Category: English

  • The Kiss of Life

    I will die if I don’t kiss my mortal enemy. To survive, I became a master of emotional whiplash. One second, we’re screaming at each other. The next, I’m pinning him against the wall, locking lips. One second, I’m sneering and telling him to get lost. The next, I’m pulling him back for a desperate make-out session. Day after day, more punctual than a 9-to-5 job. Chase Sterling started looking at me like I belonged in a padded cell. I had no choice but to lean into the “psycho ex-rival” persona. Until one day, the System shrieked in my brain: [SYSTEM ALERT: Bad news, Host! Kisses aren’t enough to sustain your life force anymore!] My world collapsed. 1 Survived another day. I looked down at the man beneath me—swollen lips, shirt in disarray. Explaining this was getting harder. Since I couldn’t change myself, I had to change him. Chase Sterling was getting used to it. He lay there, sharp brows furrowed, high nose bridge catching the light, expression unreadable. I scrambled off him, backing away two steps, laughing nervously. “Haha, oops. Just… stumbled. My bad.” Chase clearly didn’t buy my BS. He twitched his mouth and hissed in pain. Guilt pricked me. I rushed it. I definitely busted his lip. Chase laughed, a cold, sarcastic sound. “You’re strong.” I didn’t dare speak. He stared at me flatly. “So you come over here, cuss me out, just so you can eat my face? Is that the play?” I stood there, forcing calm. [System, I sacrifice so much for myself.] The System comforted me: [It’s not your fault. You just love living too much.] Ever since I started relying on Chase’s lips for sustenance, I lost the moral high ground in our arguments. Chase sat up, straightening his clothes. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Even fully clothed, the muscle definition was obvious. He looked… aggressive. Afraid he might deck me, I backed toward the door, hand finding the knob. I pressed down. It didn’t budge. Right. This was Chase’s room. Haha. Why did he lock the door? Paranoid much? Chase finished adjusting his collar, leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms. He smirked, terrifyingly. “Running away again?” The System trembled in my brain: [Host, I’m scared… maybe we should kneel and apologize? Maybe he’ll get possessive, grab your waist, and give you his life instead…] I mentally cursed: [Where did you learn that trash? Fanfiction?] I chose silence. Chase chuckled softly. He walked toward me slowly, his shadow engulfing mine. “Nothing to say?” I gritted my teeth. “I’m sorry, I was wrong, I didn’t mean to. You know my life hasn’t been easy. Einstein invented the apple, Newton said pool tables falling from trees kill people, but nobody knows that today, the person I should thank most is you…” I stopped because Chase lifted my chin. He was undeniably handsome. But I swear I had no designs on him. I’ve hated his guts since kindergarten. The man is the King of Pretension. But yeah, assaulting him daily wasn’t exactly cool. Chase’s thumb pressed hard against my lip. “You owe me a lot more than an apology.” “…” My bad. 2 If depression was a talent, I’d be a prodigy. Six months ago, a car ran a red light and flattened me. I died. But not completely. I accidentally acquired a System. The System told me it wasn’t my time. But living came with a condition: I had to leech off Chase Sterling’s “luck.” Haha. Loan-sharking my own life. The problem was, Chase and I were enemies. As kids, he copied everything I did. I played with RC planes, he played with RC planes. I played with cars, he played with cars. I played with Barbies, he snatched the Barbies! Growing up, it got worse. I went on vacation; he followed. If I wore a brand twice, his closet would be full of it the next day. Whatever hobby I picked up, he was there in the next class. If I could do it, he could do it. If I couldn’t, he could. It really cramped my style. One day I snapped: “You know Dolly the sheep only lived six years, right?” He shrugged. “So? People remembered her for decades.” “…” From then on, it was war. Running in the same social circles meant constant clashes. Sarcasm was our love language. Everyone knew we hated each other. Back then, even if someone told me to my face they hated me, I’d politely reply, “Sorry, I already have someone I hate.” But since I started needing Chase to live, I visited him constantly. Our friends thought I was plotting his murder. Even when I explained I was just there to visit (kiss) him. Nobody believed me. People actually warned Chase to watch his back. That is what you call a reputation. System: [What are you proud of?] When life is on the line, dignity takes a backseat. I’ll never forget Chase’s face the first time I kissed him. I had just revived. I was disoriented. Chase rushed in from somewhere, eyes red, suit messy. I saw him and instinctively rolled my eyes. I might have hallucinated it, but he seemed to relax. He looked me over several times before straightening his tie. “You’re okay?” I snapped, “Worry about yourself. I’m fine.” System: [Cough.] I froze. Chase, seeing I was my usual prickly self, turned to leave. System: [Don’t waste the resurrection! Do it now!] 3 I closed my eyes, grabbed Chase’s arm, and yanked. Surprisingly, he stumbled toward me easily. He even bent down slightly, cooperating. He looked surprised but smirked. “What game are you playin—” I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down. His lips were warm and soft. Completely unlike his personality. My eyes were open. I saw Chase’s sharp, arrogant eyes widen in genuine confusion. A strange feeling rose in my chest. —I wanted to break his perfect mask. —I wanted to see what was underneath. Chase didn’t push me away. Probably because he was in shock. Confidence is conserved; he lost his, so I gained it. I sucked on his lip, just to be mean. He froze completely. The hospital door opened. I shoved him away, pretending nothing happened. Facing the doctor’s stare, Chase touched his ear, which was burning red, and left in shame. That night, amidst our usual chat history of insults, Chase sent a single, genuine question mark. I didn’t reply. The next day, I ambushed him at his office. Kiss, run. Day three, he caught me. “Are you sick?” I said, “This is the last time. You think you’re tasty?” Day four, he grabbed my jaw, veins popping. “Chloe, if I believe you again, I’m a dog.” Day five, he texted me the address of his business trip. I chased him around for two months. Two months was enough to convince Chase I was mentally unstable. And enough for him to accept the daily kiss tax. Not just me—Chase’s kissing technique improved drastically. I was alive, but living requires thinking about the future. Lying on the sofa, I groaned to the System: [We hate each other, and I’m assaulting him daily. When does this end?] The System sounded tired: [You call that assault… whatever, let me check…] Silence for three seconds. Then a screeching alarm. [Host, we’re screwed! This level of intimacy isn’t enough anymore!] [What???] [You need to sleep with him now!] I jumped off the couch. [Just kill me!] The System, being an AI with no physical body to harm, stayed calm. [Host, listen. Sleeping renews life faster and lasts longer. Basically, do it ten times, and you’re cured. No more contact needed.] I paused. So, if we sleep together, I can live freely? I tested the waters: […By sleep, do you mean PG-13 or…] System: [This isn’t kindergarten.] Oh. I asked with a sliver of hope: [Can I have some time to mentally prepare?] System: [Day after tomorrow, latest.] Okay. Fine. Damn you, System. 4 Saturday morning. Chase texted. [Address] [Dinner tonight.] I had one day left to live. Delay tactics. I wasn’t going to spoil him today. Me: [Busy.] Chase: [?] Chase: [Doing what?] I made something up. [Swimming with friends.] Chase took a long time to reply. Just two words. [Thirsty?] [?] I immediately understood. My fist clenched. When I learned to swim, I couldn’t breathe right. I swallowed half the pool every time. I thought I hid it well. Until the coach told me to stop drinking or he’d charge me for the water. Embarrassed, I looked around. And saw Chase watching the show. He had just finished a lap, arms resting on the deck, muscles gleaming, skin blindingly white. I rolled my eyes at him. He smirked, the bastard. “Shallow end for sipping, deep end for chugging,” he said, then swam off. The coach’s laughter echoed through the pool. I hate him. Countless moments like that. Chase haunted my life, witnessing every single embarrassment. [I’m actually mad now. It’s war!] System: […Calm down, boss!] Phone pinged. I picked it up, ready for battle. [If you don’t come, no kiss.] “…” System: [What now?] I laughed coldly. Typed: [Look at you, getting serious. I was just joking.] [Smiling_Through_The_Pain.jpg] The System laughed at me. Mercilessly.

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  • The Five-Year Secret

    When I was hemorrhaging during childbirth, dying on the table, he didn’t care. He was at Disneyland, celebrating his ex-girlfriend’s birthday. In that moment, I finally understood. Love that you have to beg for is destined to fade. Reborn, I smiled and agreed: “I’m bored too. Let’s break up!” 1 Hearing those words come out of my mouth, Julian froze. He thought he misheard. I was usually explosive. I’d catch fire at the slightest spark. How had I suddenly become so tame? He dropped the joking tone and looked at me seriously. “Chloe, do you know what I just said?” I kept the breezy smile on my face. “I know. Didn’t you say I should find someone else?” In my past life, if he said anything I didn’t like, I’d scratch him like a cat until he apologized. But this time, I chose to set him free. And free myself. Julian frowned. “Chloe, what’s wrong with you today?” Crash. Before he could finish, the sound of shattering glass came from the next table. A figure in a white dress ran out the door, sobbing. Heads turned. My brother, Zach, nudged Julian with his elbow. “Isn’t that the girl who dumped you? Sophie? You invited her?” “It’s New Year’s Eve. Breaking glass is bad luck. Did you say something to her?” Julian’s brow furrowed deeper. He stood up abruptly, ignoring me, and chased after her. The room buzzed. The crying faded into the distance, replaced by the hushed tones of a couple reconciling. I kept eating my appetizer, unbothered. Usually, with every course, I’d peel shrimp for Julian or refill his drink. He took so many work calls; I acted more like his assistant than his girlfriend. Zach noticed my lack of movement. “Whoa, no special service for Julian tonight? You treat him better than you treat your own brother.” “I swear,” Zach teased, leaning in, “sometimes I think you have a crush on him.” In the past, I would have panicked. Julian would have immediately ruffled my hair and called me his “little sister” to kill the suspicion. He didn’t want to leave any trace of our love. But I loved him so much, I was willing to hide in the dark. Tonight, I just kept eating. “Why don’t you go check on him?” Zach pressed. “He might run off with another girl.” My fork paused. “If he runs off, that’s his business.” “I’m just his ‘little sister.’ Why should I disturb him?” Zach stared at me, trying to read my face. Today was Julian’s birthday. We were supposed to announce our relationship. But he invited Sophie instead. Ten minutes later, Julian and Sophie returned. Sophie’s eyes were red. She looked tragic and delicate. Julian was holding her hand, whispering things that made her nod meekly. Zach let out a low whistle. “Julian! Sophie! Are you guys back together?” Julian’s head snapped toward me. I saw a flash of panic in his eyes. “Don’t talk nonsense. We’re old classmates. I’m just making sure she’s okay.” Zach grinned, shameless as ever. “I’m an old classmate too. Care about me?” Julian shoved him. “Get off me.” Seeing Sophie act like a wounded bird, I pulled Zach away. “Zach, stop bothering them. Let them have their moment.” I smiled brightly at Julian. “Right, Julian?” Julian froze at the formal use of his name. He looked at me with a complicated expression but didn’t say anything. He walked Sophie out. As soon as they left, the table exploded with gossip. “I knew it. First loves never die.” “Dude, Sophie gave him her kidney back in the day. He spent months by her bedside. You don’t just get over that bond.” “Since she’s back in the states, they’re definitely endgame.” My chest ached, a dull pain. Their fates were tied by flesh and blood. I was just the fool who kept his bed warm in the dark. In my past life, after we married, everything changed. He wouldn’t touch me. We slept in separate rooms. We even used separate utensils. When his parents pressured him for a baby, he finally touched me. That night, he demanded the lights be off. He kept his eyes closed the whole time, like he was enduring torture. The next day, he stayed overnight at Sophie’s. One winter, I got the flu. I was paralyzed in bed, weak and feverish. I asked him to drive me to the hospital. He said he was busy with work and hung up impatiently. Turns out, he was at the nail salon with Sophie. The staff praised them for being such a loving couple. When I went into labor, I was bleeding out on the floor. I called him, crying. He finally snapped: “It’s just having a baby! You aren’t dying. Why are you crying?” “Take an Uber to the hospital. I’m busy. Bye.” He hung up. When I called back, his phone was off. But Sophie posted on Instagram. Eight photos of Julian at Disneyland, celebrating her birthday. The center photo was them kissing. In that moment, I lost the will to live. Julian, if you don’t love me, why should I save this baby? I threw my phone out the window. I watched the blood spread. I died from blood loss. Even then, Julian thought I was acting. Back at the party, without Julian, people drifted away. I finished my meal and left. Usually, Julian would text me every three minutes. Tonight, silence. Fireworks lit up the sky at midnight. Julian, who rarely used social media, posted a story. A photo of Sophie asleep on his shoulder. Peaceful. Obedient. Caption: Her. The comments flooded in instantly. “Congrats!” “Happy Wedding!” “Soulmates!” I liked the photo. A minute later, the post disappeared. Then, my phone buzzed. A text from Sophie. [Julian drove me home. I fell asleep on his shoulder. It was too late for him to drive back, so he’s crashing at my place.] [You don’t mind, right?] I typed back: [Mn.] Whatever they did was no longer my problem. I was about to sleep when Julian texted. Syncing up their stories, I guess. [Sophie just got back to the country. She didn’t buy new clothes for New Year’s. Lend her some of yours tomorrow.] [The mall is closed. I can’t buy any now.] Reading this, my mood hit rock bottom. My new clothes. The ones I hadn’t even worn yet. I had to give them to the woman he loved? Who did he think he was? I didn’t reply. I turned off my phone. The next morning, Julian showed up at our house with Sophie. 10 AM. The doorbell rang. Zach opened the door to find Julian and Sophie holding gift bags. My whole family welcomed them warmly. Except me. Julian lost his parents young. My grandma raised him. He grew up with us. My parents treated him like a son. Julian walked in and looked at me deeply. My mom smiled at Sophie. “Is this Julian’s girlfriend? It’s been years. You got so pretty!” “Thanks, Mrs. Zhu. You haven’t aged a day,” Sophie said, charming as ever. “Chloe! What are you doing in your room? Come say hi to your Brother Julian and Sister Sophie!” I walked down, poured tea, and kept my voice respectful. “Happy New Year, Brother Julian. Sister Sophie.” Julian’s face twisted. While I was in the bathroom, he texted me. [What are you mad about?] I left it on read. Lunch was awkward. I sat in my usual spot. Julian sat next to me—Zach’s seat. Zach stared. “Bro, why are you stealing my chair? Go sit next to your girlfriend.” He pulled Julian up. After a shuffle, Julian sat across from me. As soon as he sat down, I felt like I was on pins and needles. He stared at me with dark eyes. I looked away and ate in silence. Halfway through, he took another call. I looked at his empty bowl. I swallowed my food and ignored it. When he came back, he looked at the empty bowl, then at me. Zach noticed. “It’s self-serve, man. Nobody’s fighting you for food. Don’t stress Chloe out.” My mom looked between Julian and me. She sensed something. Suddenly, she called my name. “Chloe.” “Look, Julian brought a girlfriend home.” “When are you going to bring a boyfriend home for us to see?” Julian opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to speak. I cut him off. “If you and Dad know anyone nice, introduce me.” In the past, I rejected these setups immediately. Zach choked on his water, then slammed me on the back. “Chloe! You finally opened your eyes!” “If you want a guy, I’ll set you up tonight! I have tons of handsome friends!” I laughed. “Okay.” I glanced at Julian. His lips were pressed into a thin white line. “Mom, stop joking,” he interrupted suddenly. “Sophie is just an old classmate.” My mom paused. Sophie’s smile froze. Zach, ever the agent of chaos, laughed. “So you’re single? Then why don’t we set you up with Chloe?” My heart stopped. Julian shoved Zach. “Stop it. Chloe is my sister.” The hope died. Completely. I took a deep breath and forced a natural smile. “Exactly, Zach. Don’t talk nonsense. Julian is my brother.” Julian left with Sophie right after lunch. We didn’t talk for days. I ate, I slept, I went to reunions. On the fifth day of the New Year, Zach had a class reunion.

