquid gold? And why were you ordering juice at a business dinner anyway? Was someone actually drinking it, or were you just padding the bill for a little kickback, Sarah? I think you have some explaining to do.â
Okay, now I was angry. She was accusing me of fraud. But I needed that money, so I took a deep breath.
âMr. Henderson brought his son with him last night. The juice was for the boy.â
CRASH!
Her glass shattered on the floor. âSarah, if youâre going to lie, at least make it believable! Mr. Henderson doesnât have a son! Are you admitting to falsifying expenses for a kickback? I could have you arrested for this!â
That did it. My patience snapped. Just because she didnât know didnât mean it wasnât true. âIf you donât believe me, go ask the restaurant. But thatâs your problem. My problem is that you need to reimburse me right now.â
My sharp tone made her face flush with anger. âDo you know who I am? How dare you speak to me like that! The company policy is a hundred dollars per meal. Thatâs what Iâm reimbursing you. The rest is on you.â
Sixty-six hundred dollars out of my own pocket? Not a chance.
I leaned over the desk, my hands planted firmly on its surface. âAre you absolutely sure youâre not going to reimburse me?â
She nodded without a secondâs hesitation.
The next thing she knew, I had snatched the receipt and was storming into the bossâs office.
He looked up, startled. âWhat are you doing here? Did you close the deal?â
I slapped the receipt down on his desk. âThe deal is closed. Now, are you going to pay for this or not?â
Hearing that the deal was done, a flicker of glee crossed his face. He picked up the receipt, but his brow furrowed when he saw the total.
Tsk.
âSarah, this is way over budget.â
Just then, Brenda rushed in. âMr. Thorne, Iâd like to report Sarah for submitting a fraudulent expense report to get a kickback. Just look at the details on this bill! Who orders a five-hundred-and-eighty-dollar juice at a business meeting?â
Mr. Thorne scrutinized the bill, clearly looking for any excuse not to pay. âThe authenticity of this bill is questionable. How about this: once the contract is officially finalized and weâve verified this receipt, weâll reimburse you the standard hundred dollars, and we can split the rest fifty-fifty.â
Fifty-fifty? Was he serious?
I struggled to keep my voice even. âEvery single item on that bill is a legitimate expense. The juice was for Mr. Hendersonâs son. If you donât believe me, you can verify it yourself. But I will not accept your offer. Are you planning to split the profits from this deal with me fifty-fifty as well?â
Mr. Thorne had the grace to look embarrassed. âItâs not that we wonât reimburse you, itâs just⌠this is an exorbitant amount. You should have checked with me before paying.â
âMrs. Thorne said the budget was unlimited as long as I closed the deal.â
Just as our argument was escalating, Seraphina herself breezed in, humming a little tune. âWhatâs all the fuss about? Why are we shouting?â
I tried to stay calm. âMrs. Thorne, you told me yesterday that if I closed the deal, the company would cover the full cost of the dinner, no matter what.â
She blinked her big, innocent eyes. âDid I say that? I donât recall.â
Brenda shook her head vehemently. âNo, you never said anything like that to me.â
Oh, I see. It was a setup.
I pulled out my phone and played the recording I had made of our conversation the day before.
Seraphinaâs sweet, encouraging voice filled the office. âSarah, donât worry. As long as you close the deal, the company will cover the entire bill, no matter how much it is.â
The faces of Seraphina and Brenda turned a deep shade of crimson.
âMr. Thorne,â I said, my voice dripping with false sweetness. âCan I get that reimbursement now?â
He waved his hand dismissively. âMr. Henderson will be here any minute. Letâs get the contract signed first.â
Fine. I could wait. I wouldnât let them derail this now.
We all filed into the conference room, where Mr. Henderson was already waiting.
âMr. Thorne, your Sarah is a real rising star. She has a bright future ahead of her.â
At the praise, Seraphinaâs face soured.
After some pleasantries, we got down to the signing. Just as Mr. Henderson was about to put pen to paper, his assistant burst into the room, his face pale.
âMr. Henderson, itâs an emergency! Your son ate some cookies from the break room, and now heâs foaming at the mouth!â
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I can talk to my husband from ten years ago.
He asked me: “Did I marry Lily Summers?”
I thought for a moment, then wrote in the diary: “No.”
The pen on the other side paused for a long time. “Did I achieve my dream?”
“Pretty much. Your team just won a top-tier aerospace award for propulsion systems.”
“So… am I happy?”
I looked at Ethan Vance, asleep on the bed after pulling a forty-hour shift at the lab. I wrote: “You’re doing okay. You have a career you love, and someone who loves you deeply.”
You just never really noticed her.
1.
“Who are you?” The handwriting on the page turned sharp, aggressive.
I hesitated, then wrote: “I am you, ten years from now.”
“Bullshit.” The reply was instant. “Prove it.”
Even through the paper, I could picture Ethanâs skeptical frown.
“When you were five, you found a book on rocketry in your grandpaâs study. You couldn’t read the big words, but you told him you were going to build a ship to Mars.” “Your high school physics mentor was Mr. Harrison. He said you were a genius, but ‘stubborn as a mule.’”
“Keep going…”
“You and Lily made a pact. Sophomore summer, youâd go to Appalachia to volunteer. Sheâd teach math; youâd teach physics.”
Silence stretched across the page. “Anyone could find that out if they dug deep enough into my background.”
I continued: “How about this?” “The guys in your dorm call you ‘God Mode’ because you never study but curve every exam.” “Once, you went to a LAN party at the cyber cafe. While everyone played League, you sat in the corner solving physics Olympiad sets and fixed the ownerâs server before you left.”
I flipped the page. “You were a Guaranteed Admit to MIT. You didn’t need to go to class, but you sat in the back row every day at 4 PM because Lily needed help with mechanics.” “Three months before graduation, your advisor told you to prep for the International Physics Olympiad. You bailed. You said solving problems wasn’t as fun as teaching her.” “You didn’t need to take the SATs again, but you did, just to sit in the same testing center as her.” “You handed your test in early and waited outside with two iced coffees because you knew she liked them cold.”
The reply came fast: “A reporter snapped a pic of me with the coffees. That was on the local news. That proves nothing.”
I scribbled furiously: “Graduation night. Bonfire party. Lily got peer-pressured into drinking three beers.” “You drank the rest for her without saying a word. When you carried her home on your back, she whispered, ‘Ethan, letâs go to the same college.’” “You sat on that MIT acceptance letter. When the scores came out, you saw hers. You declined MIT and enrolled at Georgia Tech.” “Your dad threw a coffee mug at the wall. He couldn’t understand why youâd tank your future for a girl.” “Your homeroom teacher roasted you in the group chat. Everyone called you selfish.” “You told them, ‘It doesn’t matter where I study, it matters who I study with. Lilyâs scores can’t reach MIT, but they can reach my future.’”
2.
The handwriting on the other end became frantic. “Stop! Who are you? Some kind of stalker? Is this a prank?” “Where did you get this diary?”
On the bed, the present-day Ethan groaned in his sleep and rolled over.
I wrote calmly: “I really am from the future.” “Freshman summer, you guys went biking in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Lilyâs chain broke. You gave her your bike and walked hers twenty miles back to town.” “When Lily got the flu, you climbed the dorm fence in the rain to get her meds from the 24-hour pharmacy.” “And you hate sweets. But every time she hands you a piece of dark chocolate, you eat it.” “Only the two of you know that, right?”
“Hahaha, I got you! You’re Lily! What kind of game is this?” His writing looked giddy now. “Okay, you got me. Only we know that stuff. So, who rigged this book? Is it Bluetooth?” “Weâre supposed to grab burgers at the dining hall after my final. Just you wait, Iâm gonna get you back for this.” “And hey, nice try saying I didn’t marry you. Impossible. Wherever Lily Summers goes, thatâs where Ethan Vance ends up.”
My eyes locked on that last sentence. The pen slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the floor.
I closed the diary and looked at the wedding photo on the nightstand. Me and Ethan.
Ethan, I lied. Iâm not you. And Iâm certainly not Lily. Iâm Sarah Jenkins.
You didn’t marry the love of your life. You married the woman who made sense. The colleague. The partner. Because Lily Summers stayed forever in that summer you loved her most.
3.
I first noticed Ethan Vance at freshman orientation. He was the valedictorian representative. He stood on stage, talking about propulsion systems, and the crowd went wild. I sat in the front row, dreaming that one day Iâd stand on a podium next to him.
His name was always at the top of the Dean’s List. Physics Olympiad Gold. Putnam Fellow. MIT Recruit. I looked at the rankings, counting the names between him and me. It felt like a galaxy.
Senior year, the gap closed a little. Iâd walk past his AP Physics class just to see the back of his head as he tutored someone in the back row. He never looked at me. In the story of Ethan Vanceâs youth, I was an Extra with no lines.
When college decisions came out, I saw the news. The “Genius Boy” waiting outside the testing center with iced coffee. Lily running into his arms. The “Power Couple” headline was everywhere.
That night, I changed my first choice from Georgia Tech to Caltech. A professor from Caltech had given a seminar once: “The US aerospace program is hitting a materials bottleneck. We need engineers who can solve it.”
I figured that was the best way to say goodbye. Go to the place furthest from Ethan Vance. Do the work we both loved.
4.
Caltech was a grinder. I got into the BS/PhD fast track. Labs, libraries, student council. My roommate called me a “perpetual motion machine.” I ate lunch with a textbook open.
Late at night, when the code wouldn’t compile, Iâd Google Ethanâs name. There were photos of him winning robotics competitions, looking sharp in a dress shirt, that same black watch on his wrist. Sometimes, Iâd re-watch that old news interview from high school graduation. I was a thief, stealing glimpses of a life I wasn’t part of.
5.
Until the summer of our junior year. My feed was flooded with a headline: [Hero Teacher Lily Summers: A Life Given to Save the Future.]
