Category: English

Every time my wife brought her assistant into our bedroom, she’d make me kneel by the bed, waiting. If the assistant didn’t know what to do, she’d even make me guide them through it. Each time, I’d obediently wait for them to finish, then step forward to fetch them drinks. Eleanor would grip my neck, her eyes burning with a twisted intensity: “Don’t you feel jealous?” I’d shake my head. I even thoughtfully prepared their Durex. Eleanor, furious, would unleash her rage on me, forcing me down onto the bed, over and over again. The next morning, I’d still be there, kneeling by their bed. She’d clench her jaw, her voice dripping with contempt: “You’re a grown man, Callum. You’re truly despicable!” I’d just look at her and smile. She still didn’t know, but I was dying. Coming home, the scene on the couch was one I’d witnessed countless times. Noah had his back to me. Hearing my footsteps, he turned, a sneering, provocative smile playing on his lips. Eleanor deliberately let out sounds loud enough for me to hear. I acted as if I saw nothing, tied on my apron, and headed into the kitchen. I chopped vegetables, waiting for the sounds from the living room to cease, then turned to clean up after them. Noah’s throat always seemed dry afterward, needing honey water to soothe it. I’d silently kneel, presenting the honey water to him with both hands, like some ancient, subservient attendant. Eleanor was touching up her makeup, glancing at me, her brows furrowing in irritation. “Crash!” Noah deliberately loosened his grip as he took the glass. The scalding honey water shattered on the floor, splashing all over me. “Oh! Bro, are you okay?” He rushed to help me up, but not before viciously pinching my arm. I gasped, sucking in a sharp breath. He leaned his head towards me. Eleanor couldn’t see the cruel expression on his face, nor the threatening glint in his eyes: “How could you be so clumsy, Bro? If you don’t want to serve, I can do it myself. No need to make such a fuss.” I gritted my teeth, suppressing the pain, and forced a smile: “How could I trouble you with something like this?” Saying that, I escorted him back to his seat, while I knelt to clean up the mess. My hands and knees were covered in small cuts. The honey water stung, making me tremble. But I bit back the pain, acting as if I felt nothing. I even lifted Noah’s foot to wipe away the sticky honey water. “You can go home.” Eleanor tossed Noah’s clothes at him. “Ms. Kingston?” “There’s nothing left for you here.” Noah shot me a resentful look, then put on his clothes and the Patek Philippe watch Eleanor had bought him, and left. I remained kneeling on the floor, utterly silent. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get up; my knees were cut, and moving them sent sharp pangs through me. “Do you still have nothing to say?” Eleanor’s voice was cold. I shook my head. She clenched her jaw. “It’s just the two of us here. I can assure you there are no listening devices!” “Truly nothing.” Eleanor snapped her cigarette in half. She grabbed my neck with one hand, while the other held up a photo of a woman: “You and I both know she’s the killer. Why won’t you testify? What’s your relationship with her?” I looked at the woman in the photo and let out a bitter laugh: “I don’t know her.” “Then why are you protecting her?” I met Eleanor’s furious gaze head-on: “I’m not protecting anyone.” She shoved me roughly to the floor, pacing back and forth in agitation. “Hasn’t my brother been good enough to you?” Thinking of Leo, my eyes welled up. I shook my head: “He was the best friend I ever had.” She grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at her: “Is this how you repay him? By letting the animal who killed him get away with it?” I couldn’t speak. Her anger flared as she slammed photos of Leo’s brutalized corpse in front of me. The horrific sight of my dear friend, covered in wounds and hanging from a tree, made me gasp and cover my eyes. That image was the nightmare of my life. “You can’t bear it either, can you?” She forced me to look at her: “Then tell me what that vile woman did! “I promise you, as soon as you testify, I’ll send Noah away!” My eyes were red, but I managed a slight smile: “No need.” Her hand, gripping my shoulder, froze. “Are you really willing to watch him and me do *that* right in front of you, forever?” “It doesn’t matter.” “Slap!” A stinging slap landed hard on my face. Her fists trembled uncontrollably: “Callum Kingston, you’re truly despicable!” “You’re truly despicable…”

That sentence felt like another burning slap on my face. The Eleanor I knew in the past would never have uttered such words. Back in school, if anyone dared to mock my grades, she’d stand with her hands on her hips, forcing a dozen people to apologize to me. After we married, her care was boundless. If my fingertip had a tiny scratch, she’d hold it and blow on it for ages. I genuinely believed we’d continue like that forever. That she’d always love me so deeply. “Eleanor…” I couldn’t help but speak her name. She spun around, a flicker of hope in her eyes. I tried to get up but fell heavily to the floor. My heart ached with sharp pangs, and a sudden flashback brought Leo’s death before my eyes. I clutched the fabric over my heart, looking up, only to see the door slowly opening from the outside. Noah had never left. He peered down at me through the crack, then raised a finger to his lips, making a “shhh” gesture. “What were you going to say?” Eleanor waited, her gaze fixed on me. I shook my head. She walked towards me: “You definitely have something to say.” “Ms. Kingston.” Noah’s voice called from outside. Eleanor’s body tensed. Yet, she remained rooted to the spot, waiting for me to speak. I glanced at Noah’s anxious face, then pulled out a box of Durex and held it out: “Don’t forget these.” Eleanor laughed, a harsh sound born of sheer fury. She hurled the box of Durex at my face, then turned and walked away. Noah was the one who closed the door. His red lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he watched my conflicted expression. He slammed the door shut. I leaned against the wall, clutching the fabric over my heart. Not yet… I had to wait a little longer, just a little longer. I searched every room in the sprawling estate before finally finding a small first-aid kit to treat my wounds. For the next month, Eleanor didn’t come home. Then, one day, the front door was suddenly kicked open. Eleanor rushed in, supporting a bloodied Noah, followed by a team of professional private medical specialists. This team had originally been meant for me, given my poor health. They had been dismissed shortly after Leo’s death. Eleanor paced anxiously outside the room, listening to Noah’s pained cries. She suddenly grabbed me, her grip like iron: “Why did you push him down the stairs?” I froze, stunned. “Did you know I was over a month pregnant and deliberately targeted him?” I looked towards Noah in surprise. His sharp brows were slightly furrowed, and he didn’t look particularly pained, yet his wails were exceptionally piercing. He shot me a threatening look. I suddenly smiled: “Yes, what about it?” Eleanor seemed taken aback. She carefully studied my expression: “Do you know what you’re saying?” “I do.” “Aren’t you going to explain yourself?” “There’s nothing to explain.” “If you admit it, I will sue you for aggravated assault.” My body stiffened. I looked at her, a hint of surprise in my eyes. She stared fixedly at me: “Either you tell me the truth about my brother’s death, and I can overlook this.” I glanced at Noah. I took a deep breath: “You will know.” Hope flared in her eyes. “But not now.” Her grip on my shoulder tightened fiercely, and her eyes reddened: “What is your relationship with that killer? You’d rather go to jail than betray her!” “I told you, Eleanor. I have no relationship with her.” A person in extreme anger can sometimes lose the ability to speak. She gritted her teeth and nodded: “Do you think I won’t dare to sue you?” I just looked at her. She shoved me away.

Three days later, I received a court summons. The moment I pleaded guilty in court, Noah raised an eyebrow, a triumphant smirk on his face. Only Eleanor’s face was chillingly grim. She had specifically hired the most elite lawyers. After meticulously picking through legal clauses and over-interpreting my actions, they stretched my sentence directly to eight years. She came to visit me. “If you testify for Leo, I have ways to pull some strings and get you out.” I just smiled and looked at her: “Ms. Kingston, take care of yourself.” I likely wouldn’t be leaving this place alive. Her breath hitched. A look of pain crossed her face: “You know perfectly well! That night, it was just that vile woman and the two of you! You saw everything, didn’t you?” I remained silent, an unspoken acknowledgment. “Back in high school, when you could only afford one meal a day, Leo used his own allowance to eat with you. Have you forgotten all that?” Tears welled in my eyes, but I shook my head: “No.” “Then why won’t you speak?” My eyes were red as I looked at her: “Not yet.” “Do I have to die before you’ll say anything?” I still shook my head. It wasn’t her who would die; it was me. By then, without a word from me, the killer would be brought to justice. But if I told her that, I feared she would lose her mind. If all went as planned, the truth of the case would be revealed while I was in prison. But less than a month later, the court inexplicably overturned my conviction and declared me innocent. I was released from prison, utterly confused. Eleanor stood waiting in front of a Rolls-Royce. On the way home, we didn’t exchange a single word. Only after we entered the house did I say to her: “Thank you.” She paused, her steps faltering. Without looking back, she walked upstairs: “Callum Kingston, you’re truly despicable.” I smiled. But tears streamed down my face. Eleanor needed to focus on her pregnancy, so she stopped bringing men home to flaunt in front of me. We lived in the same house but were like strangers. Even when we met face-to-face, she’d pretend not to see me, walking straight past. She wouldn’t touch the food I cooked anymore. I showed no reaction, simply continuing to do my own things in silence. Finally, a month later, she couldn’t take it anymore. She knocked on my door herself, a slight scent of alcohol on her. “Let’s talk properly.” Her eyes were slightly red. I invited her in. We rarely sat together so calmly, as we did today. “I’m begging you, please testify for Leo, okay?” Her tone was utterly subservient: “If you agree, I can abort the baby. I can even give you my fortune.” I shook my head: “No need.” “Who exactly is Serena to you?” Serena, that vile woman who led people to kill Leo. “I’ve said it many times, I have no relationship with her.” “How can I believe that?” Her eyes reddened: “You’d protect Leo’s killer for someone you have no relationship with?” I looked directly into her eyes: “Eleanor, on the day the baby is born, you will surely know the truth.” “I can’t wait another day!” She suddenly stood up, agitated: “Callum Kingston, if you don’t explain yourself today, I’m cutting all ties with you!” My heart clenched violently. Eleanor’s expression was no joke. I pursed my lips, then nodded: “Alright.” I’d spent long enough by her side. It was enough. Her breath hitched. Her hand gripping my shoulder trembled slightly. “Say that again.” “Us separating, that’s fine too.”

She laughed, a profoundly bitter sound: “Do you think I’m joking?” I didn’t answer. She slammed the door and left. That night, divorce papers were shoved in front of me. I was to leave with nothing. I picked up the pen to sign. But she grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “Think carefully before you sign.” I nodded: “I have thought about it.” Then I slowly began to write, her hand still gripping my wrist, slowly lowering as my signature formed. The moment the agreement was signed, she snatched it away, a quick, defiant gesture. Her face was full of disappointment: “I misjudged you.” I closed my eyes. That very day, I was driven out of the estate. With no money to spare, I found a small 300-square-foot rental room. And I quietly waited for the moment of my judgment. I could almost see Serena being brought to justice on the day I died. My breathing became erratic, my hands trembled. Then, I could finally go to Leo, bringing with me the justice he deserved. But that moment didn’t come. Instead, Eleanor’s bodyguards arrived. They dragged me back. The first thing I saw was Noah, covered in blood, lying on a bed. Blood covered his lower body. Dark circles rimmed Eleanor’s eyes; she hadn’t slept in what seemed like ages. Seeing me, she slapped me hard across the face: “Didn’t you say you didn’t care if I kept the baby? Didn’t you say you’d accept anything? “Why did you destroy his dignity as a man!” I was utterly stunned. Noah trembled in pain: “Bro… if you didn’t want me to have a baby with Eleanor, I could have left. Why did you have to torment me in such a cruel way, to completely destroy me?” Eleanor kicked me hard in the knee, forcing me down to the ground: “I will find those thugs you hired and ensure those animals who did this to him die a horrific death! “But… you, I can give you a chance.” She lifted my chin, squeezing my jaw until it ached: “As long as you’re willing to testify, I can have my team defend you, reduce your prison sentence by a few years.” Cold sweat streamed down my face from the pain. I managed to speak with difficulty: “I’m afraid… I can’t do that.” “What do you mean?” “Because I’m dying.” She laughed, a harsh, furious sound: “At a time like this, you’re still protecting that vile woman, Serena? “Let me tell you, I won’t give you another chance. You will testify, whether you want to or not!” With that, she grabbed my hand and viciously snapped my ring finger. My wedding ring was still there. I let out a heart-wrenching scream. “Will you speak?” She gripped my chin: “What exactly did Serena do to my brother that night?” I was drenched in sweat: “You’ll know when I’m dead.” Her eyes turned bloodshot. She seemed to think I was challenging her. “Do you really think I wouldn’t let you die?” My index finger, too, was broken. “Will you speak?” “Kill me.” Tears streamed down my face: “Kill me, and you’ll know everything.” Her eyes were terrifyingly red. She nodded: “Fine, I’ll grant your wish.” She picked up a wrench. And aimed it at my fingers. “No… Eleanor, wait… Ahh!!” One by one, all ten of my fingers were brutally smashed. But what hurt even more was my heart. I lay on the ground, my lips turning purple. Eleanor’s hand, holding the wrench, trembled slightly: “If I hurt you, I’ll go to jail with you.” I coughed up a mouthful of blood, my mangled fingers using their last strength to rip off my shirt buttons. “You want to know the truth? I’ll give it to you.” Seeing the hideous scar on my chest, Eleanor’s wrench clattered to the floor with a “thump!” “Callum?” She stared at the gruesome scar over my heart, utterly stunned.

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My husband’s ex-girlfriend, Candace, had illegally operated in financial trades, causing my clients colossal losses. In their fury, they brutally mangled my hands, leaving me permanently disabled. I was rushed to the hospital. In my last hazy moments of consciousness, I heard Julian, my husband, whisper to the doctor: “Just save her life. As for her hands… they’d be better off useless.” The doctor, confused, replied: “But Ms. Scarlett’s hands can still be saved!” Julian’s voice was cold, like it had been dipped in ice: “Only if her hands are ruined will she completely exit the trading market. That way, Candace can finally become Chief Analyst this year.” “Once the storm passes, I’ll spend my entire life making it up to her.” “Isn’t being Mrs. Julian more valuable than a mere analyst’s career?” The anesthetic flowed into my veins, and my world plunged into darkness. So, all his tenderness and consideration these past years were just to pave the way for his first love. It’s just a Chief Analyst position. Candace wants it? She can have it. Julian? He can have her too. All of it. I want none of it.

After my wounds were stitched, Julian and his assistant didn’t leave. His assistant whispered, “Mr. Julian, Scarlett’s hands are ruined. She can’t possibly threaten Candace’s position anymore. Do you really need to let those reporters in to take more photos?” Julian’s eyes were chillingly cold: “Of course I know that, but I won’t gamble with Candace’s future. Only by completely destroying her reputation can I truly be at peace!” “Once she’s Mrs. Julian, I’ll naturally make sure these scandals disappear.” The hospital room door swung open, and several reporters with cameras surged in. I curled up on the bed in terror. The blinding flashbulbs, the acrid smoke, the cloying perfume—it all merged into a suffocating assault. Even the sterile cold of the VIP room made me want to gag. “She seems to be waking up? Should we give her another sedative?” Ben, the assistant, hesitated: “The dosage is already beyond the limit. Another injection could be life-threatening.” Julian commanded coldly: “Do it! I’ll take responsibility if anything happens!” “But…” Ben still hesitated, but Julian snatched the syringe and, without a moment’s pause, pushed the liquid into my vein. I forced my eyes open, seeing the cold indifference in his gaze, utterly devoid of warmth. Tears silently streamed down, and I plunged into darkness once more. When I next awoke, it was two days later. Julian stood outside the room, on the phone, his voice clearly audible – “Pay more. Make those photos go viral, keep the buzz alive until Candace secures that Chief Analyst position.” For Candace, he was truly sparing no effort. The Julian before me was a stranger, terrifying. I didn’t dare open my eyes, pretending to still be asleep. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart, the pain almost suffocating me. I had loved him without reservation, yet he had personally pushed me into this abyss. I actually, foolishly, believed he truly cared for me when he frantically carried me into the ER that day. But it was all his meticulously crafted design! After that hospital door closed, it wasn’t salvation waiting for me, but hell itself! I used to command the financial markets, a master strategist. Yet, in the end, I was undone by the very person I trusted most. It’s just a Chief Analyst position. Candace wants it? She can have it. And that position, and Julian – I want none of it! From now on, I will never appear in his world again!

When I woke up, Julian threw the photos that had gone absolutely viral onto my bed. He feigned a look of deep pain: “Scarlett, I know this must be a misunderstanding.” “Don’t worry, I’ve already got my PR team working on it. Soon, these photos will be wiped from the internet entirely.” In the photos, my face was clearly visible, my clothes disheveled, surrounded by several unfamiliar men. The background was a private room in a high-end club. The headline blared: “Female Investment Banker Allegedly Sleeps Her Way Up, Financial Industry’s Dark Side Exposed.” “Those who hurt you, I’ve already sent them all to prison.” Julian picked up his phone. “But the negative publicity has already affected the company’s reputation, and with your hands unable to do high-frequency trading anymore…” “Forget Chief Analyst, the company can’t even hold onto your position.” “Candace, bless her soft heart, fought tooth and nail to secure this opportunity for you.” Steal my position, ruin my reputation—is *that* what she calls a “soft heart”? “The company’s decided to use your case as internal training material, a cautionary tale for all new hires.” My voice trembled: “So… you agreed to this?” Julian shook his head: “I don’t think that’s impactful enough.” “Candace suggested you share your ‘lessons learned’ at the morning meetings every day.” “It might be humiliating at first, but when you see new hires avoid making your mistakes because of you, you’ll feel… gratified.” My vision blurred; I could barely see Julian in front of me. How did we become like this? It feels like just yesterday, when we first started dating, he’d get jealous if I had one too many drinks with a client. He’d always step in front of me if a male client got too close. Five years. We clawed our way up from entry-level traders, supporting each other every step of the way, finally carving out a place for ourselves in this cutthroat financial world. Now, just because Candace suggested it, he arranged for my humiliating photos to be taken, and wants me to publicly rip open my own wounds? “Julian, what did I do wrong?” Tears streamed down my face. “I absolutely refuse this arrangement. We’re over!” I struggled to get up, but a searing pain shot through my right wrist. Julian said impatiently: “Don’t be ridiculous! Candace stayed up all night to come up with this plan. Is this how you repay us?” Just then, Candace, in her ten-centimeter Jimmy Choo heels, pushed the door open. The scent of Chanel No. 5 instantly filled the entire space. Seeing my disheveled state, she curled her red lips in a triumphant smile: “Julian, what’s going on here?” Julian sneered: “Still thinks she’s a star trader, offended that the opportunity we’re giving her isn’t ‘dignified’ enough.” Candace sighed, feigning sympathy: “Scarlett, you’re practically useless now. What firm would trust their capital to a trader who can’t even type?” “Besides…” She shook her phone. “Now the entire internet is flooded with your scandalous photos. The financial world absolutely despises this kind of scandal.” I let out a cold laugh: “Since you think it’s so great, why don’t *you* become the cautionary tale? After all, you want to snatch everything, so take this opportunity too.” “Especially since…” I stared at her meticulously manicured nails, “this idea was *yours*. You’d be able to ’empathize’ with the experience even more, wouldn’t you?”

