Category: English

While filming a reality show, I made instant noodles for my sister. She immediately called me out, claiming I made it wrong. “Mom always puts two eggs in when she makes noodles,” she insisted. I stared at her. I have never in my life eaten instant noodles with eggs in them. Right there on set, we called our mother. Mom admitted it. “It’s just a small thing. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? You’re being so petty.” That day, a discussion thread quietly climbed the trending topics. The title: [Turns out hearts really are crooked; parents never love equally.] 1 When I called Mom, I was still convinced my sister, Bella, was remembering wrong. Growing up, we were poor. Instant noodles were a luxury, reserved only for birthdays. I remembered clearly: there were no eggs in the noodles. Bella wasn’t backing down. “There were! Mom always poached two eggs at the bottom of the bowl. You just forgot.” Since the show was live-streamed, the comments were buzzing, placing bets on who was right. The call connected quickly. Bella, always the fast talker, blurted out the situation immediately. Silence on the other end. Then, Mom admitted it. “Yes, I always put two eggs in for Bella.” Seeing Mom admit it, Bella looked triumphant. My heart sank to the bottom of an icy lake. I asked, “Then Mom, why did I never get any eggs growing up?” Mom’s tone was dismissive, even accusatory. “It’s just two eggs. Why are you so petty, holding a grudge against your sister over something so small?” I lowered my eyes and said nothing. I wasn’t grudging two eggs. I wanted to know why she had them, and I didn’t. Bella realized something was off and stopped smiling. On the phone, Mom was still laughing. “Anna, you’re not seriously mad about two eggs, are you? Fine, fine, stop fussing. Next time you come home, I’ll boil ten eggs just for you.” She attributed my silence to missing out on eggs. I knew if I argued further, Mom would dig in her heels and get angry, probably asking if I’d be happy only if my sister dropped dead. Often, I’m not trying to win an argument. I just want fairness. 2 We were still live, so I didn’t dare listen to what else Mom might say. I hung up. The viewer count spiked. [Anna’s mom totally missed the point. She doesn’t even think she did anything wrong.] [Kinda feel bad for Anna. Her parents don’t seem to treat her very well.] [If they actually cared, they wouldn’t have let Anna enter the entertainment industry at fifteen. Look at her sister, studying abroad since she was a kid.] [Hilarious. A bunch of maids feeling sorry for the princess.] [Here we go again. Everyone knows Anna has bad grades. She didn’t even finish high school.] More viewers meant more varied opinions. The production team quickly started moderating the comments and asked me if I wanted to control the narrative. “It’s fine. Any publicity is good publicity,” I said. I didn’t care if people cursed me out. The director looked at me with some hesitation and told me the plan for tomorrow. “The production team saw the traction on the ‘family trauma’ topic. We want to hold a roundtable discussion tomorrow about toxic families. Anna, can you participate?” I nodded. My background wasn’t a secret in the industry, but few knew the details. I was born in a poverty-stricken mountain region. It was so poor there wasn’t even a proper school. That’s why I never finished my mandatory education. Later, a photo of me went viral, and I stumbled into show business. My parents used the money I earned to send my sister abroad for school. They always said I was “sensible,” that I could earn money early so they didn’t have to worry about me. In reality, I wasn’t sensible by choice; I was forced to be. We were poor, so they went to the city to work. They said city life was expensive, so they had to leave me in the village. I never resented them for that. But later, when they had my sister, they kept her with them. I asked why. Didn’t they say it was too expensive in the city? Why could they take Bella? They said I was the older sister, I had to be understanding. Bella was young; she couldn’t be without Mom and Dad. They felt sorry for Bella being small. When haters mocked me for being uneducated, my parents desperately sent Bella to study abroad to get a good degree. I comforted myself over and over. I am the older sister. I need to be understanding. Mom and Dad don’t not love me; it’s just that when I was little, the conditions weren’t right. But today, hearing Bella say her noodles always had two eggs… The lie popped like a soap bubble. 3 At 1:30 PM, the livestream started on time. Bella arrived promptly. Several industry veterans were also participating. Bella was outgoing and knew how to charm the elders. Completely different from me. When I entered the industry, I was like a little mushroom growing in a dark corner. I couldn’t even speak standard Mandarin properly, let alone flatter people. “Juilliard? That’s impressive,” said Kyle, a famous music producer. “Anna, your sister is amazing.” I nodded with a smile. Bella was indeed amazing. Unlike me, she sparkled. [Juilliard? I just googled it. Number one music school in the world. Insane.] [More than that. Kyle tried to get in back in the day and failed. They only take geniuses among geniuses.] [Anna and her sister are opposites. One is an illiterate dropout, the other is an academic elite.] The chat quickly dug up details on Bella’s school. Bella tried to pull me into the conversation. I shook my head, not feeling like talking. The host arrived with the topic for the afternoon discussion. Theme: What is the best gift your parents ever gave you? Bella spoke first. She didn’t seem to care about anyone’s gaze, always confident. The kind of high-energy sunshine girl everyone loves. You could tell she grew up surrounded by love. I looked at her with envy. Bella talked for a long time. Most of it I knew, some I didn’t. She said: “All the family properties are in my name. Since I was born, they bought an insurance policy for me. Once I turn 25, I get $8,000 a month.” She smiled slyly, eyes twinkling. “Mom said, no matter how bad inflation gets, even when I’m eighty, I’ll still get the money they saved for me. I can tell everyone enviously watching, ‘This is the candy my mom and dad bought me.’” The chat flew by: [So jealous. Am I the only one finding out about this insurance now?] [Don’t be jealous. That policy costs like $30k a year. You have to pay from birth until 25.] [Aren’t Anna and Bella sisters? Didn’t she say her family was poor? How did her sister have this insurance since birth?] Some people on set who knew my background glanced at me, their looks ranging from curious to knowing. The host threw the question to me. “Anna and Bella are sisters. Did you know about this insurance?” They thought my “poor family” story was just a persona. They wanted to dig up dirt. I said, “Ah,” looking embarrassed. “I don’t think I have that insurance.” If I did, I wouldn’t have dropped out of school because of poverty. The atmosphere stiffened. The host changed the subject. “Anna, can