The video was shaky, shot on a cheap phone in the pouring rain. Flash floods in Appalachia. A mudslide tearing through a valley. Lily was soaked, shoving kids up a muddy embankment. “Run! Don’t look back!” she screamed.
The last kid froze, paralyzed by fear. Lily ran back. The mountain gave way. A wall of mud and debris swallowed the schoolhouse. She shielded the kid with her body, taking the brunt of a collapsing wall.
The footage cut to the aftermath. Ethan, kneeling in the mud. His hands were shredded, fingernails torn off, digging frantically into the rubble. Rain mixed with blood and tears dripping from his chin. “Lily! Why didn’t you wait for me?!”
The timeline on the other end of the diary… was just before that summer.
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1. The DM
When I got Sawyerâs DM, I felt a little guilty.
I thought about itâI did send the gift to the wrong person, stealing his thunder. Plus, in this livestream room, I had always exclusively tipped Sawyer. It was understandable that heâd be upset about me giving a Ferrari to his rival.
Heâs a heartthrob, right? A little temper is part of the package.
Just as I was about to send him ten Yachts to make up for it, a new notification popped up.
[System Notification: KU-Ace has followed you.]
Immediately after, a DM from that account popped up.
KU-Ace: [Thank you, sis. That was my first Yacht ever. Iâll remember you forever. <3]
I paused for a few seconds, clicking on the profile picture to zoom in. It took a moment to match the face with the heavy filters from the livestream.
Ace.
He was the guy Iâd accidentally tipped.
Zooming in, his face actually held its own against Sawyer, the guy Iâd been chasing. The makeup in the livestream did him dirty; he looked cleaner and more intellectual in his profile pic.
But he was new, only here for a few days, and always stood in the back row. In a ten-man group, seeing two-thirds of his face on screen was a miracle.
He didn't seem to know the tip was a mistake. His words were... surprisingly sincere.
It was just one Yacht (about $100). No need to explain and crush his spirit.
I wasnât planning to reply. Just as I was about to exit, he sent another message.
KU-Ace: [Sis, Iâll practice dancing even harder. I wonât let your encouragement go to waste!]
Ugh, heâs kind of a pitiful underdog. Thanking me three times for one Yacht.
I sent a polite [Good luck] and prepared to switch back to the stream to compensate Sawyer.
But suddenly, my phone started vibrating like crazy.
It was all from Sawyer.
KU-Sawyer: [?] [Did you not read my message?] [Why haven't you sent them yet?] [What do you mean?] [So, you tipped him on purpose to piss me off?] [Fine.] [I get it.]
Confused, I replied with a [?].
A red exclamation mark appeared.
Message Not Delivered.
Excuse me? He blocked me?!
A wave of rage surged from my chest.
Iâve been chasing him for two months. Iâve spent at least fifteen grand on him. And because of one misclick, heâs throwing a tantrum and blocking me?
Fine.
If youâre too good for me, there are plenty of others who aren't. Iâm done playing.
I was about to rage-quit the app when I glanced at the pitiful message from the new kid again.
My finger hovered over the close button.
Iâm ruthless in business, but I have a weakness for hardworking, handsome underdogs. Even if heâs acting, at least heâs putting in the effort to act for me.
So, I charged back into the livestream.
2. The Snub
As soon as I entered, the hype man shouted me out.
"Our Sawyer's Top Gifter, 'Yacht Queen,' is back! Oh man, Sawyer is set for the night!"
This boy band group had only been formed two months ago. They were still in the growth phase. They didn't have many die-hard whales, so my account was definitely in the top tier.
Plus, I have OCD. I only tip Yachts. Itâs my signature.
Hearing my name, the corner of Sawyerâs mouth twitched upward slightly. But in a split second, he returned to his usual "cool guy" persona.
Just then, a new account with a pretty girlâs profile pic entered and immediately dropped a Sports Car.
[This guy is so hot. He hits right in the heart. Love it.]
The host thanked her as usual and read the comment.
Sawyer gave a shy smile. After finishing his dance move, as if to spite me, he made a heart shape with his hands and personally thanked her.
"Thanks to the beautiful lady for the Sports Car. Please support me in the future!"
The chat went wild.
[OMG, never seen Sawyer so shy and enthusiastic.] [First time seeing Sawyer do a heart! Rich sisters, drop more cars! We love to see it!] [Sheâs generous, and looking at her profile, sheâs a real beauty.] [A real rich heiress. Did Sawyer catch feelings?]
Seeing Sawyer in such a good mood, the old fans started dropping gifts too. Bouquets and balloons filled the screen.
Sawyer couldn't hide his grin. He was interacting with everyone, hearts and thank-yous flying everywhere.
Even the host marveled, "What good thing happened to Sawyer tonight? Heâs in such a good mood."
I was fuming.
Usually, I drop $100 Yachts without blinking, and all I get is a faint smile. A newbie drops a cheap gift, and he gives her emotional value?
So what do my Yachts count for? Chopped liver?
In a fit of rage, I opened the gift menu and dropped another Yacht directly on Ace.
"Thanks to our Yacht Queen for sending Sawyer a..."
The word "Yacht" got stuck in the host's throat. He squinted at the screen.
"Oh, sorry, my bad. The Yacht is for Ace."
The whole team froze for two seconds, turning their heads to look at Ace in the back row.
Ace looked unbelieving, hesitantly stepping forward.
And Sawyer, who was standing in the center (C-position), was even more shocked than Ace.
3. The Rain of Yachts
Sawyer stared at the monitor for a few seconds to confirm, then reluctantly stepped aside.
Ace stood in the center, visibly terrified. He composed himself and bowed deeply to the camera.
Just as he opened his mouth to say, "Thank you, sisâ"
I dropped another Yacht.
Ace was about to start dancing, saw the new Yacht, and bowed again.
When he stood up, I dropped another one.
For a moment, the screen was just a continuous stream of Yachts.
Ace was bewildered.
Sawyerâs face was uglier than a stormy sky. He looked around anxiously, looking like he wanted to jump through the screen and shake me by the shoulders.
The host excitedly announced the gifts, his voice getting higher with each one.
The chat was scrolling so fast it was a blur.
[Holy sh*t, Yacht Queen is flexing!] [Thatâs my Queen.] [Wait, is this a mistake?] [Did she click the wrong person?] [Sis, stop! Wrong guy!] [Yacht Queen only tips Sawyer, is the system glitching?] [No way, are they force-pushing the rookie? Report for rigging!]
Even the host, after shouting thanks ten times, muttered under his breath, "Is this a misclick..."
Ace bowed over and over, tears glistening in his eyes. Seeing I wasn't stopping, he frantically tried to persuade me:
"Sis, stop sending them! It's enough, really enough! Thank you so much, I will work harder!"
As soon as he finished, I dropped 52 Yachts in one go.
I like this feeling. Reciprocity.
It feels infinitely better than tipping that fake-noble, gaslighting Sawyer.
Iâm spending my money to feel good.
Plus, with Ace standing in the center for so long, I took a good look. Ignoring the bad makeup, his features were excellent. Especially those long legsâwhen he danced, it was lethal. The other guys wore lifts in their shoes; his soles were thin, yet he was still half a head taller than Sawyer.
No wonder they banished him to the back row.
Seeing so many Yachts, and none for him, Sawyerâs face hit rock bottom. He couldn't hold it in anymore.
He shoved Ace, who was standing in the center, and walked out of the frame grumpily. I could hear him snap something to the host before disappearing.
"The system must be bugged. The Yachts meant for me are going to someone else. Iâm going to fix it."
Ten seconds after Sawyer left.
A new message popped up on my phone.
KU-Sawyer: [Sis, use your eyes before you click. Youâre sending them all to the wrong person, you know that? F*ck.]
4. The Block
The message stayed for two seconds before he quickly retracted it.
Huh? Didnât he block me?
How did he add me back? I thought he had a backbone.
Just as I finished that thought, a barrage of new messages appeared.
KU-Sawyer: [Sis, be careful when you tap the gifts. You gave them all to that guy.] [Maybe go ask customer service for a refund?] [Whatever, if you canât refund it, itâs fine.] [Just re-send them to me. Slowly. Look before you click!] [?] [Why aren't you replying? You're not mad, are you?] [Sorry about earlier. I saw you tipping someone else and got jealous, so I spoke too harshly. Don't overthink it.] [Sis, come back to the stream right now, okay?]
Tsk tsk.
Iâve known Sawyer this long, and this is the first time heâs typed this much.
Too bad. Itâs too late.
I have the "ick."
I didnât reply. I didnât block him either. I just left him on read and closed the app.
I started watching their stream to do market research. My conglomerate is planning to acquire their agency, KU Media. I didn't expect to get hooked on this B-list group's stream.
Sawyer was just my type physically. High nose bridge, smooth jawline, lean muscle. He was different from other streamersâaloof, just the right amount of "hard to get." Or so I thought.
At first, I was bored, so I threw him a Yacht. He just smiled. He wasn't like the desperate ones my assistant told me about who would follow you back for a $1 gift.
Two days later, I dropped 10 Yachts. He DMâd a thank you.
Days later, I saw him losing a Battle (PK) badly, looking like he was about to cry. I dropped 100 Yachts to save him. Only then did he follow me back.
Even after following, he remained aloof. Except for complaining about sales quotas or pressure to hint for gifts, he barely chatted.
I didn't mind. Life is boring; I look at handsome guys online to pass the time. It's a transaction. I don't lack the money.
But I didn't expect that the nicer I was, the less he cared about my feelings. Last month, I was busy with a business trip and didn't log in for three days. He gave me the cold shoulder for a month.
He acted like he was sure I wouldn't leave him.
If I love someone, I give without expecting a return. But I don't love him. Why should I spend money to be treated like trash?
If this one is disobedient, Iâll swap him. The next one is always better behaved.
5. The Return
After staying offline for three days to finish work, the acquisition of KU Media was finally finalized.
Bored, I opened the short video app again. Dozens of notifications popped up.
The most recent one was from Ace.