“Scarlett!” Julian’s furious voice exploded through the empty office. He grabbed my collar, slamming me hard against the wall. His right hand flew up, a sharp whistle of air preceding the brutal slap across my face. *SMACK!* The crisp sound of the slap was excruciatingly loud in the silent office. I stumbled back a few steps, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of my mouth. “Are you out of your damn mind?! Did losing your right hand make you lose your brain too?! I never knew you were so malicious!” Julian’s eyes were bloodshot, veins throbbing at his temples, all traces of his usual composed financial elite persona gone. I slowly wiped the blood from my mouth, a cold laugh escaping my lips: “Malicious? Who really took those pictures anyway, and—” “Shut up!” Julian roughly cut me off. “Candace has been looking out for you every step of the way! Do you know how much those photos cost the company? Clients withdrawing funds, stock prices plummeting – the board wants to know who’s responsible! If you hadn’t willingly stooped to visiting places like that, those photos never would have gotten out!” I stared directly into his eyes: “Julian, can you look me in the eye and say *I* had those photos taken?” His gaze visibly flickered, his Adam’s apple bobbed uncomfortably. But quickly, that handsome face reverted to its usual cold ruthlessness. “Don’t play innocent here!” He yanked open a drawer, pulling out a stack of papers and flinging them at me. “Look at your employment contract’s supplementary clause! Any employee’s personal actions that damage the company’s reputation will result in a twenty-million-dollar fine!” Papers scattered across the floor, my signature emblazoned on the top sheet. I bent to pick up the contract, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. So, from the very first day we started dating, he had been planning this all along. Not only did he make me sign this exorbitant penalty clause, but he also transferred all my savings away under the guise of “joint investments.” He had calculated, precisely, that I couldn’t afford to pay, which is why he dared to push me so ruthlessly. “You must publicly review your actions at tomorrow morning’s meeting, so the entire company can learn from your mistakes.” Julian adjusted his tie, his tone suddenly softening: “Scarlett, please don’t make this difficult for me.” That familiar “Scarlett” sent a sharp pang twisting in my stomach. Once, he always called me that late at night after we worked overtime, and then, as if by magic, pull out my favorite Tiramisu from his briefcase. “Don’t worry, Mr. Julian.” I fought back tears, straightening my back. “I’ll… perform exceptionally well.” He nodded, satisfied, and turned to leave. Just then, Candace, in her ten-centimeter Jimmy Choo heels, pushed the door open. The scent of Chanel No. 5 instantly filled the entire space. “Julian, the board members…” She feigned surprise, covering her mouth. “Oh dear, Ms. Scarlett is here too.” Julian immediately adopted a tender expression, naturally wrapping an arm around Candace’s slender waist: “It’s all handled. Shall we go?” Candace flashed me a victor’s smile, her lips, painted with CL red-bottom lipstick, moving as she spoke: “Oh, and Scarlett, remember to dress formally tomorrow. After all, it’s going to be live-streamed on the company’s internal network.” Watching them walk away hand-in-hand, I bit down so hard on my lip, I tasted blood. The next morning, at 6 AM, I stood by the HR department’s door. My resignation letter was already crumpled in my bag. The elevator chimed open, and Candace, swaying her hips, stepped out. Her new Givenchy Fall collection suit made her look both sharp and alluring. “Well, well, isn’t it our ‘star trader’?” She deliberately raised her voice, causing several early-bird colleagues to glance over. “Weren’t you going to resign? What, slinking back already?” She leaned close to my ear, her warm breath caressing my neck: “Or perhaps… the men in that private room didn’t satisfy you that night?” I snapped my head up, meeting her malicious gaze head-on. The timid intern who used to trail behind me with reports, shyly calling me ‘Ms. Scarlett,’ had vanished completely. *SMACK!* My hand moved faster than my brain, but just as it was about to connect with her cheek, it was caught in a vice-like grip. Candace’s perfectly manicured nails dug deep into my bandaged wrist. The excruciating pain made my vision blur. “A trader without her right hand? Can’t even throw a punch, it’s like a tickle.” She maliciously ground her nails into my wound, and blood quickly seeped out, staining the gauze. “If that little slap affects my trading performance today, what do you think… Julian will do to you?” She flung my hand away, then elegantly pulled a wet wipe from her Hermes bag to clean her fingers, as if I were something dirty. The crisp click of her heels gradually faded away. I leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor, the searing pain in my wrist shooting straight to my heart. At 7:30 AM, Julian was setting up the projection equipment in the trading hall. The massive LED screen cycled through company promotional videos, among them, clips of me accepting the “Best Trader” award years ago. “Where’s Scarlett?” He checked his watch for the third time, impatience in his voice. “The market’s about to open, the morning meeting *must* start on time! How can someone with this level of discipline be trusted with client funds?” Ben, the assistant, stammered: “We’ve called her three times, but no one’s answering…” Julian irritably loosened his tie and slipped into the fire escape to call Candace. “Baby, how about we go to ‘The Summit’ tonight? That role-play you mentioned wanting to try…” His voice suddenly turned syrupy. “Yes, just like in those photos… you play the drunk client, I’ll be the attentive manager…” “Every time I see your eyes red with pleading, I just…” His breathing grew heavier, and his other hand unconsciously unbuttoned two buttons on his shirt. Suddenly, Ben burst in, panic-stricken: “Mr. Julian! It’s bad! Security says… says Scarlett went to the rooftop…” Julian’s expression froze instantly. The next second, like a furious lion, he lunged for the elevator, frantically jamming the ‘up’ button: “Damn it! Seal off the news immediately! Notify security… No, I’ll go myself!” When he kicked open the rooftop safety door, the first rays of morning sun were piercing through the clouds. The wind on the thirty-eighth floor was fierce, whipping my white blouse around me. “Scarlett!” His voice was tinged with genuine fear for the first time. “Get your ass down here! I don’t care about the twenty million! Do you hear me?!” I looked back at him one last time, the man I’d loved for five years, his tie crooked, his composure shattered. How pathetic. Even now, all he cared about was the company’s reputation. “Julian.” I said softly, “You will never, ever get that Chief Analyst position.” Amidst the blaring police sirens. I spread my arms wide, just as I had when I made my first foreign exchange trade, embracing this grand, magnificent fall.

“She shouldn’t be in her room, should she? Didn’t I assign people to watch her? Are all of you completely useless?” Julian’s voice carried from the end of the hallway, accompanied by hurried footsteps. I stood at the edge of the rooftop, the gauze on my right wrist fluttering gently in the wind. A faint tingling sensation came from my fingertips— It was a lingering effect of the nerve damage; the doctors said I’d never be able to perform high-frequency trading again. “Mr. Julian, we truly couldn’t stop Ms. Scarlett, she insisted on going to the rooftop…” Ben’s voice trailed off. I closed my eyes, feeling the thirty-eighth-floor wind howl past. Three days ago, I was sitting in the trading hall, my fingers dancing across the keyboard, processing hundreds of trades every minute. And now, all of it was gone. “Scarlett!” Julian’s voice, as he pushed open the rooftop door, brought me back to reality. He was in a sharp suit, his tie flapping in the wind, his face etched with that familiar look of worry— A look that once made my heart race, but now only disgusted me. “What are you doing standing there? Get down from there, now!” He extended a hand to me, his voice carrying just the right amount of urgency. I slowly turned, seeing the hospital security guards and Ben following behind him. Julian was always like this, playing the part perfectly, leaving no loose ends. Just like he arranged for angry clients to injure my hands, just like the words he spoke to his assistant outside the operating room. “Julian.” My voice was soft, but loud enough for him to hear, “Do you even grasp what it means for a high-frequency trader to lose their right hand?” His expression stiffened for a moment, then he quickly put on that gentle face again: “Scarlett, don’t overthink things. The doctors said your hand will recover. Let’s go home, okay?” “Recover?” I laughed, holding up my bandaged right hand. “Permanent nerve damage, 70% loss of fine motor skills – is *that* what you call ‘recovery’?” Julian took a step forward, and I immediately retreated, my heel already hanging over the edge. Gasps rose from below. Someone had spotted us on the rooftop. “Scarlett! Don’t do anything foolish!” Julian finally revealed his true fear. “I admit I was wrong. I shouldn’t have let you take the fall for Candace, but I truly love you!” “Love?” I scoffed. “You only love the ‘Mrs. Julian’ who could pave your way. Now that I, the trader, am ruined, it’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?” The wind picked up, scattering my hair. I looked down at the crowd gathering below, then at Julian’s ashen face. In that moment, I suddenly didn’t want to die— At least not if it meant letting him get what he wanted by getting rid of me. “Scarlett, please…” Julian’s voice trembled. “Think about our future…” “Future?” I slowly stepped away from the rooftop edge, stopping in front of him under his surprised gaze. “Alright then, let’s talk about our future.” Julian sighed in relief, reaching out to steady me, but I pulled away. I looked him straight in the eyes: “I have only one condition – I want to see Candace.” “That…” He hesitated. “She’s not available right now…” “Then there’s nothing to discuss.” I turned, ready to walk back to the rooftop edge. “Fine! Fine! I’ll arrange it!” Julian quickly agreed. “I’ll have her come see you tomorrow. Just come back to the room with me first.” I let him help me off the rooftop, already planning my next move in my mind. What Julian didn’t know was the first thing I did after waking up in the operating room. I had asked the nurse to contact an old friend for me – Mr. Davies from the Financial Regulatory Authority. Back in the hospital room, Julian diligently poured me water and tucked in the duvet around me. He seemed to have reverted to being the considerate husband he once was. I closed my eyes, feigning rest, listening to him make a hushed phone call on the balcony. “Candace, you have to come to the hospital tomorrow… Yes, she’s demanding to see you… I know it’s risky, but she’s emotionally unstable right now… What? No! If she actually jumps, the media will dig deep into *why*…” I silently curved my lips into a smile. Julian always prioritized profit, even over his first love. The next afternoon, Candace arrived as expected. She wore a Chanel suit and carried an Hermes bag. Her makeup was so meticulously applied, she looked ready for a financial summit, not a hospital visit. “Scarlett.” She stood by the bed, a facade of concern on her face. “I heard you’re not doing so well?” I didn’t answer, just stared at her red-polished nails— Those hands that were now operating the keyboards in the trading floor, in place of mine. “Mr. Julian is very worried about you.” She continued, an undisguised triumph in her tone. “He said that once you’re discharged, you can focus on being Mrs. Julian, and he’ll leave the trading department to me…” “Candace.” I interrupted her, my voice surprisingly calm. “Do you know what high-frequency trading absolutely despises?” She paused: “What?” “Emotional trading.” I slowly sat up. “A trader swayed by emotions will eventually blow up their account.” Candace’s face changed slightly: “I don’t understand what you mean.” “You will.” I smiled. “Oh, and thank Julian for the gift he sent me.” “Gift?” I held up my right hand: “This ruined hand, it’s the best gift he could have given me.” Candace left in a hurry, clearly startled by my words. I picked up the phone from the bedside table and dialed Mr. Davies. “Mr. Davies, it’s Scarlett. Regarding the suspicious trading records for account MH6703, I have some new findings…” After hanging up, I gazed out at the blue sky. Julian thought destroying my career would control me, but he was wrong. The most important lesson I learned in the financial market was – always have a hedging strategy. And now, my revenge plan had only just begun.

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My wife has a ton of guy friends. I kept telling her to keep her distance. But she’d just say, “Why are you so petty? They’re all like brothers from the old neighborhood!” Fine. I immediately called my female friend who’d just returned from overseas. My wife wasn’t happy about that. My wife stayed out all night again. I scrolled through SnapChat and saw a new video posted by Asher Hayes, one of my wife’s guy friends. My wife was in a crowd of men, glass in hand, beaming. I didn’t feel a flicker of anger. 0I turned off my phone, didn’t call her incessantly like I used to. I slept straight through till morning. The next day, my wife came home with breakfast, her heavy, smudged makeup still on. She looked at me, trying to be sweet, and started to explain. “Darling, I’m so sorry. Asher just got back, so everyone gathered for a reunion. It got super late, and I didn’t want to disturb your sleep, so I just stayed at a hotel with them. But don’t worry, honey, I didn’t share a bed with any of them this time.” She specifically emphasized that she hadn’t slept in the same bed as Asher. Last time she stayed out, we had a huge fight. I was furious that she was a married woman, yet she had absolutely no boundaries. Out drinking with guys every other night. But my wife cried, calling me petty. She swore they were all like brothers from the old neighborhood, her “best guy friends.” Just thinking about her “best guy friends” made my blood boil. Asher Hayes was the one I resented most. Asher was Maya’s childhood sweetheart, they’d grown up together. In today’s terms, Asher was Maya’s closest male confidant, her male bestie. But to me, their relationship had no boundaries whatsoever. More than once, I’d seen a drunk Maya snuggled into Asher’s arms, playfully whining. They even shared the same drinking glass, completely unbothered. At first, My wife would patiently explain things to me. She’d reassure me, give me peace of mind. But as time went on, she grew increasingly impatient. She’d just throw one line at me. “Asher and I have absolutely nothing going on. If something was going to happen between us, it would have happened already. You wouldn’t even be my husband.” Of course, her guy friends all chimed in to “reason” with me. “We grew up together, we’ve always treated Maya like our little sister, so don’t take it the wrong way, alright?” “We’re just like family.” Family? What kind of brother and sister sit on each other’s laps and feed each other? It made my stomach churn. I told my wife countless times that I was uncomfortable. I didn’t like her going out with them at night. Later, I don’t know how it reached her guy friends’ ears. Suddenly, her “good brothers” started making snide, passive-aggressive remarks about me. “Oh, Maya, don’t drink anymore. Your husband will blame us for getting you drunk.” “Dude, Maya’s all yours now. We wouldn’t dare take her home anymore.” They said all these things right to my face. Gradually, they all started to think I was petty, Not a “real” man at all. My relationship with my wife also started to cool. Snapping back to reality. My wife handed me a freshly made coffee. She wrapped her arms around me from behind. “Husband, are you still mad? Don’t be mad, please! They’re just friends to me. You’re way more important.” I didn’t say anything. “Don’t be mad. Let’s go on a trip next week! Just the two of us, a romantic getaway. Haven’t you always wanted to go hiking? I’ll go with you.” I’m an outdoor enthusiast, I love hiking. I’d tried to get Maya to go with me before, but she had absolutely no interest in it. Her friends even laughed at me when they found out. “Hiking? Is that what old people do?” “Our Princess Maya can’t get a tan on a mountain!” Gradually, I stopped bringing it up. Now, my wife was actually suggesting it herself. A flicker of hope ignited inside me. Seeing my expression soften, my wife beamed. She immediately promised she’d arrange everything for the hiking trip. 0