you tell us what the best gift your parents gave you was?” “Probably… a silver bracelet.” I unconsciously twisted the bracelet on my wrist. I had worn it since my debut. It was my thirteenth birthday present. In middle school, silver bracelets were trendy. Most girls got them from their moms. They said wearing silver was good for your health. I wanted one too. So, I carefully asked Mom. Mom was still working out of town then. She was impatient. She said silver was expensive and told me to be sensible. But on my thirteenth birthday, I received a silver bracelet. I thought Mom was just tough on the outside but soft on the inside. Later, Mom let it slip. The bracelet appeared because… Bella wanted a silver bracelet, got one, wore it for a few days, and didn’t want it anymore. She thought it was tacky and ugly. So it ended up on my wrist. I was angry when I found out. Mom just laughed it off, telling me not to be so petty. The matter was dropped, and no one mentioned it again. I thought I had forgotten these things. I didn’t expect a few questions to bring it all back. Wounds I thought were healed were just hidden. They didn’t heal with time; they festered, red and swollen. Occasionally stinging, always uncomfortable. 5 The chat went silent after I spoke. It took a long time for new comments to appear. [That’s so unfair. The sister gets everything, and Anna only has a bracelet to talk about.] [You guys mock Anna for being uneducated, but she never got a good education. She dropped out.] [This hurts. Anna’s parents are so biased. They gave the sister the best conditions but left Anna behind.] A discussion quietly climbed the trending topics. Title: [Turns out hearts really are crooked; parents never love equally.] Viewer numbers surged. After me, it was Kyle. He thought for a moment, seemingly stumped. Apologetically, he said, “Sorry, I don’t think I have one.” Many people in the industry had unhappy childhoods. Kyle was a child star. His parents were in the industry. He was in the public eye very young. But in his teens, he got hated by the entire internet, so he quit. When he returned, he was a producer behind the scenes. Few knew what he went through those years. When discussing this topic, most avoided it. The chat viewers started sharing their best gifts. [I feel the best gift my parents gave me was being born a global citizen, letting me choose my nationality.] [For me, it was probably them sending me abroad instead of making me take the SATs.] [Must be nice. If not for you guys, I wouldn’t even know what a global citizen is. But I’m not doing bad, I have lots of love. My parents love me very much.] But most were silent. The host realized the roundtable was getting too depressing. He quickly introduced the next segment. We were led into separate small rooms. There were questions on the wall. “Do you think your parents loved you?” “If you had a time machine, what would you say to your younger self?” The director asked me to pick a few to answer. I looked at the questions. The director really knew how to twist the knife. All of them hit the heart. I was silent for a moment, then bared my heart to the public for the first time. “I think my parents… probably loved me.” They loved me, but not enough. Their love was mixed with other things. I remembered getting my first paycheck in the entertainment industry—$500. I kept $200 and sent the rest home. After receiving the money, Mom and Dad asked me: “Are you cold in Beijing? Are you eating well?” That was the first time I felt their concern. They finally remembered their eldest daughter. They often sent me food packages. Occasionally called to check on me. But I was always confused. I felt this might not be love. I said: “They love me, but they love my sister more.” “Their love for me is conditional. Their love for my sister is unconditional.” The chat was silent for a long time before scrolling again. [Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.] [That’s parental love for you. Not too much, not too little, just enough to trap you completely. Can’t cut them off, can’t forget the pain. Just stuck there, suffering.]

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The day the students got into a fight was the day I saw Liam again, ten years after he’d shattered my life. The boy who’d thrown the punch was wiping away tears, calling him “Dad.” Liam froze when he saw me, his face a mask of shock. It took him a long moment to remember his manners. “Ms. Rhodes,” he managed, his voice strained. “I’m so sorry for the trouble.” I kept my expression professionally placid, handling the apologies and the matter of compensation with detached efficiency. When everything was settled and the other parent had left, he lingered, hovering at the edge of my desk, words caught in his throat. “I remember you never wanted to be a teacher,” he said, his voice quiet. A faint smile touched my lips as I walked him to the office door. “People change. So do their plans.” Just like my feelings for him. A chapter I’d closed a long, long time ago. 1 The squabble between the children was a flash flood—it came fast, and it was over just as quickly. The two boys were already laughing as they ran out of the office, the other mother trailing behind them. Only Liam remained, standing there, his gaze fixed on me. It wasn’t exactly a burning stare, but it was far from calm. “Have you… have you been okay, all these years?” My smile didn’t waver. It was the same polite, impersonal smile I gave every parent. “The workload is heavy, but thankfully, the students are well-behaved for the most part.” I nodded towards the door. “Mr. Blackwood, you should talk with Leo when you get home. He admitted he was wrong this time, but if he hits another child, the next set of parents might not be so understanding.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. He abruptly changed the subject. “I mean, in all this time, have you ever…” “Dad!” A child’s voice echoed from the end of the hall. I instinctively took a step back. “Come on, let’s go home! Mom’s gonna be mad if we’re late!” The rest of his question died on his lips, swallowed back down. My smile remained perfectly in place. “Drive safe, Mr. Blackwood.” By the time I turned back to my desk, he was gone. Lena, the math teacher, bustled in, dropping a stack of papers on her own desk. “Leo Blackwood getting into another fight?” she asked casually. My pen paused over a worksheet. “Another?” “Oh, right, I forgot you just transferred here. You don’t know the legend of Leo. He’s the little hellion of the third-grade class.” She rolled her eyes. “Gets sent to the office almost every week. The weird thing is, he’s always sorry. Cries his eyes out, begs for punishment, says he’ll never do it again. And then, next week, rinse and repeat.” She sighed. “Makes you wonder what’s going on at home.” Frowning, I pulled up Leo Blackwood’s student file. Father: Liam Blackwood. Mother: Phoebe Shaw. “You know Nexus Innovations, the big tech firm downtown? That’s his dad’s company,” Lena chattered on. “And his mom owns that