I scrolled back. After the stream that night, he wrote me an 800-word essay expressing his overwhelming gratitude. He even sent his private WeChat ID.
Even though I didn't reply, he persisted in sending "Good morning" and "Good night" messages for the last few days.
I thought about it, didn't add him, and just replied with a polite [Thanks].
Then I checked Sawyerâs messages.
[Sis, why didn't you come back to tip?] [Didn't we agree?] [Sis, come back and tip me, or I won't get the champion title tonight... it's embarrassing.] [Don't ghost me at a critical moment! We're in a Battle! Hurry!] [Reply to me.] [?] [Don't regret this.]
Sawyerâs attitude seemed to deteriorate as time went on. I saw he was still awake at 4 AM; probably stayed up all night fuming.
Seeing no reply from me, his tone gradually shifted back to fawning over the next few days.
[Sis, I really was just jealous yesterday. Don't hold a grudge, okay?] [I lost last night and got punished. You should be less angry now, right?] [Sis, you didn't come today either?] [Sis, I was wrong. Will you come see me?] [Whether you come or not, Sawyer is here.] [Sawyer will wait for you in the stream forever. <3]
Most messages were sent at 3 or 4 AM.
Even better, he sent me a few high-definition ab pics.
Tsk. Without me as a sugar mommy, he isn't so "cloud-like and breezy" after all.
I zoomed in. Just okay. Who knows if theyâre photoshopped.
Thinking about it, heâs just a rookie with no social experience. Since they are now artists under my company, I decided not to block him for the sake of his face making me money.
I didn't reply and clicked into their livestream.
Tonight, I planned to "rain and dew alike"âtip every member to show them how generous their new boss is.
As soon as I entered, I saw it was perfect timing.
Sawyer and Ace were about to start a dance Battle (PK).
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I was the Upper East Sideâs most notorious “ugly shrew.”
But with parents who worshipped the ground I walked on, the city’s socialites and trust-fund babies had no choice but to kiss my ring.
Until a “real” heiress appearedâresilient, unyielding, and unafraid of power.
When my blood sugar crashed and I asked my fiancĂŠ, Preston, to grab me a piece of cake, she publicly denounced me:
“Miss Vanderbilt, you have hands and feet. Why do you order people around? Slavery is over. There are no masters here!”
When I sprained my wrist and asked my brother to open a water bottle, she sneered:
“A parasite who only knows how to rely on others. You’re a disgrace to modern women!”
Later, I gave her a taste of her own medicine.
When she broke her foot and was being helped by someone, I threw shade:
“Oh~ looks like the resilient modern woman needs to rely on others too~”
Unexpectedly, the protagonist didn’t snap. My fiancĂŠ did.
“Zoe Vanderbilt! You’re so toxic every day. No wonder everyone in our circle is disgusted by you!”
1
The crowd gasped.
“Whoa, is Preston crazy? Is he not afraid Zoe will tattle and his dad will cut him off?”
“I said it ages ago, those two are gonna break up. Zoe is ugly and has a terrible temper. Standing next to her, Preston looks like a kept man.”
“Honestly, I’m more curious if Preston throws up when he has to kiss her…”
The snickering around me was relentless.
My face darkened, inch by inch.
Preston’s expression was tight. He had spoken without thinking, and now regret was creeping onto his face.
“You…”
“Preston!”
Before he could explain, Chloeâthe Sterling family’s long-lost daughter who was switched at birthâinterjected with emotion:
“I thought everyone in this circle was a mindless follower, praising certain useless people who just leech off their parents.”
“Now I realize, you’re different.”
Her face was full of admiration, her eyes tender.
Her sweet, innocent look made Prestonâs softening expression harden again.
He looked at me coldly, his tone commanding:
“Zoe, apologize to Chloe.”
I was so confused I almost laughed.
“You worthy?”
Preston was stunned for a second. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, who do you think you are to order me around?”
“Who gave you this confidence? Kanye or me?”
My mouth was like poison. “Did I give you too much face lately, making you think you’re actually somebody?”
“Ugly and dramatic. If you have nothing better to do, go back to the farm and shovel manure.”
“I hear the pig farm is hiring!”
I attacked indiscriminately.
Preston’s face turned a beautiful array of colors.
He took a deep breath and blurted out his true feelings:
“I’m ugly? Have you looked in a mirror? Your face looks like a baboon’s ass, and your temper is worse than a rabid raccoon.”
“I’ve tolerated you since we were kids. Did you really think I didn’t have a temper?!”
Preston and I were childhood sweethearts. He knew exactly what to say to hurt me.
I was born with a red birthmark on my face.
It covered the right half of my cheek, irregular and hideous.
But if you ignored the birthmark, the other half of my face was actually stunning.
Honestly, this kind of birthmark could have been removed with surgery at birth, leaving negligible scars.
Unfortunately, when I was born, my family was dirt poor. No money, no connections to find a surgeon.
To save up for me, my parents worked odd jobs and looked for business opportunities.
Since they had no time to take care of me, they sent me to the countryside to live with my grandma.
I was six years old.
Within days, I learned that Grandma was affectionately known as the “Village Karen”âbut the hardcore version. If a single cucumber went missing from her garden, she’d curse from one end of the village to the other.
Her vocabulary included colorful descriptions of various organs.
She once raged so hard a thief confessed on the spot and got into a screaming match with her.
The result? Grandma won. The thief even paid her fifty bucks for emotional distress.
From then on, Grandma’s heroic figure was branded in my mind.
Even her nickname felt like a badge of honor.
I practiced daily. When classmates called me “Baboon Ass” again, I mimicked Grandma, hacking up a loogie and spitting right in their faces.
Hands on hips, I’d scream: “You little punk! If you didn’t talk, I’d think a [beep] came to life! With that long face and thick neck, you must have been a [beep] in your past life!”
“And your parents! How did they produce such a waste of space? Aren’t you embarrassed to be alive? Let me tell you, your parents didn’t want you anyway. Go home and check, they’re probably making a new kid right now!”
I stole these insults from Grandma. I didn’t know what they meant, but they felt powerful.
After successfully cursing them away, I turned around like a victorious general, only to see my parents standing there, eyes red.
Mom was crying a river, hugging me tight.
“I’m taking my daughter. If she stays here any longer, she’ll be ruined!”
At the time, I didn’t understand why they were so sad.
Despite my protests, they took me away.
They had made some money and wanted to fix my face.
But I refused.
The doctor said they’d have to cut off the skin with the birthmark and stitch two pieces together.
Thinking about it hurt.
So I rolled on the floor, throwing a tantrum, refusing to agree.
I even mimicked Grandma’s wise tone:
“If someone won’t play with me because of my face, they don’t deserve to be my friend.”
“My birthmark is a friendship filter! I’m not going to the hospital. Use the money for your business!”
I had overheard them earlier.
There was a great investment opportunity, but they didn’t have enough money for both the surgery and the investment.
I said it because I was scared of pain.
But my parents misunderstood. They hugged me, sobbing:
“Zoe, you’re so sensible. Mom and Dad will work hard to give you a good life.”
From then on, they worked like crazy.
In a few years, I was living in a mansion, being driven to school, and eating meals prepared by a top chef.
That year, I met Preston next door.
He was the middle child, sandwiched between an older sister and a younger brother.
He was invisible.
Unloved at home, bullied at school.
My sense of justice exploded. Channeling Grandma, I spit on half the class and cursed the other half until they cried for their mommies.
Since then, Preston and I became best friends.
When he was bullied, I rushed in to protect him.
And when people called me “Baboon Ass,” he’d fight them.
My parents thought he was sincere, so they arranged our engagement.
They even gave the Sterling family business benefits, turning Preston from the ignored middle child into the family favorite.
From twelve to twenty-two.
I became the hot-tempered “ugly shrew” no one dared to mess with.
He grew up handsome, becoming the circle’s Prince Charming.
Everyone praised his good temper and gentle nature.
I was proud. A man is a woman’s faceâhis praise was my glory!
So for ten years, I thought our bond was unbreakable.
Who knew he’d become the one calling me “Baboon Ass”?
I stared deeply at the handsome man still demanding an apology.
Suddenly, I let out a soft laugh.
Under his confused gaze, I grabbed the cake next to me and smashed it right into his face.
“Preston Sterling, we are done!”
2
I roared, lunging forward to grab his hair.
I slapped his face, kicked his legs.
“You finally said it! You always thought I looked like a baboon’s ass, didn’t you?!”
“Have you been lying to me all these years? Using me?!”
I was furious. The thought that he used me made me want to eat him alive!
So, I did.
I opened my mouth and bit his face hard.
“Ahhh!”
A blood-curdling scream echoed through the banquet hall.
Chaos erupted.
People tried to pull us apart, others filmed.
I took the opportunity to scratch the people who badmouthed me earlier.
In the end, we all went to the police station.
Twenty people, all squatting in the precinct.
I was bailed out first.
My dad held my red hands, heartbroken. “Baby, does it hurt? Next time, Dad will get you gloves.”
“That way, your hands won’t hurt when you hit people.”
The police officer’s face darkened, but he couldn’t interfere in family matters. He coughed, reminding us:
“…Please educate your child to be civilized.”
Dad chose selective hearing and continued babying me.
I pursed my lips, still angry.
My sharp gaze swept over the people hanging their heads in shame.
Finally, it landed on the two guys who insulted me.
I articulated each word:
“This isn’t over!”
Dad backed me up, glaring at them. “This isn’t over!”
Back home, I immediately posted on all social media platforms that I was breaking off the engagement with Preston.
Mom sat beside me, hugging my shoulders.
“Baby, don’t be sad over a Preston. Mom will introduce you to guys who are tall, handsome, and have abs.”
“And tell me, who insulted you today? Mom will terminate all cooperation with their families immediately!”
It’s always been like this.
If I get bullied, my parents find a way to get justice and crush the other party.
That’s why the socialites and rich kids never dared to insult me to my face.
Facing my mom’s angry gaze, I shook my head.