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  • Love Game

    1 At thirty-two, my mother launched an all-out, indiscriminate matchmaking assault on me. I promptly broke up with my supermodel boyfriend of four years, packed my bags, and moved back to my hometown. My best friend was aghast. “Are you insane? Weren’t you obsessed with Julian Chase’s face and that body? You’re really letting him go?” I scoffed. “I’m not an idiot. A guy like him is fun for a fling, a little excitement. But marry him? Do I want to spend the rest of my life cycling between catching him cheating and forgiving him?” The words had barely left my mouth when a familiar voice, cold as ice, spoke from behind me. “So, Claire. Is that the reason you dumped me?” … Dragging my suitcase back to the apartment I shared with Julian, I ran into a woman walking out. She wore a flimsy slip dress, loosely covered by Julian’s silk shirt. Barefoot, she dangled a pair of limited-edition heels from her fingers. I recognized her—a rising young designer Julian had been working with recently. Allie. Barely twenty, bursting with youth. I instinctively stepped back, hiding in the shadows of the elevator bay. A few seconds later, Julian followed her out. He was wrapped in nothing but a towel, his hair still dripping, his skin flushed. He leaned against the doorframe, lit a long, thin cigarette, and looked utterly languid. After a moment, he tossed an unopened, brand-new watch box at her. “Here.” Allie’s eyes lit up. She threw herself at him with a delighted squeal. “Oh my god! Is this the Celestial collection? Julian, you’re the best!” “Picked it up in Milan during fashion week. It was nothing.” “I love you to death, baby!” Allie tried to kiss him. But Julian’s patience had worn thin. He frowned slightly, turning his head to avoid her lips. “Alright, that’s enough. Get going.” The girl wasn’t offended. She pouted, half-joking, half-complaining. “So cruel. Use me and toss me aside. Just a minute ago in bed you were calling me your little vixen.” She hugged the watch box gleefully and blew him a kiss before she left. “Bye! See you at the studio tomorrow.” Only after she was gone did I step out of the shadows. Julian clearly hadn’t expected me back from my business trip so soon. He froze for a second before his usual mask of indifference slipped back into place. “You’re back. Didn’t think to call?” I stared at him. “My flight was changed. It was late, I didn’t want to wake you.” A fresh, incriminating red mark bloomed on his collarbone, yet he showed no shame. He walked over, reaching for my suitcase. “You must be exhausted. I’ll run you a bath.” As he bent down, the towel loosened, revealing more of his sculpted torso. It was as if the last five minutes had never happened. Seeing me stand motionless, he raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?” Then, realization dawned, and a lazy smile played on his lips. “Miss me?” He leaned in close, his skin smelling of my body wash and another woman’s perfume. His hand expertly slipped under the hem of my shirt. “Then let’s get down to business first, and then—” Years of runway work and gym sessions had left his fingertips with faint calluses. They traced a path across my skin, sending a familiar shiver through me. I closed my eyes and, with a wave of exhaustion, pushed him away. I had to admit, I was addicted to Julian’s body. I’d pursued him in the first place after a single, breathtaking glance backstage at a fashion show. But maybe it was the dozen hours I’d just spent on a plane, or maybe it was the woman who had just left, but right now, all I felt was a rising nausea. I had zero interest. Julian was rarely rejected by me. He stared, stunned for a moment, and his face darkened. “What’s the attitude for?” I looked down and saw a woman’s earring, not mine, lying on the entryway rug. Julian obviously saw it too. He clicked his tongue, his expression turning impatient. A heavy silence fell between us. He pulled another cigarette from the case and lit it, smoke curling around his face. “She’s just a designer. Got drunk, had nowhere to go. I let her crash for the night.” “We didn’t do anything.” 2 I looked at him, our gazes obscured by a veil of white smoke. We couldn’t see each other’s expressions, but we both knew how pathetic that excuse was. This wasn’t the first time Julian had cheated. He was born to live among a garden of women. He was like this when I met him. At the time, my company was launching a high-end fashion collaboration. My best friend took me to meet the top supermodel of the moment, warning me that while his look was unique, his temper was foul. I’d never been impressed by models, always thinking them empty, beautiful shells. Until Julian walked in. He wore a simple black turtleneck, his posture impeccable, a few strands of hair falling across his high-bridged nose. The moment he entered, the air in the conference room seemed to still. That face, that body—it was the work of a biased creator. He glanced up, and his deep-set eyes swept over us with a careless detachment. I didn’t hear a single word he said that day. My mind was consumed with one thought: how to make him mine. After the meeting, people swarmed him, trying to get his number, but he coldly rebuffed them all. Only I persisted, waiting for him in the parking garage. After twenty-six years of being single, it was the boldest I had ever been. Julian was either annoyed by my persistence or intrigued by the novelty of it. In any case, I became his girlfriend. And that’s how it had been, until now. But I knew that in our four years together, Julian had never truly loved me. Or rather, he loved parts of me. He loved that I was independent, that I was sensible, that I could handle the messy PR crises that followed him around. He loved that I never questioned the gossip that swirled around him. Whenever I caught him, he’d offer a flimsy excuse, and I would forgive him. He once sneered that I was too pragmatic, not very womanly. He’d also joked that the day he met his true soulmate, he’d kick me to the curb without a second thought. Our entire relationship was held together by my tolerance alone. “You promised me you wouldn’t bring people home anymore,” I said, my voice low, my eyes fixed on the expensive piece of jewelry on the floor. A flicker of derision crossed Julian’s eyes. He had no intention of placating me. “Since when did you get so serious?” He leaned closer, blowing smoke in my face, his eyes glinting with malice. “Can’t handle it?” “If you can’t handle it, you can get the hell out.” He had said those words to me countless times over the past four years. Each time, it ended with me lowering my head, apologizing, and begging him not to be angry. Over time, he’d learned exactly how to control me. He knew that when he said that, I was powerless. I turned away. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” Julian’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. His brow was prominent, giving his neutral expression a severe, intimidating edge. “Claire, quit while you’re ahead. Don’t push it.” I shook off his hand and went into the guest room. A few moments later, the front door slammed shut with a deafening crash. Julian was gone. He was angry. I knew it. In our relationship, I was always the one to compromise, to soothe his ego. I had never given him the cold shoulder like I had tonight. I turned over and opened my phone. In the family group chat, my mom had sent another picture of a man. “Claire, this is the one Aunt Linda introduced. A university professor, stable and reliable. You’re thirty-two this year. It’s time to think about settling down.” I switched to my work chat. My boss had tagged me. “Claire, HQ is opening a new brand strategy department and they need a director. I think you’re a perfect fit. The resources and platform at headquarters are on a completely different level. Think about it.” My mom wanted me to come home for blind dates. My company was offering me a promotion to headquarters, which was located in my hometown. The timing, the opportunity, the circumstances—it seemed there was truly no reason for me to stay in this city any longer. I sighed. Honestly, I really did like Julian. He was handsome enough, his body was incredible, and we were perfect for each other in bed. Most importantly, he was the perfect player. Being with him was easy. I didn’t have to think about the future, and I wasn’t responsible for him. The first few years of my career were incredibly stressful. I just wanted someone to blow off steam with, but I was a hopeless snob when it came to looks. I was picky, until I met Julian. The best years of his prime were spent with me. He and his body soothed me through countless late nights when I was drowning in KPIs. And although he had a constant stream of women, he was meticulous about it—all his flings had to provide clean health screenings. I was always careful, so I wasn’t worried about catching anything. Finding another… partner… who was this compatible would be difficult. But that couldn’t be helped. Dating was one thing; marriage was another. I liked Julian a lot. But I also knew, with absolute clarity, that he was not a man to build a life with. The game was over. 3 Julian didn’t come home that night. For the next few days, he completely vanished. My texts went unanswered. My calls went straight to voicemail. Then, a red exclamation mark appeared next to my messages. He had blocked me. It was his signature move: the cold shoulder. It had happened before. Julian was a master of the silent treatment. Each time, I’d have to hunt him down at his agency or his gym, swallow my pride, and coax him until he finally unblocked me. But this time, I was busy wrapping up my work. I didn’t have time for his games. That evening, I was booking a flight to headquarters when my phone rang. It was Julian’s assistant. The music on his end was deafening, mixed with the laughter of men and women. “Ms. Sullivan? Julian’s had a bit too much to drink. He’s at the Rosemary Club. Would you be able to come pick him up?” Julian loved to party. He came from a wealthy family; modeling was just a hobby that he happened to be good at. I’d once asked him why he didn’t just take over the family business. He’d scoffed and said his father’s mistresses and illegitimate children were already tearing each other apart over the inheritance, and he couldn’t be bothered to join the fight. His grandfather’s and mother’s shares would eventually be his anyway. He just wanted to live his life as he pleased. Julian had zero ambition, which was the complete opposite of me. Whenever I landed a big account or got a promotion, I’d tell him, and he’d seem utterly bored. He once said dismissively that working yourself to death for a salary that couldn’t even buy one of his watches was pointless. I knew we were fundamentally different people. We had nothing in common except for physical chemistry. I didn’t understand his soul; I only craved his body. He ignored my ambitions and only valued my compliance. It was for the best. That way, when we parted, neither of us would be heartbroken. I thought for a moment and said I would go. I put down the phone and glanced at my flight details. Ten a.m., the day after tomorrow. I sighed. I hadn’t wanted to break up just yet. Julian and I were just so good in bed. With the stress of changing jobs, I was hoping for one last romp. I clicked my tongue, a little disappointed. But since the opportunity had presented itself, I might as well go with the flow. … When I arrived at the club, Julian was surrounded by a crowd in a VIP booth. Men and women, all impossibly glamorous and young. It was no surprise. Julian was handsome, rich, and generous. On him, even promiscuity seemed like a charming, model-esque eccentricity. I touched the fine lines around my own eyes, remembering something Julian had once said. “Claire, you’re thirty-two. Can’t you take better care of yourself? Stop living so rough.” No wonder he was tired of me. He was surrounded by girls in their early twenties. I stood on the edge of the crowd, my eyes meeting his. He saw me but looked away almost immediately. Allie was flushed, practically draped over him, her voice syrupy. “Come on, Julian, just one more drink.” Julian smiled. Under the club lights, his deep-set eyes shimmered, breathtakingly handsome but utterly devoid of warmth. “Drinking like this is boring. You feed it to me.” “How?” Julian said nothing, just lowered his gaze to her lips. A half-second later, Allie understood. A flash of ecstasy crossed her face. She tilted her head back and downed the glass of whiskey in one go. Then Julian grabbed the back of her head and kissed her, hard. It wasn’t a tender kiss; it was a punishment, an assertion of power. Allie tilted her head back to receive it, the corners of her eyes turning red from lack of oxygen. Liquor dribbled from the corner of their joined lips. The atmosphere around them erupted. Screams and whistles filled the air. I knew he was doing it on purpose. He was punishing me for not placating him that day, for daring to give him the cold shoulder. It wasn’t until I walked right up to their booth that the crowd quieted down, all eyes on me, waiting for the show. Julian looked up, his expression blank. “What are you doing here?” I looked at that face and was hit with a wave of nostalgia for the countless nights we’d spent entangled over the past four years. In the heat of the moment, we had even said we loved each other. Did it hurt? A little, maybe. But it wasn’t unbearable. After all, I had always known this was who Julian was. A flirt, always chasing the next new thing, incapable of saying no. Selfish, raised on a pedestal, always the center of his own universe, with no regard for anyone else’s feelings. My voice trembled as I spoke. “Julian, you’ve gone too far.” He looked at me. He was sitting, and I was standing, yet I felt as if he was looking down on me. He still had that same detached expression, a contemptuous smile playing on his lips. “Too far? You can always break up with me. I’m not stopping you.” I said nothing, just looked at him. I couldn’t count how many times he had threatened me with a breakup. Eighty? A hundred? A friend next to him must have thought he was going too far. “Come on, Julian, that’s enough. Look at Claire, she’s about to cry.” In fact, my eyes were red. If you’re going to act, you have to commit. As a single tear fell onto the carpet, I saw Julian’s expression flicker. The hand holding his cigarette twitched, but he remained silent, his gaze cold. The next second, I spoke softly. “Fine, Julian.” “Let’s break up.” The expression on Julian’s face froze. For a second, I thought he was going to flip the table. But instead, he laughed. The smile didn’t reach his eyes; it looked like it was squeezed out from between his teeth. “Alright, Claire. You’ve got guts now. But you remember this: I, Julian Chase, never go back for seconds. Don’t come crawling back to me like a goddamn dog.” “I won’t,” I said, nodding and wiping away my tears. Then I turned and walked away without looking back. Julian didn’t come home that night. I spent the night deleting all his contact information and packing my remaining belongings. The next morning, I was on the earliest flight to headquarters. As the plane soared into the clouds, I pulled out my SIM card and dropped it into the trash. 4 I had no further contact with Julian. Life at headquarters quickly fell into a routine. I adapted to the new department’s pace and even went on a date with a man my mother had arranged. Across from me, a thirty-year-old man in a stiff suit was pontificating. “I believe that women, before thirty, should prioritize family. Being too career-driven isn’t a good thing. What I mean is, after we’re married, you should focus more on the home, taking care of the children…” As he droned on, I smiled and stirred my coffee, fighting the urge to throw it in his self-satisfied face. When he finally finished, he pushed up his glasses. “Did you get all that? Do you have any objections?” I maintained my smile. “None at all. However, Mr. Harris, I don’t think we’re a good match. Let’s just split the bill.” I left him muttering about how “women over thirty can’t be picky” and “old maids…” In the weeks since I’d been back, my mother had set me up on no fewer than ten blind dates. Some of them were decent men, on paper. But after four years with a man who looked like Julian, I found it impossible to feel any spark of interest in these average men. This gloomy mood persisted until the corporate strategy meeting on Monday. Everyone was already there, the room silent and tense. “What’s going on?” I whispered to the colleague next to me. She leaned in. “The board brought in the heir apparent. He’s parachuting in to get a feel for the domestic market before he takes over the entire Asia-Pacific region. They say this Mr. Ekhardt is an Ivy League law grad, worked in M&A on Wall Street with a perfect record. He started his own VC firm when he came back and took it to the top in just a few years. The old chairman had to basically bribe him with shares to get him to come back. He’s a real killer. Be careful what you say.” A few moments later, a man in a dark grey three-piece suit walked in. He wore no tie, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. As he stepped into the room, an assistant respectfully took his briefcase. I looked up. For a second, it felt like everyone in the room had stopped breathing. The first thing that hit you was his presence—an aura of absolute command. He had a neutral expression, but everyone, including me, instinctively sat up straighter, afraid to meet his gaze. The second thing I noticed was his eyes—almond-shaped, tilting up slightly at the corners, framed by thin, gold-rimmed glasses. Behind the lenses, his gaze was cold and analytical. He was incredibly handsome, a completely different type from Julian. If Julian was a scorching, brilliant flame, this man was a frozen undercurrent in the deep sea. “Apologies, my flight was delayed. I’m late.” His voice was cool and crisp. He sat at the head of the table. “My name is Pierce Ekhardt. As of today, I’m in charge of corporate strategy. I’ve already reviewed all departmental reports and the last three years of financials. Let’s begin with Group A. Each person has three minutes to present their results from the past year and their plans for the future.” One by one, department heads went up, their voices trembling. Pierce was as sharp as the rumors claimed, pointing out every loophole and doctored number with precision. “I don’t like wasting time, and I don’t like being treated like an idiot,” he said, his voice level. “I prefer to communicate efficiently with intelligent people. If that proves ineffective, I will consider other methods.” He wasn’t yelling, but the directors he’d called out were sweating through their shirts. When it was my turn, my palms were slick with sweat. But I was well-prepared, and my performance over the past year was strong. Once I started speaking, my confidence returned. My education and my career were my pride, my foundation. I never slacked off at work. Pierce didn’t interrupt me. Through his glasses, I thought I saw a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. When I finished, I signaled that my presentation was complete. He nodded. “Claire Sullivan. Good work. From now on, all reports will be held to this standard.” … After Pierce’s arrival, the entire department was thrown into a trial by fire. He ruthlessly cut redundant projects and people, but he also brought in top-tier resources that had previously been out of our reach. We were working longer hours, but our projected year-end bonuses had doubled. My colleagues, especially the younger women, were captivated by him. Two new interns, perhaps having read too many romance novels, tried to get his attention. One publicly contradicted him in a meeting. The other “accidentally” spilled coffee on his custom suit and tried to wipe it off. The first one was gone the next day. The second was packing her desk that afternoon. After that, the women in the office learned their lesson. But the gossip in the break room continued. “I heard he’s single. Not even a rumor of a girlfriend. Do you think he’s inexperienced?” “No way! A man like that? People are lining up. He probably just has ridiculously high standards.” “Oh my god, did you see him in that three-piece suit today? That shoulder-to-waist ratio… If I could land him, I’d give him my entire paycheck!” … Listening to them, a thought sparked in my mind. Without Julian, this Pierce Ekhardt seemed like a far more intriguing prey. This man… I wanted to try. 5 I began to strategically place myself in Pierce’s path. He arrived an hour early every day. Three times a week, I would “happen” to catch the same elevator. It was usually just the two of us. I kept my words brief, a polite “Good morning, Mr. Ekhardt,” and then stood quietly. Every day at three p.m., like clockwork, I went to the break room for a black coffee. He usually took his break around the same time. I made sure never to run into him in the break room, always leaving just before he arrived, but making sure he saw my back as I left. Occasionally, I worked late. He would pass my desk on his way out. In short, I maximized my visibility without ever saying an unnecessary word. Finally, on the twelfth time he saw me working late, he stopped and walked over to my desk. “I’ve noticed you’ve been staying late a lot. Is the project running into trouble?” I feigned surprise, then hesitated before handing him the proposal I was working on. “It’s about the Eastside commercial real estate project. I’m a little concerned about some of the legal clauses in the partner’s contract, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I wanted to study it more.” Pierce sat down naturally in the empty chair beside me. “Let me see.” He smelled of cool cedarwood, a scent that mingled with my own subtle woody perfume, creating an unexpectedly intimate atmosphere. “This project’s risk assessment is an A-minus. It’s viable. Look at their financials from last year, their cash flow is healthy, and…” He spoke eloquently, and I listened intently, interjecting with a few highly technical questions. After he answered each one, I let my face break into a smile of comprehension. “Oh, I see! Thank you, Mr. Ekhardt. I hadn’t thought of it from that angle at all.” “You have strong professional skills, you just lack a bit of experience. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself.” He made a rare joke. “Go home early. I don’t want people thinking I’m some kind of tyrant.” I nodded, gathered my files, and we walked downstairs together. Just as we stepped out of the building, a cold wind carrying a fine mist hit me. I hesitated and stopped. Pierce, who had been walking toward his car, turned back. “What is it?” I waved a hand. “It’s nothing, Mr. Ekhardt. You go ahead. I… I just remembered I left something upstairs.” He didn’t press, just nodded and left. Five minutes later, his car pulled out of the underground garage. I was still standing under the awning at the company entrance. Pierce rolled down the window. “Didn’t drive?” I looked embarrassed. “No. It’s raining, so hailing a ride is slow. It’s fine, Mr. Ekhardt, I’ll just wait a bit longer.” “Get in,” he said. “I’ll give you a ride.” … On the way, Pierce and I talked quite a bit. He seemed surprised to find that we shared the same views on many financial news stories. Even a very niche management studies book I was reading was one of his favorites. Pierce’s demeanor gradually shifted from polite and distant to more engaged and talkative. He was so engrossed in our conversation that he drove right past my apartment complex without slowing down. I was about to point it out when he realized it himself. “Sorry,” he said. “I got carried away.” After he pulled over, I thanked him again. Pierce just nodded, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something more, but he held back. “Is something wrong, Mr. Ekhardt?” I asked, looking at him. “The scent you’re wearing… it’s nice.” The moment the words were out, he seemed to regret them, looking down and falling silent. I hid a smile. “Well, Mr. Ekhardt. See you tomorrow.”