chic art gallery over on fifth. They’re the perfect power couple—a brilliant entrepreneur and a celebrated artist. You’d think they’d produce a prodigy, but instead, they got a little demon spawn.” Lena clicked her tongue and slid a form across my desk. “Oh, by the way, the principal noticed you only listed yourself under family contacts. He said you need to complete it.” I gave a soft “Mm,” my eyes still on the screen. “I grew up in a group home. I don’t have any other family.” “Oh.” Lena’s face fell. “Oh, I’m so sorry… I’ll just… I’ll take this back to him later.” She busied herself with her papers, though I could feel her stealing guilty glances at me. Finally, she mustered the courage to speak again. “It’s okay, Ms. Rhodes. Really. One day you’ll fall in love, get married… you’ll have a family of your own.” She even started showing me pictures of her single friends, offering to set me up. I shook my head, thanking her for her kindness. “I was in love, once. A long time ago. I almost had a family.” “What happened?” I just smiled, saying nothing more. What happened was he built a family with someone else, and I was left alone all over again. Lena’s face soured with disgust. “Let me guess, you ran into a real piece of work. Where’d you find him, in a dumpster? The city sewer?” Her bluntness made me laugh, my gaze drifting back to the file on my screen, to the name under the “Father” category. The sound of children shouting on the playground faded into a distant hum, and suddenly, I was back in my freshman year of high school. The first time I met Liam, it was also because of a fight. I’d punched a classmate for calling me an orphan. He’d beaten up the gym captain for calling him a jinx. Two stubborn kids, refusing to apologize, with no parents to call. We were made to stand together by the flagpole, a public spectacle for the entire school to see. As the principal’s lecture droned on, Liam noticed the cotton stuffed in my nose and the cut on my index finger, still oozing blood from a piece of shattered glass. His dark eyes narrowed. “You lost?” I bit my lip. “I skipped breakfast. Wasn’t at my best. Next time, I’ll make him beg for mercy.” He paused for a beat, then said with an air of casual confidence, “Next time you get into a fight, find me first. I’ll make sure you win.” Lena leaned forward, her hand propping up her chin. “So you fought because of some jerk classmate. Why was he fighting?” I rubbed the faint scar on my index finger, my eyes moving from the word “Father” down to the next of kin listed in his old school files. Grandmother. “His father died when he was young. His grandparents passed away in elementary school, and his mother got sick in middle school. His tuition was paid for by handouts from relatives and neighbors.” “Everyone at school said he was cursed. A jinx.” Lena’s jaw dropped. After a long moment, she let out a heavy sigh. “A pair of lost souls.” I pressed my lips together. The truth was, after we both got into a top university, our pair of lost souls became a trio. My best friend, whom I hadn’t seen in years, ended up at the same school. She came running toward me, giddy with excitement, and accidentally crashed right into Liam. The milk tea he’d made for me splashed all over both of them. Worried their first impression would be ruined, I rushed to introduce them. “This is my boyfriend, Liam.” “Liam, this is my best, best friend from the group home, Phoebe.” 2 My relationship with Liam was hardly what you’d call romantic. In high school, we spent our days in class and our nights skipping study hall to hand out flyers, just to earn enough for the next day’s meals. After our shift, we’d huddle together in the hallway outside his mom’s hospital room, using the dim corridor light to tutor each other. My literature was strong, my math was weak; he was the exact opposite. To keep from disturbing the patients, we wrote everything down on scraps of paper. We filled five whole notebooks over three years, and our final exam scores were identical. The day the results came out, his mom was too anxious to eat. I was trying to feed her some porridge when she gripped my hand, her eyes red-rimmed. “Renee, honey… if you and Liam don’t get into the same university, will you still come visit me?” Her voice was thick with emotion. “It’s okay if you fall for another boy later… but please, will you come back and be my daughter? Renee, I just can’t bear to lose you.” Liam walked in with a basket of clean laundry to find us both sobbing in each other’s arms. He looked utterly helpless. “We can do long distance if we have to,” he said, trying to soothe us. “And we’ll get married the second we graduate.” “After all,” he added, his voice full of certainty, “we’re meant to be together forever.” When we started college, I moved out of the group home, and his mom was discharged from the hospital. He couldn’t bear to accept any more charity from relatives, so we both took out student loans. University life gave us more time to work. I took two jobs; he took three. We were in different departments, so the only time we really had together was the short walk back to our dorms after our shifts, leaning against each other, dreaming about the future. We made a pact: we’d get the coveted, fully-funded study abroad spots in our junior year, then head to the States together. After that, marriage. That bright, hopeful future fueled us. We studied harder, worked longer, and saved every penny. But just as we’d saved enough, fate decided to play a cruel joke. Liam’s mom got worse. She was admitted to the ICU. Every dollar we had saved vanished into a black hole of medical bills. We borrowed more, but it was never enough. Her condition was volatile, and he spent every waking moment camped outside the ICU, unable to leave. I skipped all my classes, working from dawn until deep into the night on only three hours of sleep, wiring him every cent I earned. During that time, we never spoke of the future. Our texts were a grim exchange of hospital notices and my transaction receipts. The future was a distant luxury; just getting through the day was a battle. But thankfully, just before the application deadline for the study abroad program, his mother’s condition stabilized. The suffocating tension of the past six months finally broke. He rushed back from the hospital, I quit two of my jobs, and we threw ourselves into a frantic marathon of studying, desperate to catch up and ace the final exams for the program. The results were posted. Once again, our scores were identical. But we had missed an entire semester of classes. Our attendance grades were zero. He appealed, explaining he was caring for his sick mother. I didn’t need to appeal; every professor knew I’d been working to make ends meet. Filial piety trumped poverty. I lost. My spot was revoked and given to the student with the third-highest score. Liam was furious. He stormed the dean’s office, ready to confess that all my work, all my sacrifices, had been for him. But it was too late. The decision was final. His fists were clenched at his sides. “If