My wife had been well-behaved these past few days. She hadn’t gone out to parties at night. But today, I saw Asher post his hiking photos. It was the exact mountain I wanted to climb! And in the corner of one picture, I spotted a pair of hands. The ring on one hand was unmistakably Maya’s. I grabbed my phone and confronted my wife with the photo. “You went hiking with him?” Her face immediately flushed with embarrassment and panic. “I was just scouting out the trail! I mean, I’m going with you in a few days, right?” It was the first I’d ever heard of needing to “scout” a hiking trail. Didn’t her friends call hiking “old people’s entertainment”? Why were they all so enthusiastic when my wife said *she* was going hiking? “I asked you to go before, and you refused. But now you’re all over it with Asher? Maya Harrington, how can I *not* overthink this?” Seeing me get angry, My wife’s own temper flared. “I *told* you I was just scouting the trail! If you’re so bothered, let’s go right now! You want to hike, right? We’ll go together right now!” She pulled my hand, dragging me toward the door. I yanked my hand away. “No need.” I walked into the bedroom and started packing my suitcase. My wife stared at me, shocked. “What are you doing?” I kept packing, not looking up at her. “My mom’s sick. I’m going home to see her.” I’d married Maya right after college. Since she was an only child and couldn’t leave her parents, I’d moved a thousand miles to settle in her city. But I was an only child too. Now my mom was sick, and I couldn’t even be there for her immediately. Maya froze for a moment. I saw several emotions flash across her face. A silent, suffocating tension filled the air. “Why didn’t you tell me? Honey, I’m sad that Mom’s sick too. Do you need me to come back with you?” I bent down, packed the last item, and closed my suitcase. “No need.” Anyone who truly wanted to go wouldn’t ask. That night, I took a direct flight to City B. Counting the time, it had been two years since I’d gone home to see my parents. Looking at my mother in her hospital bed, an unexpected wave of guilt washed over me. “Leo? Why are you here? Where’s Maya?” “Mom, I came to see you. Maya… she’s pretty busy with work.” My mother didn’t have many wishes, only that our family life would be harmonious. “Good, good. It’s nothing serious, you don’t need to worry about me. You didn’t have to come. What a waste of your time!” I spent the next few days taking care of my mom. Maya, on the other hand, was checking in on me constantly. Every day, she’d ask when I was coming back. After my mother recovered, she urged me to return to City A. So I told my wife the date of my return. The day I landed at City A airport, A luxury sedan pulled up in front of me. My wife sat in the passenger seat, shouting, “Honey, over here!” I looked closer; the driver was Asher Hayes. My wife naturally got out to greet me. Asher gave me an insolent smirk. “Leo Sterling, you can handle your own bags, right? I won’t bother getting out.” I didn’t reply, just put my suitcase in the trunk myself. My wife linked her arm through mine affectionately. “Honey, you’re finally back! Asher heard you were returning and offered to pick you up himself!” I opened the back passenger door, expecting my wife to join me, but she casually opened the front passenger door and got back into the front. Asher, with a cheeky grin, casually put his hand on Maya’s shoulder, then glanced at me and immediately explained, “Leo, seriously, I just wasn’t comfortable with Maya coming to pick you up alone.” *What a pathetic man, always relying on his woman. He’s totally beneath me.* My wife’s face showed a hint of awkwardness. She quickly changed the subject, opening her phone to show me a group chat. “Honey, Asher really did offer to pick you up, okay? Don’t misunderstand. I’ve been so good these past few days, waiting for you at home every single day.” That group chat had all their old neighborhood friends in it. Everyone but me. I pressed my lips together. “It’s fine.” 0

I ignored the barely perceptible challenge in Asher’s eyes. He always said he was afraid I’d misunderstand. Yet he constantly did things that *made* me misunderstand. How many nights had she stayed out? How many times had she been drunk somewhere else? Ever since news of my fight with my wife got out, Asher’s overtly inappropriate touching of my wife had turned into subtle, sneaky touching. Normally, what had just happened would have infuriated me. But now, I didn’t care anymore. I couldn’t be bothered with the two of them in the front, with their complete lack of boundaries. “Can you wait a few minutes? I’m waiting for a friend.” A stunning woman walked toward us. Chloe Vance, clicking in her heels and dragging a suitcase, hurried toward me, waving as she ran. “Leo! There you are, I finally found you!” Chloe pouted playfully at me. “You’re so inconsiderate, not waiting for me! Do you know how long I dragged this suitcase around looking for you?” Chloe opened the car door and slid onto the seat beside me, intimately linking her arm through mine. “This is my first time in City A. I don’t know anyone, so you’ll have to take responsibility for me!” This scene made Maya Harrington and Asher Hayes freeze simultaneously. They didn’t understand what stunt I was pulling. Maya immediately became alert, her brows furrowed so deeply it looked like she was trying to pinch something between them. “Honey, is this who you were waiting for?” Before I could reply, Chloe introduced herself to both of them boldly. “Hi everyone, I’m Chloe Vance, and Leo and I grew up together!” “Grew up together?” Maya’s tone was sharp. “Yep! We’re best buddies, right, Leo?” Chloe hooked her arm over my shoulder, saying it to Maya without a care in the world. I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Maya, who was in the passenger seat. Maya was completely stumped. In contrast, Chloe chattered away with me the whole ride. “Oh my gosh, Leo, it’s so beautiful! Look!” “Leo, do you remember when we were kids…” “Leo…” Compared to us, the front of the car was eerily quiet. It wasn’t that Asher wasn’t talking. Normally, whenever we went out, Asher was the most talkative person there. He’d always pull Maya into conversation, going on and on. From childhood anecdotes to the latest gossip from their old neighborhood. He’d always talk about things I couldn’t possibly join in on. But now, Asher was still trying to start conversations, but Maya’s responses were always terse. After dropping Chloe off at her hotel, Maya immediately told Asher to pull over. Then she opened the car door and joined me in the back seat. Her face was black with fury. “Why did you move to the back?” Maya snorted. “What, I’m not allowed to sit here? What exactly is that woman to you?” I closed my eyes, feigning sleep, deliberately avoiding the question. “I’m really tired. Let’s just go home.” 0

Maya walked into the house without a word. I’d just finished changing my shoes when I saw her sitting on the sofa, arms crossed, her face a mile long. I pretended not to notice and started unpacking my luggage. After a while, She finally spoke. “What exactly is your relationship with that Chloe Vance?” She stared at me intently, desperate for my answer. “I told you, she’s a buddy!” “A buddy? You’re calling a woman your ‘buddy’? That woman was clearly all over you! Were you seeing her the whole time you were home? Were you two together all those days?” Her questions came like a machine gun, and the more she talked, the angrier she got. She stood up and threw a cushion at me. I dodged it, ignoring her rage. I said calmly, “She’s a good person. As a friend, what does it matter if she’s a man or a woman?” “Of course it matters! You’re married! How can you be calling another woman your ‘buddy’?” I retorted, “Oh, really? Aren’t you married, and you’re still calling all those men from your old neighborhood ‘buddies’?” Maya was so shocked she couldn’t speak. I’d never seen so many expressions cross her face at once. Shock, shame, and regret. Finally, after a long pause, she squeezed out a sentence through gritted teeth. “They’re different! I grew up with them, I know everything about them…” I cut her off directly, mimicking her usual words. “Chloe and I are childhood friends too! What’s so different about that? Can’t you trust me?” Maya was completely stumped. For days, she gave me the silent treatment around the house. I simply pretended not to notice. That weekend, We went to Mrs. Harrington’s parents’ house for dinner, as usual. At the dinner table, Mrs. Harrington noticed the tension in the air between Maya and me. “Maya, Leo moved away from his hometown for you; you can’t keep acting like a spoiled princess.” Then she looked at me kindly. “Leo, Maya’s been spoiled since she was little, she can be a bit delicate. Don’t take it too seriously. Married couples have their ups and downs, but they always work it out. You have to be more understanding.” Maya, as if begging for peace, clasped my hand. “Husband…” She was about to speak when someone interrupted her. “Maya, why didn’t you tell me you were coming for dinner?” Asher Hayes had arrived. Asher immediately hooked his arm around Maya’s neck. Maya awkwardly pushed his hand away, glancing at me with a hint of embarrassment. Asher noticed me standing there and let out a dismissive “tsk.” He said casually, “Oh, Leo’s here too!” As he spoke, a whole group of people came in behind Asher. These were all Maya’s “guy friends.” “Maya, you’re here! Why didn’t you invite us to hang out?” “It’s rare for everyone from our old neighborhood to be together like this.” Maya’s face indeed lit up with anticipation. Maya looked at me, pleadingly, hoping I would agree. The other guys also looked at me, As if they were practically glaring daggers at me if I didn’t agree. Even though Maya and I had been married for three years, I still wasn’t close to any of them. They were always somewhat distant toward me. And, of course, I couldn’t integrate into their circle. They couldn’t relax when I was around. “Husband, how about you come hang out with us?” Maya affectionately linked her arm through mine, asking sweetly. For a moment, the entire room fell silent. Everyone was looking at me. Some of the guys exchanged glances. Everyone was waiting for my answer. They didn’t want *me* there, but they desperately wanted Maya. Since that was the case, I’d give them what they wanted. I wiped my mouth and replied coolly, “Okay.” They stopped talking. The atmosphere was incredibly strange. A few minutes later, Maya cautiously spoke, “Then I’ll… be back early.” Then she added, “You don’t have to come pick me up later; they’ll take me home. I’ll definitely be home early this time.” She gave me a reassuring promise. But I just smiled, quietly eating my dinner. Maya stood up and left with them. Before they even walked out the door, I heard someone say, “Did Leo change his mind? He’s actually letting Maya go out with us?” 0 After they left, Mrs. Harrington apologetically took my hand. “Leo, please go pick Maya up tonight.”

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When I questioned Seraphina about her assistant, Caleb, for the eighth time, she just coldly pointed to the door. “It’s exactly what you think it is. If you can’t handle it, you can move out of my house.” The moment she spoke, words I alone could see flashed before my eyes. [Don’t listen to her, bro! She’s just mad you don’t trust her!] [Just tell her you’re jealous, and she’ll drop to her knees, explaining everything!] For the first time, I ignored those words. I just looked at Seraphina and said, “Fine.” I turned and walked back into my room to pack. The words in front of me started shaking even faster. [Bro, don’t be impulsive! She’s just playing hard to get, but she totally cares about you!] [If our guy just turns around and looks at her, her tears will start falling!] I paused, my hands still on my packing. I was the one who pursued Seraphina. Back then, she was our university’s most famous real-life Cinderella story. Beautiful, from a troubled family, she’d topped her major for three consecutive years and even won a national award. Guys swarmed around her, but her perpetually cold face kept them at bay. Only I persevered for three years, finally winning over that ice queen. Even after we became official, her constant aloofness didn’t bother me. I believed that if I loved her enough, the ice would eventually melt for me. Later, when I found out her parents had both cheated on each other when she was just a child, leaving her with a fractured family… My eyes welled up as I told her, “No matter what happens, I’ll always stand by you. I’ll never push you away.” That night, Seraphina clung to me, wanting me all night long. And those invisible words? They appeared after I proposed to Seraphina. They told me why Seraphina would get inexplicably angry. They taught me what to do when she was furious, her eyes red, telling me to leave. They said an ice queen like Seraphina needed someone as warm and fiery as me to melt her heart. At first, I believed it was a reward from above. Until one day, Seraphina came home with the scent of another man’s cologne clinging to her. They said: [She just wants you to be jealous, bro! It’s just a little game women play.] The first time Seraphina didn’t reply to my texts, and then hung up when I called. They said: [Keep calling, bro! She’s secretly thrilled seeing your name flash over and over!] Another time, at 2 AM, Seraphina’s phone was off. I searched everywhere she might be in the pouring rain, only to come home and see her being helped out of a car by her assistant, Caleb. They said: [What’s she doing wrong? She just wants to close this deal to travel the world with you, bro!] And finally, today, I couldn’t hold back anymore and asked Seraphina again: “Pictures of you kissing Caleb were sent right to my phone. How do you explain that?” And… that’s how I ended up here, packing my bags. But honestly, this wasn’t the first time I’d heard Seraphina say, ‘Get out of my house.’ After we got married, her favorite line was always, ‘Get out of my house.’ She knew I had no one else in this unfamiliar city, that going home by train would take 16 hours. She was aware my parents weren’t in good health, and she knew I never burdened them with my troubles. So, the moment we argued, those words would fly out. And when she said them, any big problem we had suddenly became *my* problem. I still remember the first time she said it. I was stunned, sitting in our room, feeling utterly miserable. Three hours later, she came in, knelt before me, her eyes slowly turning red, and her voice trembling as she pleaded. “Asher, I don’t know why, but when I get angry, I just think of how my mom used to treat my dad.” “For me, this place isn’t home unless you’re here.” “I’m sorry, please don’t leave me, okay?” Seeing her so fragile, as if she might break with a touch, I immediately reconciled with her. And so, we fell into a vicious cycle. She’d tell me to leave, I’d retreat to our room, and then she’d come to apologize…

I closed my eyes, and then the door behind me suddenly opened. Seraphina gripped the doorknob and began, “Asher…” Her words died in her throat when she saw the suitcase on the floor. She snapped her head up to look at me, then sneered, “Good for you. At least you’ve got some backbone this time. Pack up and leave already. Don’t waste my time.” My body stiffened, but I didn’t turn around. Instead, I sped up my packing. The words appeared again before my eyes. [Bro, just look back at her! Her tears are about to fall!] [The moment our guy turns around, she’ll hug him, kiss him, and then things will get R-rated!] [I guarantee you, her inner monologue right now is: *Please, don’t go.*] I stared at those lines, my breath growing shallow, almost suffocating. From dating to marriage, she pushed me away again and again, and I, like a fool, would stick to her like glue. I’d lived like that for seven years. During one fight, she’d scoffed at me: “Asher, do you even know how to spell ‘self-respect’?” She didn’t know that when you truly love someone, you throw self-respect out the window. But now, I was done loving. I snapped the suitcase shut, zipped it up, and pulled up the handle. I walked past Seraphina, pushed open the door, and strode out. As I headed downstairs, those words flickered across my vision again. [Oh no, bro is really mad this time! If she doesn’t sweet-talk him now, it’ll be too late!] [Why is she just standing there on the balcony like a statue? Our guy is already leaving the complex!] Just as I felt an urge to look back, my phone rang, a jarring sound. Seeing ‘Seraphina’ on the screen, my heart fluttered, but my hand automatically answered the call. On the other end, Seraphina’s voice was icy: “Do you still want that figurine on the bedside table? If not, I’m throwing it out.” Her words hit my heart like a hammer, the pain so sharp I suddenly found it hard to breathe. The figurine Seraphina mentioned was a pair of little ceramic dolls we’d made together on our first date. Our names were carved into the base, etched there by our own hands, and she’d insisted on adding a heart around them. For years, no matter how much we fought, she never touched those dolls. But now, she was saying, so coldly: *Throw them out if you don’t want them.* Those words flashed again. [Bro, she’s actually asking if you’re really going to abandon her if you don’t even want those memories!] [A conflicted person needs an unshakeable partner. She just wants to confirm you won’t leave her!] Staring at the words, I choked out a trembling sound: “Yeah, go ahead and throw them away.” Seraphina didn’t say another word before hanging up. I dragged my suitcase out of the apartment complex, then paid a hefty price to a real estate agent to find me a rental apartment within three hours. By the time I’d settled everything, it was already past midnight. I lay in bed, feeling a strange emptiness, experiencing the first night without Seraphina in seven years. The next day, I walked into the company in a daze. When I reached my desk, I saw a Starbucks Americano waiting for me. I turned around, about to ask my colleague where the coffee came from, when Seraphina and her assistant, Caleb, walked into the office together. Caleb smiled brightly: “It’s my birthday today! My boss treated everyone to coffee, and there’ll be desserts this afternoon too!” It was *his* birthday, but Seraphina was paying.

Suddenly, everyone’s eyes were fixed on me. My hands clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. Then, I picked up the coffee, raised it in Caleb’s surprised gaze, and said, “Happy Birthday, Caleb.” Caleb was speechless. Seraphina, however, looked at me and suddenly spoke: “Asher, you were late today. Pay attention to your work. Don’t slack off just because you’re doing menial tasks.” At her words, the looks directed at me immediately shifted. It was pity, laced with mockery… Under that barrage of stares, I couldn’t help but feel humiliated, but more than that, my heart turned cold. I forced myself to meet Seraphina’s gaze and said, “I already informed my supervisor last night. No need for you to worry, Ms. Seraphina.” Seraphina’s lips pressed into a tight line. She gave me a deep look before turning and walking away. As soon as she left, a male colleague, who I’d always been at odds with, spoke up. “Asher, so all that happiness you post on SnapChat was fake. Your wife doesn’t even care about you.” “Well, I guess it makes sense. She makes millions now, and you’re just an admin assistant. You married up.” He smugly picked up his coffee and walked out, letting out an undisguised scoff as he passed me. I lowered my gaze to the Americano on my desk, and then suddenly remembered something. When I first joined the company, Seraphina and I were both in technical roles. But company policy strictly forbade employees in the same department from dating. To avoid suspicion, and because I thought one of us should focus on our home life, I voluntarily transferred to the administrative department. After successfully transferring, I started leaving work on time, keeping our home perfectly organized. But now, in Seraphina’s eyes, I was nothing more than someone doing menial tasks. I stood in silence, but then the words flashed again. [Bro, don’t listen to the gossip! She bought coffee for the whole company just so she’d have a legitimate reason to come see you in admin!] [Seriously, when Caleb said ‘birthday,’ her eyes lit up! Trust me, bro!] I believed what those words said was true. But Seraphina could have just come to the administrative department openly. Instead, she went to such lengths, using the most humiliating way to see me. That suffocating feeling in my chest just wouldn’t go away. The entire morning, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t focus. It wasn’t until noon that my boss, Monica, called me into her office. As soon as I entered, she pushed a file across the desk to me. “The German branch had a few key tech talents leave, taking employees with them. Compile the performance metrics from the past year and select someone to take charge.” My heart skipped a beat, a thought rushing to my mind, and the words tumbled out. “Monica, I was originally in a technical role. I volunteer to transfer and move abroad.” The moment I said it, both Monica and I froze. Before this, I had never once thought about voluntarily leaving Seraphina. But once the thought took root, it became unstoppable. Monica asked hesitantly, “Asher, this assignment requires signing a contract. You won’t be able to return to the States for at least five years. Do you want to discuss it with Seraphina?” I shook my head, my desire to go growing stronger: “No need, Monica. I can decide for myself.” “I once sacrificed my career for my family. Now that I have a chance to start over, I don’t want to miss it.” Monica’s eyes changed as I spoke. After looking at me for a long moment, she nodded: “Alright, I’ll recommend you to upper management. Don’t disappoint me.” I nodded vigorously, a sudden surge of excitement filling my chest.