“Mom, I don’t want your help this time.”
“I want to handle it myself.”
Dad agreed immediately. “Good! Zoe is grown up. But if you need anything, tell us. Mom and Dad are always your backup.”
I lowered my head, eyes tearing up.
But just as I was feeling touched, my brother, Lucas, rolled his eyes. “Sis, honestly, with looks like yours, marrying Preston was a miracle.”
“You didn’t cherish it, and now you’re breaking it off? Look in the mirror, you ugly freak.”
He whispered the last part.
But we all heard it. We aren’t deaf.
Ever since he met Chloe, his attitude toward me changed completely.
He became exactly like Chloe.
If I asked him for water, he’d say sarcastically: “Right, some people rely on their deformity to get spoiled by parents and order others around like their hands are broken.”
“Treating people like slaves. You think you’re an emperor, huh?”
Even though I stopped asking him for anything, he still mocked my looks.
I put down my phone, rolling up my sleeves to fight. But Dad beat me to it, slapping him across the face.
His voice was cold and commanding: “Apologize to your sister!”
I sat back down, smiling smugly at him.
Lucas turned red with rage, screaming hysterically:
“Dad! You hit me! You hit me for this ugly monster?!”
“I’m leaving! I’m running away!”
He turned to leave.
Mom didn’t care. She said lightly, “If you leave, don’t come back.”
Lucas didn’t stop, but he turned a corner and went upstairs.
Dad was furious and wanted to follow him, but I stopped him.
“Dad, forget it.”
I wasn’t letting him off easy. I added, “Educate him later.”
“Help me contact a hospital first. I want to get laser surgery for my birthmark.”
Actually, with medical advancements, I had thought about removing it before.
But over the years, I didn’t really care about it. Plus, the excuse I used years ago about “testing true love” made it hard to back down.
And my parents, either brainwashed by me or protecting my ego, never brought it up again.
With their money and power, no one could bully me anyway.
But after this incident, I realized something.
Testing true love with a birthmark is bullshit!
People are shallow!
Otherwise, why did Preston, who “passed the test,” change his heart so easily?
3
Hearing I wanted to remove the birthmark, my parents froze, then teared up.
“Daughter, you finally figured it out.”
Mom hugged me, relieved.
“I’ll contact the hospital!”
Dad whipped out his phone, afraid I’d change my mind.
For a moment, I was embarrassed.
As expected, they were just protecting my ego.
Dad was efficient. That night, he contacted the best hospital in the US.
Tickets booked.
Before boarding, Mom hugged me reluctantly. “Baby, are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”
“Are you scared alone? Maybe I should come.”
Recently, the family business was expanding exports, and they were working until 11 PM.
I shook my head. “No, I want to go alone. When I come back beautiful, I’ll surprise you.”
Dad was crying buckets. “Zoe, you hate pain. I just put 15 million dollars in your account. Do not save money for me.”
Then, he pushed our Michelin-star chef toward me. “Daughter, you won’t like the food there. Take our chef. Let him take care of you, okay?”
Me: “…”
“Fine. Don’t cry. I’m leaving.”
Mom waved. “Go.”
Dad covered his mouth, sobbing. “Don’t save money!”
Me: “…Okay!”
The flight from Shanghai to the US took eleven and a half hours.
As soon as I landed, I got a call from Preston.
He was furious. “Why didn’t you answer? Do you know how many times I called?!”
“I went to your house and you weren’t there. Where did you go?”
I picked my ear, asking casually:
“You care about me?”
He paused, sounding unnatural. “Of course. You’re my fiancĂŠe. Who else would I care about?”
“And what’s with the breakup post? I didn’t even get mad that you bit me. Are you going to keep being a brat?”
Me, a brat?
Aside from cursing, I’ve always been a law-abiding citizen.
I gave him a taste of his own medicine, and now I have to apologize?
Ordered to apologize by my ex-fiancĂŠ?
I laughed. “Preston, what are you pretending for?”
“Your acting was so good you almost moved yourself, didn’t you? Do you need an Oscar?”
“Also, do you think I’m joking? You think you say a few nice words and I’ll come running back to protect you?”
I cursed him out:
“Little punk, go shovel manure!”
I spat at the phone, blocked him, and deleted him.
Then, the chef and I checked into a $10,000-a-night luxury suite.
I slept in the next day, then went for my checkup.
Because the birthmark was large and dark, I needed multiple laser treatments.
Honestly, it hurt.
And every time, my face swelled up, looking even more like a butt.
I could only laugh through the pain, recording my recovery.
Six months later.
Lucas sent another sarcastic message.
[Text: Sis, I told you not to break up with Preston. Now look, he’s with Chloe. You have nowhere to cry now.]
Attached was a video.
Preston and Chloe kissing passionately under a Ferris wheel.
I tutted.
“Wasted talent. Should do porn.”
Seeing no reply, Lucas forwarded another video.
[Text: Hahaha, Sis, you’re famous.]
[Text: I knew your temper would get you canceled! Look, Evil Heiress abuses friends and hits people. Calling you Ugly Betty is a compliment.]
I clicked the video. It was me beating up Preston six months ago.
Edited heavily.
With a passionate voiceover:
“Rich people think they’re gods. Breaking up a couple wasn’t enough, she bit the boyfriend! Is this monster a dog?!”
The comments were all cursing me.
The top comment claimed to be an insider:
[Insider: The video is true. Zoe relies on her rich dad to bully us. Once I bought her water a minute late, and she screamed at me, calling me a cripple and a retard! As for Preston and Chloe, I can’t say much, but they are truly in love.]
Replies:
[I knew Baboon Face was the mistress. Unless Preston is blind, he wouldn’t date that ugly freak.]
[Exactly! Our Chloe is beautiful. Look at Preston’s eyes in the video, so much love.]
I raised an eyebrow, almost laughing at the stupidity.
Preston and Chloe, a golden couple?
They met less than a year ago, and I went from fiancĂŠe to mistress?
“Zoe, everything is packed. Let’s go to the airport.”
The chef uncle pulled the luggage, excited to go home.
I rubbed my fingers, deciding to delete my drafted explanation post.
Revenge is sweeter face-to-face.
4
I didn’t tell anyone I was coming back. Not even my parents.
Just like when I decided to leave.
Decisive departure, surprise return.
My villa was lit up, luxury cars parked outside.
Before I even entered, I heard loud chatter.
“Hey, Lucas, I bet your ugly sister isn’t traveling. She’s probably hiding somewhere crying because she’s so hideous!”
That was Liam, the guy who called me ugly at the banquet.
He was a scholarship student who sucked up to me to get into my high school.
His dad was an alcoholic abuser, his stepmom wanted to crush him.
Once, his dad came to school to make him drop out. He cried so hard I felt bad and helped him.
He knew how to act. He became my lackey, doing everything without complaint.
I gave him errands. Minimum $300 a pop, never further than 200 meters.
Over the years, he made a fortune off me.
And the result? Another ungrateful wolf.
“Who cares if she’s dead or alive.”
Lucas looked gloomy.
“The old man and mom always favored that monster. They won’t even tell me where she is.”
A gentle voice spoke up:
“Lucas, don’t be angry. You’re the boy. Even if they favor Zoe, the inheritance will be yours.”
“If you don’t like her…”
Chloe smiled playfully yet seriously. “Just kick her out later. Give her nothing. Out of sight, out of mind.”
Lucas’s eyes lit up.
“Right! Why didn’t I think of that?”
“I’ll suck up to the old biased couple now. When the company is mine, I can do whatever I want with Zoe.”
He downed his red wine, imagining his bright future.
I scoffed, walking into the living room. “Mom and Dad aren’t even dead yet, and you’re planning to take the company and kick me out?”
Lucas’s eyes darkened. He glared at me.
“Who are you? Who let you in?!”
His cold gaze showed he didn’t recognize me.
I didn’t waste words. I rushed forward, grabbed his hair, and slapped him.
“You little sh*t! Six months and you grew some balls, huh? Plotting against me? Trying to take the company?”
“Dream on, you idiot!”
“The family business would go to a turtle before it goes to you!”
Hearing my trademark insults, everyone realized who I was.
“Zoe? Holy sh*t, did she get plastic surgery? How is she so hot?! Where did she go? No scars at all!”
“Doesn’t look like surgery… it’s so natural. If it is surgery, I need the doctor’s number!”
Unlike six months ago, no one tried to stop me.
In three minutes, I beat Lucas black and blue.
His eyes were unfocused, but he kept cursing:
“You ugly freak, you dare hit me? I’ll tell Mom and Dad to kick you out!”
The last sentence was weak, barely a whisper.
I laughed. I grabbed his collar and flipped him over my shoulder, slamming him onto the floor.
“Don’t bother telling them. I’m announcing it now: You are disowned!”
“You played brother for a few years and thought you were the heir?”
“I picked up a stray dog, and it turned into a wolf. Pfft!”
“Get out!”
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Everyone said Grant Sterling loved me. After we got married, we treated each other with mutual respect. That was until the day I found out he had been bankrolling his “first love” on the side. When I confronted him, red-eyed and shaking, his reaction froze my blood. Afraid Iâd ruin the other woman’s reputation, he had me thrown into the confinement cell on the base.
1
“You’re free to go.”
The baton slammed against the iron door, the metallic clang echoing sharply. The guard stood at the entrance of the holding cell, looking down at me with pure disdain. She was just like everyone else on the base. Deep down, she looked down on Mrs. Sterling.
I struggled to stand up. It took me a solid minute to realize the truth: I had died under a mudslide, and somehow, I had been reborn.
Grant was standing outside the main gate waiting for me, just like in my past life.
2
“Why are you crying?”
The manâs handsome, sharp features came into view. I remembered the feeling of tracing his brow bone every night, the intimacy we once shared. But now, back from the dead and looking him in the eye, I was speechless. I really was reborn.
I sniffled and walked down the steps in silence. Winter in Harbor City was brutal. The cold made my heart shiver with grief.