you’re not going, then I’m not going either,” he declared. But this was his dream. He’d always wanted to study business in America, to come back and build a company, to give his mom and me a better life. I fought back the tears, my voice sharp as I grabbed his hand. “If you dare turn this down, Liam, I’m breaking up with you.” He broke down, sobbing, pulling me into a crushing hug and swearing a desperate oath. “Renee, wait for me. I swear I’ll come back for you. I’ll come back and marry you, and I’ll give you a home.” His voice was ragged. “If I ever let you down, may I be torn to pieces!” Listening to my story, Lena was already a mess, sniffling uncontrollably. “You two went through so much,” she choked out. “It’s just… it’s too cruel.” “So why didn’t you get married? Did something happen to him in the States? An accident?” I shook my head, my face calm. “He fell in love with someone else.” Lena’s sobbing stopped abruptly. She wiped her eyes and her hand curled into a fist, her expression turning to pure fury. “Then he would have been better off dead.” I suppose life just isn’t fair. Every time I thought I was about to have a family, the world would throw another obstacle in my path. The day the study abroad list was posted, the girl with the third-highest score was cheering in front of the announcement board. She turned, and our eyes met. “Renee!” “Phoebe?” I was still reeling when she threw her arms around me in an excited hug. She’d accidentally bumped into Liam, who was holding the milk tea he’d made to comfort me. And just like that, the only two students from our entire university going abroad that year had found each other. 3 Phoebe and I both grew up in the same group home. I was a few months older, so I naturally fell into the role of her protector. I’d give her the first bite of any food I managed to snatch, let her have first pick of the donated clothes, and when the opportunity for a real education came, I made sure she got into the better art school. So when I found out they were going to be in the States together, she puffed out her chest and promised me, “Don’t you worry, Renee. I’ll keep a close eye on Liam for you. I won’t let any other woman get near him!” At that moment, all I could think was: at least Liam won’t be alone. He’ll have a friend. After they left, my life reverted to the frantic pace it had been before the exams. His mom and I needed to live, to pay rent, to buy her medication. The only way was to work relentlessly, catching sleep whenever I could in the back of a lecture hall. Lena frowned again. “But that’s his mom. Why were you the one doing everything—caring for her, paying for her medicine, working yourself to the bone to support them?” she demanded. “What was he doing in America, just living it up? Did he not work? Did he not send you a single penny?” I closed my eyes for a second, then opened them and gave a slight nod. In the beginning, he called me every day, complaining about how expensive everything was, how he couldn’t find a job, how he was barely eating. Phoebe would get on the phone too, whining about how different it was from home, how even our days in the group home were better than this. My heart ached for them. I scraped together what little I had left and wired it to them, just so they could eat. Then the calls became less frequent. After six months, they stopped altogether. They’d still accept the money transfers, but they never replied. Just then, Lena’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the time, quickly packed her things, and clocked out for the day. I took one last look at Leo Blackwood’s file before getting up to head home. In the shower, I pulled off the silk scarf I always wore. The ugly, jagged scar on my neck was stark against my skin. A gift from Liam. Ten years ago, that spring, I couldn’t reach him. Phoebe wasn’t answering either. Panicked, I scraped together my last few dollars, bought the cheapest red-eye flight I could find, and went to him. I found them under a maple tree, locked in a passionate kiss. When they finally broke apart, he gently tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. They looked at each other and smiled, their eyes shimmering with a light I knew all too well. A soft breeze rustled the leaves. The warm glow of a streetlamp bathed them in golden light. They looked like a painting, like a line from a gentle poem. Something inside me snapped. I lunged forward, tearing them apart. The mug I was clutching—I threw it at his face. But as I spun to slap Phoebe, he threw it back. It hit the side of my head. Scalding hot water splashed out, cascading down my neck. I’d forgotten. The lid had been broken since the day they first met. It never sealed properly. I never had the money to buy a new one. The searing pain was unbearable, but Liam didn’t seem to see it. He pulled Phoebe behind him, shielding her, his eyes cold as ice as he stared at me. “Renee, if you’re going to hate someone, hate me. Phoebe has done nothing to you.” Hate. Oh, I hated. Ignoring the blistering burn, I screamed at them, my voice cracking with tears, demanding to know why they had betrayed me. Phoebe was crying too. At first, it was just quiet sobs. But as a crowd started to form, her voice rose to a fever pitch. “Renee, you don’t understand how hard it’s been for us here! You’re safe back home, but we only had each other to lean on! Us getting together… it was inevitable!” I refused to accept that. “You think my life back home has been a picnic? You had each other! Who did I have? I had no one!” Liam stepped between us, keeping me at bay, his body a protective wall in front of her. His eyes were downcast, his expression chillingly remote. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.” “But Phoebe isn’t lying,” he continued, his voice low and steady. “We’ve been through a lot together this past year. We didn’t tell you because we didn’t want you to worry.” A cold wave washed over me. I stared at him, forcing out each word. “A lot in one year, Liam? So the seven years we spent together, everything we went through… that just counts for nothing?” “Do you have any idea that right before I got on that plane, your mother was talking about you? Worried sick that something had happened?” My voice rose, hysterical. “You haven’t called her once in six months! You just took the money I sent and started a new life with my best friend!” His head snapped up. His lips were a thin, hard line, his eyes black holes of shame. I knew that look. He’d carried the weight of poverty his whole life, and money was his deepest insecurity. For years, every time he saw the relatives who’d loaned him money, he would shrink into himself, making himself small. And now, he had to face the fact that for years, he and his mother had been living on my charity. “Renee, I took your money. I owe you,” he said, his voice flat. “What do you want as repayment? Is my life enough?” Before I could process his words, he pulled a small folding knife from his backpack. Without a moment’s hesitation, he plunged it into his own stomach.