Just as I walked out of the office, the words flashed again before my eyes. [Wait, bro is going abroad? What about Seraphina?] [Seraphina, come sweet-talk our guy now, or he’ll really be gone! All those nights you spent staring at his pillow won’t matter then!] This time, I didn’t pay attention to what they said. Instead, I eagerly began reviewing technical materials. Fortunately, even though I’d switched departments for the past two years, I’d maintained my good student habits, regularly reading cutting-edge industry papers. I spent the entire day recharging, until my friend, Julian, sent me a message. [Asher, it’s my birthday today. Can you make it?] I immediately remembered and quickly replied: [Sure.] After work, I walked out of the company and saw Seraphina’s silver Bentley parked across the street. I couldn’t help but stop, and the words began to flicker again. [Bro, she’s here to pick you up! Just look at her for two seconds, and she’ll come right over!] [Bro isn’t mad anymore, right? She’s not worth getting mad at, that stubborn woman!] I had just paused when someone suddenly bumped into me from behind, making me stumble. I turned around to see Caleb’s smiling face. “Oops, sorry, Asher! I’m in a hurry to celebrate my birthday with our boss. Didn’t see you standing there.” I was stunned. Caleb continued, “Oh, by the way, Ms. Seraphina said she’s taking me to Juliet’s Bistro. I saw on your SnapChat that you’ve posted dining photos from there. Do you have any dish recommendations?” At his words, my mind went blank. Because Juliet’s Bistro was the restaurant where I successfully confessed my feelings to Seraphina. I had once told her very seriously: “This is our special place, just for us. Even if we break up someday, you’re not allowed to bring anyone else here.” And she had answered just as seriously: “No one else. Only you.” My heart suddenly felt a gaping hole, and pain and coldness spread from there. I hadn’t even fully recovered from Caleb’s words when Seraphina rushed over. But she didn’t spare me a single glance. Her dark eyes reflected only Caleb, and she asked anxiously, “What happened? Are you hurt anywhere?” It was ridiculous. I had clearly decided to go abroad and leave Seraphina, but this scene still made my nose sting, weak as I was. Unable to bear the surging,暧昧 atmosphere between them any longer, I stepped back and turned to walk away. The words before my eyes flickered wildly. [Bro, don’t let her playing hard to get annoy you! She saw you get bumped and rushed over despite the red light!] [Why won’t she just apologize? Can’t she see our guy is upset? Why is she caring about someone else first?] My steps quickened, and the words in front of me grew blurrier and blurrier. It wasn’t until I turned the corner and could no longer see them that I leaned against a wall, rubbing away the blurring tears. And then I cursed myself: “Asher, you’re pathetic!” Once my emotions calmed, I hailed a taxi to the address Julian had sent me. When I pushed open the private room door, my three friends were sitting there, chatting animatedly. Jasper’s voice was filled with worry: “Do you think Asher will really come? Usually, at this time, he’d be home cooking for Seraphina, right?” Marcus scoffed lightly: “The last time we talked was two months ago, when he called me asking about a women’s perfume. He must have wanted to buy it for Seraphina.” Julian leaned his head on his hand, sighing: “I really hope Asher comes. He didn’t make it to my birthday last time. I even ordered his favorite mango cake this time.” Hearing that, my nose suddenly stung. These were my three best friends.

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At the orphanage, a wealthy couple came, looking to adopt my brother and me. My ten-year-old brother, Liam, holding my five-year-old hand, pointed to a dirty little kid with a doll who seemed a bit lost outside the door. “You go play with that kid for a bit. I’ll call you when it’s time to leave.” Watching his retreating back, a sense of fear made me chase after him. But then I saw him, standing with Daisy, pleading with Director Anne. “Daisy is so well-behaved and considerate. Please, let her take Chloe’s place and be adopted with me instead.” I stood there, stunned and disbelieving. The dirty little kid, meanwhile, ran over eagerly and pulled on my hand. “Our family needs a little sister. Come home with me.” Watching Liam’s retreating back, an unsettling feeling stirred within me. Ever since our parents passed away, we had been at this orphanage, and Liam had been my shadow. He’d always said we’d be adopted together. That way, he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone bullying me. But now, looking at the dirty little kid who only talked to her doll, I felt a shiver of fear. After a moment of thought, I turned and ran in the direction he’d gone. I found myself outside Director Anne’s office, where Liam was holding Daisy’s hand, pleading. “Daisy is so well-behaved and considerate. Please, let her take Chloe’s place and be adopted with me instead.” Director Anne looked conflicted, trying to reason with him. “Liam, you and Chloe are siblings. You’re a family. Are you sure you want to give up on her? I’m afraid you’ll regret it later.” Liam shook his head firmly. “Chloe is smart and beautiful. She’ll find another good home. But Daisy, she only has me. I need to look after her.” My nose stung, and tears started to stream down my face. But I only had him. Director Anne looked at Daisy’s face, her honesty tinged with sadness. “I’m afraid they might not agree.” Liam hugged Daisy. “They will agree. They only wanted to adopt me anyway. Chloe was just a bonus, so replacing her won’t make a difference.” Director Anne finally nodded. “Alright, I’ll ask them.” I peered through the window, watching Liam and Daisy hug each other, seemingly overjoyed. I couldn’t understand why things had suddenly turned out this way. The little kid stood by the door, studying me for a long time before finally running over. He grabbed my hand, shaking his head happily. “Our family needs a little sister. Come home with me.” My lip trembled, and I yanked my hand away from his. “Don’t touch me. My brother wouldn’t abandon me. I don’t want to go with you.” The little kid frowned, shaking his head seriously. “No, your brother doesn’t want you. I heard him just now.” I burst into tears, pushing him away. “That’s nonsense! I’m going to find out right now.”

Inside the office, Liam held Daisy’s hand, speaking softly. “Daisy, from now on, we’re family.” Daisy pressed her lips together in a joyful smile and nodded vigorously. “Yes, you’re the best brother.” Liam gently stroked her head. I shoved the door open with a bang and angrily rushed forward, pushing Daisy away. “Get away! That’s my brother!” Daisy stumbled back a couple of steps, steadying herself, and looked at me with hurt in her eyes. Liam gasped and quickly rushed over to her. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Daisy silently shook her head, but her eyes were brimming with tears. Liam turned to me, his gaze full of displeasure. “Chloe, who told you to hit people? Is this how I taught you to behave?” I felt a surge of injustice but forced back my tears. “Why did you replace me?” Liam looked away, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. That only made me angrier. I pointed at Daisy, my voice trembling with indignation. “Replacing her with me? Is that something a real brother would do? How can you face Mom and Dad after this?” Liam opened his mouth, then finally, with a hint of exasperation, he raised his voice. “Why are you being so selfish? There are so many kids here waiting to be adopted. Are we, just one family, supposed to take up two spots?” I didn’t know how to argue back. I could only stand there, eyes wide, tears streaming down my face. Yesterday, the wealthy Thompson family visited the orphanage. They thought Liam and I were a beautiful pair, being siblings, and wanted to adopt us together. Liam had been ecstatic, saying we’d never be separated. He even excitedly packed my favorite things. Daisy was the daughter of Mom’s best friend. She and her mom were on the same flight as ours, and her mom didn’t survive either. So, she came to the orphanage with us. She always used to cling to Liam, saying how lonely it was being an only child. Liam was always kind to her, but he’d always told me that no one could ever replace me. Just yesterday, I saw him comforting Daisy. “Don’t worry, someone will come to adopt you soon too.” But when he came back, he seemed downcast. That night, before bed, he asked me, “Chloe, do you think anyone would bully Daisy if she gets adopted alone?” A sudden sense of dread washed over me. I hugged his arm tightly. “No, Director Anne wouldn’t allow it.” He was silent for a few seconds, then spoke again. “What if the people who adopt her aren’t kind?” I panicked, my voice rising involuntarily. “Director Anne would deal with it! Liam, we can’t get involved.”

Liam nodded absentmindedly, then turned over and went to sleep. But I knew he was worried about Daisy. Mom’s best friend had been a single mother. Our two families lived close by and often visited each other. Although Daisy was very clingy with Liam, he hadn’t been particularly close to her before. Liam often said that a brother’s love belonged only to his sister, and that was me. But human emotions aren’t solely determined by blood ties. When Liam was eight, he was kidnapped by traffickers. It was Daisy who discovered it and resisted with all her might to save him. She clung to the kidnapper’s car and was dragged for hundreds of feet. That’s what made the bystanders call the police. But she also sustained severe injuries, leaving indelible scars all over her body, including her face. I don’t remember the details clearly, only her terrified screams in the hospital. Despite multiple treatments, she never fully recovered. From then on, other kids often called her an “ugly freak.” Liam started taking care of her and worrying about her. Mom also used to say, “Daisy is our family’s savior; we owe her so much.” At first, I nodded, half-understanding, “Daisy is our family’s benefactor, we should be good to her.” But gradually, Liam became more and more attentive to her. Any gift he gave me, Daisy would get one too. Once, he even managed to get a limited-edition collectible, but he gave it to her. I panicked. He was *my* brother. My own brother. And so, I started to hate Daisy. I hated her for always trying to steal my brother. I waited until we were alone and warned her. “Stop bothering my brother. He doesn’t like you at all.” Daisy moved closer to me, whispering in my ear. Her words were cold and chilling, like a boa constrictor I’d seen on a nature documentary, making me shiver all over. “I won’t stop. Auntie said they’d treat me like their own daughter now. So Liam is *my* brother too! I’m going to bother him every single day.” I got angry. I lunged forward and pushed her down, raising my fist. “If you come near him again, I’ll hit you!” But she just pressed her lips together, her eyes welling up. Liam came out of his room and saw us. For the first time, he lost his temper with me. “Chloe, why are you so spoiled?” “We’ve just spoiled you rotten!”

And so, I hated her even more. She was always silent, yet she stole all the family’s attention. I didn’t know what to do; I just felt that if she left, everything would be fine. Because of this, Mom and Dad grew more and more disappointed in me, and Liam became closer and closer to Daisy. But we were family, and they just thought I needed more guidance. Who could have known there would be a plane crash, taking Mom and Dad’s lives? At the orphanage, I clung to Liam even more. He was the only family I had left in this world; no one could take him from me. Liam repeatedly promised he wouldn’t leave me, telling me to stop being mean to Daisy. But he didn’t know that ever since Daisy was injured, her personality had become a bit strange. She always walked around with her head down, looking at me with eyes full of hatred. And I also knew Liam was always secretly saving his candy and milk for Daisy. I couldn’t bring myself to like her. But I never, ever imagined he would take my adoption spot and give it to her. Maybe it was because I was crying so hard. Liam looked a little heartbroken. He came over and wiped my tears. “Don’t cry, Chloe.

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After two nerve-wracking months of watching my stock portfolio explode, I cashed out. A whopping hundred million dollars. My heart pounded with excitement as I called my wife and son, telling them I’d be home this afternoon. I had big news, the best news, to share. My wife’s voice on the phone was oddly flat. “You’re sure you’re coming home today?” “Absolutely! Sweetheart, I promise the news I’m bringing home will be the biggest surprise ever.” She chuckled. “Okay, then I’ve got a big surprise for you too.” I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face the entire drive home. I pictured my wife waiting with a huge dinner spread, just for me. They’d be ecstatic when they found out how much I’d made. But when I pulled up to the house, I saw a pile of stuff by the front door. A closer look. It was all my stuff. My son, Leo, was actually throwing my clothes out onto the lawn. “Leo, what on earth are you doing?” I asked, utterly bewildered. Leo looked up, saw me, and sneered. He even let out a cold huff. “Mom told me to throw all your junk out.” My brows furrowed at his words. I rushed inside, desperate to ask Veronica what in the world was going on. The moment I stepped in, I saw a table laden with food. And my wife, Veronica, was leaning into another man’s arms, beaming. I knew him. Damien, her supervisor from work. It hit me like a ton of bricks. My head immediately swam with rage. “Veronica! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” I roared, my voice shaking. Veronica rolled her eyes at me. “Asher, are you brain-dead? Can’t you see what’s happening?” “Obviously, I found a better man, and I’m kicking you out. “A penniless loser like you? Anyone who sticks with you is doomed! You didn’t actually think I’d be loyal to you for life, did you? “Damien is a supervisor at his company; he has a brilliant future ahead. You, a broke deadbeat, couldn’t even compare.” She finished, smug, pulling Damien even closer. Damien grinned victoriously, looking down at me with utter contempt. He looked like the cat who got the cream. I gasped for air, clenching my fists. “How long have you been cheating on me behind my back?!” “Hmph! I’ll tell you the truth. Damien and I have been together for a year. Now that he’s finally divorced, I’m divorcing you to marry him.” A suffocating feeling tightened in my chest. I’d worked so hard, all to give my wife and son a better life. I’d volunteered for a tough assignment, surveying terrain in a remote, harsh location. Day and night, I’d dreamed of making enough money to provide that cozy family life I’d always dreamed of. I’d been out there, enduring wind and sun, busting my butt. And my wife had been in here, having an affair and turning me into a complete cuckold. “Fine. If you want a divorce, we can divorce. But Leo comes with me.” I took a deep breath, forcing the words out. A woman who betrayed me? I didn’t want her anymore. But then my son, Leo, screamed at me, “No! I don’t want to go with you!” Leo was fourteen this year. I thought he was old enough to understand. “Leo, don’t worry. I promise I’ll still be a good dad to you after your mom and I split.” Leo just gave me a look of disgust. “Seriously? Who’d want to be with you? Mom’s marrying a supervisor, he makes hundreds of thousands a year! Look at you, just a pathetic nobody, barely making enough to scrape by. “Mom already said she’s taking me with her after the divorce. Uncle Damien will be my dad from now on. You’re nothing! Don’t ruin my bright future! “Right, Dad?” Leo practically fawned over Damien, calling him “Dad” with a big smile. Veronica chuckled, patting his head. “That’s my son! He knows how to play his cards right! “A broke deadbeat like him really doesn’t deserve to be your father.” I stood there, feeling like all the blood in my veins had turned to ice. I thought Leo was just upset about the divorce. But it turned out he actually looked down on me, wanting Damien as his father. It felt like a knife twisting in my chest. “Leo, I have money. I can still give you a good life too.” The moment I said that, all three of them burst out laughing. “Asher, how can you even say that with a straight face? ‘I have money’? I know exactly how penniless you are!” Veronica scoffed, a sneer plastered on her face. “Exactly! My new dad already promised to buy me the latest phone. That’s probably something you’d struggle to afford, isn’t it? But even if you did buy it, I wouldn’t recognize you anymore. Mom says you always upgrade when you can, and I’m going with her to live the good life with my new dad. Don’t be a roadblock!” Damien smirked, looking at me. “Buddy, no offense, but a man needs to be capable! “It’s only natural for an incapable man to lose his wife and child. If you want to blame anyone, blame yourself for being useless.” My wife nodded. “Damien’s right. Asher, I’ve already prepared the divorce papers. Sign them quickly. Since Leo is staying with me, the house has to be mine.” I stood there, numb. My wife and son’s faces were utterly alien and chilling. Fine! If they want a divorce, then divorce it is. I wasn’t going to fight for a woman who cuckolded me. But my son… My throat tightened. I looked at Leo, asking seriously, “Leo, are you truly giving up on your dad? Aren’t you afraid you’ll regret this later?” Leo impatiently rolled his eyes. “I said, just sign the divorce papers! I can’t wait for you to divorce! Besides, I already have a new dad. Who wants a useless dad like you? I won’t regret anything!” My heart died completely at his words. I signed the divorce papers without another thought. I looked at them. “Even if you beg me on your knees for forgiveness later, I will never forgive you.” Veronica burst into laughter. “Poor loser, always fantasizing. Begging for forgiveness? Not in a million years.” “Exactly, just get out! Don’t interrupt our family dinner.” “And those piles of junk at the door? Take them with you.” Leo smugly chased me out. I gave him one last, cold look, then turned and walked away. I didn’t want my things. And I didn’t want an ungrateful wretch of a son either. I checked into a hotel. Before the divorce was even finalized, Veronica posted a photo of herself, Leo, and Damien on Ins, captioned: “My beautiful family of three.” Relatives on Veronica’s SnapChat group started asking what was going on. She laughed and replied, “What else? I dumped my useless husband and found a man a hundred times better.” Leo also excitedly sent a voice message: “Yeah, everyone! I’m announcing that Uncle Damien is my dad now. Don’t ever associate me with Asher, that pathetic loser.” They didn’t even care that I was still in the group. Their words filled me with both coldness and fury. And those relatives? They all chimed in, laughing: “Oh, so that’s what happened. Asher was pretty much a deadbeat anyway. Veronica, you’re so capable, congratulations!” “Seriously, why is Asher still in the group? Can’t he see nobody respects him? Why doesn’t he just leave? Such bad vibes.” I watched their mocking messages, my face unreadable. Initially, I hadn’t thought about leaving. Now, I decided I wouldn’t. I wanted to see. How well Veronica and Leo would live, without me, Asher. A month later, Veronica and I officially received our divorce certificate. She wasted no time, practically dragging Damien to get their marriage license, while Leo happily cheered them on. I felt utterly ridiculous. All these years, I’d been frugal, providing Veronica and Leo with more than enough materially. Everything else, I’d poured into the stock market. I knew my job was ordinary; even if I worked myself to death, I wouldn’t make much money. So I devoted myself to studying the market. And I really did pick a killer stock, raking in a hundred million. But I felt it was mostly luck. So I decided to stop. I planned to use the money to buy houses, cars, and invest in some stable businesses. I’d originally intended for all that money to go to my wife and son. Well, now. I could spend it however I pleased, all on my own. That day, I went to the sales office of a high-end complex in our area, “Grand Manor Estates,” which offered move-in ready homes. As I walked in, I spotted Veronica, Damien, and my son, Leo, all looking at properties. I frowned. What a small world. I was about to leave and come back another time when Damien suddenly saw me. “Well, well, Asher. What are you doing here? You certainly love to crash the party, don’t you?” At his greeting, Veronica and Leo both looked my way. When they saw me, they both let out a scoff. “Asher, you poor jerk, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re actually here to buy a house.” “Even the basic condos here are ridiculously expensive, like, half a million dollars for a small apartment. You couldn’t even afford a broom closet!” Veronica said, her face twisted in a mocking smile. Leo actually pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of me, and sent it to the SnapChat group, scoffing: “Everyone, come see! Some pathetic loser actually dares to come look at houses at Grand Manor!” The moment he sent it, The relatives in the group started sending sarcastic voice messages. “Asher, I told you, why don’t you just leave the group? You’re divorced from Veronica now, and she’s buying a house. Why are you tagging along? Won’t you be embarrassed when you walk around and realize you can’t even afford a down payment?” “Exactly, Asher. We get that you’re still hung up on Veronica, but a useless man can’t blame a woman for being heartless. Stop making a fool of yourself.” “Veronica, you and Damien should tell the sales staff to kick this broke jerk out. What’s the point of serving someone who can’t buy anything? It’s just wasting their precious time.” Veronica played each mocking voice message from her relatives, a triumphant grin on her face. I scoffed, pulled out my phone, and said, “Who’s still hung up on Veronica? I’m here to buy a house.” Immediately, another wave of mockery erupted. “Asher, stop bluffing! You couldn’t even get a mortgage for a place here!” “Yeah, if you can afford a house here, I’ll cut out my tongue and let you eat it!” At that moment, Damien smirked. “Veronica, relax. If he says he’s here to buy a house, let’s just pretend he is.” “Today, we’ll watch closely and see what kind of house he’s going to buy!” Veronica’s smirk turned wicked. She actually started a SnapChat group video call. “Everyone, I’m going to livestream a joke for you. Come and enjoy watching a broke guy with no shame trying to act rich.” After she spoke, the people on the video call were already roaring with laughter. The saleswoman, Sarah, looked a bit bewildered but politely turned to me. “Sir, what kind of property are you interested in?” I smiled, then looked at Veronica. “How big of a place are you planning to buy?” Veronica proudly puffed out her chest. “My husband is buying us a fully furnished, 135-square-meter, three-bedroom, one-living room apartment. That’s over three million dollars! A price you couldn’t afford in a lifetime.” Damien also smiled, looking self-satisfied. Everyone in the group was raving about how lucky Veronica was to be getting such a big, luxurious home. I turned to Sarah, the saleswoman. “Do you have any villas? I’d like to buy a villa. Money is not an issue.” At my words, the people on the video call doubled over with laughter. “Asher, you really are a show-off! How dare you say money’s not an issue and you want a villa? I’m staying right here, watching to see if you can actually afford it!” “No way, I need to record this. I’ll post it online so people can see what a failed attempt at showing off looks like.” “Veronica’s getting a bigger house, and he’s just putting on a show for his pathetic self-esteem. Poor saleswoman, she’s stuck wasting her time with this jerk today.” Veronica heard what the group said and looked at me with a smirk. My son, Leo, glared at me and yelled, “God, you’re so embarrassing! Mom and I were totally right not to stick with you!” Sarah, the saleswoman, looked a bit awkward. “Sir, are you sure you want to look at villas?” “Positive. Just show me your best villas.” Seeing my serious expression, Sarah nodded and led us to the villas, introducing the properties carefully. “Mr. Asher, this villa is top-notch in terms of both its surroundings and its interior design. However, the price is also higher, coming in at over twenty-two million dollars. What do you think, this…” Sarah hesitated, and Veronica burst out laughing. “I told you, don’t waste your breath! He’s definitely going to say he doesn’t like it or it’s not what he’s looking for.” Leo also sneered, “How else would he save face? With all those eyes watching.” The people on the video call were also laughing. They all watched me like I was a joke. “Alright! I’ll take this one.” I swept my gaze over them, a deep glint in my eyes. I’d come here planning to buy a house anyway. And this villa truly did suit my taste. Of course, I was going to buy it. The moment I said that, everyone burst out laughing even harder. Damien directly told Sarah, “Don’t get your hopes up. This guy’s just trying to look important. Forget a villa, he can’t even afford a broom closet!”