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  • The Bet, The Bad Boy, and The Books

    After my parents kicked me out, I overheard the school’s notorious bad boy and the straight-A genius making a bet: whoever got a nude photo of me would win ten grand. I stormed into the bad boy’s house and started stripping. “Fifty-fifty split! I want five grand!” Later, they made another bet: whoever dated me first would get the coveted spot at the corporate partnership summit. I immediately found the genius. “Tutor me for a semester, and I’ll say ‘I love you’!” The bets ended. I got into Stanford. But then, they cornered me at the campus gate, demanding I pay up. Looking at the new cute guy I just added on Snapchat, I tilted my head, confused. “A bet’s a bet. Why are you guys being sore losers?” 1 My mom always called me a leech. Said I drank her milk and ate her rice but was useless because I couldn’t carry on the family name. When my little brother was born, her milk dried up. She blamed me for sucking it all dry and tried to force me to drop out of high school to work and buy formula for him. I refused. So she cut me off completely. “If you’re so tough, don’t spend a dime of my money! I feed you, clothe you, and raise an ingrate!” Fueled by spite, I stayed in school. But being broke is brutal. I slept through morning hunger pangs. At lunch, I scanned the cafeteria like a hawk, ready to swoop on leftovers. Dinner was the free bone broth soup. Standing in front of the soup pot, I held my breath and scooped deep. My eyes watered. It was a huge bone! Thicker than my leg! Jackpot. “Put that down! That’s for the manager!” a staff member yelled. I skulked away with a bowl of radish water. But hey, radish is food. As I sat down, I heard two guys whispering behind me. “Wanna bet? Ten grand to whoever gets a nude of Scarlett Shen.” I almost choked on my radish. Me? Scarlett Shen? My mom says I’m worthless, that I wouldn’t even fetch a $3,000 dowry. But my nudes are worth ten grand?! Is this divine intervention? I was about to turn around and ask where to sign up when the other guy spoke. “Not interested. Play by yourself. But how did Scarlett piss off Princess Chloe?” Chloe? I scanned my memory. Chloe Xie. The richest girl in school. Her family donated two buildings so the school would open an international program just for her. I’ve never even spoken to her. Why is she interested in my body? Is she… into girls? Just as I was considering taking one for the team, a familiar voice answered. “Bad luck. She wore the same outfit as Chloe. But Chloe is too high-class to talk to trash like Scarlett, so she hired us to handle it.” Ah. So that’s it. When they left, I turned around. It was Jax Huo, the school bad boy, and Ethan Gu, the top scholar. 2 For seven days, I slept with my window open. Neither of them showed up. Fine. I’ll do it myself. After evening study hall, I tailed Jax. He spent thirty minutes eating a late-night snack, two hours playing basketball, and took a three-mile detour before finally entering a rundown bungalow in the city’s slums. Before the door could close, I rushed up and shoved it open. Under Jax’s shocked gaze, I started stripping. “Quick! Take the pic! Fifty-fifty, give me five grand!” Jax froze for three seconds, then scrambled to pick up my clothes and throw them back on me. “Holy sh*t! Lady, who are you?! Why are you stripping in my house in the middle of the night? I’m a minor!” I paused, shirt half-on. “What does your age have to do with anything? Aren’t you trying to get my nudes?” Jax looked even more shocked. Moonlight hit my face. He finally recognized me. “Scarlett Shen?” Just then, the lights flicked on. A couple walked out of the bedroom, rubbing their eyes. They saw us and their eyes bugged out. “Jax! Why are you undressing a girl?!” Me and Jax stared at each other. Yeah, it looked bad. Before we could explain, the man grabbed a belt and started whipping Jax. “I’ll beat you to death, you animal! Bullying girls!” Jax jumped around like a monkey. “Dad! Listen! It’s a misunderstanding!” Jax’s mom stood behind, wiping tears and signing frantically with her hands. It took thirty minutes to calm them down. I lied to his mute mom that I was here for tutoring. Jax used sign language to explain to his deaf dad that he was innocent. His dad didn’t believe him until his mom explained it again. Then he glared at his son, embarrassed. 3 After sending his parents back to bed, Jax dragged me into his room. Clean concrete floor, two boxes for clothes, half the window taped up with newspaper. The only intact furniture was the bed. The desk looked like it came from a dumpster, missing a leg. Jax sprawled on a chair, returning to his usual bad-boy vibe. “Didn’t know you were this wild. delivering yourself to my door? Aren’t you afraid your photos will be plastered everywhere?” I didn’t answer. I just started taking my shirt off again. Jax panicked. He jumped up and grabbed my arm. “Sister, I’m begging you! Stop stripping! Do you want my dad to kill me?” I looked him dead in the eye. “Ten grand. Five each.” “F*ck!” Jax cursed, rubbing his temples. He looked down and saw the burn scars on my arms and shoulders. “What happened?” “Are you blind? Burns.” “I mean who did it?! Did you call the cops?” I shrugged, adjusting my tank top strap. “My dad. When he drinks, he smokes. When he smokes, I’m the ashtray.” I grinned. “But every time he burned me, Mom gave me an extra bowl of rice! Count ’em up, that’s a lot of full meals! Pretty smart, huh?” Jax looked at me, eyes complicated. His Adam’s apple bobbed, veins popping on his forehead. He sucked in a breath. “F*ck his life.” The window was broken, and the wind was freezing. I shivered. “Are you gonna take the picture or not? Hurry up. Money doesn’t wait.” “Even if I was a bastard, I couldn’t take that picture!” He paced around the room like an ant on a hot pan. Finally, he opened a drawer, threw $200 at me. “Get out!” Two hundred vs five thousand? No deal. “Can I borrow your phone? I’ll take it myself. You can claim the reward from Princess Chloe.” Jax sat down, head in hands, slamming the table. “How many times do I have to say it? I can’t do it!” 4 “Why?” I genuinely didn’t get it. “It’s ten grand! Don’t you want it? You agreed in the cafeteria!” Jax shook off my hand. “I changed my mind.” “No! Nobody stops me from making money!” We were at a stalemate for hours. I wouldn’t leave; he wouldn’t shoot. In the middle of the night, a pained groan came from next door, then silence. I frowned. “Shouldn’t you check on them? Your dad sounds bad.” Jax turned pale. “Old problem. He hates me seeing him weak. It embarrasses him.” He looked even more conflicted. Finally, he gritted his teeth. “Fine! Shoot!” I stood up straight, ready for my close-up. But he threw my clothes at me. “Shoot me!” “What?” I thought I misheard. Jax’s ears turned red. He looked mortified. “You’re flat anyway. My chest is bigger than yours! I’ll pose! Keep the face out of frame, who can tell the difference?!” Before I could process the insult, Jax took his shirt off. He handed me his phone. “Make it look good… artistic…” He groaned, covering his face. “My reputation is ruined…” I poked his arm. “How do we split the money?” “Fifty-fifty. Five grand each.” With that promise, I put my clothes back on. Money without nudity? I’d be an idiot to say no. I went to the bathroom, took off my bra, and handed it to him. “Wear this. Girls wear these.” Jax looked at the ceiling like he wanted to die. He picked it up with two fingers like it was radioactive waste. I rolled my eyes, snatched it back, went behind him, and hooked it on. The fabric touched his skin, and he shuddered like he’d been electrocuted. “My reputation… my reputation…” he whimpered. Everything ready. I opened the camera app. I frowned at the screen. “Squeeze them together. Cleavage.” “Huh?” Jax looked confused, squeezing his legs together. “Not that! Your chest!” Whatever! I reached out with my cold hands and shoved his pecs together. Jax shrieked, then clamped a hand over his mouth. Much better. I took like fifty shots. I handed the phone back. “Good enough?” Jax’s eyes were red with shame. “Yeah.” Mission accomplished. I dusted myself off to head home. High school was busy, but Mom wouldn’t let me live in the dorms. It cost $300 a semester. I walked two hours home every night after study hall ended at 9:50 PM. And I couldn’t sleep when I got home. I had to chop wood, wash clothes, and mix pig feed for the next day. After getting kicked out, I lived in my uncle’s warehouse in town. Rent was tutoring his daughter in math. It was 4 AM. Might as well go back to school for morning study. As I stepped out, Jax called out. “Eat breakfast before you go.” I froze and turned around. He was dressed, lying on his desk. “I can sleep for an hour here. You take the bed.” He closed his eyes, looking exhausted. I hesitated for a minute, then tiptoed past him to the window. I lay down on the bed. “Thanks.”