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My fiancé, Julian, loves snakes. As his fiancée, I was terrified of them. Every time I cried, he’d sneer, “Stop faking it.” I tried so hard to overcome my fear. Until one day, a girl appeared who wasn’t afraid of snakes. She wandered in and out of his room, playing with his little pet snake. Finally, I gave up. I was packing my bags to call off the engagement when suddenly, a stream of comments scrolled across my vision like a livestream chat: [Yes! Run, girl! Don’t let that bad snake wrap around you!] [Hahaha, the male lead is gonna lose his mind. It’s been ten years and she’s still scared of snakes. Wait till she sees him shedding!] [Am I the only one who wants to see the good girl get pinned against the wall by the out-of-control male lead until her eyes lose focus?] I shuddered in fear. When I turned around, Julian closed the door behind him and asked coldly: “Packing your bags? Planning to run?” 1 I didn’t get it. I woke up early, packed quietly, and even closed the door. So why did Julian’s snake still slither in? “Don’t… don’t come over here.” I shrank into the corner. The little black snake stopped at the door, flicking its tongue. Hiss. For some reason, I felt like it was staring at my suitcase on the floor. And it looked pissed. I made a “shoo” gesture at it. “Just stay there. Don’t come closer. Don’t move, okay?” The snake stopped moving. It just stared at me with eyes like tiny black grapes. I let out a sigh of relief and continued packing as quietly as I could. “Where are you going so early?” The door creaked open. Julian leaned against the frame, looking down at me, enunciating every word: “Fi-an-cée.” I jumped like a startled rabbit, stammering, “Going… going on a trip. Just for fun.” “With whom?” “A friend. You don’t know them.” He narrowed his eyes. Slowly walking towards me. I instinctively stepped back. He scoffed, annoyed. “Scared of snakes, fine. But scared of me too?” Actually, I wasn’t scared of him. But the girl who had been frequenting his greenhouse lately… She made me feel like a clown. I turned my head away, biting my lip, silent. “Fine.” Julian suddenly crouched down and picked up the little black snake. The snake wrapped obediently around his wrist, lifting its head and hissing. He stared at me tightly. “Touch it.” I looked terrified. The air around Julian seemed to drop a few degrees. He repeated, “Touch it. Take care of it for one night. If you do, I’ll let you go.” Despite his bad temper, Julian was a man of his word. So I gathered my courage and reached out. The snake stretched its head towards me. My hand trembled, and it slithered right on. “Ah—” I yelped. The little black snake greedily wrapped around my wrist, its tail rubbing back and forth. “Mmph.” Simultaneously, Julian let out a muffled groan. His expression was ugly, but a strange blush rose on his cheeks. I looked at him in confusion. Julian snapped, angry out of embarrassment: “Get out. Give it back to me tomorrow.” 2 After Julian left, the snake and I stared at each other. Besides constantly rubbing its tail against me, it was pretty well-behaved. “Why do you keep rubbing me…” I muttered to myself. The snake kept staring. Just then, a line of text appeared out of nowhere in front of my eyes: [Because he wants to mark you.] ??? Mark me? Like a dog peeing on a tree? Then, another line popped up: [Girl, try touching the spot where it’s rubbing you. You’ll get a surprise.] What is this? I didn’t get it, but curiosity got the better of me. I rubbed the spot on the snake with my fingertip. Meanwhile— In Julian’s room. “Nngh…” In the darkened room with curtains drawn tight, he sat on the carpet leaning against the bed. His shirt was open, and his pants seemed… complicated. “F*ck.” His face was flushed deep red. His breathing grew heavy. “I thought you were scared of snakes?” “Where the hell are you touching?” Touching is one thing. But she wasn’t even touching enough to satisfy him. 3 The snake’s tail wagged faster. Its tongue flicked rapidly. I got scared and waved my hand, accidentally flinging it onto the floor. [Hahahahahahahahahaha—] [I’m dying. The male lead is so pitiful. Is he gonna get ED?] [Our girl is too cute. She thinks she’s punishing him, but it’s actually a reward.] A barrage of subtitles appeared before my eyes. They all seemed to mean the same thing. Who is this “he”? The snake? The snake slithered up from the floor, its black eyes staring at me for a few seconds like it wanted to eat me. Then it flicked its tail and crawled to the other side of the room, far away from me. Like it was mad. Worried I might have broken it, I decided to ask Julian for a glass tank for it to sleep in. Knock knock knock— I knocked on his door. The door was unusually closed, and no one answered. Weird. Julian never closed his door. He even left it a crack open. Every time I walked by, I’d accidentally see him changing, and he’d scoff and call me a “pervert” or “shameless.” [Scheming man. Always peacocking to seduce our girl.] [Girl, don’t be fooled! I’m telling you, he’s dangerous right now. Push the door open!] [Yes, yes! The male lead is suffering right now, you need to go help him.] Dangerous? Suffering? Does he need my help? I was torn. 4 “What do you want?” The door opened. Julian looked impatient. “Knocking like that, do you want to die?” I suddenly regretted trusting the floating text. But he really did look… abnormal. Clothes messy, face red. To be blunt, he looked like he’d just been thoroughly ravished. “What were you doing in there?” I leaned forward, trying to peek inside. Julian blocked me, anxious. “None of your business!” “There’s a weird smell,” I sniffed. “Did your snake mate in there?” “Chloe!” See, anxious again. I frowned. “Did you do something bad? Why are you panicking?” [Girl, stop asking, he’s gonna explode.] [Let’s go, let’s go. I’m afraid he’ll lose control and eat our girl.] [LMAO, every sentence is a bullseye. The scheming man can’t hide it anymore.] Can’t hide it? I suddenly understood. My face fell. I looked at Julian and said, “Bianca is in there, isn’t she?” He froze. I turned my head away, continuing, “You did bad things with her, and you didn’t even hide it from me. What am I to you?” Julian was still frozen. Reacting, he tried to close the door. “No, you…” “Scumbag!” I slammed the door in his face for him. Cursed him out and left. Back in my room. I sat against the door, hugging my knees, burying my head. I couldn’t see the comments above me. [Oh no, oh no, she misunderstood.] [Good! Let her misunderstand so she can leave cleanly.] [Yeah, let them misunderstand. The male lead has a toxic mouth anyway, why give him a wife?] […Am I the only one who wants to see the male lead force himself on her? She tries to leave, he just takes her… hehe.] [Agreed with above.] I sniffled. Looking up, I only saw the last comment: [So what? With Bianca the side chick around, our girl will always be wronged. If the scheming man doesn’t fix it, he can get lost.] Right. Julian and I were betrothed since we were kids. He loved snakes. I feared them. Every time he held a snake, I ran away crying, and he mocked me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t overcome it. Until I saw Bianca for the first time. In Julian’s snake greenhouse. The girl wore a white dress, the snake wrapped gently around her. She smiled, and Julian watched her with gentle eyes. That’s when I understood. I’m afraid of snakes. But there are plenty of girls in the world who aren’t.