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I was two minutes late and had my entire year-end bonus, a whopping ten thousand dollars, docked. Mr. Sterling, the factory director, made an example of me at a company-wide meeting, declaring it a stark warning to everyone else. I didn’t argue, didn’t make a scene. I just quietly accepted it. From that day on, I clocked in at the very last second, and the moment the dismissal bell rang, my computer was off, and I was out the door. 0 The March wind still carried a biting chill, howling through the bare branches of the trees around the factory, a desolate sound. Inside Assembly Line 3, however, it was eerily silent. All the machines had stopped, the usual deafening roar replaced by the collective breathing of hundreds of people. I, Avery Hayes, stood right in the center. Everyone’s gaze, like searchlights, converged on me—pity, schadenfreude, fear, and undisguised curiosity. On the high platform, the newly appointed factory director, Mr. Sterling, held a microphone, spitting as he spoke. His slick face flushed red, a glow born from the intoxicating rush of power. “What kind of enterprise are we? We are the group’s benchmark! And what is discipline? It is the lifeline of this company!” His voice, distorted and shrill through the loudspeaker, scraped against everyone’s eardrums like a blunt knife. “But still, there are always a few individuals, disorganized, undisciplined! Self-important, treating company rules like they’re nothing!” His hand abruptly pointed at me. “Avery Hayes! Engineer in the Technical Department! This morning, two minutes late! A full two minutes!” He emphasized the words, as if those two minutes were an unforgivable crime. “According to the newly enacted labor discipline regulations, one minute late means a hundred-dollar deduction. Two minutes late, the nature of the offense is egregious! I have decided to deduct Avery Hayes’s entire year-end bonus for this year, totaling ten thousand dollars!” “Ten thousand!” A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. That ten thousand dollars represented a year of my hard work, countless all-nighters, and overcoming endless technical challenges. Now, because of two minutes, it was gone. I stood rooted to the spot, dressed in faded blue overalls, my eyes behind black-framed glasses showing not a single ripple of emotion. I was just thinking about how I’d stayed up until 4 AM last night, poring over a German document to crack the K-factor compensation algorithm for the A-7 equipment’s servo motor. When my alarm went off, I thought I was still dreaming. Was any of that necessary to explain? To someone whose only goal was to assert dominance, there was no point in even trying to communicate. Beside me, Mark, a good-natured engineer in his fifties, was sweating profusely, secretly winking at me, his lips silently forming the words: “Just give in, Avery, quickly, just give in.” I saw him, but I simply shook my head slightly. My silence seemed to thoroughly infuriate Mr. Sterling on the stage. He felt his authority challenged—an engineer, and a woman at that, dared to be so calm in front of him. He pulled the microphone closer, his voice almost a roar: “Avery Hayes! Do you have anything to say? Do you have any objections to this disciplinary decision? If not, come up and sign the confirmation!” He wanted to see me cry, to beg, to break down. That way, his “example” would be truly made. Under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, I began to walk, one step at a time, toward the high platform. The steps weren’t many, but it felt like I walked for an eternity. Every step felt like I was treading on the ashes of ten years of my youth. I took the flimsy disciplinary notice from Mr. Sterling’s hand. The black words on it twisted like venomous snakes. I picked up the pen from the table. Mr. Sterling’s face was already etched with the triumphant sneer of a victor. He thought I would ultimately yield. I held the pen, my hand steady, not a tremor. In the signature box, I meticulously wrote my name. Avery Hayes. Two words, calm and firm. After signing, I pushed the notice back to him, ignoring his stunned expression, and turned to leave. Below, a dead silence. No one had expected such an outcome. No arguments, no tears, just a calm acceptance, like signing a document in someone else’s story. I returned to my workstation, ignoring the complex gazes behind me, put on my noise-canceling headphones, and opened my laptop. The unfinished algorithm model from last night immediately popped up on the screen. It was as if everything that had just happened was merely a ridiculous farce that had nothing to do with me. Kevin Sterling, Mr. Sterling’s nephew, newly transferred to the technical department and rumored to be taking my place, let out a small, contemptuous snicker not far behind me. “Who does she think she is? Without the golden child, how do you expect anything to get done? Don’t try to act so superior.” I heard it. The classical music in my headphones couldn’t drown out the ugliness of human nature. I didn’t turn around. The clock’s second hand ticked, a dull, rhythmic beat. At precisely 5 PM, the dismissal bell shrilly cut through the air of the workshop. I took off my headphones, shut down my laptop, neatly organized the blueprints on my desk, put them in a drawer, and locked it. The entire process was fluid, without a single wasted movement. I picked up my backpack and walked toward the time clock. I was the first in the entire workshop to punch my employee ID. “Beep—” A crisp confirmation tone announced the end of my workday. My war had just begun. 0

The next morning, I timed it perfectly. With ten seconds left before official start time, I rushed through the factory gates. The time clock displayed: 8:00:00 AM. Perfect. Changing into my work uniform, I walked into Assembly Line 3. Usually, I’d arrive half an hour early. That’s because the A-7, the most valuable German-imported equipment in the entire factory, had a peculiar temperament. It needed to be preheated and have several core parameters finely tuned to ensure the first batch of products after startup reached optimal yield. This was a habit passed down by my mentor, the former chief engineer, and a tacit understanding I had always maintained. But today, I decided that tacit understanding could go to hell. I walked to my workstation, took out my travel mug, and unhurriedly brewed a cup of tea. Steam clouded my glasses. David, the workshop manager, a man in his forties, frowned at my leisurely pace but said nothing. He knew my habits and probably assumed I had already finished the debugging. At 8:30 AM, the startup bell rang. The massive production line, like a slumbering steel behemoth, began to slowly awaken. Conveyor belts rolled, robotic arms swung, and everything looked as usual. Until the first batch of products emerged from the A-7 equipment. “Screech—” An incredibly harsh metal grinding sound abruptly echoed throughout the workshop. Immediately afterward, the A-7’s alarm light began to flash wildly, a dazzling red. “What’s going on?!” David was the first to rush over. He picked up a freshly produced item and his face instantly turned ugly. “They’re all defective! Scratches on the surface! This whole batch is ruined!” Everyone’s gaze, in unison, turned back to me. I slowly wiped my glasses clean, walked over, and glanced at the flashing error code on the screen. “Servo motor torque overload, causing robotic arm positioning accuracy deviation.” I calmly stated the facts. “Avery! Didn’t you debug it this morning?” David was agitated, his voice laced with accusation. I spread my hands and pointed to the “Operator’s Manual” on the wall, reading out loud, word for word: “Article 3: Equipment inspection and debugging before startup are normal work tasks and should be performed during official working hours. It’s currently just past 8:30 AM, which is official working time.” My voice wasn’t loud, but every word was crystal clear. David was choked into silence, his face turning a deep, mottled red. Of course, he knew the rules were rigid, but for the past ten years, I had “voluntarily” completed this task ahead of time. They had grown accustomed to my effort and had come to take it for granted. “I’ve got this!” A voice cut in. Kevin Sterling pushed his way through, his face alight with eagerness to impress. “It’s just a torque parameter, right? I understand it!” He pushed aside the operator and sat down at the control panel, furiously typing away. Mr. Sterling, who had somehow heard the commotion and rushed over, looked approvingly at his nephew’s initiative. He shot me a scathing glare, an expression that seemed to say: See? The world still turns without you. I hugged my travel mug, retreated to the side, and watched with cold indifference. Kevin adjusted the torque parameter upward. The alarm stopped, but the machine’s operating sound became heavier, like an asthmatic struggling to breathe. “Done!” Kevin triumphantly stood up, seeking praise from his uncle. Mr. Sterling nodded in satisfaction, patting his shoulder: “Excellent, Kevin. Young people need to be brave enough to take responsibility! Not like some, who draw a high salary but only know how to shirk duties!” His words were clearly aimed at me. I ignored him, simply watching the new products emerge on the conveyor belt. The scratches were gone, but a faint burr appeared around the edges of the products. An untrained eye wouldn’t notice, but under the high-precision instruments of quality control, this batch of products was still scrap. I didn’t expose it. Why should I? In the afternoon, a core pressure sensor on the production line required annual calibration. It was delicate work, and one of my “specialties.” When I used to do it, relying on experience and feel, I could finish it in half an hour, with precision far exceeding the standard. Today, David approached me again, his tone noticeably more polite. “Avery, about that sensor, you see…” “Understood, David.” I nodded, taking out a thick “Sensor Standard Calibration Procedure Manual” from the cabinet. I opened to the first page and began the operation, step by step, strictly following the manual. Connecting wires, checking grounding, opening calibration software, inputting initial parameters… Every step, I performed meticulously, and agonizingly slowly. Mark watched beside me, stomping his feet in frustration. “Avery, you don’t usually do it this way. For that zero-point drift, you could just feel the casing’s temperature and get a pretty good estimate.” “Mark,” I said without looking up, “The manual says to use an infrared thermometer, record three readings, and take the average. I’m just following protocol.” Mark sighed, speechless. Two hours later, as the clock struck five and the dismissal bell rang again. My calibration work was still missing the final step: “data solidification.” “Ms. Hayes, Ms. Hayes! Just one more minute, just one minute! Save the data before you go!” David was practically pleading. I took off my safety glasses and powered down the equipment. “I’m sorry, David, but it’s time to clock out. The manual states that no precision instruments should be operated after working hours to prevent safety incidents.” With that, I picked up my backpack and, under the bewildered stares of everyone, once again clocked out precisely on time. Behind me, Mr. Sterling’s voice, suppressed to its absolute limit, roared. “Avery Hayes!!!” I didn’t look back, but a cold, sharp smile curved my lips. Mr. Sterling, that was just the appetizer. That evening, just as I got home, Mark’s call came through. His voice was filled with worry. “Avery, if you keep this up… Mr. Sterling will make your life hell. You can’t fight him, he’s got family connections.” “Mark,” I opened the fridge and grabbed a cold soda, “He’s already made my life hell. What else is there to fear?” “But what about the production line? Our mentor’s life’s work, it can’t be ruined like this.” The mention of my mentor made my heart ache. I was silent for a moment, then softly said, “Mark, sometimes, to protect something, you first have to make those who want to destroy it feel the pain.” Hanging up the phone, I took a sip of soda. The icy liquid slid down my throat, but it couldn’t extinguish the fire burning within me. 0

One week. In just one week, the production efficiency of Assembly Line 3 plummeted by thirty percent. The defect rate, moreover, skyrocketed to an unprecedented fifteen percent. The workshop was plagued by constant minor issues, alarms blaring intermittently like a discordant symphony. The other engineers were frantic. They could solve some routine problems, but anything involving the A-7’s core system left them helpless. Kevin, on the other hand, was overly eager, rushing to every problem. The result was often him turning small issues into big ones, and big ones into complete shutdowns. The entire workshop was filled with complaints, but no one dared to speak up openly. Mr. Sterling’s face grew darker with each passing day. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and called an emergency meeting for all technical personnel. In the conference room, smoke hung heavy, and the atmosphere was oppressive. Mr. Sterling sat at the head of the table, his fingers drumming heavily. “Look at yourselves! Look at what our factory has become! Low efficiency, mountains of defective products! You’ve shamed this company!” His gaze, sharp as a knife, sliced across every face. “I know some people are playing dirty, that they have issues with the new company regulations! But I’m telling you, for a company to develop, there must be iron discipline! From today on, I demand that everyone embrace a spirit of dedication, willingly work overtime, and recover the lost production capacity!” He paused, his gaze finally landing on me, like two poisoned nails. “Avery Hayes! As the factory’s only senior engineer, a technical backbone, you must take the lead!” He was cornering me. All eyes once again focused on me. I met his gaze calmly, adjusting my glasses. “Mr. Sterling,” I spoke, my voice soft but remarkably clear in the silent conference room. “According to Article 41 of the Labor Law, if an employer arranges for overtime work, overtime wages should be paid to the laborers in accordance with relevant state regulations. Article 44 clearly states that for overtime work on statutory holidays, no less than three hundred percent of the wage should be paid; for overtime work on rest days, compensatory leave should be arranged first, and if compensatory leave cannot be arranged, no less than two hundred percent of the wage should be paid.” I paused, watching his face grow increasingly grim, and continued: “May I ask, Mr. Sterling, which standard will we be following? As long as the standard is clear, I am willing to take the lead.” “You!” Mr. Sterling slammed his hand on the table, sprang to his feet, and pointed a finger at my face. “Do you have any sense of collective honor?! Are you trying to negotiate with me?!” “No,” I shook my head, my words clear and resonant, “I have respect for the Labor Law, and for our factory’s own regulations. The first rule of the factory regulations is to strictly abide by labor discipline. Since being late is severely punished, then working overtime should also be compensated. This isn’t negotiating, this is following the rules. Aren’t you the one who loves talking about rules the most?” “You… you…” Mr. Sterling trembled with rage, his face turning purple, his pointing hand shaking, yet he couldn’t utter a single word. Because everything I said was reasonable, every word legally sound. The “rules” he used to suppress me had now become my sharpest weapon against him. The entire conference room was silent. Everyone was stunned by my defiant stance. Under the table, Mark quietly gave me a thumbs up. The meeting, naturally, ended badly. I became the center of attention. Some said I was crazy, some said I was foolish, and some secretly admired my courage. I didn’t care. That night, the core drive shaft of the production line began to exhibit severe periodic tremors. This was a precursor to a major malfunction; if the drive shaft broke, the entire production line could be scrapped. Kevin, again, tried to show off, bringing a few of his newly recruited “loyalists” and confidently declaring he would fix it. At eleven o’clock that night, I received a call from Mark, his voice choked with tears. “Avery, something terrible has happened! Kevin and his team… not only couldn’t they find the problem, but they accidentally… accidentally deleted the A-7’s motion compensation program!” I held my phone, standing on the balcony, the night wind stirring my hair. I simply uttered a soft “Hmm.” “You need to come quickly! If you don’t, the production line will really be finished!” Mark was practically begging. “Mark, it’s after hours.” My voice was unnervingly calm. On the other end of the line, there was a long silence, followed by a heavy sigh. The next morning, as I arrived at my office, the door was kicked open. Mr. Sterling stormed in like an enraged bull, his eyes bloodshot and furious. “Avery Hayes!” He rushed to my desk, slamming both hands down on it, making my water cup jump. “What kind of work ethic is this?! The production line is in such serious trouble, why didn’t you come in last night?! Are you deliberately trying to retaliate?! Are you?!” He roared at me, his spittle nearly hitting my face. I leaned back in my chair, watching his flustered anger, and suddenly, I smiled. It was a genuine smile, tinged with a hint of mockery and pity. I raised my eyes, looking at him calmly. “Mr. Sterling, may I ask, do I still have a year-end bonus?” He froze, clearly not following my train of thought. I continued to smile, asking word by word: “No, right?” “Then why should I work overtime?” 0