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  • The Ring in His Pocket, The Bride on His Feed

    Six years. That’s how long I’d been with Sean. So when I felt the velvet box of an engagement ring in his trench coat pocket, I thought, finally. On my birthday, I was full of anticipation. I checked my socials, expecting a sweet post. Instead, I saw a photo on his best friend’s Instagram story. It was Sean. He was walking into L’Amour, the most exclusive French restaurant in the city, with another girl on his arm. I grabbed an Uber and raced there. I stood in the entryway and watched through the glass. I watched him drop to one knee. I watched him propose to her. The entire restaurant erupted in cheers, chanting for them to kiss. After saving up disappointment for so long, I didn’t scream. I didn’t storm in and make a scene. I just quietly pulled out my phone and dialed my dad. “Dad,” I said, my voice steady. “I accept the merger marriage with the Sterling family. Let’s start planning the wedding.” 1 Dad paused for a second, then his voice practically vibrated with joy. “My sweet girl, you finally came to your senses! Marriage is about matching backgrounds, sweetheart. Tasting the simple life is fine for a while, but you can’t eat plain oatmeal forever. You deserve the feast.” “Mmhmm,” I hummed, standing alone in the lobby of the restaurant. Inside, Sean was embracing the girl amidst the applause. I felt like a wooden puppet, stiff and lifeless. Dad heard the noise in the background. “When are you coming home? You need to meet the Sterling heir. Their side has been pushing for an engagement for ages.” “In three days,” I said, watching Sean’s hands shake as he slid the ring onto her finger. “Let me wrap things up here. Then I’m coming home.” I hung up. Maybe I looked too out of place, standing there like a ghost while everyone celebrated. Sean stood up, turned, and saw me. We locked eyes across the room. He looked surprised. He frowned, just for a second, then turned back to the girl and led her to their table. Roses, vintage champagne, a live pianist playing a love song, candlelight… In six years, he had never taken me anywhere like this. I turned and walked away. I knew the guys cheering him on. They were his “boys.” The photo I saw was on his frat brother’s story. They all knew me. They knew I was his girlfriend. But clearly, they all knew about her, too. As I left, I heard them whistling. “Finally! A match made in heaven. True love wins in the end!” I smiled bitterly. To his friends, I was the placeholder. She was the main character. A sour taste filled my mouth. Earlier today, discovering that ring felt like sugar. Now, it felt like swallowing glass. I took a cab back to our apartment. There was a delivery box on the doorstep. A birthday cake. The note on top was in Sean’s handwriting: Happy Birthday to my baby. Wishing you the best. The delivery guy smiled at me, looking envious. “Miss, your boyfriend must really love you. That’s the most expensive cake on our menu. He even hand-wrote the card!” I pushed the door open and dumped the cake on the table. So, he remembered it was my birthday. He just chose to spend it proposing to someone else. I collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the empty room. My eyes started to burn. This apartment was full of us. But my boyfriend bought a ring and gave it to another woman. Looking at that cake now just made me nauseous. I sat there until the room went dark. Then, the door clicked open. 2 Sean walked in, looking windblown but triumphant. He was holding a bouquet. He walked over to me, zero guilt on his face. “Sarah, I brought you Lisianthus. Your favorite.” Lisianthus. It symbolizes unchanging, loyal love. Held in his hands right now, it looked like a punchline. I took the flowers. He thought I was fine, so he started his explanation. “Wendy… she has bone cancer. Her dying wish is to marry me. We grew up together, Sarah. She’s my childhood friend. I couldn’t let her die with regrets, so I’m getting engaged to her in three days.” He looked at me with those puppy-dog eyes. “You’ve always been so understanding. You get it, right?” It wasn’t an explanation. It was a notification. Engaged in three days? That worked out perfectly. I was leaving in three days anyway. I nodded quietly. In the past, Sean hated my “princess tantrums.” He said I was needy, always asking if he loved me. Over the years, I learned to be quiet. I learned to endure. Now, I wasn’t screaming. I wasn’t asking if he still loved me. He looked a little surprised by my calm. “I have to move out tomorrow to live with Wendy,” he added, pushing his luck. “You might have to be on your own for a few months. She’s sick, Sarah. She needs me more than you do right now.” I smiled and set the flowers down. Seeing that I wasn’t fighting back, he leaned in to kiss my cheek. I dodged him, smooth and subtle. There was a bright red lipstick stain on his collar. The sickly-sweet smell of another woman’s perfume assaulted my nose. I almost gagged. Rejected, Sean got annoyed. He didn’t say anything else, just grabbed a bag and left the apartment again. The second the door closed, I threw the flowers and the cake into the trash. Then, I started packing. I didn’t want the flowers. I didn’t want Sean. And I didn’t want anything to do with this apartment anymore. 3 The next day at work, I sat at my desk and printed my resignation letter. We met in college. When he got a job at this tech company, I followed him. I turned down my parents’ connections to start as an entry-level clerk, just to be with him. I used to hint at marriage. Sean always said he was too busy, that he needed to “make something of himself” before he could face my parents. “Career first, family later,” was his motto. I never told him about my family’s wealth because I didn’t want to pressure him. I just quietly managed my parents’ expectations. Now he was the VP. When I found the ring, I thought he was finally ready. Turns out, I was just delusional. Lisa, a coworker, walked by and saw my screen. “Sarah? You’re up for the Director promotion. Why are you quitting?” I smiled. “I’m getting married soon. I might switch industries.” Lisa beamed. “Oh my god, congrats! Love is in the air around here. Did you see VP Sean’s post? He’s getting engaged too!” “They look so good together. I heard they’re childhood sweethearts. Literal soulmates.” My smile faltered. I checked my phone. Sean had blocked me on all his personal socials. His main account was private. His work account? We only had professional exchanges there. Just then, Sean walked into the open-plan office. Wendy was with him. They were standing close. Wendy’s cheeks were rosy, her smile bright. She didn’t look like a dying cancer patient to me. Sean clapped his hands. “Everyone, listen up. This is our new Technical Director. Let’s make her feel welcome.” Lisa’s jaw dropped. She looked from me to Wendy. That was my promotion. Lisa awkwardly bowed. “Welcome, Director Wendy.” I stayed silent, gripping my resignation letter. Sean glared at me. “Sarah, everyone else greeted the new Director. What’s your problem?” Wendy chuckled softly and extended a hand toward me. “We’ll be working together closely. Please take care of me.” I reached out, but Sean snatched her hand back before we touched. “She’s a Director, babe. You don’t need to lower yourself for some entry-level employees. Come on, I’ll show you your office.” They walked off. I was left standing there with my hand extended, looking like a total clown. 4 Lisa pulled me down into my chair, whispering furiously. “Sarah, did you see that? That’s the fiancée!” “That diamond necklace she’s wearing? Sean gave it to her yesterday. It’s worth like a hundred grand!” “But seriously… parachuting her in? You’ve been busting your ass for five years. Everyone knows that Director spot was yours. That is so messed up.” I nodded absently. I was quitting anyway. Wendy taking my job just made it easier to see exactly where I stood in Sean’s life. Nowhere. I grabbed my resignation and a box of personal files and knocked on Sean’s office door. “Enter,” he said coldly. I put everything on his desk, including the handover files. He flipped through them, his face getting darker by the second. Finally, he looked up with a sneer. “Sarah, I thought you grew up yesterday. I guess I was wrong. You’re throwing a tantrum again?” He grabbed the stack of files and threw them at me. Papers flew everywhere. I dodged the heavy binder. Then, silently, I bent down and picked them up, one by one. “Just because she took the promotion?” he scoffed. “Wendy has the same degree as me. I trust her skills. What right do you have to be mad?” I stacked the papers neatly on his desk. “I’m not mad,” I said calmly. “I’m just resigning.” So, he trusts her skills because they have the same major? I majored in Jewelry Design. I got a double degree in Computer Science for him. I spent years burning the midnight oil to keep up with him. And to him, my effort was worthless. Sean looked down his nose at me. “You know you’re mediocre, right? I put you on Wendy’s team so you could learn from her. You should be grateful.” I laughed. “My time is expensive, Sean. I’m done learning things I hate.” “Fine!” he shouted, standing up. He looked like he wanted to hit me. “Get out! Good luck finding another company that will hire you!” I turned and walked out. Six years wasted on a dog. I wasn’t going to orbit him anymore, and I certainly wasn’t going to orbit Wendy. 5 At lunch, I was packing my cubicle. There was a little asteroid figurine on my desk. Sean gave it to me when we graduated. He told me I was his “whole universe.” I smirked. I almost left it, but decided to toss it in the box. As I was heading for the elevator, Wendy rushed out of her office, looking frantic. “Excuse me, everyone! My necklace… I think I lost it. Can everyone please stay put for a quick search?” The office started buzzing. “That huge diamond one?” “She’s being polite saying ‘lost.’ Someone probably stole it.” “Omg, do we have a thief? My snacks have been disappearing lately…” Sean was right by Wendy’s side. He ordered security to block the doors. They started searching everyone. When they got to me, I put my box down. Sean saw the asteroid figurine right on top. He paused for a second, then signaled the guard to dump the entire box out. Crash. My stuff scattered across the floor. The figurine shattered into a million pieces. Just like us. Security kicked through my things. Suddenly, Wendy gasped. “My necklace!” It was tangled in my charging cables. The whole office went silent, then the whispers started. “Oh my god, Sarah stole it?” “I knew she was jealous about the promotion, but this is low.” “She’s a thief? Thank god she quit. That’s scary.” My blood ran cold. I hadn’t touched her necklace. Someone must have planted it while I was in Sean’s office resigning. Sean picked up the necklace, his face thunderous. He looked at me with pure disgust. “Sarah…” He stepped on the shards of the figurine he once gave me, grinding them into dust. I looked up, and slap. He hit me across the face. Hard. “Apologize to Wendy! Why did you steal her gift?” My heart shattered completely. Being misunderstood by colleagues was one thing. But the man I loved for six years? He didn’t even ask. He just hit me. He held the necklace worth six figures in his hand, while crushing the cheap sentimental gift under his shoe. Tears welled up. “I didn’t…” He grabbed my arm and dragged me toward Wendy like I was trash. “Apologize! Explain yourself!” Wendy smirked for a split second before putting on a worried frown. She tried to help me up. I slapped her hand away and stood up on my own. Through my tears, I stood tall. “I didn’t take it. Check the cameras. I want the footage.” I looked Wendy dead in the eye. “And frankly, I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a diamond that cheap.”

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  • The Hide-and-Seek That Broke Us