Out of habit, Grant took off his heavy military coat and draped it over my shoulders. “Don’t catch a cold.”
The warmth hit me, mixed with the faint scent of gardenias. I knew that smellâit was the soap Bella used.
I remembered my past life. When I questioned him about the scent, Grantâs gentle aura turned icy. He looked at me with suppressed rage. “Zoe, I locked you up for three days. Haven’t you cooled off yet? Can you please stop making a scene?”
Back then, I was full of grievances. I struggled, isolated and helpless, while he turned a blind eye to Bellaâs provocations. I became a joke to everyone.
Grant, in this life, go ahead and love your “one that got away” in broad daylight. Iâm done playing.
Holding back the tears threatening to spill, I stiffly removed the coat. I didn’t say a word about the scent. “Wear it yourself. I’m not cold.”
Grant paused, stunned. It took him a long moment to recover.
3
Back home, I boiled water to take a bath. When I came out, Grant was actually in the kitchen cooking. There were three side dishes already on the table.
“Sit down. Soup’s almost ready.”
Who would have thought the high-and-mighty Captain Sterling, the man everyone admired, would be wearing my apron? If I hadn’t seen him order me into confinement to protect that woman’s reputation, I wouldn’t believe this was the same man.
Even after the hot shower, my body shivered with phantom chills. That was the pain of being buried alive by mud. The despair of being abandoned by Grant.
I took a deep breath and told myself: Zoe, you have to be strong. If others don’t cherish you, betray you, or abandon you, then you must love yourself even more.
I scooped myself a huge bowl of rice. Three days in confinement with no one looking out for me meant two meals a day: cold buns and watery gruel. Grant brought the seaweed soup to the table and froze.
I didn’t wait for him. I shoveled food into my mouth like a starving ghost. He sat opposite me and served the soup. “Slow down. If you like it, I’ll buy more tomorrow.”
He placed the soup next to me. The sound of chopsticks hitting porcelain echoed in the house, making the two of us seem like total strangers. I finished dinner like a tornado and stood up to leave.
“Zoe,” Grant called out. “We need to talk.”
4
“There’s no need for the cold shoulder.” Grant was reserved, a man of few words. Influenced by his strict father, he was disciplined and accomplished, rarely showing emotion.
“Years ago, after Bella’s father passed, she left the city with her mother. We lost contact. “I ran into her years later in the mountains. By then, her uncle had forced her to marry a violent drunk.”
No one could understand Grant’s shock and anger back then. The proudest girl in the compound, reduced to a bruised mess by her ex-husband in just a few years. When Grant carried her out, Bella had curled up in his arms, trembling.
“She suffered severe mental trauma and had a child with her. It took me two years to help her stabilize. I really don’t want her to get hurt again.”
Maybe because my attitude had changed this time, Grant chose to explain the past to me. The pain in his eyes was real. He held a deep pity for his childhood friend.
Even though my heart was already dead, seeing my husband moved to tears for another woman felt like a physical blow. He would never know that his moment of vulnerability was like a knife twisting in my heart.
I steadied my breathing, clinging to my last shred of sanity. “So, you locked me in a cell?”
Grantâs breath hitched. He tried to make me understand his dilemma. “You accused her of being a mistress in front of everyone. Do you know how damaging that is for a single mother?”
“Grant, your monthly salary is 80 dollars. You give me 20, and you give her 60. And you call that innocent? “If you love her so much that you can’t stand to see her suffer, why did you marry me? What is this home to you? “You didn’t want her to get hurt, so you threw your lawfully wedded wife into confinement. Did you know that because of that, I’ll be the laughingstock of the base? That I’ll be fired from the textile factory with a mark on my record and never find work again?”
Years of grievances from my past life poured out. Looking at the man I had loved for half my life, I laughed in despair. “Of course you knew. You just didn’t care.”
Tears blurred my vision. I felt like a fish dying on the shore, suffocating in my own grief. He pulled me into his arms, that crisp, unique scent of his enveloping me. He held my waist, patting my back, seeming at a loss.
“I didn’t mean that, Zoe. Don’t cry. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t have a job. I’m your husband. I’ll support you for the rest of your life.”
5
In my last life, he said the exact same thing. Iâll support you forever.
Back then, I clung to my pitiful dignity and refused. I tried everywhere to find a job, but with a disciplinary record, no one dared to hire me. In the end, bruised and battered, I crawled back home like a stray dog and became a housewife.
Grant didn’t mock me. He was actually a decent provider; he kept his word. When we got married, he handed over his entire savings to me. Before I knew about Bella, I was genuinely happy.
But after he locked me up for another woman and I lost my job, the gossip started. People whispered behind Grantâs back that I was a toad lusting after swan meatâthat I wasn’t good enough for him. The scariest part? To me, those vicious words felt like the truth.
Day after day, I ground myself down until I became exactly what they said: an ignorant shrew who exploded at the slightest provocation.
The past was unbearable to look back on. This time, I knew where my path lay. I wiped my tears, pushed Grant away, and whispered, “Okay.”
6
“Grant, is… is Zoe back?”
When Grant opened the door, Bella was standing there in a bright yellow quilted jacket, wrapped in a trendy red scarf that made her oval face look exquisite.
“It’s cold out. Come in.” Grant stepped aside, habitually setting out slippers for her.
Bella lowered her head with a shy smile, eyes full of affection. I knew why she was here. I watched her performance with a cold sneer.
“Grant, I came to return the key. It’s not right for me to keep living in your wedding house.” Bella looked at me apologetically, though the provocation in her eyes was loud and clear. “Zoe seems to misunderstand us. I should move out so she doesn’t feel upset.”
Grant was stunned and instinctively looked at me. I didn’t react. Panic flickered in his eyes. He opened his mouth but seemed at a loss for words.
“Grant?” Bella looked confused, probing. “Does… does Zoe still not know?”
Dead silence in the room.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Grant, I…” Her eyes turned red instantly, as if she had been greatly wronged. “I’ll move out right now and give the house back to you!”
Grant grabbed Bella as she made a show of leaving. “Stop it! It’s freezing outside. You have a child, where are you going to go? “Zoe, my family gave me that apartment when I started working. I let Bella and her son stay there so she could recover.”
“Mm.” Looking at this pair of tragic lovers, I didn’t want to waste another breath. Grant’s face was pale, his eyes full of oblivious confusion.
I stood up to clear my bowl, done with their faces. “Grant, I’m going to prepare for the exams. I can’t control what you do outside, and I don’t want to anymore.”
Grant tried to speak again, but I walked away without looking back.
7
In 1977, the country reinstated the National College Entrance Exams. Back then, life had ground me down. I never thought about changing my destiny through study. Reborn, I wanted a different life. No more sleepwalking through existence.
I stopped caring about how many women or “sons” Grant supported outside. As long as we weren’t divorced, he had to support this house too.
I locked myself at home, buried in books. I asked nothing about his work. I showed zero interest in his progress with his “white moonlight.” I stopped doing his laundryâplenty of people outside could take care of him. I stopped the warm greetings; let those tragic lovebirds comfort each other.
When he came home, I was usually at the desk, head down. Days passed. We stopped communicating. Sometimes I heard his footsteps stop outside the bedroom door. I could feel him standing there for a long time. He seemed to want to say something. But I never turned around. Eventually, he would leave in silence.
Sometimes late at night, I kept the light on to study at his usual desk. He had to read by the bedside, but he never complained. Occasionally, I sensed he wasn’t reading, just leaning back against the headboard, watching me with a gaze I couldn’t decipher. Only when I shifted in my chair would he look away.
He knew I didn’t want to talk to him. Necessary household comms were written on notes left on my desk before he went to work. We still slept in the same bed, but nothing happened. I was exhausted. After studying, Iâd crawl into bed and pass out.
Once, he saw I had dirty clothes and tried to wash them. He wasn’t built for it. Watching my white shirt get stained with dye, my heart pinched. That was one of my few new shirts. He looked annoyed, like a child who made a mistake, but also secretly sad. “Sorry, I…”
It was our first conversation in ages. “It’s okay.” I re-soaped the shirt. “Go do your thing. I’ll wash my own clothes from now on. I don’t need your help.”
Grant lowered his eyes, watching me. Even though I was still in this house. Even though I still slept beside him. Everything was different now.
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I was on a business trip when I got the text: the power bill was past due. A wave of confusion washed over me.
The bill was insanely high for this month, which made no sense. My wife and I were both out of town. The apartment should have been empty.
I opened the utility companyâs app and checked the daily usage. Sure enough, there was a steady draw every single day, and it wasnât small. It looked like someone was running the air conditioner around the clock.
I called my wife, Chloe. “Hey, when are you getting back?”
Her sweet voice chirped on the other end. “Probably not until next week. It’s been raining nonstop, so the project’s delayed. What’s up? Miss me?”
I told her I missed her too, but my fingers were already booking the first flight home for the morning.
My own project had wrapped up early anyway. I decided not to tell her I was coming back ahead of schedule.
1
That exorbitant power bill was the first alarm. My immediate thought was that someone had broken in. I pulled up the smart lock app on my phone.
But after checking the access log, I saw nothing. The door hadn’t been opened a single time in the last two weeks.
My mind raced. Maybe a neighbor had messed with the wiring, siphoning our electricity. But this was an affluent area. It seemed beneath the residents here to commit a felony over a few hundred dollars on a utility bill.
Still, I couldn’t think of any other explanation.
Since my project was done, I caught the earliest flight the next morning and headed home.
The apartment was empty, just as I expected. Chloe wasn’t there.
I checked the drawers where we keep our valuables. Nothing was missing. That ruled out a simple burglary. Then I opened the closet. All of Chloe’s usual work clothes were gone. She was definitely on her business trip.
After some thought, I went down to the building’s management office and asked them to check the wiring to my unit.
“My power bill is through the roof,” I explained. “The apartment’s been empty, but we’ve racked up a three-hundred-dollar bill in two weeks.”