Mr. Sterling’s face instantly changed from purple to pale, then from pale back to a deep, mottled red. He gaped, voiceless, like a duck with its neck wrung. On my desk, the small cactus was an irritatingly vivid green. He glared at me, his chest heaving violently, as if he might have a heart attack any second. Finally, he squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth: “Fine… fine! Avery Hayes, you’ve got guts!” With that, he stormed out, slamming the door so hard that dust rained down from the ceiling. I watched his retreating, disheveled back, my smile growing colder. A man consumed by humiliation would, inevitably, resort to even more foolish tactics. Sure enough, the next day, he gave me an impossible task. He demanded that I write a complete “Production Line Optimization Report,” covering all equipment and processes, within a single day. He sugar-coated it, saying it was for me, the technical backbone, to play a core role. In reality, he wanted to force me to work overtime, or to accuse me of “neglect of duty.” I accepted the task. Then, at 5 PM, I clocked out precisely on time. The next morning, I placed a two-page report on Mr. Sterling’s desk. The report’s title: “Analysis of Core Issues Affecting Current Production Line Inefficiency.” The content was extremely concise. 1. Core Issue: Long-term inadequate maintenance leading to performance degradation of key equipment. 2. Direct Cause: Multiple recent unauthorized operations by non-professional personnel, disrupting core system stability. 3. Recommendation: Immediately restrict non-professional personnel from accessing core equipment and conduct re-qualification certification for all operators. Each point was like a resounding slap, hitting Mr. Sterling and his precious nephew right in the face. “Avery Hayes!” Mr. Sterling roared in his office, tearing the report into shreds, the paper fluttering down like snowflakes. “Is this a report?! You’re accusing *me*! I’m warning you, if you continue with this passive resistance, I will formally terminate your employment on grounds of dereliction of duty!” I stood opposite him, took out my phone from my pocket, and pressed play. “…Are you deliberately trying to retaliate?! Are you?!” “…if you continue with this passive resistance, I will formally terminate your employment on grounds of dereliction of duty!” His voice, from yesterday and today’s two咆哮 threats in my office, echoed clearly in the quiet room. Mr. Sterling’s face instantly turned ashen white. He stared at the phone in my hand, and for the first time, fear flickered in his eyes. He realized I wasn’t a docile sheep, but a hedgehog that had already laid traps, waiting for him to fall into them. Neither soft tactics nor hard tactics would work. Mr. Sterling finally quieted down for a few days. But he didn’t give up. He used his connections at Group Headquarters to poach a supposed “technical expert” named Dr. Bennett from a competitor in a neighboring city, offering him double the salary. Dr. Bennett, a man in his forties with a receding hairline and gold-rimmed glasses, arrived at the factory with the air of a savior. Mr. Sterling treated him like an honored guest, introducing him grandly in the workshop, in front of everyone. “This is Dr. Bennett, a renowned technical authority in the province! From now on, all technical issues at our factory will be fully entrusted to Dr. Bennett!” His gaze provocatively swept over me. The implication was clear: Avery Hayes, you’ve been replaced. Many people looked at me with sympathy. Only Mark, worried, whispered to me: “Avery, I’ve heard about this Dr. Bennett. His reputation isn’t great, he likes to boast.” I smiled: “Let him boast, Mark. The harder the wind blows, the more likely he is to trip over his own tongue.” On his first day, Dr. Bennett went straight to the core equipment, the A-7. He circled the machine a few times, pointing and commenting knowledgeably. “Hmm, German equipment. The design philosophy is advanced, but the control logic is too rigid, it doesn’t quite suit our operational habits. I’ll take care of this problem.” He sat down at the control panel, attempting to access the backend system. Then, he froze. He couldn’t understand some of the code comments I had left. Those comments were written in a unique style that only my mentor and I understood, mixed with our “insider language” and abbreviations. For example, “Y_Comp” stood for “Yuan-Compensation,” Yuan being my mentor’s first name. Dr. Bennett scratched his head, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he stared at the screen. Kevin, standing nearby, wanted to help but couldn’t, pacing anxiously. And the worst was yet to come. In the afternoon, Mr. Sterling’s assistant rushed in, frantic, holding an email. “Mr. Sterling, an urgent email from Bosch Group Germany! They’re asking about the latest operating data for the ‘L-W Optimization Module,’ saying it’s crucial for their decision on additional orders! They need a reply today!” Mr. Sterling handed the email to Dr. Bennett. Dr. Bennett looked at the unfamiliar term “L-W Optimization Module” in the email, completely baffled. “L-W Module? What’s this? It’s not in the equipment manual?” Mr. Sterling was also bewildered. He turned to me, demanding sharply: “Avery! What is this L-W module? Is this your doing?” I looked up, meeting their gaze calmly. “L-W, Avery Hayes. My initials.” “That module is a power optimization and precision compensation system I developed independently, based on my mentor’s original work. It’s specifically designed to match that batch of special custom products for the Bosch Group.” “Oh, right,” I added, my tone casual, yet it landed like a bombshell. “The software copyright and technical patent for this module are registered under my personal name. I merely granted the factory a royalty-free license for its use.” The entire office fell into a deathly silence. Mr. Sterling and Dr. Bennett’s expressions froze, a priceless silent movie. I saw the shock, the anger, and a hint of undisguised panic in Mr. Sterling’s eyes. A thrill of vengeful satisfaction, mixed with a sense of impending crisis, quietly rose within me. Mr. Sterling, now, you know what it feels like to hurt, don’t you? 0 Only three days remained until the German client’s final delivery deadline. And that multi-million-dollar production line, after days of “effort” by Dr. Bennett and Kevin, had not only failed to improve but had completely broken down.

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The day I was exposed as the fake daughter of the Anderson family, the real daughter Anna Anderson burst through the front door and stabbed me multiple times in the abdomen, causing me to lose the ability to become a mother forever. My fiancé Weston Thompson was furious about this incident, and my adoptive parents Robert Anderson and Maria Anderson urgently declared that they would never acknowledge Anna as their daughter. To comfort me, Weston proposed to me as quickly as possible, while Robert and Maria immediately wrote a formal document severing ties with Anna, telling me to rest and recover peacefully. Later, they told me that Anna had fled abroad and been sold into trafficking. She deserved it, and I believed their words. Until our sixth Christmas after marriage, I actually saw Anna, who was supposed to be suffering abroad. She was leaning against Weston’s embrace with a pregnant belly. Anna said with emotion, “If I hadn’t lost my temper and made that mistake six Christmases ago, Harper wouldn’t have had the chance to marry you.” Harper Anderson is my name. She paused, then continued, “Fortunately, you and Mom and Dad all sided with me. Otherwise, that imposter would have sent me to prison long ago. She probably never imagined I’ve been living around her all this time, and I’m even carrying your child. “Once I give birth, you can find some excuse to adopt the child, then make her spend her whole life as my nanny. Thank you for these Christmases, Weston.” Anna looked at Weston with loving eyes, and Weston’s cheeks flushed red. He said, “Don’t say that! Only by marrying her could I let you continue living with a clean reputation. As long as you’re okay, everything I do is worth it.” So it turned out that Weston, who I thought loved me deeply, had been deceiving me all along. Robert and Maria were just covering up for their biological daughter Anna’s crimes. Since they all treated me this way, I no longer wanted these so-called “family” and “lover.” ***** After seeing Anna at the maternity hospital—a sight I’ll never forget—I stood frozen in place, feeling all the blood in my body flowing backward. The pain of that Christmas knife piercing my abdomen still lingered in my mind, while Weston, who once cried saying he felt sorry for me, was now tenderly holding Anna and gently stroking her belly. Even from a distance, I could feel the fatherly love radiating from him. It turned out that the marriage I had always considered my salvation was nothing but a complete fraud from beginning to end. Robert and Maria told me they would always stand by my side, but they had long ago secretly destroyed the evidence of Anna’s assault and forced Weston to marry me. They did this only to provide Anna with an extra layer of protection, ensuring she wouldn’t go to prison for intentional assault. How ridiculous! I suppressed my grief and avoided Weston’s gaze. Just then, my phone rang—it was Robert and Maria calling. The urgent ringtone seemed to hint at how anxious the people on the other end were. I calmed myself down and answered the call. Robert said over the phone, “Harper, where did you go? The housekeeper told me you left at noon. Did you go to the hospital? Why are you so disobedient? Your mother and I have told you many times that with your poor health, you must have someone with you when you go out. What would we do if something happened to you on the road?” I dug my well-manicured nails into my flesh, trying to stay alert. Was he asking these questions at this moment because he was truly afraid something might happen to me, or because he was afraid I might discover the truth? Robert continued, “Harper, did you hear what I said? Where are you now? Your mother and I are already at the hospital. We’ll come find you right away.” His caring inquiry cut into my heart like a knife. I thought for a moment, then responded in a gentle voice, “I’m in the restroom at the obstetrics department. Dad, you and Mom are just too worried. I’m just here for a check-up. What could happen to me? Besides, I’m an adult now—I can’t keep troubling you all the time.” I deliberately complained in a relaxed manner, which made Robert and Maria on the other end of the phone breathe a sigh of relief. A few minutes later, Maria rushed into the restroom. She grabbed my hands and looked me up and down, asking, “Nothing happened to you, right? Did you get your check-up done?” Her eyes were full of unease. Thinking about Weston and Anna who had hurriedly left earlier, I immediately understood. Robert and Maria following me around constantly wasn’t because they were afraid something might happen to me—they were afraid I might run into Anna and ruin their plan. I said to Maria, “Mom, I’m fine. I felt nauseous as soon as I got to the hospital, so I was delayed for a while and haven’t had time to get the check-up yet.” Maria instinctively responded, “That’s good.” Soon, she realized her reaction was inappropriate and immediately turned to look at me seriously. She continued, “Your father and I are both here. How could we let you face those cold machines alone? Let’s go together.” Standing at the restroom door was a kind-looking middle-aged man—Robert. Although I wasn’t his biological daughter, I had grown up surrounded by his love. I always thought he was the person who loved me most in the world. Only today did I realize that in the face of blood relations, all the love I had felt before meant nothing. Since they treated me this way, it was time for me to give them a “gift” in return.

Robert walked over to me, naturally positioning himself on my left side as he chatted with me. “Why did you come here alone? Are you okay?” Maria shot Robert a playfully reproachful look, then rested her head on my shoulder. She said, “Harper’s fine. She’s grown up now and knows how to care for us.” Robert pretended to be annoyed and gently pinched my cheek. “Either way, you can’t come to the hospital by yourself. Do you hear me?” Taking advantage of this moment, I slipped my phone, which I’d already set to record, into Robert’s pocket. I said, “I know I was wrong. I need to go for my checkup now. Dad, can you hold my phone for me?” This was something we did regularly, so neither Robert nor Maria thought anything of it. When we reached the gynecology office, I walked into the examination room alone. Robert and Maria waved at me eagerly from the doorway, their eyes full of concern. In the past, I would have felt grateful for having the best family in the world. But now, I only felt afraid. It was like countless venomous snakes were crawling all over my body, ready to deliver a fatal strike at any moment. After I finished all my tests, Maria immediately took the reports to consult with a specialist. She asked, “How is Harper doing?” Meanwhile, Robert pulled out the notebook he always carried with him. The notebook was filled with details about my preferences and dietary restrictions. If I hadn’t discovered the truth, I would have thought they were parents who deeply loved their child. I said to them, “Dad, Mom, I need to use the restroom.” I playfully retrieved my phone from Robert, then walked into the bathroom with trembling legs. Before playing the recording, I had mentally prepared myself countless times. But when I heard the first sentence, my heart still felt like it was being stabbed with needles. The recording captured my attending physician’s voice: “Mr. Robert Anderson, Mrs. Maria Anderson, Miss Anderson has been recovering quite well these past few months. All her wounds from that time have healed. As long as she takes care of herself, she should be able to get pregnant soon. Should we stop the medication she’s currently taking? “I’m afraid if she continues taking it, she really won’t be able to have children. Isn’t that too cruel to her?” He sounded somewhat guilty. Depriving a woman of the right to become a mother was inherently cruel. But the next second, Robert cut him off directly. He said, “I didn’t hire you to worry about these things. The medication cannot be stopped! “It’s just a child. We can adopt one, and it’ll save her from the pain of childbirth.” Maria chimed in, “Harper’s health has never been good anyway. Not having children is what’s best for her. We don’t need an outsider telling us what to do. You’re just a doctor. Just do what you’re supposed to do. Do you understand?” Their tone was particularly harsh, so the doctor quickly agreed. He said, “I didn’t mean to overstep. Mr. Robert Anderson, I’m just reminding you that at this dosage, I’m afraid Miss Anderson might overdose. Not only will she be unable to become a mother, but it could also harm her health.” This sounded like a serious problem, but Robert didn’t care at all. He said, “I understand. That’s not something you need to worry about. Just make sure her wounds heal properly. Everything else is none of your business.” The doctor replied, “Yes, sir.” The recording ended there. I felt cold all over. All these months, I had been feeling incredibly guilty about not being able to give Weston a child. Robert and Maria always comforted me, saying it wasn’t my fault and that having children couldn’t be forced. It turned out they were the ones in the wrong all along. My inability to conceive was fake. They simply didn’t want me to have Weston’s child. In their eyes, I wasn’t worthy of bearing Weston’s children—only their biological daughter Anna was. No wonder after all these months, I was still taking medication. Everything had been a lie. The doctor was fake, and their claims of “doing this for my own good” were fake too. Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably. My body trembled, and I felt completely drained of strength. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Maria had noticed I’d been gone for a long time. “Harper.” Maria was particularly anxious, knocking on each bathroom door one by one, terrified that something had happened to me. I answered, “I’m in here.” After wiping away my tears, I walked out to Maria with red-rimmed eyes. Seeing me in this state, Maria was shocked. She reached out to touch my face and asked, “What’s wrong? Who upset you? Why were you crying? Talk to me, okay?” The face before me looked no different from the past, yet I felt a wave of nausea in my stomach. I told her, “I’m fine, Mom. I probably ate something bad, so my stomach’s a bit upset.” I leaned against Maria’s shoulder, hiding the hatred in my eyes. She helplessly ruffled my hair and took me back to Thompson Manor. Weston had already learned I was home, so he was waiting at the door. This man who had been touching another woman’s belly just two hours ago now tenderly embraced me, gently rubbing my stomach. He said, “I heard from Maria that your stomach was bothering you, so I rushed back to make you some soup. It’s almost ready. Have some and then rest.” Only then did I notice he still had an apron tied around his waist. If I hadn’t witnessed everything at the hospital today, I never would have believed that Weston, who took such thoughtful care of me in daily life, had always loved someone else in his heart. When we got married, he even moved near Anderson Manor specifically so I could be closer to home. Even in his midnight dreams, he would call out my name, yet he still didn’t love me. The person Weston loved was Anna. For Anna’s sake, he was willing to marry me and go through the motions with me for all these years. I truly admired his acting skills. I said to Robert and Maria, “Dad, Mom, come in and have dinner with us.” After helping me sit down on the sofa, Weston returned to the kitchen to continue his work. Robert and Maria kept remarking how lucky I was to have found such a wonderful man. But I found myself staring at a painting on the wall. I had never understood why Weston insisted on hanging this ugly-looking painting in the most prominent spot. Now, seeing Robert and Maria’s eyes drawn to this painting as soon as they entered, and noticing the letter “A” on it, I finally understood. Because the person who painted it was important to them, this painting had to be displayed in the most visible place. Weston emerged from the kitchen, saying, “Dinner’s ready.” After all the dishes were served, I suddenly realized that throughout all these years, the food Weston cooked wasn’t what I liked to eat at all. For the past six years, I had kept this question buried in my heart, thinking, “These are dishes Weston loves. He works so hard taking care of me, so accommodating his tastes at mealtime is the least I can do.” But now I realized something. Were these really dishes he liked? Or were they what Anna liked? Seeing my pale complexion, Weston worriedly placed some food on my plate. “Harper, what’s wrong?” Maria paused, her tone becoming stiff as she said, “Seeing you two so happy puts your father and me at ease. It’s just that I don’t know…” Her unfinished words referred to Anna. Throughout all these years, she would inevitably bring up Anna during happy moments. I had always been grateful that they gave up their biological daughter for me, so whenever I heard her mention Anna, I felt too guilty to speak. Robert continued, “I don’t know how that child is doing now either. After all, she’s still your mother’s and my flesh and blood. We hope she’s not suffering too much abroad and that she’s at least alive. Harper, don’t blame your mother. She is, after all, a child your mother gave birth to. She’s already paid the price for what she did. What’s past is past. You should let go of the past too.”