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A new noodle shop opened downstairs in my apartment complex. Not only was the food delicious and affordable, but the owner had a drop-dead gorgeous son who made every meal taste better. Naturally, I became a regular from day one. I ate there every day for three months straight. Then my cousin opened a new restaurant right across the street and insisted I come to support him. I had just sat down when someone walked out of the noodle shop opposite. He stared at me with dark, brooding eyes: “What, does his place let customers touch their abs too?” 1 My cousin has had a girlfriend for years. Just as they were preparing to get engaged, they had a fight, and she refused to talk to him. Coincidentally, she lives in the same apartment complex as me. To win her back, he thought long and hard and decided to open a noodle shop downstairs to create more “accidental encounters.” I figured it was just some weird couple’s game. And since it was the grand opening, as his cousin, I had to show my support. What I didn’t expect was— His shop was directly across the street from my regular spot. So when I walked into my cousin’s place, I felt inexplicably guilty. I mean, I hadn’t missed a single meal at the other place for three months. The owner even gave me free side dishes and perks. We had a bond. Eating somewhere else felt like cheating. But I brushed it off. I walked into my cousin’s shop, triggered the automated “Welcome!” greeting, and saw my cousin rushing out of the kitchen, soaked to the bone. It was hot out, and he was only wearing a thin white T-shirt. Wet, the shirt clung to his skin, becoming translucent and revealing the outline of his abs. Seeing me, he immediately waved me over. “A pipe burst in the back, soaked me. The plumber just fixed it. Since you’re here, I’ll make you a bowl, then I’m heading to your place to change.” He disappeared back into the kitchen without waiting for a reply. We grew up together, so he knows my tastes perfectly. No need to order; he knows what I want. I sat at the table waiting, chin in hand, habitually looking across the street. Wonder if he’s there today. Suddenly, a shadow fell over me, and a tall figure walked into the shop. “Chase? What are you doing here?” seeing him, guilt spiked in my chest. Getting caught eating elsewhere after months of loyalty was awkward. His expression was calm, his dark eyes fixed on me. “My dad said you were late today. He was worried something happened, so he sent me to wait for you.” He paused, frowning slightly as if recalling something unpleasant. “Then I saw you sneaking around like a thief, darting into this new place without even looking back at me.” He scanned my cousin’s shop with disdain. “When this place was being renovated, my dad talked to the owner. Heard he’s a fresh grad, athletic build.” I nodded. My cousin was a fresh grad and a sports major, so yeah, good build. But… isn’t his focus a bit off? Is his lukewarm attitude towards me because… he doesn’t like women? Despair washed over me. But before I could speak, Chase’s cold demeanor vanished. He looked at me with haunting eyes. “What, does his place let customers touch their abs too?” 2 Chase. The son of the noodle shop owner next door. Incredibly handsome. But cold. Even after knowing him for three months, I’d barely seen him smile. And he barely spoke. Most of the time, I’d eat my noodles while throwing cheesy pick-up lines at him. He usually stayed silent. Occasionally, he’d sit opposite me and ask how to make me shut up because I was too noisy. In this regard, my cousin and I are alike. We have the “simp” gene. So I grinned and said, “Tell me your name first.” Initially, I just wanted his name. Then, his height, weight, hobbies, and most importantly, relationship status. Finding out he was single made me ecstatic. I unleashed a basket of pick-up lines. He still ignored me, which was frustrating. I almost gave up. As for the abs incident… Total accident. One day, I was eating lunch at his place when a flasher walked in wearing only boxers. He came straight for me. Before I could react, he grabbed my hand and tried to put it on his belly. A huge, beer-gut belly. Sweaty and gross. He leered, pressing my hand down. “Never felt a real man? Let me show you…” Then, Chase punched him. I got in a couple of kicks too. The owner called the cops, handed over the pervert, and Chase took me to wash my hands. I scrubbed my hands with soap, disgusted. “So gross. Do I need to cut this hand off?” Tears were welling up. Chase, who had been silent, suddenly grabbed my wrist. He lifted his shirt and pressed my hand onto his abs. “Still feel gross?” he asked. I shook my head frantically. How to describe it? Hard yet soft. Bouncy. Powerful. In that moment, I forgot the trauma and tremblingly extended my left hand. Holding back drool, I looked at Chase with hope. “He touched this hand too.” Chase told me to leave before he hit me. I offered my cheek: “Just hit me gently.” His look of horror deepened. I kept going back. Maybe out of guilt, the owner gave me extra portions and made Chase sit with me for protection. Eating noodles while admiring eye candy was great. I gained three pounds in a week. I asked if my hand was fully purified yet, requesting another touch. Chase smiled without humor: “Sure, help yourself.” How could I? Hehe… I put my hand on his abs and squeezed. He frowned, looking away. But he didn’t push me away. It became a tacit agreement. I tested boundaries, and he occasionally allowed it. Usually twice a week. Just a little treat. So hearing Chase’s question gave me an idea. I know my cousin’s girlfriend. Cute, lively. And like me, she appreciates male beauty. But since she has a boyfriend, she only looks. So if my cousin wants to win her back… Seduction is the key, right? But my cousin is simple. Good, kind, but dense. He probably never thought of using his body to win her over. As his cousin, I have to teach him. Seeing my silence, Chase frowned. “Hard to answer?” I shook my head frantically. “No, no, I’m not that kind of person…” Before I could finish, my cousin walked out with a steaming bowl of noodles. His shirt was soaked, and the kitchen was hot. So he took it off. He was shirtless in just shorts. You know how it is. World’s unfair. Fat guy shirtless? Put a shirt on! Hot guy with an eight-pack? Thank you, universe, for the meal and the show! But I didn’t think that. He’s my cousin. He’s taken. He needs to have morals. So I said, “Put a shirt on! Don’t let people see.” He put the bowl down, wiped sweat from his forehead, and grinned like an idiot. “It’s fine, I won’t show anyone else.” He pointed to a red spot on his abs where oil had splashed him. “I do need a shirt, though. Oil burns hurt.” I handed him a tissue. Then I heard a ghostly voice from behind: “You really care about him, huh?” I nodded without thinking. Of course. We grew up together. I’m a good cousin. “By the way, Chase…” I turned to introduce my cousin. But Chase was already walking away, face cold as ice. I didn’t think much of it. He was always cold to me at his shop, walking away when I talked too much. Watching him leave, my cousin looked thoughtful. “Sis, don’t tell me that’s the high-and-mighty god you’ve been simping for for three months?” I cupped my chin, starry-eyed. “You don’t get it. He’s top tier.” Face: top tier. Abs: top tier. I wonder if… Other parts are top tier too. I’m so curious. 