    The year I turned seven, my sister and I were playing hide-and-seek when the earthquake hit. My parents pulled me from the rubble first. But the rescue teams searched for three days and three nights, and they never found where my sister was hiding. My parents, their eyes red-rimmed and raw, demanded to know where she was. I could only stare back, numb and helpless, whispering, “I don’t know… I don’t know where Lily was hiding…” After that day, my parents, who had always treated me like a princess, never smiled at me again. This time, they were going to the site of the ruins to honor Lily’s memory. When I simply said I wanted to go with them, my mother broke down again. “Get out!” she shrieked, her voice cracking. “It’s all your fault! You and your stupid game of hide-and-seek killed your sister! You wanted to hide so badly? Fine! Get in!” She grabbed me, her fingers digging into my arms, and shoved me into a large suitcase. But she forgot. It was a combination-lock suitcase. Once it clicked shut, I couldn’t push it open from the inside… 1 I curled up obediently, squeezing my body into the cramped, dark space of the suitcase. Over the years, I’d gotten used to it. The suitcase had become my secret base. Whenever Mom’s grief boiled over and she started smashing things on the table, Dad would just give me a look, and I knew what to do. I’d climb in, pull the zipper shut, and pretend I couldn’t hear a thing. Just like hide-and-seek, I started counting, silently preparing to count to ten thousand, ten times over. But this time, I didn’t finish. My limbs, twisted for so long, grew stiff and numb. My knees were pressed so hard against my chest that I could barely breathe. The stale air was thick and heavy. I clawed at the small gap near the zipper, but it wouldn’t budge. “Did you pack all of Lily’s things in the case? I’ll put it in the car.” Dad’s voice. A spark of hope ignited in me. I thought, I’ll apologize, I’ll beg him to let me out. But then the world tilted violently. I felt the suitcase being lifted, then flipped upside down. My body was hanging by my feet, the blood rushing to my head. The feeling of suffocation was immediate and overwhelming. I instinctively thrashed, pounding my small fists against the inside of the case. But the lining was too thick, and I was too weak. The desperate gasps that escaped my lips were swallowed by the sound of my parents’ voices. “The spiritual advisor said we have to burn it all,” Dad said, his voice heavy. “Her spirit is trapped. If we don’t send her things with her, she can’t move on.” “Don’t you talk to me about that!” Mom’s voice was a sharp, jagged thing. “Isn’t this all because of Ella?! She’s the one who killed Lily!” “If she hadn’t dragged Lily into that stupid game, would we at least have a body? My Lily… we couldn’t even give her a proper burial…” Her voice trailed off into a choked sob, each word weighted with an unbearable pain. My throat closed up. No sound would come out. Lily’s death was an arrow lodged in our family’s heart, its tip fused with flesh and bone. Inside the suffocating darkness, the air grew thin and foul. My head felt thick, my consciousness fading. In a daze, I thought I saw a little girl standing far away, calling out to me in a cheerful voice. “Ella! Let’s play hide-and-seek! I’m going to hide now!” I froze. It was like muscle memory. My knees gave out, and I collapsed. “No,” I whimpered. “No more hide-and-seek… I’m sorry, Lily. It’s my fault. I’m the one who killed you…” The apology I had rehearsed a thousand times in my head while locked in this suitcase came out as a jumbled, incoherent mess. What I really wanted to say was, If I could, I would trade my life for hers. Just like Mom prayed for, over and over again. When I looked up again, my soul was somehow floating outside the suitcase. It wasn’t Lily I saw in front of me, but my mother, her expression vacant. She was staring into space, muttering to herself. “Do we really have to burn it all? Lily’s things… her clothes, the doll I made for her… I dug them out of the rubble with my own hands…” Her expression shifted, the sorrow twisting into a deep, consuming hatred. “It’s all because of Ella. Lily is dead and can’t even rest in peace because of her. Don’t you think she was sent by God to punish me?” She believed what the advisor had said—that a soul needs a complete body for a proper burial, and because of me, Lily’s spirit was trapped, unable to be reborn. Dad’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. He turned his head, his face a landscape of fatigue and wrinkles, his eyes sunken. Even his voice was drained of life. “It’s been so long. Like the advisor said, Lily needs to go where she belongs. And the living… we have to move on.” He gave a bitter smile. “We can have another child. A family of three. A fresh start.” His tone was so casual, but the words made my soul tremble. A family of three. Without me. I was the thorn in my parents’ hearts they were desperate to pull out. I had always known. My face, so similar to my sister’s, was a constant, painful reminder of the life I carried on my shoulders—hers. That’s why, a few days ago, I had secretly visited several orphanages, mustering the courage to ask the directors if they took in new children. But now, looking at my own transparent body, I thought, this is better. If I’m dead, my parents won’t have to see me and feel that pain. Maybe then, in their hearts, my sin could finally fade a little. 2 The closer the car got to our old neighborhood, the more violently my mother’s body trembled. Nearly five years had passed since the earthquake. Most of the area had been rebuilt with new high-rises, but the block where our house used to stand was still a field of ruins and scarred earth. I could still remember that day, my parents clawing at the rubble like mad animals, ignoring the stones that tore their hands to ribbons, their fingers dripping with blood. “Lily loved BBQ chips. I bought a few extra bags,” Dad said, pulling the snacks from the trunk. “And some chocolate milk, too.” He carefully arranged them on a flat piece of concrete. Mom’s eyes were already swimming with tears. When Dad lifted the suitcase from the car, she lunged for it, but he held her back. “Please, just let me look one more time…” she pleaded, her voice breaking. Dad’s brow furrowed, his eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and pity. He placed his hand on the combination lock, hesitating. My non-existent heart was in my throat. Will they find out? Will they realize they took the wrong suitcase? That inside isn’t their daughter’s belongings, but their other daughter’s body? “Looking will only make it harder to let go,” Dad sighed. “Let’s not open it. It’s time to let the past be the past.” But Mom didn’t pull her hand away. As they stood in a silent standoff, Dad’s phone rang. He answered it. It was our housekeeper, Mrs. Davis, her voice frantic. “Mr. Sterling, I can’t find Ella anywhere! I don’t know where she’s hiding this time!” Mom snatched the phone from his hand, her rage instantly ignited. “Why are you even looking for her? She does this on purpose, making trouble for us on a day like this. Mrs. Davis, you lock her bedroom door. Let her hide until she rots.” A flash of irritation crossed Dad’s face as well. He told the housekeeper not to worry about it and hung up without another word. “She’s clever, that one,” Mom sneered. “Does she think if she stays out of my sight, I’ll forgive her?” The air grew heavy with unspoken resentment. Dad didn’t say anything, silently preparing to start the fire. But the flames of hatred in my mother’s eyes burned hotter and hotter. “It’s all Ella’s fault!” she spat. “It’s because of her that I can’t even keep these last few things of Lily’s. We were so good to her! How could she be so cruel? Tricking her sister into hiding during an earthquake… Now Lily is dead and can’t even be reborn. Did she hate her that much?” She hissed the words through gritted teeth, her eyes blazing. I had heard this tirade countless times. I knew my mother’s pain was a bottomless pit, and she needed somewhere to pour it. I looked at my father. The flicker of pity he’d shown for me earlier was gone, replaced by a dull, numb expression. Because of me, he’d lost his youngest daughter. Because of me, his wife suffered from a severe mental illness. Dad was a lawyer; logic and reason were the pillars of his life. But years of relentless grief had eroded those pillars. He couldn’t look at me without seeing everything he had lost. There was a time, when Mom hurt me, that he would secretly slip me candy while I was hiding in the closet. He’d lean against the door and whisper apologies. “Ella, Mommy is just sick right now. Just hide a little longer. I know it’s not fair to you.” But later, he started drinking heavily in secret. He would grab me and demand to know why, why did I have to play hide-and-seek with Lily? And then, later still, he stopped caring when Mom hit me. He would lock my door and forget to bring me food for an entire day. And now, he just said quietly, “Yes. After we send Lily off, I’ll send the child to live with her grandparents. Then… we can start over.” As if I were a piece of trash to be disposed of. My heart seemed to skip a beat. I wanted to smile, to be happy for them. They were finally escaping the nightmare, finally finding the courage to start again. But the flames in front of me were already leaping, eager to consume the last trace of my existence. My empty chest ached. Mom was clutching Lily’s little teddy bear, her expression lost. I let my soul drift into the stuffed animal, imagining I was back in her arms. A long-forgotten warmth enveloped me. I remembered when they first pulled me from the rubble. Before I could even see my surroundings, Mom had pulled me into a hug. But that last shred of warmth was shattered by a single slap, the moment I uttered the words “hide-and-seek.” 3 The fire roared to life. Dad gently took the teddy bear from my mother’s arms and tossed it into the flames. Mom’s face went deathly pale. She turned, stared at the suitcase, and then stumbled forward, throwing her arms around it. “Please,” she begged, tears streaming down her face. “Just let me stay with Lily a little longer.” Dad’s expression was a mask of tormented conflict. A wave of guilt washed over me. If they found my body in here, they would be so disgusted, so angry. My death would ruin Lily’s chance to move on. My spirit swirled around them in a panic. But I could only watch as Dad pried the suitcase from her grasp and, with a look of grim determination, kicked it into the heart of the fire. The flames crackled and hissed. “Wait! That’s not Lily’s suitcase!” Mom suddenly shrieked. Her hand trembled as she pointed at the burning case. “Lily loved pink stickers. Her suitcase had a Hello Kitty sticker on it.” Dad froze, confused. “That’s Ella’s suitcase!” I tensed, my soul vibrating with anxiety. I thought she was about to remember—that she had locked me inside, that I had never gotten out. But her next words were spat out with a familiar, venomous rage. “Weren’t you watching when you packed? How could you use Ella’s filthy suitcase for Lily’s things?! Lily will be so angry if we send her this!” Dad was stunned. I was, too. So that was it. She didn’t remember me at all. She just found the thought of my suitcase disgusting. “No, we can’t burn this disgusting thing for Lily…” Mom started scrambling toward the fire, completely frantic. Dad grabbed her, holding her back. He pulled her into his arms, trying to soothe her. “It’s okay, it’s okay, calm down. Don’t do this. It’s just a suitcase. It doesn’t matter, it won’t change anything.” He held her tight. The firelight illuminated her pale, wild-eyed face. She clamped a hand over her mouth and nose, looking like she was about to faint. Realizing how close she was to a complete breakdown, Dad’s gaze fell on my suitcase, his expression turning grim. He was probably cursing me, too. Cursing me for causing trouble even now. “That’s enough. Let’s go home,” he said, patting her back. He ignored the dying flames and quickly guided her back to the car. He gave her a pill, and once she was asleep, he sent a text message. [Thank you, Doctor. We’ve taken care of Lily’s things. Please, when the time is right, tell my wife that our daughter has been successfully reincarnated.] The reply came almost immediately. [Of course. I hope this therapy helps your wife move forward. Let’s schedule another appointment soon.] I finally understood. There was no spiritual advisor. It was all a carefully constructed act between my father and a psychologist to help my mother escape her nightmare. A brilliant plan. If it hadn’t been for me. I looked out the window at the smoldering suitcase that held my body and prayed that no one would ever find it. Let me rot in these ruins, I thought. Let me become fertilizer for my sister’s new life. But my hopes were in vain. When we got home, there were several people standing in our front yard. As Dad helped a groggy Mom out of the car, Mrs. Davis rushed forward, looking relieved. She pointed at my parents. “There, that’s Ella’s mother and father. They’re back. You can ask them.”

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  • The Midnight Confession: An Affair to Remember

    I caught Ethan talking softly on the phone late one night. His voice was intimate, laced with a tenderness I’d never known. “Sleep tight, honey. Don’t cry. I’ll be there as soon as I wrap up.” He refused to divorce me, choosing instead to torture me with his infidelity. What for? I decided to turn up the heat. I found my old college friend, Ryan, to play the part of my own ‘fling.’ We made sure to be seen in the areas where Ethan frequented. I figured, with both of us cheating, and the marriage already this rotten, he’d finally agree to a divorce. 1 It was four in the morning. I was heading downstairs for a glass of water when I heard Ethan on the balcony, his voice deliberately low. In the dead of night, his deep, tender whispers pierced the darkness. “Sleep tight, honey. Don’t cry. I’ll be there as soon as I wrap up.” A sharp pang of pain hit my chest, and my drowsiness vanished instantly. I quickly ducked down, hiding behind the stair railing. I heard him lock his phone, walk back into the master bedroom, and close the door. Only then did I exhale, concluding— He was cheating. They say when a man cheats, his wife is often divinely inspired—running into him at the most coincidental, yet inevitable, moment. Look at me: I just happened to get thirsty at this exact hour; the water in my room just happened to be gone; and I just happened to run into him making that call. If that’s not divine intervention, I don’t know what is. Ethan is nine years older than me. Back then, my dad’s company was facing bankruptcy and desperately needed cash flow. Ethan generously invested three hundred million dollars, pulling my dad out of a tight spot. Dad knew Ethan didn’t do business for charity, so he asked what return Ethan wanted. Ethan leaned back on the leather sofa, just smiling at my father. After several proposed payback plans were turned down, Dad thought of trading his daughter. “My daughter, Chloe, is gentle and beautiful. A fortune teller once said she’s a home-blessing, husband-prospering charm. Might Mr. Grant need a wife?” Ethan stopped smiling and said solemnly, “Then I’ll leave it to you, Dad.” I was nineteen, a freshman in college. Dad persuaded me, “Mr. Grant is handsome, steady, and sharp. You won’t lose out marrying him, Chloe.” A year later, Ethan and I were married. On our wedding day, I overheard his staff gossiping. They said he had a ‘one that got away,’ a first love, but since she was married, he just settled for someone else. After the wedding, I moved into Ethan’s secluded villa in the Lakeside district. For three years, I lived upstairs, and he lived downstairs. We were like neighbors, like roommates, but not like husband and wife. He was always busy. I could count the number of times we ate together on one hand. In the corporate world, he was a jack-of-all-trades: cool-headed, decisive, with impeccable foresight and sharp execution. Headlines were always showing his photos, where he looked handsome, composed, and controlled. To promote a new line of men’s clothing, he even did a personal photoshoot on the green campus of State University, where I was studying. Nearing forty, he stood quietly under the trees, blending maturity and youth, holding a perfect balance between restraint and flair. The photos caused a stir at State U. Those pictures moved my heart, too. But so what? He didn’t love me. He hadn’t touched me in three years. I was in the prime of my youth, watching my classmates cuddling and being mushy with their boyfriends. I felt a sudden sense of loss, like my spring was being nipped in the bud. The culprit was Ethan, who gambled my whole life away for some ridiculous payback. I’d brought up divorce before, two or three times every year. The first year, he replied, “Your father’s company is still shaky. Pulling out the investment now… have you thought this through?” The second year, when Dad’s company started turning a steady profit, I brought it up again. He replied, “Mrs. Grant, a marriage license isn’t a joke. It’s a lifelong commitment. Think about it some more.” The third year, he said, “It seems you haven’t made up your mind. You need to keep considering it.” It was always the cold, clinical ‘consideration,’ mixed up with family interests. To be fair, I hadn’t had a solid reason, and he had helped my family. But now it was different. He was cheating. I felt a little sad, but secretly, a little thrilled. 2 I reached out to Ryan Carter, a guy I’d recently met in a college leadership program. Ryan was sunny, handsome, the Student Body President, and a part-time race car driver. I heard he was every girl’s dream guy on campus. Once, I saw him working at a convenience store, realizing he was short on cash, so I proposed a deal. “You just need to pretend to be my boyfriend. Three thousand dollars per meeting, paid in cash. What do you say?” Ryan frowned, looking confused. “Isn’t your husband good to you? Why go through all this to get a divorce?” I didn’t want to explain, just said, “Can you handle this, Ryan? It’s a bit tricky. My husband has some serious connections, and there might be some personal danger.” Ryan gave a slight smile. “I’m only worried about your reputation, Chloe.” “You don’t have to worry. My husband is cheating, too. If he dares expose my secret, I’ll expose his. I have nothing to lose.” Ryan looked momentarily speechless, probably intimidated by the adult world. But after a moment, he took the job with interest. “Alright, I’m in.” My second step was hiring a private investigator to look into Ethan. The results came back quickly. Ethan’s ‘one that got away’ was his childhood friend, Jenny Moore, who had moved to New Zealand. She was currently going through a rough divorce. His four a.m. call was likely to her. One in the US and one abroad—it was probably just an emotional affair, but that was just as unforgivable. I instructed the P.I. to stick close to Ethan. Then, I started my own ‘cheating’ plan. Ryan and I agreed to meet in the commercial area below Ethan’s company building. The P.I. had mentioned Ethan often went to a specific Cantonese restaurant to talk business. So, I took Ryan there. I saw Ethan escorting two people into a private room called the ‘Serene Garden.’ A moment later, I caught sight of Ethan striding out. He stopped short, almost stumbling, when he saw Ryan and me conspicuously seated in the main dining hall. I pretended not to see him, laughing and chatting with Ryan, and even deliberately picked up a piece of jasmine rice and fed it to him. Then, I pulled out a napkin and gently wiped his lips. Ryan had his back to Ethan, smiling broadly at me. He was handsome, his eyes were full of playful affection, and his ears were actually red. Man, Ryan is a great actor, I thought. I needed to keep up with his pace. So, when Ryan fed me, I returned the favor with a look of pure, sweet adoration. Ethan must have been absolutely furious, ready to sign the divorce papers on the spot. He’d want to save face after the public humiliation I was putting him through. Sure enough, less than ten seconds later, my phone flashed with a text from Ethan: 【Where are you?】 I had to play the part convincingly. I glanced around nervously, acting out the guilty, stolen feel of an affair to perfection. I actually hoped he’d show up and confront me, but he seemed to have retreated. I didn’t reply right away. After a forty-minute dinner, while I was letting the food settle, I casually picked up my phone to text Ethan back: 【At the school cafeteria.】 You’ve been openly lied to by your wife. You should be blowing up! Burn, Mr. Grant, burn in the fiery pits of your rage! However, the dialogue box just kept showing ‘Ethan is typing…’ About ten minutes later, a message finally popped up: 【Hm, the food at the cafeteria can’t be good. Starting tomorrow, I’ll have the housekeeper pack you lunch and send it over.】 Me: 【No, thanks! I’m happy eating with my friends.】 Ethan: 【Be a good girl, don’t argue. Or I’ll have to personally deliver it.】 Me: 【Oh, okay. The housekeeper can do it, then.】 “…” Why isn’t he storming over to catch us red-handed? He should be signing the divorce papers in a fit of rage, so he can finally marry his ‘one that got away’ and live happily ever after! The P.I.’s report that day said: Ethan quickly ended his restaurant meeting and rushed back to the company to meet with his executive team. He wore a dark expression the entire time, snapping at anyone who dared to speak out of turn. Also, he hired someone to follow me. 3 The war had begun, and I was on high alert. That night, I purposely came home late. The villa was pitch black and silent. I thought Ethan hadn’t returned yet. The moment I stepped into the living room, I noticed a figure in the sofa’s shadow. I jumped and quickly turned on the light. Ethan looked up at me, his face drawn and weary—the kind of exhaustion that comes after a major outburst. His resentful gaze lasted two seconds, quickly masked by a forced calm. “You’re home. How was school lately?” His voice was low, all emotion carefully constrained. I replied cheerfully, “Everything’s great. And you, Mr. Grant?” “Mhm, all good.” It was as if nothing had happened. His sharp, deep-set eyes fell on my handbag, specifically the new charm dangling from it— A heart-shaped charm of two black and white swans entwined. A symbol of love. The hand resting on the sofa instinctively began to scratch at the leather. I felt like any second, he’d charge over, rip off the charm, and throw it in the trash. After five seconds of tension, he unclenched his hand, forcing an ugly smile. “What’s that?” “Just a little charm. A friend bought it for me.” I actually bought it myself, just to needle him. He nodded impassively, then offered a strained, polite compliment: “It’s nice.” My only assessment of his calm reaction: He’s a slippery snake. Time to turn up the heat again. That night, I paced between the living room, the kitchen island, and the second floor several times. I was humming a cheerful pop song: “It’s four a.m., I see the begonia blooms still awake. Perhaps a crush is hidden within the tears…” “It’s five a.m., trying to lull this longing to sleep…” His call was at four a.m., wasn’t it? Such an obvious hint—what would he think? Since the ‘cheating’ plan started, I’d changed my look. I usually went bare-faced, but now I wore light makeup. I ditched the cartoon cotton pajamas for a sleek, sexy silk nightgown. Eighty percent of my ‘college student’ innocence instantly vanished. Ethan stayed seated on the living room sofa, furiously typing on his laptop. But the corner of his eye was wrapped around my movements like a vine. He was a careful and cautious man. If he found me annoying, he could easily face the floor-to-ceiling windows. The villa sat halfway up a hill, and the view from the windows offered a stunning panorama of the city lights. He always faced the windows before. But tonight, he insisted on sitting where he could face the stairs, the island, and the entire living room. Suddenly, he asked, “What song are you singing?” “It’s a viral track, ‘Forbidden Love: The CEO’s Secret Marriage Trap.’” “Hm.” After a moment of silence, he asked, “Do you like silk nightgowns?” “Ah, haha, well…” I paused dramatically, pretending to search for a cover-up. “Lately, I just feel like they make me feel more… womanly.” The hand resting on his keyboard tensed into a fist, then slowly relaxed, and the tight line of his jaw eased slightly. Then, with a hint of dark humor, he let out a chuckle. “In that case, I should thank whoever inspired you. How considerate of them.” He slammed his laptop shut, covered the distance in a few steps, and loomed over me with intense pressure. I instinctively backed up, but he kept advancing until my back hit the wall. Then, a strong hand grabbed both my wrists and pinned them against the wall. The aggressive, dominant move forced my body flush against his. The heat of his chest seeped through the thin fabric of my nightgown, making my throat go dry. I thought he was finally going to exercise his rights as a husband. After all, his gaze was hotter than I’d ever seen, suppressing a torrent of complex emotions. “Then I absolutely must try out this damn good ‘hand feel.’” He practically bit the words out. Immediately, his warm palm traced my lower back, rubbing slowly. A wild look entered his eyes. But then he let me go, saying unconvincingly, “I tried it. It’s not good at all. Don’t wear it again.” “Some people will lie to you to get what they want. You’re still young, and you can’t tell the difference. You’ll get hurt.” His words left me one-third confused and two-thirds angry. I felt like my intelligence was being insulted. Also, I was practically advertising my cheating, and he didn’t care? Only a lack of love could produce such generosity. Or maybe, he was terrified of bringing his reputation into question. Husband and wife both cheating—this marriage was completely trashed. Yet, he could endure it all, like a ninja turtle, just to protect his image. I started drafting the divorce agreement while re-evaluating: The fire isn’t hot enough yet. 4 I woke up the next morning to music blaring from Ethan’s room: “It’s four a.m., I see the begonia blooms still awake…” After breakfast, he insisted on driving me to school, a first. I begrudgingly sat in the passenger seat. And in the car, it was again: “It’s four a.m.…” I was going insane. Was he challenging me? Was he trying to make sure I knew he was pining for Jenny? Just you wait, Ethan. Today, I’m giving you a real reason to leave! I slammed the car door shut and immediately went to find Ryan. I spotted a figure quickly dodging behind a column. A small smirk played on my lips. I wrapped my arms around Ryan’s neck and jumped up, wrapping my legs around his waist. Ryan had to quickly put his hands on my rear to support me. I admit, it was a little much, but Ethan forced my hand. Since I was already doing it, I might as well make it realistic. I planted a light kiss on Ryan’s cheek. Ryan’s acting was truly superb. He immediately flushed crimson, stammering in a low voice: “C-Chloe, is this… okay?” I behaved like a giddy freshman girl lost in the throes of romantic love, smiling like a kid who’d just been given candy. “It’s just acting. Don’t take it seriously.” A flicker of disappointment crossed Ryan’s eyes, but he quickly smiled and nodded. Ryan took the day off from his classes and spent the day dedicated to our performance. We held hands, ate, shopped, played arcade games, and watched a movie… We did everything a young couple would do. Beyond the acting, Ryan was a great companion; he made everything fun. I had a genuinely great time. That evening, before leaving campus, Ryan and I stood under the cherry blossom trees to say goodbye. I transferred his pay, plus an extra two thousand dollars. I added, “You gave me your first kiss. This is only fair.” Under the cherry blossom tree, bathed in the soft, yellow street light, Ryan was radiating a beautiful, youthful haze. He was a picture. He put a hand to his forehead and laughed out loud. Then, he cupped my face and dipped his head, gently pecking my lips. “Chloe, this is a first kiss. I took the money, so I have to deliver the service.” His voice was low and seductive. I was momentarily stunned. Then, I heard the sound of someone falling into the bushes behind us. Got him. Ryan, the drama master, was truly something.