Robert sighed and echoed Maria’s words. In their view, Anna had already paid a terrible price, and I shouldn’t be so petty about it. So I deserved to nearly lose my life? I lowered my eyes, expressing my displeasure through silence. Weston sensed my thoughts and showed me a cold expression for the first time. He said, “Harper, Maria’s getting older, don’t be angry with her. It’s been six years since what happened. You were the one who took Anna’s place from the beginning, enjoying over twenty years of a life that wasn’t yours. You shouldn’t blame Maria. After all, blood ties create deep emotional bonds. “No matter what, a mother can never let go of her love for her child. What’s more, Robert and Maria owed Anna from the start. “Didn’t we prepare that suburban villa for Anna back then? I’ll take Robert and Maria to see it this weekend as another way to honor her memory. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to, okay?” Though Weston’s tone sounded like he was asking for my opinion, it carried an undeniable firmness. I looked up at the three people around the table. Weston’s face was dark, and while Robert and Maria said nothing, the heavy atmosphere they radiated revealed their thoughts. Their expressions seemed to say that if I didn’t agree, I’d be an unforgivable villain. I answered calmly and obediently, “Sure. You should go. Anna was Mom and Dad’s biological daughter, after all. As for what happened back then, I bear some responsibility too. It’s right that you make this trip.” Seeing my agreement, Weston immediately brightened up. He said, “I knew my wife was the most gentle and kind-hearted. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to prepare all your favorite foods first before going out with Robert and Maria.” Maria wiped her tears with one hand while hugging me with the other. She said, “Harper has been kind since childhood. I thank you on Anna’s behalf. We failed Anna as parents.” Maria’s burning tears fell into the hollow of my neck. I trembled, burying my head in Maria’s embrace, my whole body going numb. They had wronged Anna, so they’d been brainwashing me for these six years. Now I almost believed that Anna stabbing me with a knife was justified. In my subconscious, I actually felt like I owed her, which was why she stabbed me. But the hospital mix-up wasn’t my choice. It wasn’t my sin. My biological parents, Daniel Gomez and Mia Gomez, hadn’t intentionally switched children either. I had indeed enjoyed over twenty years of a life that wasn’t mine. If Anna had wanted, I could have left the Anderson family at any time. I never wanted to compete with anyone for anything. What exactly had I done wrong to deserve their manipulation? A sharp pain shot through my chest, and I couldn’t help but dry heave before rushing to the bathroom. Weston followed closely behind, frightened, patting my back. He asked, “What’s wrong? Didn’t you just have a checkup today? What did the doctor say? Is there something wrong with your stomach? You really need to get treatment if you’re sick—don’t put it off.” Weston’s tone was gentle and caring. I couldn’t help wondering, “Is he worried about my discomfort, or afraid I might be pregnant?” Suppressing the uneasiness in my heart, I clung to Weston’s arm playfully. I said, “Weston, I’m pregnant. “You’re going to be a father soon. The doctor said it’s a blessing that I could conceive. Are you happy? We’re finally going to have a child of our own.” Weston’s smile instantly froze on his face. He stared at my expression, searching for any trace of a joke, but found nothing. He said, “Harper, don’t joke around. You can’t joke about something like this. Didn’t the doctor say your body wasn’t suitable for pregnancy?” Weston’s voice trembled, his eyes filled with panic. This was my husband. I smiled and said, “I’m not joking. Aren’t you happy?” Holding onto my last bit of hope, I waited for his answer. Weston composed his panicked expression and looked at me seriously. He said, “Honey, the doctor already said your current physical condition isn’t suitable for having children. You should get an abortion. If something happens to you, what would I do?” His “Honey” made me feel sick to my stomach—I nearly threw up. I asked, “What if I don’t want to?” Weston didn’t even blink before deciding to kill my child. I suddenly thought that maybe losing my fertility was actually lucky for me. At least my child wouldn’t have to be born into such a terrible family. Weston said, “Honey, I…” I smiled and cut him off, burying my head in his chest. “I was just kidding. The doctor said I can’t have children. Honey, thank you for staying with me all these Christmases.” In my heart, I thought: “And thank you for all the terrible things you’ve done to me these Christmases.” The weekend came quickly. Weston got up early, kissed my cheek, then made me lunch as fast as he could. Then he whispered to me, “Harper, I’m taking Robert and Maria out. Stay safe at home. If anything happens, you must tell me.” I nodded. Then I opened my phone while tears streamed down my face. Anna was right downstairs from my house. Before Weston even woke up, I’d received a photo from Anna. In the photo, Anna was sitting in a car. She kept sending messages to show off: [Harper, so what if you married Weston and became his wife? I’m the one who can give him children. You don’t really think they’re going to the villa to remember me, do you? Don’t be so naive. I’ve been living in that villa all these Christmases. Today is the day I’m going for my prenatal checkup.] [I just casually mentioned wanting the whole family to come with me for the checkup, and Dad, Mom, and Weston all agreed.] [Just like what happened six Christmases ago—I just pretended to be pitiful and shed a few tears, and Dad and Mom sacrificed you to preserve my reputation. Your life is truly pathetic.] Besides the messages, Anna also sent a bunch of photos. Over these six Christmases, Weston would always make time to travel with Anna. Sometimes they’d even bring Robert and Maria along, playing around like a family of four. But I was such a fool—I used to get happy over the little gifts Weston would casually bring me. Endless despair left my heart numb. I closed the chat window and bought a plane ticket for tomorrow. Given Anna’s temperament, she wouldn’t let Weston, Robert, and Maria come back tonight, which gave me the perfect opportunity to use the remaining time to leave this place. At noon, after eating just a few bites of food, I started organizing evidence. I really should thank Anna. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have gotten so much evidence proving how they schemed against me. With these things, I could not only divorce Weston without him getting a single cent, but also completely expose their true intentions before leaving. By the time I finished everything, it was already ten at night. Sure enough, just as I expected, Weston had no intention of coming back. He video-called me. The camera was blurry so I couldn’t see the background clearly, but I could definitely sense Anna was right beside him. But I didn’t call him out on it—I just smiled and promised him I’d take good care of myself. The next day, I got up very early. Many people came to the house—they were the renovation workers I’d called. For all the things I couldn’t take with me, I had them tear everything down. As for those little trinkets Weston used to give me, I’d seen identical ones on Anna’s Instagram, and mine were obviously the freebies. I certainly didn’t want things that others had discarded. Two hours later, the renovation workers left with all the dismantled items. I took out photos of me with Weston, Robert, and Maria from all these Christmases, then pulled out a lighter and burned them all. The fire alarm in the house went off with a piercing wail. I grabbed my suitcase and walked out the front door. This was my final “gift” to Weston. By the time he rushed back, I’d be long gone from this city.

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At a banquet, my father Wyatt Roberts arranged for me to marry Julian Ortiz, the financial talent he had personally mentored. At that time, I didn’t know Julian already had someone he loved. Later, Wyatt’s company was exposed for product fraud. The stock price plummeted, and they faced criminal prosecution. Julian immediately brought his first love, Natalia Hall, back home and told me right to my face that he wanted to marry Natalia. Then Julian’s mother, Luna Ortiz, scolded me too. She said, “Your family is bankrupt now, and you can’t even have children. What right do you have to stop my son from marrying another woman?” Julian pushed the divorce papers in front of me and said with contempt, “If you sign obediently, I might still let you stay in the house and live with Natalia.” I simply booked a plane ticket to leave this place. In seven days, I would be going south with Wyatt and my mother, Eloise Roberts. ***** Right after my family went bankrupt, Julian couldn’t wait to bring Natalia home. He pushed a divorce agreement in front of me and said, “In five days, I’m marrying Natalia. I’ve wronged her for too many years already—I can’t let her down anymore. If you behave, I might still let you stay in the house and live with her.” My family had just gone bankrupt, yet Julian was in such a rush that he wouldn’t even wait one more day. I looked at him quietly. Julian’s eyes were ice-cold, looking at me like I was a complete stranger. We’d been married for five years, and I hadn’t touched his heart even once. I hurriedly lowered my head, fighting back the trembling in my body, and took out a pen to sign the divorce papers. I said softly, “Okay.” Anyway, I wouldn’t be staying here much longer. From now on, whoever Julian chose to be with had nothing to do with me. Julian raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting me to be so straightforward. He picked up the agreement, glanced at it to make sure I’d signed correctly, then stood up. Then he said, “Fine. When I have time, I’ll take you to finalize the divorce.” After saying that, Julian walked away without looking back. He never wasted words on me. Once his figure disappeared, I took out my phone and booked a flight south for five days later. Once we got the divorce certificate, we’d be completely separated, never to bother each other again. Five years ago, at Wyatt’s company Christmas party, I fell in love with Julian, whom he had personally cultivated. The next day, Julian got my WhatsApp through Wyatt. Within half a year, we were smoothly married. I thought it was a perfectly matched, happy marriage. Later, Natalia posted photos of her wedding online. That day, Julian got very drunk. I was worried he felt sick, so I ended the remaining events early and brought him back to our room. But I never expected that as soon as I helped him onto the bed, he shoved me away hard. I crashed heavily into the table behind me. The vase on the table wobbled, then rolled off and shattered beside me. My heart jumped, and I didn’t dare move. Julian, who was usually so gentle, looked at me with bloodshot eyes. He roared, “Isabella, I hate you!” Isabella Roberts is my name. After a pause, Julian continued, “If you hadn’t liked me, if I hadn’t been forced to listen to your father just to escape my situation, how would I have been forced to marry you and watch Natalia marry someone else?” Julian’s gaze was as cold as if he were looking at an enemy. So all the sweet romance I thought we had was fake. I took a deep breath but felt suffocated, unable to catch my breath. We stared at each other for a long time, and his look scared me into tears. Julian sneered, then stood up unsteadily and threw the towel I’d used to wipe his face at me. He said, “Who cares? I want to divorce you and go find Natalia.” Julian’s eyes were unfocused, his cheeks flushed red—he was obviously very drunk. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have said such things. My voice trembling with tears, I said, “You’re drunk. Let’s talk about this when you sober up.” Julian ignored me and stumbled out of the room. I was stunned, then sat on the floor and cried my heart out. After crying myself exhausted, I went back to bed and fell asleep. When I woke up the next day and opened the door, Julian and I locked eyes. Then, with perfect understanding, we both turned our heads away. He didn’t mention divorce again, and I pretended he’d never said it. I pushed down the unease in my heart, thinking, “It’s okay. Natalia is already married. Someday I’ll be able to win Julian’s heart.”

Natalia’s husband had been abusing her. Starting three months ago, Julian helped Natalia gather evidence and eventually got her husband sent to prison. Later, when Julian saw Natalia covered in bruises and limping as she walked, he immediately arranged housing for her nearby. Now, he’s brought Natalia back to our home and says he wants to marry her. When Julian brought Natalia to my room, I was inside packing my things. Back then, Wyatt was worried I wouldn’t be well taken care of at Julian’s house, so he gave me a lot of money along with many wedding gifts. Even though Julian refused to share a room with me, I still used that money to decorate the room according to his preferences, hoping for the day we could live together. Now, I need to liquidate all these decorations and valuables to pay for Wyatt’s legal fees. Julian said coldly and firmly, “This room will be Natalia’s from now on.” This room had the best natural light and its own private balcony. Natalia stood behind him, looking toward the balcony with excitement in her eyes. This was the first time I ever refused Julian. I said, “I don’t agree. There’s another guest room downstairs. Why can’t she stay there?” Julian’s expression darkened. He said, “Because Natalia likes it here. She’s not well and needs to recover somewhere with plenty of sunlight. Besides, the room’s decor perfectly suits her taste.” Looking at the rich oil painting-style decorations throughout the room, I said nothing. Natalia wore a pink dress and smiled at me, looking just like a girl from an oil painting. So that was the truth. Seeing me staring at Natalia, Julian blocked my view with his body. He said, “I’m not asking for your opinion. Have your things moved out by 3 PM.” Then Julian’s tone softened slightly. He said, “Just be good, okay?” I lowered my head and said, “Okay.” Since my family went bankrupt, I’d lost my biggest source of support. Julian no longer needed to consider my feelings or pretend we were a loving couple. Before 2 PM, I had moved my luggage to the guest room downstairs. This guest room had no balcony. With trees blocking the windows, I had to keep the lights on even during the day. Afterward, I took out all the expensive jewelry Julian had given me over the years, planning to sell them. Chloe Gray, the jewelry store owner, knew me. When she saw me, she smiled and welcomed me into the back room. I laid out all the jewelry pieces in front of her, one by one. The first was the black pearl necklace Julian gave me when he confessed his feelings. Back then, he had just gained Wyatt’s trust and spent all his savings to buy it. The second was the blue diamond ring he placed on my finger with tears in his eyes at our wedding. He had just been promoted by Wyatt then and had someone buy it from downtown. The third was his apology gift after his last drunken episode—a pair of deer-shaped earrings. I loved those earrings because he once said I was as lively and cute as a little deer, like a little sprite. Watching me take out each piece of jewelry, Chloe straightened up. She asked, “Aren’t these all gifts Mr. Ortiz gave you? They’re all quite valuable now and hard to find. Are you sure you want to sell them?” I nodded and said, “Yes.” Chloe carefully examined each piece. After confirming their authenticity, she transferred the money to my account. I didn’t haggle and left the jewelry store as soon as I received the payment. As I walked out, I saw Julian holding Natalia’s hand as they browsed the shops. Julian bent down to listen to Natalia whisper in his ear, the two of them standing very close. He asked Natalia, “Do you like this bracelet?” Natalia smiled and nodded, “It’s beautiful.” Julian immediately had the clerk wrap up the bracelet. When he looked up, our eyes met, and surprise flashed across his face. Then he instinctively looked at my hands. The blue diamond ring I always wore was gone. Julian immediately walked over and grabbed my wrist, asking, “Where’s the ring?” I looked at him quietly and lied for the first time. I said, “I put it away when I was packing.” Julian clearly didn’t believe me and gripped my hand tighter, causing me pain and making me struggle. Natalia hurried over in panic and tugged at Julian’s sleeve. She said softly, “Julian.” As if suddenly snapping back to reality, Julian released my hand. Then he said quietly, “I’m sorry.” Chloe watched this scene with disbelief. Feeling humiliated, I lowered my head and quickly left.

The day before I was set to leave, Luna called asking me to handle Julian and Natalia’s wedding arrangements. I had other unfinished business to deal with, so I declined outright. However, Luna, who usually appeared gentle, instantly flew into a rage. She screamed at me: “Your family is bankrupt now, and you can’t even bear children. What gives you the right to stop my son from remarrying?” I didn’t argue with her, instead responding calmly: “He can remarry. I’m just busy lately and don’t have time to deal with wedding arrangements.” Julian never asked for my opinion before deciding to divorce me and marry someone else. Why should I help them prepare their wedding? Not wanting to hear Luna speak anymore, I hung up directly. When I returned home, I encountered Julian again in the front yard. He was wearing light gray casual clothes, chatting with Natalia, his face full of relaxed smiles. He laughed while pouring coffee for Natalia. Natalia wore a pair of exquisite pearl earrings that sparkled in the sunlight. The flowers in the yard swayed gently in the breeze. Against the backdrop of the blooms, their gazes appeared particularly intimate. Julian had left the Wyatt company the second year after our marriage to start his own business. All these years, he’d been busy—so busy that he never had a proper conversation with me, let alone spent time with me in the yard enjoying the sunshine. I froze for a moment, then immediately turned around and fled back to my room like I was escaping. The intimate image of the two of them kept flashing before my eyes. I shook my head desperately, trying to dispel these scenes. That fondness I had for Julian at the Christmas party years ago had trapped me until now. Only today did I finally understand—he had never loved me. His heart had always belonged only to Natalia. I ran to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, forcing myself to stay alert. After calming down, I began systematically checking the wedding gifts Wyatt had originally given me. However, after counting repeatedly, I found one item was still missing. I took out the list Wyatt had originally given me and compared it item by item, finally discovering the missing piece was a pair of pearl earrings. I had seen those earrings on Natalia’s ears. I immediately rushed into Natalia’s room. She had just returned, holding a diamond tiara in her hands, the smile still lingering at the corners of her mouth. Natalia and Julian’s wedding was in three days. I had assumed Julian had prepared everything long ago. I never imagined he would simply take my tiara for Natalia. I angrily snatched the tiara from her hands. Then I saw the pearl earrings on Natalia’s ears. I pinned her against the table with one hand while reaching for her earrings with the other. Natalia’s ear was injured because I used too much force. She cried from the pain, saying: “Let me go first. If you want the earrings, I’ll take them off myself.” I clutched the earrings and tiara to my chest, staring at her coldly. Natalia straightened up awkwardly, looking completely wronged. She said: “If you wanted them, you could have just asked me. Why did you have to treat me like this?” I snorted coldly and said: “You stole my things, and you still expect me to be nice to you? Dream on!” Natalia looked at me with innocent wide eyes, saying pitifully: “I didn’t steal anything.” Just then, I heard footsteps behind me. Julian suddenly pushed me aside and rushed forward to embrace Natalia. I crashed into the wall, my grip loosened, and the tiara rolled to the floor with a crack appearing in the center diamond. Julian stared at me, his eyes full of disgust. He said: “It’s just a tiara. I’m the one who gave it to her to wear. Now you’d rather break it than let Natalia wear it? Your family is already bankrupt. If you keep making trouble, I’ll throw you out.” Natalia cried heavily in his arms. When she looked at the tiara on the floor, she frowned with obvious disdain. Julian held her close, comforting her. He said: “Don’t cry. I’ll have someone make a new one right away. We’ll definitely have it ready for the wedding.” I wiped away my tears, then coldly bent down to pick up my tiara and earrings again. My heart felt torn in half, with pain spreading through my limbs. I just needed to wait a few more days. Once I got the divorce papers, once the plane took off, I could leave this place.