3 I finished eating and planned to head home. My cousin’s shop didn’t have a shower. Going home and back would take two hours, so he asked to shower at my place. “I’m looking for an apartment in this complex too.” He blushed. “Thinking about living in the same complex as Babe makes me shy.” I rolled my eyes. They’ve been dating for years, met the parents, planned to marry. She suggested living together. He refused because he was “shy.” She was embarrassed and never brought it up again. Hence the rocky road to reconciliation. Because he avoids the right choices like the plague. I left the shop. My cousin had to do dishes and close up, so he’d be ten minutes behind. As soon as I stepped out, I saw Chase standing in front of his shop. He walked straight to me. “You usually take an hour to eat. Today took two.” “Had a good chat?” I nodded. “Yeah, pretty good. Didn’t notice the time.” My cousin had been spilling family tea. I love gossip almost as much as I love hot guys. My aunt and uncle are professional gossips, so my cousin knows everything. He told me stories while I ate. The tea was piping hot, so dinner lasted two hours. Seeing me nod, Chase pursed his lips, looking unhappy. Standard expression. “So you’re going back tonight?” I nodded again. I hadn’t finished hearing the gossip. My cousin left a cliffhanger to ensure I’d return. Chase’s face got colder. I assumed he was worried about losing a customer. “Don’t worry! Uncle’s noodles are delicious and cheap. Still my top choice. Going across the street is just for something fresh…” “Fresh?” Chase interrupted, a weird smile on his face. “The noodles? Or the person?” I didn’t get it. Before I could ask, he said, “Are his abs nice to touch?” “They’re okay.” We fought a lot as kids. I scratched him a few times. Felt decent. But I remembered I was chasing Chase. “Don’t worry! His abs aren’t as good as yours!” Chase smirked. “Thanks for the comparison.” “Of course!” I patted my chest, glanced at my apartment building, and tested the waters. “Business is slow today, your dad can handle it. Want to come to my place and watch a movie? I found a great horror flick.” I love horror movies. Friends scream watching them with me. If I watch with Chase, he’ll get scared and jump into my arms. Then… hehehe. “Wipe your drool.” Chase interrupted my fantasy. I blinked at him. “Really not coming? It’s really good.” “No.” He turned and walked back into his shop without hesitation. Meanwhile, my idiot cousin had closed up and was running toward me. “Horror movie? Let’s go! I’ll keep you company. Just gotta shower first…” Chase stopped dead in his tracks. 4 I didn’t notice. I nodded at my cousin. “Sure. I have snacks and beer.” Chase spun around and marched back. Lips tight, face cold. “You’re watching a horror movie with him? And drinking?” My little habit. Horror movies need beer. It’s cozy. “Yeah. Problem?” I felt the temperature drop around Chase. “Whatever,” he said, and walked away fast. I wanted to chase him, but didn’t want to be clingy. Internet advice: Push and pull. So I took my cousin upstairs. He went to shower in the guest bath. I prepped snacks and beer and picked a movie. Doorbell rang. I opened it to see Chase holding a takeout container. “My dad’s new recipe. Said you’re a loyal customer, have to try it first.” He looked reluctant. “I didn’t want to come. He made me.” My Uncle Jing is great. Always giving me free food. I took the noodles happily. “Want to watch the movie?” Expected rejection. He turned to leave, then looked back. “I hear water running.” “Justin’s showering.” I pointed to the bathroom. Chase frowned deeply. “Lena, are you sure about this?” About what? I was confused. Chase closed his eyes, took a breath, and said slowly, “You’re really watching a horror movie with him?” “Well, you won’t join me.” I shrugged. Just then, my cousin walked out. White T-shirt. Boxer shorts. Relaxed. He walked to the living room, cracked a beer, and chugged. He looked at the door. “Hi. I know you. Chase, right?” “I know you too. Justin.” “Lena, hurry up, movie’s starting.” “Since you’re busy, I’m leaving.” Chase turned and left before I could speak. What a waste. If he stayed… Horror movie. Beer. Maybe… hehehe. “Wipe the drool.” My cousin interrupted my fantasy. Annoying. I threw a slipper at his head. “Ow! Still so violent, Lena!” Call me sister! “You live alone. How can you give your apartment number to a man? Aren’t you afraid?” I slumped on the sofa. “I wish.” I hinted so many times, he never came. I promised only movies, no touching, he didn’t believe me! Am I that untrustworthy? Ha. Maybe. My cousin looked terrified. Doorbell rang again. He scrambled to open it. “Chase? Again?” Chase stood there with another bowl of noodles. Sweating a little. “My dad…” “Another new recipe?” I finished his sentence. He nodded, handed me the noodles. Sweat dripped down his neck. “But I can’t eat two bowls.” My cousin grabbed it. “It’s fine, I’ll eat what you can’t. I don’t mind.” I felt a chill. Chase looked at me, then left without a word. We opened the noodles. Tasted the same, just one spicy, one mild. Doorbell rang again. We both went to the door. Chase. Third bowl. “This is my dad…” “Third new recipe?” Chase nodded. He handed it over. He was sweating profusely now. “Look, we can’t eat three bowls. Please, help us eat one and watch the movie?” I expected rejection. He thought for a second, then walked in. “Fine. I don’t want my dad’s hard work wasted.” He agreed! Suddenly, Justin looked very superfluous.