The security guard on duty, a young guy with a friendly smile, nodded. “You got it, sir. I’ll get an electrician up there for you right away.”
I led the guard and the electrician upstairs.
The moment we got to the utility closet in the hall, I knew my neighbor-thief theory was dead. The meter box was locked. No one living in a building like this would go to such lengths just to steal a little electricity.
I was back to square one. If it wasn’t a wiring issue, what the hell was going on?
The electrician opened the panel and, after a few minutes of checking things over, turned to me. “Sir, I’ve had a look. There’s nothing wrong with your circuit.”
I nodded, scrambling for a plausible excuse. “Okay, thanks. We must have forgotten to turn off the AC before we left.”
The security guard smiled, revealing two prominent canines that gave him a boyish look. “Alright, sir. Just give us a call if you need anything else!”
I nodded back.
Back in the apartment, I searched every room again, turning the place upside down. There was no sign that anyone else had been there.
Was the place haunted?
I was lying on the bed, exhausted, when I heard the front door click open.
I shot upright, grabbing the heavy vase from the nightstand and ducking behind the bedroom door. Was it the person who’d been squatting here?
But then I heard the familiar rattle of a rolling suitcase.
I lowered the vase and stepped out. It was Chloe.
Her face lit up when she saw me. “Honey! You’re back early too!” She threw her arms around me, burying her face in my chest.
I was confused. “I thought you said your project was delayed.”
“It was,” she said, pulling back. “The rain in Austin just wouldn’t let up. We were just wasting the company’s money sitting around, so our boss sent us home.”
I nodded. That made sense. Her work was primarily setting up outdoor exhibitions.
A second later, she looked at me with a playful smile. “So, what about you? What’s your excuse for coming home early?”
It’s not that I’d never had a flicker of doubt about Chloe, but I’d never found anything to substantiate it. Besides, she was also linked to the utility app; she’d see the bill eventually. I decided to tell her the truth.
“The power bill was crazy high, even with both of us gone,” I said. “I was worried someone had gotten in, so I came back to check. I didn’t want to worry you.”
To my surprise, Chloe giggled. “Oh, that! It’s because we forgot to turn off the AC when we left! I only noticed it yesterday and shut it off remotely.”
A wave of relief washed over me. So it was all just a false alarm.
But later that night, after dinner, something still felt off. I opened my network manager app and checked the connection history. There was a new device listed: an iPhone 16 Plus.
2
My blood ran cold. Someone had been in our apartment. So why did Chloe lie?
And if someone was here, how did they get past the smart lock without leaving a trace?
I didn’t sleep a wink. The next morning, I went back down to the management office. The friendly guard with the canines wasn’t there; a different guard wearing glasses was at the desk.
“Can you tell me if I’ve had any visitors recently?”
My apartment is a full-floor residence, so checking the elevator security footage for my level is easy. The guard pulled up the recordings for the past two weeks.
We watched the footage. Nothing. Not a single person got off on my floor. This was getting bizarre. Could the network manager app be bugged?
I was distracted and unproductive all day at work. When I got home, I collapsed onto the sofa in a foul mood.
Chloe came over, her hands behind her back, and snuggled up next to me with a grin. “What’s wrong, honey? Why the long face?”
I frowned, about to push her away, but she suddenly revealed what she was hiding. A brand new phone.
“Ta-da! I was going to wait for your birthday, but you’ve seemed so down lately, I decided to give it to you early!”
My eyes went wide. I couldn’t believe it.
It was the first new phone Iâd ever owned since we got married. I always got Chloe’s hand-me-downs when she upgraded. Even though we could easily afford it, she was always frugal when it came to electronics.
I was so happy I was speechless. “Is… is this really for me?”
Chloe beamed. “Of course! My husband works so hard. You deserve a little reward, don’t you think?” She leaned in and planted a loud kiss on my cheek.
A wave of euphoria washed over me, instantly followed by a pang of guilt.
Damn it. My wife was so good to me, and here I was suspecting her of cheating.
As for the router thing, it was probably just a neighbor piggybacking on our Wi-Fi. Or maybe the app was just glitchy.
I tore off the plastic wrap and powered on the new phone. I wanted to transfer everything from my old one. But as I went to log in with my Apple ID, I saw that an account was already signed in.
That was impossible. I had just broken the seal myself. How could it have been used before?
Did Chloe get scammed? Did she buy a refurbished phone to save a few bucks?
I stood up, ready to ask her what was going on. But then I stopped. Too many strange things had happened lately. Should I confront her now?
I hesitated. A new, darker curiosity took hold. I wanted to know who the phone’s original owner was.
I opened the photo album, hoping for a clue. There were two pictures. One was a blurry shot taken somewhere in our apartment complex. The other was taken inside my home.
And in the corner of that second photo, there was a part of a man’s handâtanned skin, long fingers.
3
Son of a bitch. Chloe was cheating on me.
Both photos were blurry, probably taken by accident when the screen was touched.
She was using my money to buy her lover a phone, and now she was giving me his hand-me-down.
Chloe. You’ve got some nerve.
We’d been together since college. All those years, and I had no idea when it had started. I worked my ass off, spending two-thirds of the year on the road, all so I could give her a good life. And this whole time, she was making a fool of me.
I shut the bedroom door, lit a cigarette, and took a long drag. Stay calm, I told myself.
Just then, the door burst open. Chloe stood there, her hands on her hips. “Leo, are you smoking in the house again?”
I stubbed out the cigarette and went to open the window. I was going to catch this bastard, and I was going to do it today.
But I still couldn’t figure it out. How did they get in and out without triggering the smart lock? I searched online for security flaws with that model but came up empty.
I turned back to Chloe and started rubbing her shoulders. “Sorry, work’s been a nightmare. I just needed one. I’m done.”
She let out a haughty little “hmph” and walked away. I used to find that aloofness charming, like a feisty little kitten. Now I knew she was just trash.
Alone again, I went to her side of the bed and opened the nightstand drawer. I counted the condoms. Two full boxes were missing. And tucked away in the back was a bottle of lube I’d never seen before.
So they were having fun.
That night, when she reached for me in bed, her hand tracing the line of my abs, I subtly shifted away. “I’m exhausted, honey. Big project review tomorrow. We should get some sleep.”
Chloe huffed in annoyance and rolled over.
The next day, I went to work as usual, but my eyes were glued to the network manager app on my phone. I was waiting for him.
It didn’t take long. Shortly after I arrived at the office, the iPhone 16 Plus appeared on my network.
Perfect. They waited until they knew I was at work.
I grabbed my subordinate, Kevin. “Something’s come up at home. I have to step out. Call me if there’s an emergency.”
“You got it, Leo!” he said.
I floored it. The car’s speedometer needle was practically screaming. I turned a fifteen-minute drive into a five-minute blur.
I parked the car and sprinted upstairs.
When I burst into the apartment, I found Chloe in the kitchen, wearing an apron, humming as she cooked. She was always a homebody when she wasn’t traveling for an exhibition.
She looked up, surprised. “You’re back? Did you forget something?”
I ignored her and stormed through the apartment, ripping open closets, checking behind curtains, looking under the bed, even scanning the balconies. Nothing.
Besides Chloe, the apartment was empty.
“Where is he?” I demanded. “The guy with the tan!”
Chloe followed me into the bedroom, her face a mask of confusion. “What man? Leo, what’s gotten into you?”
I took a deep breath, trying to control my rage. Where the hell could he have hidden?
Chloe’s voice trembled. “Leo! What is going on?”
I couldn’t keep up the act anymore. I shot her a look of pure ice.
But she just put on a gentle, concerned expression and began setting the table with the food she’d prepared. “Is work that stressful? Look how worked up you are. Since you’re here, you might as well eat. I made your favorite, braised pork.”
“I’m not hungry,” I grunted. “Too much going on at the office.”
That food wasn’t for me. Chloe was obsessive about her figure. When I was away, she lived on salads and protein shakes. The braised pork was definitely for someone else.
I turned and headed for the management office again.
“I need to see today’s security footage for my floor.”
It was the guard with the canine teeth again. He nodded and pulled up the feed. We watched it twice. The only person who used the elevator on my floor was me, leaving in the morning and returning just now. Not a single other soul.
Was her lover a damn ghost?
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My carefully cultivated Princess Scarlett roses were all ripped up by a viral reality star during filming.
Her tone was utterly innocent, âSuch pretty flowers should be made into a wreath. Your owner just doesnât know how to use them efficiently.â
âLet me make sure you reach your highest potential.â
On the show, her smile was bright as she showed off her new wreath to her fans.
Afterward, she refused to apologize and sicced her fans on me for cyberbullying.
Looking at my messy, ruined garden, I smiled, too.
âThat garden is insured for ten million dollars.â
âAccording to the contract, you owe me one hundred million!â
Chapter 1
I was startled awake by the security camera alarm. I threw on a robe and went outside.
By all accounts, my little cottage was in a remote location, and the gate was locked. Who would trespass on private property early in the morning?
But inside the yard was a swarm of people. A dozen people surrounded my property.
The beautiful climbing roses I had trained over the gate for aesthetic purposes had been violently torn down. The branches lay ripped and discarded on the ground, and the wooden gate hung crookedly on the fence posts.
A clean path had been crudely trampled right through the middle of the neatly arranged flower beds.
A few large men were carrying cameras, filming a beautiful, bright-faced girl standing in the center of the flowers.
She was casually tearing off a few blooms, weaving a wreath. âBae-bies, look how pretty this wreath is! Isn’t it perfect for me!â
âIf only I had other flowers to mix in, it would be even better.â
Her smile was dazzling, with faint dimples.
I recognized her: Maya Brooks, the hot new Hollywood âIt Girl.â I was actually watching her show.
Online, she was praised as a sweet, kind, and graceful angel.
I had always liked her, but I never expected my first encounter to be this.