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My best friend Claire Miller and my boyfriend Andrew Evans never got along, even getting into physical fights several times. I thought this was what people online called “a good friend with boundaries” and “a considerate boyfriend who knows his place,” so I never had my guard up around either of them. Until one day during a trip, I accidentally saw Claire with her arms around Andrew’s neck, kissing him passionately. Claire even said, “That idiot Raelynn really thinks we don’t get along. She has no idea how many times we’ve hooked up.” Raelynn Phillips is my name. Then Claire continued, “Every time you and I pretend to fight, she gives me gifts to apologize. She’s such a fool. But don’t you dare break up with her. Otherwise, I won’t get this thrill anymore.” Listening to them mock me so mercilessly, my heart turned cold as I secretly pointed my phone camera at them. Since they loved making me their plaything and victim of deception, I was going to scheme against them too. ***** The intimate sounds from the room kept coming. My fingertips trembled—I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. My best friend Claire was actually with my boyfriend Andrew? Hadn’t they always had a terrible relationship, fighting every time they saw each other? But their intimate conversation reminded me that this was all real. Andrew said, “Baby, don’t worry. If I break up with her, you’d lose your graduate school recommendation, wouldn’t you? She told me a couple days ago that her academic report is almost finished. When the time comes, I’ll steal it and give it to you to help you win the first-place scholarship.” Hearing this, Claire was thrilled and leaned in to kiss Andrew again. She said, “Andrew, you’re so good to me. Raelynn has such a wonderful boyfriend, yet she neglects you every day at the library. She’s so stupid. But once she’s done with her studies, she’ll have plenty of time to spend with you. You won’t dump me for her, will you?” “Her?” Andrew acted like he’d heard the biggest joke in the world. He snorted and said, “I’ve been fed up with her for ages. We’ve been together for over a year, and she won’t even let me touch her. When I kiss her, it’s like kissing a piece of wood. How could some boring prude compare to you? If it weren’t for you, I would’ve broken up with her already.” He sounded particularly indignant, making Claire laugh non-stop. And I stood outside the door, feeling like all the blood in my body had stopped flowing. How could this be? What I thought was a “good friend” and “sweet romance” was nothing but a stupid joke in their eyes. Had they been lying to me about everything? I suppressed the urge to confront them and stumbled back to my room. That night, I couldn’t sleep at all. When I woke up the next day, my eyes were swollen and I looked haggard. As soon as Claire saw me, she rushed over with concern. She said, “Raelynn, what’s wrong? Didn’t you sleep well last night? I know what it is. Andrew must have been snoring too loudly and kept you awake! I told you we shouldn’t have brought him—just the two of us girls should’ve gone on this trip, but you wouldn’t listen!” Andrew immediately shot back, “Claire, what’s that supposed to mean? Raelynn is my girlfriend. As her boyfriend, of course I need to come along to protect her. Why do you always try to get between us?” Here they went again. I’d forgotten when it started, but these two seemed destined to fight whenever they were in the same room. At first, I thought they both wanted alone time with me, and I was caught up in the happiness of “being cared about by two people.” I even foolishly created opportunities like this trip for all three of us to hang out together, thinking I could help ease their conflicts. But now I knew their arguments were just a disguise to cover up their illicit relationship. I was the one who’d been playing the fool in the middle all along. The more fiercely they argued, the more abnormally I refrained from stepping in to stop them. Finally, Andrew put on his fed-up act and left the villa. After he left, Claire sat beside me and started her usual routine of trying to convince me to break up with him. She said, “Raelynn, look at that attitude of his. Being with someone so emotionally unstable, you’re bound to end up in an abusive relationship sooner or later. We’re best friends. Would I ever hurt you? I can’t bear to see you in such a bad situation.” The worry in Claire’s eyes looked genuine. Before, I’d been repeatedly deceived by this very expression, unable to see the truth and thinking Claire was genuinely concerned about me. Unfortunately, now I knew the whole truth. So every word she said made me feel sick. Probably seeing that I wasn’t reacting, Claire put on her usual disappointed and anxious expression. She said, “You still don’t want to break up with him? What kind of spell has Andrew cast on you? I’m telling you—if you don’t break up with him this time, we’re done being friends!” Claire angrily finished speaking, then deliberately moved to sit farther away from me and started playing on her phone. Soon enough, I saw a $2,000 skincare set appear in her recommended videos. When I looked up, I caught Claire stealing glances at me. I almost laughed out loud from anger. Claire had done this before. Every time she and Andrew finished “fighting,” she would “accidentally” let me discover something she was interested in lately. I was afraid of losing her as a friend. So no matter how expensive the item was, I would buy it and give it to her, hoping she wouldn’t hold grudges against Andrew. Claire’s daily necessities were pretty much all covered by me for this reason—headphones, clothes, cosmetics. But this time, I just glanced at the skincare set and said nothing. I’d already been scammed out of so much money by these two jerks. I hadn’t even figured out how to get that money back yet. And now Claire wanted me to keep spending? No way!

Because I didn’t respond, Claire and I fell into a strange cold war. Even Andrew noticed. After dinner, he made a point of asking me: “Raelynn, did you and Claire have a fight?” I nodded. “She told me to break up with you. I refused.” Andrew was stunned. After all, I’d never talked to him about these things before, and I was always singing Claire’s praises in front of him. He hadn’t expected me to be so direct, and he even forgot to put on his usual act of being upset. Finally, Andrew said: “No wonder she seemed to be in a bad mood. You should go apologize to her and cheer her up. Claire’s pretty great—you need to be more tolerant of her.” Did I hear that right? Andrew, who fought with Claire every single day, was telling me to be more tolerant of her? I let out a cold laugh and looked at Andrew. “That’s strange. You two fight every day, so I thought if Claire and I had a falling out, you’d be celebrating for three days straight. Why are you noticing her bad mood today and telling me to cheer her up?” Hearing my words, Andrew realized he’d said the wrong thing. He gave a guilty smile and reached out to hug me. He said: “I just don’t want you to be in a bad mood too. Everyone knows you two are closest. If you really had a falling out, you’d definitely cry. Baby, how could I bear to see you upset?” He called me “baby”—the exact same term he’d used for Claire that night. I felt a wave of nausea and instinctively dodged his embrace. I said: “You just finished smoking. The smell is too strong. Stay away from me.” Andrew sniffed at himself. He said: “Is it that bad? Then I’ll go take a shower first. Later I’ll come with you to find Claire so you can apologize. You need to be good.” Without giving me any chance to refuse, Andrew headed into the bathroom after speaking. Looking at his phone in his jacket pocket, I hesitated for a moment, then took it out. His passcode hadn’t changed—it was still my birthday, and his wallpaper was still a photo of us together. But everything had already changed. Andrew’s phone was clean, without even Claire’s social media accounts. I thought about it and kept searching. Sure enough, I found another WhatsApp hidden in a messy folder on his desktop. I clicked on it and discovered it was Andrew’s alternate account. His chat history with Claire was still active from just moments ago. The two of them were even calling each other “honey” now. My hands were shaking as I scrolled through their chat history, and I suddenly remembered I’d seen this account’s profile picture before. Back then, Claire had openly bragged to me about her flirtatious conversations with this account. She told me that’s how men were these days, and advised me not to be so traditional, or Andrew would be stolen away by someone else. But back then, I was completely absorbed in the illusion Andrew had created, and I’d confidently told her: “That won’t happen. Andrew is the most honest person in the world.” Thinking back to that moment, I wanted to slap myself hard for being so stupid. I scrolled through their chat history bit by bit. Even though I’d mentally prepared myself and tried to stay calm, tears still fell one by one. For three hundred and seventy-four days straight, they hadn’t gone a single day without contact. They’d started chatting just three months after Andrew and I got together. On the hundredth day anniversary of my relationship with Andrew, while I was heartbroken and guilt-ridden because family issues prevented me from coming back to celebrate, they had slept together. When Claire and I went shopping together, who could have imagined we were actually texting the same person? Even during those few days when I was away on a research trip, Andrew would chat with me until 2 AM every night, telling me he “loved me” and saying “goodnight,” but in reality he was holding another woman in his arms, having just finished having sex with her. All the timelines connected, like two parallel worlds sharing the same axis of time. Fighting back tears, I took screenshots of their chat history one by one, then restored his phone to exactly how it was, pretending nothing had happened. But no one knew that inside, I was dying from the pain.   I ultimately turned down Andrew’s suggestion. Using the excuse that I wasn’t feeling well, I returned to my room early. Though he noticed something was off about me, he didn’t say much—just told me to get some rest. Then he left. I didn’t need to think twice to know he was definitely going to see Claire. Sure enough, before long, Andrew came back putting on a caring act, bringing me a glass of milk. His attitude seemed sincere, but there was a lipstick stain at the corner of his mouth that he hadn’t wiped clean. It was Claire’s favorite shade. Andrew said, “Raelynn, have some milk. You haven’t seemed yourself these past couple days. Is something bothering you?” As I brought the glass to my lips, I paused slightly. I suddenly remembered that every time I drank something Andrew brought me, I’d sleep unusually deeply. And that night when I caught them together—I’d only had a couple sips of what he brought because my stomach was upset, then put it down. Could there be something wrong with what he was giving me? A cold sweat broke out across my body. Looking at Andrew’s smile again, I found it strangely sinister and cold. Not knowing what I was thinking, he just smiled and urged, “What’s wrong? Baby, do you need me to feed it to you?” “Go ahead and drink up. Get some good rest afterward. We’re heading back tomorrow, so you need to be well-rested.” I shook my head. “I don’t want it right now. Just leave it there.” Andrew’s expression immediately became unnatural, but he couldn’t very well force me. After hesitating for a long time, he had to compromise: “Alright. Just remember to drink it later.” Andrew gave me a few more reminders. Seeing that I really wasn’t going to cooperate, he finally left the room. After he left, I immediately poured the milk down the sink, then crawled under the covers and pretended to be asleep. Sure enough, after what felt like forever, Andrew finally came back to check on me. Claire was following behind him. Seeing that I was “asleep,” they both relaxed, and their behavior became bolder. After some rustling sounds of clothes, I heard the sounds of them having sex. They were shameless enough to do this in my room! Claire said, “You bad boy! Right next to her, you dare to sleep with me. Aren’t you afraid she’ll find out?” Andrew replied, “What are you worried about? I put in more of the drug today. Look, she’s sleeping soundly. She dared to upset my baby, so she has to pay the price.” Claire laughed, “You’re so good to me. Raelynn’s been in such a bad mood these past couple days, actually daring to ignore me. She’s not even bringing me gifts anymore. You don’t think she’s figured something out, do you?” “How could she?” Andrew kissed Claire’s lips, reassuring her. “I’ve handled everything perfectly—didn’t leave any evidence.” “Besides, you and I fight every day, so there’s no way she’d suspect us. Once we get back, we can play some more exciting games.” Andrew’s last words were drowned out by the sounds of him and Claire kissing. I felt nauseated, my palms bearing deep marks from my fingernails. I was indeed heartbroken by Andrew’s betrayal, but what I found even harder to accept was how much Claire seemed to be enjoying this. Claire came from a poor family. When we started freshman year, she was mocked and bullied by some troublemakers in our class because of her heavy accent, and they even stole the scholarship she’d applied for. I couldn’t stand watching it, so I took her all the way to the administration office to get the leadership to help resolve the situation. Later, because I was constantly coming and going at odd hours, I was worried about disturbing my roommates’ sleep, so I moved out of the dorm. When Claire heard about this, she said she wanted to move out with me too, but she didn’t have the money. So I just had her cover utilities while I took care of the rent and other expenses. That’s how we ended up living in the same place and gradually became best friends. I’d share half of whatever good things I had with her, and I’d often buy her things she liked. We once got drunk together and promised to be best friends for life. But how did we end up like this?

I don’t know how I made it through that day. From then on, it felt like something inside me had been ripped out by the roots, leaving nothing behind. On the way back, I sat in the passenger seat. Unlike before, I deliberately acted intimate with Andrew. Fighting back the nausea in my stomach, I made sure to say suggestive things. At first, Andrew nervously stole glances at Claire’s expression through the rearview mirror. But after just a few words from me, his attention was completely drawn away, and he even started playing along with me. Men, especially cheating men, are all the same. You think his willingness to betray his morals for you means true love, but he’ll always be attracted to the next person who actively approaches him. Claire sat in the back seat, making a few snide remarks. On the surface, she was criticizing me, but every word was actually a threat to Andrew. She said, “Raelynn, get a grip, will you? You’re actually going to wear that kind of outfit and dance for him? Does he deserve it? Andrew, I’m warning you, don’t you dare go along with this. Raelynn is precious, and if you dare to look, I’ll gouge your eyes out!” Andrew snorted coldly, “She’s my girlfriend. If I want to look, I’ll look. I can even hold her in my arms while I watch. What’s it to you?” For once, Claire didn’t argue back. She probably couldn’t tell whether Andrew’s words were just an act or if he meant them. I leisurely admired the scenery outside the window. Their conflict needed to escalate further. Only when their contradictions intensified would they lose control of their emotions and make mistakes, allowing me to smoothly proceed with the next phase of my plan. I had Andrew drop Claire off at home first, then used the excuse of needing to pick up something from school to have him give me a ride. On the way, I casually mentioned that I’d be going back to my hometown in a couple of days. Andrew’s eyes filled with delight, though he tried to suppress the excitement in his voice. He asked, “Going back home? Why so suddenly? How long will you be gone?” I made up some random excuse: “My mom said there’s an issue with my passport information and wants me to come back to fix it. Probably three to five days. Too bad it coincides with your birthday – I won’t be able to celebrate with you.” Andrew thought for a moment, then waved his hand dismissively, “It’s fine, business comes first. I have a birthday every year.” I sneered inwardly. How considerate of him – he’d probably already planned what wine to drink with Claire on his birthday. I calmly exchanged “I’ll miss you” type pleasantries with Andrew. After getting home, Claire was still giving me the cold shoulder over what happened in the car. It wasn’t until she heard me packing that she poked her head out and asked, “You’re leaving?” I repeated the same story I’d told Andrew. After hearing it, she became excited too. She said, “Well, be safe on your trip. If that bastard Andrew makes you angry, just tell me and I’ll rush over to beat him up for you.” I smiled without responding. She wanted to help me beat him up? Knowing them, they’d probably end up in bed together after all that fighting.   That day, while Andrew and Claire were both in class, I dragged my suitcase and pretended to leave. But I took a detour at the community gate and went straight to Andrew’s rental apartment. Then I pulled out my phone and opened the live streaming platform. I wrote the stream title: [I want to secretly prepare a birthday surprise for my boyfriend to see his reaction. You guys have to help me keep it a secret, okay.] As soon as I started streaming, dozens of people joined. Most of them were classmates from our school. Comments immediately started flooding the live chat. [Wow! You’re so romantic!] [Did your boyfriend save the galaxy in his past life?] [I really want to see a man moved to tears!] I smiled sweetly at the camera. Then I said, “You guys need to keep it down, don’t give away my plan. I told my boyfriend I was going back home, but I’m actually trying to surprise him.” After that, I pointed the camera toward Andrew’s bedroom and pretended to prepare decorations for the surprise. Actually, I had already hidden my phone in a safe corner, waiting to watch their little show. Sure enough, they didn’t disappoint me. Before long, I heard the sound of the door lock turning. Then came the continuous sounds of a man and woman kissing, mixed with Claire’s voice that carried a hint of tears. She said, “You have to make this clear to me today. Do you love me or do you love Raelynn? Last time in the car, you actually said you wanted to hold her in your arms while watching? Are you going to abandon me?” Andrew said, “How could that be, baby? If I didn’t want you, why would I be so eager to see you? I heard you prepared a birthday surprise for me? Show me what it is.” Their entire conversation was captured on camera, and comments instantly flooded the live chat. [Isn’t that Claire’s voice? How is she at Andrew’s place?] [Wait. I remember Claire is Raelynn’s best friend. They have such a close relationship and go everywhere together. She’s actually doing this behind her best friend’s back?] However, some comments urged everyone to stay calm, saying it might not be what everyone was thinking. But the next second, Claire’s revealing clothes and their gradually embracing figures were captured crystal clear on camera. At that moment, the viewers went completely crazy. [Oh my God! Am I getting to watch this for free?] [Raelynn, is this setting up a surprise?] [This is totally catching them in the act!] The number of viewers multiplied, and some people even started posting screenshots on the campus social media platform. Of course, the “surprise” Claire and Andrew had for me didn’t stop there. They were so brazen that they even started plotting about my academic report again. Claire said, “Andrew, I regret this. I don’t want to share you with her anymore. That day in the car when I saw you two being so intimate, I was furious. Her academic report is almost finished, right? When she comes back, help me steal her academic report. Then we’ll both get recommended to the same school and continue being together. You can dump her ruthlessly!” Andrew was extremely excited, so he agreed to whatever Claire said. He said, “Okay. I’ll do whatever you say, baby. When the time comes, I’ll say she’s too busy and doesn’t have time for me. She’s so stupid, she’ll definitely think it’s her fault. Then I can take the opportunity to squeeze some money out of her.” Even though I had orchestrated all of this, hearing them plot against me so shamelessly still made my heart ache inexplicably. I had treated them sincerely, but I never expected I’d raised two ungrateful people. At this point, the live chat was filled with comments defending me. [These two are disgusting. Raelynn treats them so well, and this is how they repay her?] [Plus, I often see Andrew and Claire fighting. I had no idea they were all acting.] [Not only do they eat and drink at Raelynn’s expense, but they also want to steal her academic report. They’re shameless!] The constantly scrolling comments kept my stream’s popularity high. However, because the content was too explosive, my account was banned shortly after. But it didn’t matter. The most important part of the video had already been screen-recorded and was spreading widely among our classmates. I had achieved my goal. Several friends who usually got along well with me came to comfort me. I deliberately put on the act of a victim, crying as I told my story. For a moment, all public opinion was on my side.

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