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  • The Best Dog Money Could Buy

    My dad was the driver for the Worthington family, and my mom was their housekeeper. But I was the restless one. I spent every day glued to Ethan Worthington’s side, a fixture he couldn’t shake. He walked, I cleared the path. He ate fish, I picked out the bones. He was annoyed, I fought his battles. It took ten years, but after high school graduation, Ethan finally agreed to let me attend the same elite college as him. His buddies joked that I was Ethan’s most loyal dog. I ignored the whispers and veiled insults. They didn’t matter. Then, the family started arranging Ethan’s engagement. My best friend, Chloe, came rushing over to talk some sense into me, only to find my parents and me frantically packing suitcases late at night. “I know you like Ethan, but the gap is too huge. It’s never going to happen for you,” Chloe whispered. “Wait, what are you guys doing?” I clapped a hand over her mouth, looking around nervously. “Keep your voice down. You think this is something to be proud of?” “I finally saved up enough money from the Worthingtons to study abroad! Don’t ruin my great escape!” 1 Chloe’s face was a portrait of total bewilderment. “Wait, so you don’t like Ethan? It was all an act?” I handed my mom a towel, signaling Chloe to speak softly. “Why call it an ‘act’? My love for my Sugar Daddy was absolute and genuine!” “So all those years…” I understood her meaning and smiled slyly. “They all thought I wanted to be a sparrow flying onto a penthouse balcony, but I’m not stupid enough to dream that big.” “I provided Emotional Labor. Ethan provided money as compensation. It’s a fair trade, isn’t it?” I held up my bank book, showing a balance of half a million dollars. Savings give me security. Love doesn’t. Growing up, my family was poor. When we first arrived at the Worthington estate, I was shy and terrified of messing up and costing my parents their jobs. One day, I found Ethan, the pristine young master, sitting by the fountain in the garden. He seemed unhappy. Excited to see someone my age, I sat down and chattered endlessly. When I went back to the staff quarters that evening, I learned from my parents that he was Mr. Ethan Worthington. I was horrified and spiked a fever that night, delirious with self-reproach, terrified I’d gotten my parents fired. When the fever broke, I was relieved to find out the Worthingtons hadn’t fired my parents. They’d actually given them both a thousand-dollar raise because I had cheered Ethan up. From that day on, I started sucking up to Ethan. He walked, I cleared the path. He ate fish, I picked out the bones. He was annoyed, I fought his battles. Everyone called me Ethan’s most loyal dog. Even Ethan wrinkled his nose and told me to get lost. “Riley Chen, can you stop being so pathetic?” But I didn’t care. Thanks to my efforts, my mom was moved from the brutal kitchen staff to the front of the house, my dad became Mr. Worthington’s exclusive driver, and I got into the best private prep school in the city. But that wasn’t enough! Through college, I endured the shade and the dirty looks, pretending I enjoyed every minute. Finally, I had saved enough to move my whole family far away. My mom squeezed my hand. My dad shrugged nonchalantly. “Whatever you decide, we support you. Worst case, we do our old jobs somewhere else. I hear the pay is better overseas!” Chloe beamed: “So when are you leaving? I want to see you off.” I considered this seriously. “Three days. I’m finishing a research project with Ethan. Once that’s done, the resume entry will make my overseas applications smoother.” I was too excited to sleep that night. 2 The next morning, the cook, Mrs. W., came to my room. “Riley, the Young Master wants you. Hurry.” I was uneasy and headed to the living room, dark circles under my eyes. Inside, I heard laughter, and someone mentioned my name. “Yo, why isn’t little Riley glued to him today? Did the dog get jealous and throw a tantrum?” Ethan’s voice was cold. “Why bring her up?” “Come on, you won’t let a female mosquito near you in school, but you tolerate Riley. Don’t play dumb.” “Seriously, are you actually doing the engagement? Aren’t you worried Riley will be heartbroken and hang herself?” Ethan paused, then scoffed disdainfully. “My parents let her hang around, so what was I supposed to do? Tell her no?” “She’s fine for killing time, but the Worthington engagement is serious. Who does she think she is to influence my decisions?” The guys roared with laughter, pitying my misplaced devotion. I arched an eyebrow. Great, here we go again. I’d heard this garbage for ten years. I was about to leave. “Hey, you must be Riley Chen. Why don’t you come in?” A female voice called out. Everyone inside turned to look at me. The rich kids who had just been making fun of me looked embarrassed. When my eyes met Ethan’s, I saw a flicker of panic in his gaze. He snapped at me coldly. “Riley, what are you doing here? Don’t you know how to knock?” I was annoyed. You called me here! Now you’re yelling at me? The next second, his eyes lit up. “Phoebe, you’re here?” It was the first time I saw a genuinely soft expression on Ethan’s ice-cold face—something he had never shown me. The woman behind me was slender and elegant, clearly a rich heiress. Ah, so that’s the type he likes. From middle school through college, Ethan had an endless stream of admirers. His locker was stuffed with love letters I dutifully handled. He never stopped me. Now I knew: he wasn’t immune to love; he just hadn’t met the right person yet. “I wanted to meet Riley, so I took the liberty of calling her over. Don’t be mad at her.” The woman, Phoebe Cho, was gentle and thoughtful, yet I felt an instant hostility from her. She chose this deliberately awkward moment to call me in and humiliate me, even though a discreet call would have been easier. “Miss, do we know each other?” “You don’t know me, but I know you.” “Everyone in the circle knows how close you are to Ethan. Can I ask you for advice if I have questions in the future?” Phoebe tilted her head, looking innocent. I was instantly on high alert. When I heard her request, however, I felt a rush of excitement. A potential Sugar Mama! “Me? Sure, I’d be happy to help. I’ll share everything I know. But consultations are by the hour. You look like a lady of means, Miss. How about five hundred dollars an hour?” Silence fell. Everyone was stunned. Phoebe’s polite smile froze. I regretted it immediately, fearing I’d scared her off with the high price. Ethan’s face darkened instantly. He must have thought of something, because he scoffed mockingly. “Riley Chen, you are the daughter of our staff. Stop pretending we’re friends.” One of his buddies chimed in. “Hey, Riley, why are your dark circles so bad? Did you hear about the engagement and haven’t slept in days? We know you care about Ethan, but stop playing games.” “Sadly, no one buys it. Go back to your room.” Ethan gave a look of confirmation. “Why are you still standing there? Get lost.” My face fell into an expression of abject misery, mourning the loss of a great payday. “Mhm, okay.” Ethan looked satisfied with my suffering. 3 Back in my room, I quickly put the incident out of my mind and focused on packing. The crystal lamp Ethan had casually gifted me? Worth a few thousand. Packing it. The designer pen Ethan discarded? Definitely high-end. Packing it. I was so focused, I didn’t notice someone enter my room. “Riley Chen, what are you doing?” Ethan’s voice. I whipped around, my heart hammering. If he knew I was packing to flee, would he demand I return all this expensive loot? “I… I was just getting ready to rent an apartment, you know, to avoid any misunderstandings with outsiders.” I lied quickly. Ethan stared at the meticulously packed valuables in my suitcase, looking utterly mortified. “Riley, I’m warning you, stop dreaming. It’s never going to happen between us!” I realized he thought I was packing because I was desperate for him. But these things were worth money! I wouldn’t return them. I zipped the suitcase shut while placating him. “I know. I promise I won’t bother you again.” I meant: I won’t even have to see your face again. Ethan looked annoyed and closed his eyes. “Forget it. I just came to tell you that the Cho family is interested in my new project. Phoebe will join the team tomorrow. Stop causing trouble around her. If you don’t want to be kicked off the project, keep a low profile.” So, that woman was the engagement candidate. Ethan waited for my reaction. I frowned deeply, my eyes showing pain and reluctance, but only managed to speak after much deliberation. “If another person joins the project, will our payout be smaller?” Ethan’s face was stunned. “That’s what you thought about for that long?” I looked confused. “Well, yeah. I’m part of the team. I’m about to make money, and suddenly someone new comes in to cut the profit. Why would I be happy?” Ethan scowled and finally said coldly. “Don’t worry, Phoebe isn’t superficial like you. She’s just helping out. She doesn’t need the money.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” Ethan tested me again. “Aren’t you upset?” Upset? About a new team member who won’t take a cut? I’m thrilled! Ethan was completely fed up with my reaction, sneered, and left. I was left wondering why he was so mad. I reveled in the thought of studying abroad and crossing social boundaries. I just didn’t expect trouble to arrive so soon. And the trouble wasn’t caused by me; it was by Phoebe. 4 The moment I walked into the project office, the atmosphere was dead silent. Everyone looked devastated. Phoebe, it turned out, was in charge of liaising with the equipment investor. Yesterday, due to her poor handling, a crucial piece of equipment fell from the crane. Not only were several workers injured, but all the research data was lost. The company that paid a fortune for our findings filed a lawsuit that day, demanding compensation. Phoebe, teary-eyed, came out of Ethan’s office to find me. “Riley, Ethan wants you.” I assumed this had nothing to do with me. Surely, they wouldn’t blame me? When I walked in, Ethan’s hesitation was obvious. Phoebe followed me in, and Ethan finally spoke. “Riley, we need you to take the fall for this.” “What!” My eyes widened in disbelief. You can insult my character, but I will not be your scapegoat! Ethan impatiently tapped his fingers. “Phoebe is new. I had you overseeing the details. Did you do your job? After such a disaster, don’t you feel responsible?” My eyes welled up with genuine despair over losing the project credit. No credit, no acceptance into the foreign university! Tears streamed down my face. I cried hysterically while subtly watching their faces. “No one in this office respects me! No one treats me like a real partner! They only give me grunt work and errands.” “Even Phoebe rejected all my input.” “I have no authority! Why should I take the blame?!” I fell dramatically to the floor, adopting the pose of a soap opera heroine. “Ethan, you can despise me, but don’t you dare insult me like this!” Seeing my heartbroken display, Ethan finally spoke with patience. “The Worthington and Cho families rely heavily on this project. If Phoebe takes the blame, it damages the reputation of both families. She needs this project to establish her career. We can’t let her get a black mark.” “Look at everyone else on the team. They need this entry on their resume. You’re the exception. You only want the money. This won’t affect you.” “I will remove your name from the project logs as a public explanation.” I sat on the floor, crying silently, stubborn. Bro, why are you giving me excuses? Ask me nicely and give me the money! Phoebe looked uncomfortable. “Forget it, if Riley doesn’t want to, I’ll just beg my father for help. I’ll just have to deal with his disappointment.” Ethan looked pained, frowning at me. “Riley Chen, this isn’t a game! How long are you going to let your petty jealousy ruin things? I’ll compensate you. Name your price!” My downward gaze snapped up. There it is! That’s what I was waiting for! This tactic always worked. When I displayed mock hurt, the rich jerks always doubled down with scornful, dismissive cash attacks. They thought it was humiliation. To me, it was raining money! My fake tears were finally worth it. “Who said I don’t agree? Since you asked, I won’t be shy. Half a million dollars. Wired to my account tomorrow. No less.” Phoebe gasped. “That’s extortion!” I shrugged nonchalantly. “You know how much this project is worth. Besides, I’m taking the fall for a massive screw-up. I deserve the money. Do you really think you’re worth less than that, Miss Cho?” The resume entry was only insurance for my school application. With half a million dollars, I could pay my way into the best schools! My body was shaking with genuine excitement.