Looking at the wreath on her head and the complete devastation in my garden, I was furious. âWho are you people? Who gave you permission to come in here?â
The directorâs team was startled to see someone emerge. The director paused for a second, then quickly explained, âWeâre with a reality show. Weâre filming a segment here.â
âCanât you see this is private property? You broke my gate to trespass!â
Maya took the wreath off her head. âOh, please. Theyâre just flowers. Here, take them back.â
She offered the wreath. I didn’t take it.
Seeing my refusal, Maya threw the wreath to the ground angrily. She looked me up and down, sizing me up. âHereâs five hundred bucks. Is that enough? For a country woman like you, thatâs probably all your flowers are worth.â
Her assistant pulled out a five-hundred-dollar bill and tossed it at my feet. âTake the cash and step aside. Donât interrupt Mayaâs filming.â
The director’s team tried to usher me away. A few assistants held up blocking screens, attempting to shield me from the camera.
Country woman?
I genuinely laughed. I might have just thrown on a robe and walked out with messy hair, but I was certainly not some âcountry woman.â
Trespassing, vandalizing someoneâs private property, and then trying to buy off the owner with pocket change.
You people are truly shameless.
Chapter 2
I originally just wanted them to give me a proper apology, and I would have let the matter drop.
But given their sheer arrogance, I wasn’t going to be nice anymore.
âWhat show are you with?â
The director thought I was backing down, and his voice softened. âLittle sister, weâre from the Charming Acres reality show. We just saw this beautiful little yard and wanted to film a segment.â
I scoffed. You just wanted to film, so you violently forced entry and destroyed property?
The director looked around at the damage and knew he was in the wrong. He tried to negotiate. âOkay, how much compensation do you need? Whatâs a fair price?â
I let out a light laugh. âHow much? I doubt you can afford it.â
These werenât just common roses. They were the worldâs most expensive variety, the Princess Scarlett Rose (a popular nickname for the Juliet Rose).
The Juliet Rose is notoriously difficult to grow. I had invested massive amounts of time and money cultivating them.
Moreover, I had insured the entire garden for ten million dollars.
Maya, who had been resting nearby, interrupted impatiently. âDirector, why are you wasting time arguing with a hillbilly? She just thinks five hundred is too little. Give her two thousand and get rid of her.â
I walked straight up to Maya and slapped her across the face. âHillbilly? Wasnât your family from the sticks too?â
My action was completely unexpected. Mayaâs personal assistant didn’t react in time to stop me.
Five clear fingerprints swelled on her face.
Maya clutched her cheek. Tears streamed down from the pain. âYou actually hit me! Iâm going to kill you!â
She lunged forward to attack me. I sidestepped.
She stumbled forward from momentum and fell flat on the ground.
Her assistants finally reacted and helped her up.
âWhat are you standing around for? Go hit her!â
Maya put her hands on her hips and screamed at the assistants. âYouâre all useless! Hit her!â
I clicked my tongue in disbelief. Wow. This aggressive, trashy behavior was a far cry from the âgraceful angelâ persona.
A few assistants charged at me. I didn’t panic.
I have training in Taekwondo and self-defense. I wasn’t afraid of a few low-level thugs.
âStop!â The director, as if remembering something crucial, made the assistants halt.
He then whispered something in Mayaâs ear.
The group started packing up, preparing to leave. Maya shot me a venomous glare before leaving. âYou bitch, you better watch your back!â
I glared right back. We’ll see about that.
Chapter 3
That afternoon, I was still leisurely drinking coffee when my assistantâs call came through.
âMs. Xu, youâre trending!â
âSend me the link.â
Liam, my assistant, quickly sent the link. I opened it. It was a video posted by the showâs official account.
The video was heavily edited. It only showed me entering the yard and confronting them, the director politely trying to explain, Maya offering the wreath which I refused, the assistant trying to pay me off, and then me slapping her.
The video ended right when Maya was holding her cheek, tears welling in her eyes.
The video had only been posted for twenty minutes, but it had already dominated the trending topics. The comments numbered in the hundreds of thousands.
[Who is this woman? She dared to hit our Maya! People, I need all her info now.]
[Look at that handprint! My heart breaks for her.]
[Poor Maya. Why didn’t the staff stop her?]
[What were the director and staff doing? Why didnât they protect Maya?]
[Staff, hit her back! Hit her!]
[Secretary, I need the address ASAP! Iâm going to get revenge for Maya!]
[Donât you guys think this is the showâs and Mayaâs fault? They trespassed!]
[Yeah, the video shows the yard is a mess. They must have destroyed the ownerâs property. Thatâs why she was so mad!]
[Mayaâs reaction is so catty!]
[The person above me: Our Maya offering to use those country flowers was an honor for her.]
[Side note: Honestly, this girl is quite pretty, even without makeup.]
[⌠]
A few comments spoke up in my defense, but they were quickly buried.
Maya also posted on social media: [Thanks for all the concern, babies. Iâm okay now.] She included a photo showing the faint red marks on her face.
The comments were immediately filled with support for her and condemnation of me. I didn’t want to look at them anymore.
A cropped and edited video is useless. If you want to see it, watch the full version.
The production team clearly didnât realize that my little yard was covered by hidden cameras. Their entire operation had been clearly recorded.
Chapter 4
That evening, I uploaded the complete video online. I paid Liam to run a ten-thousand-dollar ad campaign to ensure the video instantly appeared in everyoneâs feed.
Since I released the video during the peak online activity time, and all the major gossip accounts jumped on the opportunity, reposting it immediately.
By the time Mayaâs team and the production crew tried to manage the PR disaster, it was too late.
A massive wave of new comments appeared under the video.
[Reversal! Huge reversal! So this is what Maya is like in private! Unfollowed.]
[The production team is shameless! Trespassing and acting like they own the place!]
[That beautiful yard was ruined. Iâd be furious too.]
[I support the young lady! The show and Maya are disgusting.]
[That slap was epic! I love her!]
[The yard didnât say âNo Entry.â The show and Maya must have entered without knowing it was private property.]
[Besides, whatâs the big deal about borrowing a location? Why is she so petty? Maya and the show gave her publicity! The country girl should be paying them for the exposure!]
[Exactly! Maya even offered five hundred bucks! Thatâs more than enough for those flowers. She must have been holding out for more cash.]
I laughed coldly at the comments. Publicity? Entrance fee? As expected, the dogs followed their masterâequally shameless.
Just then, I heard shouting outside my yard.
âYou bitch, come out!â
âCome out! How dare you set me up and leak that video online!â
I walked out. There were three people outside: Maya in the middle, the assistant who threw the money at me, and a man I hadn’t seen before, probably her manager.
Maya was kicking my gate. Seeing me, she started screaming again. âYou bitch!â
âMs. Brooks, you know thereâs surveillance here. Should I release this footage to your fans?â
âYouâŚâ Maya glared at me, but didnât dare to move.
âMiss, my client, Maya, was impulsive today. Could you let us in so we can discuss this properly?â the manager said.
âNo need to come in. Say whatever you need to say right here.â
âWeâre here to negotiate compensation and the removal of the video.â
The manager slipped a contract through the gate. âPlease take a look.â
I flipped through the contract. It stated that Mayaâs team would pay me one hundred thousand dollars, and I, in turn, had to delete the video and publicly explain that I wasn’t the owner of the garden, but a friend watching the property.
The explanation would claim that the show had negotiated with the owner, and I, being uninformed, had interfered.
âMiss, this hundred thousand is compensation. If youâre not satisfied, we can offer you a job. What do you say?â The manager offered me a stack of cash.
âI can delete the video, but I wonât make any public statement. Also, Ms. Brooks needs to apologize to me.â I shook the stack of cash in my hand.
âYou have no right to demand an apology from me!â Maya yelled defiantly.
âWell, Ms. Brooks clearly isnât willing. In that case, thereâs no need for a contract. Youâre free to go.â I threw the hundred thousand dollars back at Maya. The bills fluttered around her. Through the gap in the gate, I could see the fury on her face.
âMaya, apologize!â the manager commanded, his voice sharp.
âNo, Iâm not accepting any apology now. Letâs just leave it at this.â I cut them off before Maya could speak.
âDonât push your luck! Do you know who my connections are? My boyfriend is the heir to the Latham Group!â
âAlex Latham?â I asked, uncertainly.
Maya thought I was terrified. Her voice was full of arrogance. âYes! Youâre terrified now, arenât you? Now, you need to kneel and apologize to me and delete the video, or Iâll make sure you can never show your face in public again!â
âWhatâs there to be afraid of? Weâll see who canât show their face in public.â
I turned and walked back inside, ignoring Mayaâs insults.
Alex Lathamâs girlfriend?
She probably doesn’t know that Alex Latham is my…
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The whole family was on vacation, but my husband, Adrian, was out with his old flame, Lily, zipping across the restricted waters on a jet ski.
Fueled by half a bottle of rosĂŠ, Lily was demanding to ride to the opposite island, promising to carve a heart in the sand for him.
Next thing I knew, she was gunning the engine, twisting the throttle all the way, and slamming straight into my brother’s yacht.
Adrian didn’t even glance at the yacht as it started to go under.
Instead, he clutched Lily’s hand, his voice a soothing balm.
“As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters. They were in restricted waters anyway. If something happened, it was their own damn fault.”
It wasn’t until the yacht had vanished completely beneath the waves, its passengers missing, that Adrian finally called me.
“Cara,” he said, his voice flat. “Your brother and your mom… they went down with the boat.”
In that instant, a tidal wave of terror swallowed me whole.
But then, the world dissolved into a blur of memory. My mother, just like when I was a kid, was popping a piece of freshly cooked steak into my mouth.
My brother, Leo, laughing as he tried to steal it.
“Mom, you always play favorites.”
They were right here, beside me. So who was on that sinking yacht?
âŚ
The beach was a circus. Police officers were yelling, trying to keep a swarm of onlookers from filming the chaos.
In the distance, I could see the splintered remains of the yacht Iâd bought for Leo.
I shoved my way through the crowd, my ears catching the hushed, angry whispers of a few people who had been on a nearby boat.
“Those two are disgusting. Not even human.”
“They were the closest! They could’ve saved them, two lives!”
“Get thisâthe woman was pissed her ‘heart’ didn’t get drawn. Like this is her private art studio or something!”
A cold sweat drenched my back. How could Adrian have become this person?
Were two human lives worth nothing in his eyes?
He was murmuring comforts to Lily when he turned and saw me. The gentle expression on his face vanished.
He dragged me away from the crowd. “What are you doing here, making a scene?”
I tried to explain, my voice trembling. “My mom and Leo, how could they have…”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed, and he cut me off. “Those rubberneckers are just spouting nonsense. You think I’d just stand by and watch people die?”
“I’m your husband, Cara. Don’t you trust me? Besidesâ” His tone softened into a pained whisper. “Lily was terrified, practically in shock. Of course, I had to take care of the living.”
I’d never heard anything so absurd. “Was her shock more important than two human lives?”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“Your brother ignored the warning signs and tore through a restricted zone going twice the speed limit. He had it coming!”
The words hit me like a physical blow. I shook with rage. “That’s a lie! That wasn’t my brother! He was trained by the best captain on the coast; he would never be that reckless!”
I pointed a trembling finger at Lily. “She was driving drunk! That alone is a felony!”
Lily shrank back, clutching Adrian’s arm like a frightened child.
“Adrian, it’s all my fault,” she whimpered.
“I was just so excited that my design made it to the finals. Cara, please don’t let this ruin your marriage. I… I couldn’t bear it if I came between you two.”
Adrian’s voice dropped to a low, dangerous warning.
“They’re already dead, Cara. There’s no point in dragging this out. Let it go.”
“This is about Lily now. This isn’t the time for your little tantrums.”
My body swayed.
This man, who had once sworn he loved me more than life itself, was now twisting the truth, discarding my family’s lives, all for his old flame.
An inferno of rage consumed me.
SMACK!
I slapped him, hard.
Adrianâs face contorted in shock. “Cara, have you lost your mindâ”
SMACK!
I hit him again with the back of my hand.
In all our years of marriage, I had never even raised my voice at him.
This was the first, and last, time I would show him this side of me.
Disbelief washed over his features. He just stared at me, speechless.
Lily threw her arms around him, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Cara, if you’re angry, hit me. Don’t hit Adrian. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You can hit me as much as you want, as long as you forgive him.”
She even grabbed my hand and tried to make me slap her own face.
I snatched my hand back, refusing to participate in her pathetic theater.
“Those two slaps, Adrian, were for the dead!”
I turned to the nearest police officer. “That yacht was a birthday gift for my brother. I’m the owner. I want to see the black box footage from before the…”
Before I could finish, a hand yanked me backward, and I crashed onto the sand.
Adrian stood over me, his voice laced with cold fury. “I’ve already signed the waiver of legal action.”
“Are you trying to make us the laughingstock of this entire beach by carrying on like this?”
I stared up at him, a sense of profound absurdity and despair washing over me.
“Adrian, you have no right to sign that for me!”
His face was a mask of ugly resentment.
“I’m your husband. Why the hell wouldn’t I have the right?”
I couldn’t stand the sight of his repulsive face for another second. I scrambled to my feet and turned back to the officer.
“I am the victim’s sister. I do not consent to any waiver. I want this investigated.”
“Please, retrieve the black box as soon as possible. We need to know who was on that yacht!”
The officer, having witnessed the whole drama, nodded agreeably.
“As soon as the yacht is salvaged, we’ll analyze the data from the recorder. I’ll make sure you’re present for the viewing.”
“Thank you!”
A thought struck me. I moved away from Adrian and quickly texted my brother.
[Lily crashed your yacht and sank it. The people on board are gone. I need you to pull the cloud surveillance footage from the yacht now. Tell me everything you find, immediately.]
Just as I put my phone away, the recovery team brought the bodies ashore.
They laid two figures side-by-side on the sand, their flesh ravaged by shark bites.
To call them bodies was a stretch. They were little more than mangled torsos.
Their limbs were gone, devoured. Most of the flesh had been stripped from their bones.
My stomach churned, but I forced myself to walk closer.
“I promise you,” I whispered to them, “I will make the people who did this pay.”
Just then, a text from Leo came through.
[HOLY SH*T! My yacht was stolen? And it SANK?! Are people dead? I bet it was that bastard again!]
[Does Adrian know? How’s he taking it? Hope he doesn’t strangle Lily in a fit of rage!]
I was confused, but before I could reply, Lily’s delicate voice drifted from behind me. “Adrian, I’m scared. I can’t look.”
Adrian wrapped an arm around her, his voice tender. “I know, they’re⌠itâs gruesome. Listen to me, go wait in the car, okay?”
But Lily refused. She stepped out of his embrace and walked to within a few feet of the bodies, offering a careless little bow.
“I’m so sorry…”
As she straightened up, a smirk twisted her lips, and she whispered just loud enough for me to hear, “But then, what can you expect when you raise such a pathetic daughter? Couldn’t even keep her man’s heart. Your husband just watched you die, and now you’re shark food.”
Her words lit a fuse, and my rage exploded.
I lunged at her, my hand clamping down on the back of her neck, forcing her down. “If you have a shred of humanity left, you will get on your knees and apologize!”
“Murderers don’t get to stand over their victims.”
Lilyâs face crumpled, and she sobbed, trying to pull away.
“Cara, I was just paying my respects! Why are you attacking me?”
“Adrian, help me! She’s trying to kill me!”
SMACK!
My head snapped to the side. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.
I turned slowly, my eyes locking on Adrian, his hand still raised.
His chest heaved with fury. “How dare you lay a hand on Lily?”
“They’re dead, Cara! We’re the ones who have to keep living! Don’t push your luck!”
“Lily came here to apologize. That’s more respect than they deserve. Your mom and brother are dead and gone, so stop asking for so much!”
“THEY’RE NOT MY MOTHER AND BROTHER!” I screamed.
I glared at Lily. “You killed those people, and you dare stand there and say these things? Are you even human?!”
Terrified I might actually hurt his precious Lily, Adrian started spouting nonsense. “Lily did nothing wrong! Your mother and brother died in an accident, and I’m signing a waiver to close the case!”
I wiped the blood from my lip. In that moment, the last shred of affection I had for Adrian evaporated.
Just looking at him made me sick.
“Adrian, let’s get a divorce.”
He blinked, a flicker of guilt and regret crossing his face before being replaced by defiance. “No! I won’t sign.”
“You’re vindictive, Cara. If we divorce, God knows what you’ll do to Lily.”
“I’m not giving you that chance!”
With that, he scooped Lily into his arms and walked away, leaving me alone on the beach.
My knees gave out, and I sank to the sand, the tears finally coming in a hot, silent flood.
I waited for hours outside the coroner’s office.
I never got the autopsy results. Instead, a weary examiner informed me that the remains had already been claimed by the family. They were to be taken, along with the salvaged yacht, to a scrap yard to be crushed and disposed of. No further investigation into the cause of death would be pursued.
I saw the signature on the release form: Adrian Pierce. A bitter cold seeped into my bones.
Wasting no time, I floored it all the way to the industrial steel plant.
The two body bags had been placed inside the wrecked yacht, which was now suspended from a massive crane, ready to be dropped into the maw of a hydraulic press.
Adrian stood watching, his face a blank mask.
Lily was nestled against him, a triumphant, excited glint in her eyes.
I sprinted forward, planting myself in front of the machine. “STOP!”
“Adrian, the cause of death hasn’t even been determined! You’re destroying their bodies! Do you want them to never rest in peace?”
My repeated interference had worn his patience thin.
He motioned for his bodyguards to grab me. “Stop making a scene!”
“This is what your mother and brother wanted. It was in their will.”
“You’re lying! Since when do my mother and brother have a will I don’t know about?”
A cold smile touched his lips. “Because you’re so overbearing, Cara. They were always too scared to tell you things like this. But they told me. Leo said that once you’re dead, you’re just bones, nothing worth keeping. He wanted to be compressed and incinerated. To leave this world cleanly.”
At his command, the giant press whirred to life.
I tried to rush forward, but he held me in an iron grip.
My eyes darted around frantically. “You’re obstructing a police investigation by destroying evidence! That’s a crime, Adrian!”
Lily stepped forward, acting as if she’d been mortally offended. “Cara, I didn’t want to say this, but you’re forcing my hand.”
“Your brother was running with a bad crowd, junkies, Cara. He was a mess.”
“This time, he was high as a kite and insisted on going into the restricted zone. What does that have to do with us?”
Before I could even deny it, Adrian cut me off.
He produced a lab report. “This is from the coroner. They found illegal substances in both bodies. You can’t deny the facts.”
“I know you’re grieving, but you can’t take it out on innocent people. Lily had nothing to do with this.”
In a few short sentences, they had shifted the blame for Lily’s reckless driving entirely onto the dead.
The workers standing around erupted.
“Drugs? Hell, getting crushed is too good for him!”
“Serves him right!”
“Junkies deserve whatever they get! No sympathy here!”
The ugly words drilled into my ears. My heart clenched for the victims, who couldn’t even find peace in death.
The operator took the opportunity to restart the press. The massive hammer began its slow descent.
I lunged forward, screaming, “Adrian, the people who died aren’t my family! Stop it, now!”
He just sneered. “Have you completely lost it? Making up ridiculous stories just to get your way.”
I remembered Leoâs text, my heart pounding with desperation. “Just stop the machine! You don’t know who’s in there! What if it’s someone you care about?”
His contempt was a physical blow. “Your mother and your brother? There’s nothing for me to care about.”
Lily clung to his arm, whispering poison. “She’s just trying to threaten you with two corpses, Adrian. She can’t stand to see us happy.”
That was all it took. Adrianâs face hardened, and he shoved me aside.
“I don’t care what you say today. Nothing is stopping this!”
He gave a sharp nod to the operator. The machine whirred, the hammer beginning its slow, final descent.
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