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  • Gone with the Favors

    The mission succeeded: I’d captured the villain’s heart. But victory came at a cost—I was torn from his world at the peak of our triumph. Damian Blackwood, the man I’d broken and rebuilt, coughed up blood, clutching me as if to fuse me into his soul. “Cara, trust me,” he rasped desperately, “I’ll find you. I’ll wait for you to come home.” After I left, grief hollowed me. I spiraled into depression, turned to self-harm, and was committed to a psychiatric hospital. Three years later, the System took pity and sent me back to Damian. I rushed through the night, eager to surprise him—only to overhear him talking to a friend. “Congrats on settling down with that look-alike!” Damian laughed coldly. “Congrats? She’s a gold digger who plays hard to get. But she has her price.” A smirk betrayed him. “Gotta go, my substitute has a curfew. She’ll lock me out if I’m late.” He added, “And call off the search for Cara. If the new girl finds out, she’ll freeze me out for a month.” I stood frozen. The man I’d suffered three years for, through despair and electroshock therapy, clinging to his memory even when I forgot my own name—was gone in that shattering moment. And I finally let go. … My hand found the cold brick wall, my body trembling so violently I could barely stand. System, take me back, I pleaded silently. I don’t want to be here anymore. The System had heard it too. Its usually cold, electronic voice was laced with something like pity. Three days. Fine. Just three days. I stumbled back to the tiny, rundown apartment that had once been my home, needing a place to collapse. But when I pushed open the door, it wasn’t my world inside. It was another universe entirely. My cramped 400-square-foot studio had been blown out, merged with the neighboring units to create a sprawling, multi-level penthouse. It was luxurious, dazzling, and utterly alien. Our simple wooden bed frame was gone, replaced by a monstrous European-style king. The cozy sofa I’d spent weeks picking out had vanished. And there, pressing a woman against an imported marble dining table, was Damian. He was kissing her deeply when he saw me. He froze. Instinctively, he pulled his collar up to hide a fresh bite mark on his neck. His eyes, rimmed with red, locked onto mine in a daze. “Cara,” he breathed. “You’re finally back…” I sidestepped his attempt to embrace me. A few feet away, the woman—Zoe—was wiping her mouth with a look of disgust. Her eyes met mine, and she paused, a slow, cold smile spreading across her lips. “So it’s true. Everyone says I’m your spitting image.” She pushed herself off the table. “Well, Mr. Blackwood, now that your ghost is back in the flesh, I assume I’m free to go.” Damian, still stunned by my rejection, shot her a panicked look. A wave of guilt washed over his face. “What the hell are you talking about?” he snapped, then turned his frantic gaze back to me. “Cara, don’t misunderstand. It’s not what you think…” His explanation was pathetic, empty. I laughed, a hollow sound. I unclasped the thin silver bracelet from my wrist and, walking over to Zoe, fastened it around hers. “It suits you,” I said softly. “A welcome gift.” It was the bracelet he’d given me. The one that sealed our promise. The panic on Damian’s face intensified. “Cara… are you leaving me? Don’t you want me anymore? I swear, with her, it’s—” Zoe was staring at the bracelet, lost in thought, when Damian lunged for it. “What are you looking at?” he roared. “You’re not worthy of wearing that!” But Zoe was quick. She dodged his hand, a defiant spark in her eyes. It was unclear who she was trying to provoke. “Thank you for the gift, Cara,” she said with a saccharine smile. “I love it.” Damian’s jaw clenched. He looked like he was about to verbally tear her apart, but as his eyes landed on her bright, challenging smile, he faltered. The anger drained from his face, replaced by a flicker of something else. He swallowed his rebuke and turned back to me, desperate. “Cara, I’ll buy you another one tomorrow! An identical one!” Identical. Did he think a perfect copy could fool his heart into believing it was the original? Was it the same for people as it was for bracelets? I smiled. “A gift is a gift. I’m not a fan of playing with substitutes.” Damian froze, the words hitting him like a physical blow. Zoe yawned and disappeared into one of the bedrooms. The silence between Damian and me stretched, thick and heavy. He finally opened his mouth to speak. “Cara… about her and me…” Suddenly, a piercing scream erupted from Zoe’s room. Damian didn’t hesitate. He forgot I was even there, sprinting towards the sound. Zoe was covered in angry red welts, her breathing ragged and shallow. She pointed a trembling finger at the bracelet, which had fallen to the floor. “…It… it…” A wave of fierce protectiveness washed over Damian’s face. He snatched the bracelet from the floor, and his expression instantly darkened into pure fury. He stormed back to me, his hand clamping around my wrist like a vice, all restraint gone. “What did you do to it?” he snarled. Pain, sharp and blinding, shot up my arm. Tears welled in my eyes. The wrist he was crushing was a roadmap of my despair. It was covered in deep, jagged scars from the days when the only way to feel something other than the agony of his absence was to feel pain. He seemed oblivious to the scarred, uneven skin beneath his fingers, his grip tightening with every word. “Why would you hurt her? Cara! You’ve changed!” Laughter bubbled up from my chest, wild and hysterical. A tribute to the three years I had bled for him. The searing pain in my wrist felt like a punchline. Look at that. The proof of my devotion had become the weapon he used against me. How pathetic. I don’t know how long passed before Damian was bundling Zoe into an ambulance. He shot a cold command to the housekeeper over his shoulder. “Watch the door. From now on, Cara is not to set foot in this place again.” He seemed to have forgotten. This was my home first. Before I returned, I’d spent days lost in fantasy, imagining a desperate, passionate reunion where we’d erase three years of heartache. I hadn’t even been back for a single day, and I was already being thrown out. the System chimed in. Of course it was. When Damian gave it to me, we had nothing. It was all we could afford. He had tended to Zoe like a prize flower, nurturing her until she was too fragile for my world. It wasn’t Zoe’s fault. But the injustice of it all burned like acid in my throat. I pulled out my old phone, the one I hadn’t touched in three years, and sent him the text that was long overdue. “We’re done.” Five minutes later, my phone exploded with calls from him. I just turned it off. I ended up at a bar, downing shot after shot of whiskey. A loud, cheerful voice cut through the haze. “Hey, there you are! What a surprise! The wedding’s just around the corner, can’t believe Damian would let you out to a place like this!” I looked up. The man’s eyes widened when he got a good look at my face. “…Oh. It’s Cara. You’re back?” He’d mistaken me for Zoe. I didn’t say a word, but he grabbed my arm and dragged me toward a private room. The moment we entered, the chatter died. Everyone stared. “Cara! You’re back! Does Damian know? Man, after you left, he completely fell apart. He was in the ICU for six months!” “Seriously! He was a wreck. I barely recognized him. It’s a good thing you’re back!” Someone must have called him, because five minutes later, the screech of tires echoed from the street below. Damian burst in, his eyes wild and red. “Cara, please don’t do this. Don’t break up with me. I swear, she’s just a substitute for you…” “She was drunk,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “She came onto me for money. I was in so much pain after losing you… that’s the only reason I kept her around…” The others chimed in, a chorus of condemnation. “He’s right, Cara. You’re the one who heartlessly stayed away for three years. If it wasn’t for… for Zoe, Damian wouldn’t even be alive today!” “Come on, be the bigger person! Just let it go! You’re not really going to throw him away over this, are you?” They all pointed their fingers at me, as if I were the villain. But what about my pain? Did they know I’d carved my own body until there was barely an inch of smooth skin left? That during the worst of my depressive episodes, I’d clenched my jaw so hard I nearly shattered my teeth? Did they think my friends hadn’t tried to find me a replacement for him? I remembered crying until I thought my eyes would bleed, shaking my head frantically. “Damian is Damian,” I’d whispered. “No one can ever replace him.” The crowd slowly filtered out, leaving Damian and me alone in the suffocating silence. I turned to leave, wanting nothing more than to get away from him. He caught me in the hallway, wrapping his arms around me in a crushing embrace. He sounded like a lost little boy. “Cara, please, hit me, scream at me, just… don’t leave me,” he begged, burying his face in my hair. “I can’t lose you again.” Just then, a man and a woman stumbled down the corridor. The woman was drunk, leaning heavily on the man for support. Damian glanced over, and his whole body went rigid. His pupils contracted. In a flash, he released me and launched himself at the other man, kicking him to the ground with a guttural roar. He snatched the woman, Zoe, into his own arms. His eyes were blazing red with fury. “Getting bold, are we? Meeting up with your ex-boyfriend behind my back?” I felt a dizzying sense of déjà vu. He’d looked at me with that same expression once—violent, broken, and terrified—when I’d had dinner with a male friend. Zoe kicked at his shins. “Get off me!” she sneered. “Your precious Cara is back. What are you still clinging to me for? Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for me.” Damian shot a nervous glance at me, then scoffed. “In your dreams. A money-grubbing parasite like you? I’d never fall for you. But what about you? Getting a little jealous, are we? Did you fall for me?” Zoe shoved him away and helped her ex to his feet. “You’re not worthy,” she spat. Damian’s rage boiled over. He grabbed Zoe’s arm, yanking her away from the other man. In the struggle, a ring flew from her finger, sailing through an open window and into the dark river below. Zoe froze. Her eyes filled with panic. “Damian! That was my mother’s! It’s all I have left of her!” Damian stared, his anger vanishing, replaced by shock. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he vaulted over the railing and plunged into the icy water. I closed my eyes, a single tear tracing a cold path down my cheek before splashing silently onto the floor. Damian was terrified of water. I had begged and pleaded with him for months, but he refused to even set foot inside a public pool. And yet, for her… Damian, I thought, a bitter ache spreading through my chest. Are you really sure she’s just a substitute? Even Zoe looked stunned, staring at the flailing, desperate figure in the river. Half an hour later, he hauled himself back over the railing, shivering, his face pale as death. He held up the ring like a trophy, then tossed it at her with disgust. “Tch. Only someone from the gutter would treasure a cheap piece of junk like this.”

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  • The Price of Confession

    It was my coming-of-age party when I finally confessed my love to my non-biological uncle. The next day, my reward was a one-way ticket out of the country. Years later, when I was ravaged by bone cancer, my body slowly decaying, I was forced to beg him for help. But his girlfriend, his supposed ‘white moonlight,’ spread rumors that I was promiscuous abroad and had contracted a venereal disease. My uncle immediately brought me back, locking me away in a dilapidated seaside mansion, claiming it was to prevent me from infecting innocent people. Without timely treatment, my condition worsened drastically. On a night of torrential rain, unable to bear the agony any longer, I climbed out the window and threw myself into the unforgiving ocean. It took a full year after my death for Liam Hayes to finally remember me. 1 Liam Hayes arrived at the Star-Moon Cove Estate, only to find the entire building eerily empty. He violently knocked over the antique screen in the living room, shattering glass everywhere. “Lily Carter, stop playing these childish hide-and-seek games! Get out here now!” The broken shards reflected the harsh sunlight, and only dust danced in the blinding glare. Liam retreated to the doorway, covering his nose and mouth to avoid the stirred-up grime. After a long silence, he spoke again, his voice cold: “You’re a well-bred woman, how could you become so reckless and indecent!” “Look at the state you were in when you came back! Even I, your uncle, feel disgusted. You’ve completely disgraced the Hayes name!” “If it weren’t for Alexa Reynolds constantly vouching for you, I would have truly disowned you and washed my hands of you forever!” My spirit stood right in front of him, silently letting out a bitter laugh. “Lily Carter, I’m warning you, if you continue to be stubborn.” “I won’t hesitate to keep you locked up here for the rest of your life until you completely understand how wrong you are!” Liam finished, and seeing no response, he impatiently waved his hand, signaling the security team to search upstairs. A moment later, several guards stumbled down, their faces pale, as if they had seen something terrifying. His private assistant, Sarah Chen, approached him, trembling as she whispered: “Mr. Hayes, the tip-off call might have been real. Ms. Carter… she’s passed away.” Liam’s brows furrowed as he spat out a cold response: “Suicide? Nonsense. She’s just staging another drama for sympathy. She’s been pulling these stunts since she was a kid!” He strode up to the second floor, finally noticing the dark brown bloodstains covering the hallway walls. Liam’s face darkened as he threw open door after door. “Lily Carter, what kind of trick are you pulling now!” “Do you think I’ve been too lenient with you all these years, giving you the license to act so brazenly!” My soul followed him until he stopped in front of a locked room. Blackened blood had seeped out from under the door crack. He had locked me in here, calling it ‘isolation,’ and only left me a few thin pieces of clothing. For the first few days, I was allowed to move around the estate. When the pain hit, I paced the hallways, and when it was unbearable, I banged my head against the wall. I desperately tried to use new pain to drown out the burning rot in my bones. But soon, the guards complained that my screams were disrupting their peace. Seeing that Liam never visited or even called, as if he had utterly forgotten me, they locked me in a second-floor room with a specialized heavy-duty lock on the outside. From then on, I was like a caged animal, confined to that small space. Every time the sickness flared up, I writhed in agony on the bed. When the pain was truly unbearable, I crawled to the door, slamming my body against it until blood streamed down my forehead. I didn’t dare make a sound, because any noise brought a beating. In my worst moments, I ripped strips from the bedsheet, stuffing them in my mouth to bite down on. I begged the guards, pleaded with them to call Liam. But they just laughed coldly, kicking me away and saying Mr. Hayes was too busy planning his engagement with Ms. Reynolds. He had no time for a contaminated piece of trash like me. I refused to believe Liam could be so heartless, so I kept begging. Finally, one of them, fed up, dialed that familiar number right in front of me. The moment the call connected, I choked out that I had bone cancer. My whole body was rotting, and I begged him to save me. I told him the reports were in my luggage; he just needed to look to know I wasn’t lying. But he cut me off immediately: “Lily Carter, Alexa was right. You’re nothing but lies, always spinning some yarn!” “You’re unrepentant, now trying to fake an illness to manipulate me?” “If you’re really so desperate to die, go ahead! I’d like to see if you have the guts!” After he hung up, I was beaten, then thrown back into the room. Now, Liam’s eyes were fixed on the rusty padlock. He ordered someone to break it open, his face grim as he stood outside the entrance. “Lily Carter, how long are you going to keep this up?” “Ever since Alexa and I got together, you’ve done nothing but oppose her.” “You’ve said so many terrible things about her to me, yet she has always been the bigger person, never holding a grudge.” “If Alexa hadn’t noticed you had contracted a disease, you would have died alone overseas!” “Lily Carter, you know I’m impatient. Get out here now!” Liam waited a few moments, then furiously shoved the door open. 2 “Lily Carter, you have truly disappointed me! I shouldn’t have listened to Alexa and come to get you!” The instant the door flew open, Liam froze. My spirit stood beside him, observing the scene. The room was exactly as I had left it. The sea wind rushed in through the broken picture window, fluttering the ripped, tattered curtains. The window frame was rusted from years of sun and rain, screeching with every gust—a sound Liam usually despised. But now, his face showed no impatience, only stunned disbelief. From his perspective, the sight was indeed shocking. The floor was covered in dried, black blood, and dark red streaks marred the walls and doorframe. The bedding was shredded, and the pillow was stained with splotches of blood. Even the last piece of curtain was gone—the guards had torn it down, terrified I might hang myself and implicate them. I passed away on the morning after my final, desperate phone call to Liam. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from an entire night of suffering, but the sea breeze that morning felt surprisingly gentle. In a haze, I remembered being seven years old, after my parents died. It was Liam who brought me to the Hayes household, becoming my sole anchor. I endured unimaginable pain, forcing myself to dislocate my own arm. I had to crawl out through that window that hadn’t been properly secured. The guards quickly noticed the commotion. As they watched in horror, I plunged myself into the raging waves without hesitation. Panicked and clueless, they frantically called Liam. But that day was the morning of his engagement party with Alexa Reynolds, and the call was immediately rejected. Liam was too busy greeting guests and didn’t have the patience to listen to their full report. Maybe he caught a few fragments, but he dismissed it as another one of my attempts to grab his attention. He coldly instructed: “Don’t bother reporting anything about her to me again.” Liam walked to the window, staring down at the turbulent sea. He gave a scornful, icy laugh. “Lily Carter is always a scaredy-cat. Jump in the ocean? Impossible.” “Alexa is right, she’s too manipulative. She needs to face the consequences.” “Call the guards who were assigned here. I want to question them.” Sarah Chen rushed in again shortly after. “Mr. Hayes, all those guards quit right after Ms. Carter… passed away.” “Should we send a team to search the coastline?” He scoffed. “What’s there to search? If she truly jumped, her body would have washed up by now, and the police would have notified us.” “She’s putting on a show, thinking she can fool everyone!” “But she’s too naive. I know her too well; she can’t fool me.” Liam ordered his assistant to continue searching the estate. “I want every single corner checked. She has to be brought to me today.” “She and Alexa both have that rare blood type, and Lily has donated to Alexa before.” “Alexa is seriously injured and needs Lily to be on standby!” My spirit stood behind him, overwhelmed by sorrow. He locked me up here for so long, never asking about me. Now he appears, only to use me as a mobile blood bank for Alexa Reynolds. I thought I was special to him. He was never like this before. From age seven to seventeen, I was his favorite little girl. And I fell hopelessly in love with the non-biological uncle who was five years my senior. Then Alexa Reynolds showed up, and everything changed. Alexa was the one lying, but Liam only believed her, refusing to hear my side. At my eighteenth birthday party, I mustered the courage to confess, but he merely chastised me coldly. He told me he was my guardian, and I shouldn’t harbor such inappropriate feelings. The next day, he shipped me overseas. Clearly, Alexa’s manipulation was at work, causing Liam to lose all faith in me. She even defamed me, saying I had a dirty disease, which led Liam to lock me away in this seaside prison. Now that Alexa was wounded and needed a donor with a rare blood type, they remembered their human blood bank. Too bad they didn’t know my remains had long been scattered by the waves. “Mr. Hayes, those guards witnessed Ms. Carter jump into the sea. I honestly think she was faking her illness…” “I’m afraid… there’s no chance of survival.” “I know you don’t want to believe it, but their account was very detailed, and they didn’t seem to be lying.” “If we call the police and initiate a search, we’ll know the truth soon enough.” Liam said coldly: “She’s a great actress; she even managed to fool all of you!” “She must not want to donate blood to Alexa, so she’s hiding. She’s probably off having a good time somewhere!” “Freeze all her accounts. She’ll come crawling back when she runs out of money!” With that, Liam hurried away from the estate, rushing to the hospital to be with Alexa. My spirit followed him, unable to stop myself. 3 Liam arrived at the hospital in a rush. Seeing Alexa in the hospital bed, his expression instantly softened. “Feeling better? Is your wound still hurting?” Alexa spoke weakly: “It’s fine now. See how well I look? I don’t even need to stay hospitalized.” Liam picked up the paring knife on the bedside table, carefully peeling an apple for her, whispering: “If you hadn’t taken that blow for me, you wouldn’t be so badly hurt.” “I won’t feel at ease until you’ve fully recovered.” “Alexa, you are the most important person in my life. Don’t ever risk yourself like that again.” He used to speak to me with that same tender tone, saying those exact words. But since Alexa’s arrival, I was no longer the most important person in his heart. Alexa suggested that since I was his non-biological niece and an adult now, we should maintain a professional distance. From then on, all matters concerning me were handled by Alexa. She even hid the diagnosis of my bone cancer while I was overseas. Instead, she spread rumors that I had a venereal disease. Under the guise of caring for me, she locked me in the seaside estate, but she never visited me once. Now that Alexa was attacked and needed a rare blood type, they remembered their living blood bank. Too bad they didn’t know my body had been torn apart by the sea. “Liam, is Lily still refusing to come back? Is she still angry with me?” Alexa said, trying to get out of bed, fumbling for her slippers: “Let me go find her. I’ll apologize to her personally.” Liam quickly stopped her: “Alexa, you were doing what was best for her. She’s being ungrateful, it’s not your fault.” “I’ve already frozen all her funds. I’ll find her soon, I promise.” “Don’t worry, I will make sure she comes here to donate blood for you.” He carefully held the peeled apple slice to Alexa’s mouth. “By the way, Alexa, did Lily mention feeling unwell while she was abroad?” Alexa’s face shifted slightly as she stammered: “No, she didn’t. She’s always been so healthy, barely even gets a cold.” “Liam, why are you asking?” Liam looked thoughtful: “Nothing much. When I went to the estate today, I noticed a lot of blood in her room.” “But you’re right. She’s always been robust. How could she have any serious illness?” Alexa secretly breathed a sigh of relief. My soul was agonizing beside him, desperate to tell Liam that Alexa was deceiving him again. But I was helpless. Even if he could hear me, he would only choose to believe Alexa. In his eyes, I was just a petty girl twisted by jealousy. Alexa tentatively asked: “Liam, since Lily doesn’t want to come back, why don’t we just let her go?” “As long as she’s happy.” Liam’s face instantly turned cold. “Absolutely not! Your safety is paramount, and she has the same blood type as you.” “The doctor said you might need a second transfusion, and the hospital blood bank is running low.” “I raised her for years. Now it’s time for her to repay me!” “It’s just a little blood. Even if it costs her life, she should be willing to do it!” In that moment, my spirit trembled violently. How could Liam say something so cruel? He had promised to always be my family. He promised I would never feel abandoned again. Had he forgotten all that? Alexa lowered her head, a smug smile playing on her lips, as if she had just heard the sweetest words. So, this is how happy she was after I left. Alexa always pretended to be understanding, yet she constantly slandered me to Liam. Even now, she was hiding the truth, making Liam despise me even more. “Liam, don’t talk about Lily like that. She’d be so upset if she heard.” Even in this moment, Alexa was playing the benevolent saint. Liam let out a dismissive, cold laugh. He was about to speak when his phone suddenly rang. I saw the screen display “Ethan Hayes”—his uncle who worked for the police. Liam answered the phone, his entire body freezing instantly. A heavy voice came from the other end: “Liam, Lily is dead!” 4 Liam stood still for a few seconds, then spoke coldly: “Uncle Ethan, has she fooled you too?” “I can’t believe she managed to trick even a detective like you!” Ethan Hayes on the other end was clearly angered by his attitude. “Liam, what is wrong with you? Weren’t you the one who adored Lily the most?” He paused, then continued: “We received a civilian report today about skeletal remains found on the rocks near Star-Moon Cove.” “DNA comparison confirms the deceased is Lily Carter.” “She’s been dead for a full year.” “The autopsy report shows she suffered from advanced bone cancer.” “She endured unimaginable pain and ultimately chose to jump into the sea.” Liam suddenly interrupted: “Impossible! It can’t be her! You must have made a mistake!” “Liam Hayes, forensic evidence doesn’t lie.” “As her legal guardian, you need to come and claim the remains.” Ethan finished, adding a few more harsh words of reprimand before hanging up. Liam looked as if all the strength had been drained from him, his face pale as a ghost. Alexa, seeing his state, quickly asked with concern: “Liam, what happened? I’ve never seen you look like this.” Liam slowly recovered. He stared intently at Alexa on the bed, his gaze chilling and unnerving. Alexa couldn’t meet his eyes, nervously grasping his hand: “Liam, what is it? Why are you looking at me like that?” Liam violently shook off her hand and strode toward the door. “Ah! My wound hurts! Liam, my stitches are tearing open again!” Liam stopped, turning back to look at her coldly: “Alexa Reynolds, you are the master manipulator. I will never believe another word you say!” “Liam…” Alexa struggled to get out of bed, chasing him to the doorway: “I love you so much. How could I lie to you?” “We’ve been together for so long. Don’t you know me at all?” Liam stared at her, enunciating every word: “Not lying to me? Alexa, you are a phenomenal actress!” “You told me it was inappropriate for a man like me to raise Lily.” “So I handed over everything about her to you!” “And what did you do?” “You deliberately concealed her bone cancer diagnosis, causing her to miss her only chance for treatment.” “Then you framed her with a dirty disease, making me lock her in that seaside estate to die!” “Her only cry for help was destroyed by you!” “Lily is gone forever!” With that, he slammed the door shut and left. My soul followed him again. Liam drove recklessly into the night, his car a blur. He clenched his jaw until a trickle of blood seeped from his lip. He seemed to be suppressing something immense until he stopped at a red light. Finally, he rested his head on the steering wheel and burst into agonizing sobs. “No way. Uncle Ethan has to be wrong!” He suddenly looked up, violently slamming the steering wheel, screaming inside the car: “Impossible! This isn’t real! I don’t believe it!” The light turned green, but his car remained motionless. Amidst the chorus of horns behind him, someone opened his car door. It was Ethan Hayes. Without a word, he slapped Liam hard across the face and dragged him into the back seat. “Liam Hayes, what in God’s name are you doing!” “When Lily begged you for help, you ignored her.” “Now that she’s dead, who is this performance for!” “She was such a good kid, and you talked about her like she was worthless. Did you even know the real her?” “Wake up! She’s dead! She’s never coming back!” Liam slumped in the back seat, sobbing uncontrollably, his grief tearing through him. He barely managed to compose himself by the time they reached the police station. “Uncle Ethan, I can’t let Lily’s death be in vain. I need to find out what really happened!” Ethan looked at him deeply, only sighing without speaking. He took Liam to process the identification paperwork. When Liam saw the skeletal remains, he broke down again. He trembled, pointing at the bruised and fractured bones, his voice choked: “Is this… is this the damage from her bone cancer? How much pain was she in!” “And I knew nothing! I, her uncle, killed her! I don’t deserve to be her family!” Ethan retrieved an object from the evidence bag—her only surviving possession. “You certainly didn’t deserve to be her guardian, yet she saw you as her only support in the world.” “Do you remember this bracelet? You gave it to her the year she came to the Hayes house.” “She took nothing with her when she died, except this.” “But there were people who couldn’t even stand to let her keep a simple bracelet.” “Look at the bloodstains. They tried to forcibly rip it off more than once.” “Even when it dug into her skin, she never took it off.” “And you? You knew nothing! You believed everything Alexa Reynolds told you!” “Liam Hayes, you’re a genius in business, so how could you be so utterly blinded by one woman in this matter?” Liam took the bracelet, clutching it tightly, weeping uncontrollably. “I let you down, Lily. I’m taking you home right now!” Ethan sighed again, handing him a blood-stained strip of fabric. “Lily’s final wish was for her ashes to be scattered into the sea so she could be free forever.” Liam’s trembling fingers unfolded the cloth. There was a single, darkened line of blood writing. It was what I had written just before I died, using my bitten finger. I didn’t want to return to that house. I only wanted complete freedom. But Liam ignored my wish, stubbornly insisting on taking my ashes home. My spirit could not find rest, so I had to continue following him.

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