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The day my dad brought his real daughter home, the whole family heard her thoughts: 【In my last life, Mom and Dad were all tricked and killed by Nora’s schemes. This time, I have to save this family!】 I glanced at my wall, covered in martial arts awards, then at her, a girl who looked like a strong breeze could knock her over. Me, the national kickboxing champion, the MMA golden belt holder, the MVP of the professional fighting league. When would I even have the time to scheme against someone? Schemes? Please. I could kill a man with one punch. 1. The day my father brought Yena Howard to our door, I was in our home gym, dripping sweat in a sports bra and shorts. The girl in the mirror had lean, powerful muscle lines and healthy, sun-kissed skin. I’d just set down a dumbbell when I heard a muffled sob from downstairs. I went down to find a girl sitting between my parents on the sofa. She was a vision in white, her long, dark hair falling straight over her fragile shoulders. She was carefully cradling a cup of tea my mother had handed her. Her posture, her aura—she was the spitting image of my mother, Eleanor Wilde, twenty years younger. “Nora, you’re here.” My mother looked up, her gaze flickering with a complex emotion. “This is Yena. Your father brought her home. She says… she’s our biological daughter. The nurse was busy and mixed up the bracelets, so both families took home the wrong baby. Your biological parents… they passed away in a car accident a few years ago.” I raised an eyebrow, but before I could speak, a clear, delicate voice drilled into my head. 【I’m seeing Nora again. She’s the one who destroyed our family. Sniffle… it was all my fault. Mom and Dad spoiled me so much to make up for my lost years that Nora got jealous. She colluded with some lowlife to bankrupt the company, and in the end, Mom and Dad jumped from a building together. I have to change everything this time. Come on, Yena, you can do it!】 My head whipped toward Yena. What was she talking about? Me, destroy my family? She was still looking down, demurely sipping her tea. Her lips hadn’t moved. At the same time, I saw my brother, Leo, coming down the stairs. He froze on the landing, his shock undisguised as his eyes darted between Yena and me. My parents were staring at the girl with wide, stunned eyes. I got it instantly. We could all hear her. A small smirk played on my lips. Life really was stranger than fiction. “Oh?” I flopped onto the armchair opposite them, my posture relaxed. “Proof?” Yena looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. She glanced at me, then at my mother, her voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz. “I… I have the DNA report…” She pulled a file from a worn, faded bag at her side. My father’s voice was grim. “We checked it. The report is authentic. We even ran a new test with your mother’s blood sample, just in case. It confirms Yena is our daughter.” My mother took the report, her eyes scanning it quickly. Her own eyes reddened, and she pulled Yena into a fierce hug. “My daughter! You’ve suffered so much!” Leo walked over, giving me a complicated look before his gaze settled on Yena. His usual lazy, joking demeanor was gone, replaced by a gentle tone. “Don’t be afraid. You’re home now.” 【That’s my brother… he looks so young. I haven’t seen him in so long… He’s looking at me so gently. He had such a tragic end in my last life. Nora secretly drugged him and ruined his health. This time, I have to protect him!】 Leo stiffened, his head turning to look at my wall of trophies. Drugged him? She could probably kill three of him with one punch. Why would she need drugs? I was a little speechless myself, which made me seriously doubt the validity of her “reincarnated” thoughts. Initially, I’d felt a pang of guilt for Yena. While the switch wasn’t my fault, her worn clothes told me she hadn’t had an easy life. I was fully prepared to give everything back to her, even move out if she wanted. But the moment she arrived, she started slinging these baseless accusations from some supposed past life. It seemed this frail, innocent girl wasn’t as harmless as she looked. Eleanor’s gaze also fell on me. Besides her obsession with training, this child she had raised was outstanding in every way—academics, character, social graces. How could such a brilliant girl with such clear eyes be the same malicious person from Yena’s thoughts? It was impossible to believe. She hesitated, then said, “Nora, don’t you worry. We’ve raised you for twenty years, and this family can certainly afford to support two daughters. From now on, you and Yena are both our children.” “That’s right, sister.” Yena ran over and took my hand. 【Mom is too soft-hearted. But I have to try. Maybe I can change her this time around?】 My lip twitched. “You know,” I began, “I think you should know that we can hear your—” Before I could finish, my parents and Leo looked at me in horror as my vision went black, and I collapsed. 2. I woke up in my own bed. Leo was sitting by my side, and the moment I opened my eyes, he handed me a glass of warm water. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “Mom and I tried to test it. Every time we mention her inner voice in front of her, something weird happens and we get cut off. I don’t know what her deal is. Nora, we know you’re not that kind of person, and don’t even get me started on the ‘lowlife’ part.” He paused, glancing at me carefully. “Honestly, in all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you give any guy the time of day.” Well, I guess my complete lack of a love life was my alibi. “Leo,” I said, taking the water, “what’s the plan now?” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Dad feels guilty. Mom’s heart breaks for her. The fact is, she’s our biological sister. As for those bizarre thoughts… she’s probably just desperate for attention. Don’t take it to heart. Since we can’t prove any of it, we’ll have to assume for now that it’s just nonsense brought on by trauma. Mom and Dad want her to stay and get settled. And…” He looked at me, his expression softening. “You’re the sister I grew up with. That will never change.” Won’t it? But with guilt and blood ties twisting together, and Yena constantly whispering poison in their minds, how long could “never” last? When we went downstairs, the atmosphere was tense. Yena was nestled against my mother like a delicate white flower. Her eyes were still red, making her look like a frightened bunny. “Sister, are you okay? I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault…” Her voice was a weak, tearful whisper. 【What happened to her? She fainted right when I was holding her hand. I hope Mom and Dad don’t misunderstand. No, I can’t think like that. It was just a coincidence.】 My mother quickly took her hand. “Yena, don’t say that. It has nothing to do with you.” She looked at me, a pleading look in her eyes, as if begging me to be magnanimous. My father, Marcus Wilde, cleared his throat. “It’s good that you’re awake, Nora. Yena will be living with us from now on. You two… try to get along.” Impressive. In the short time I was unconscious, she’d already won over my parents and subtly turned them against me. I just shrugged and sat down on the sofa. Just as Yena was about to say something else, the doorbell rang. My supposed fiancé, Preston Hayes, had arrived. He was in a suit, clearly having rushed over from his office after hearing the news. His eyes fell on me first, then scanned the room. Yena’s eyes lit up instantly. She looked down, twisting the hem of her dress, the picture of a shy girl who wanted to approach but didn’t dare. 【Preston’s here! He’s so handsome today! He looked at me! In my last life, Preston chose Nora out of obligation, but then he realized we were the ones who were truly in love. Mom and Dad even approved of us being together. It was wonderful.】 Yena’s ears turned pink. My parents exchanged a look. If this was a possible future, it was better to let the two of them get acquainted. Better to be safe than sorry when it came to their children’s happiness. Preston’s brow furrowed slightly as he stared at Yena in shock. Great. Another one joins the mind-reading club. He quickly recovered, greeting my parents before turning to Yena with a polite, practiced warmth. “Miss Howard, welcome home.” Finally, he came to me. “Nora, are you alright?” “Why wouldn’t I be?” I said flatly. Leo broke the awkward silence. “Preston, perfect timing. We’re taking Yena shopping in a few days. She just got here and needs everything. You should come with us.” Preston’s gaze swept over Yena’s worn dress, which was completely out of place in our lavish home. A flicker of pity crossed his face, and he nodded. “Of course.” 【Yes, he agreed! I have to be on my best behavior. I hope we can be together openly this time around.】 3. For the next few days, I barely left the house. An international MMA tournament was coming up next month, and I had been preparing for it for a year. In this final stretch, I poured all my energy into high-intensity training. After getting nowhere with me, Yena seemed to give up on her quest for sisterly bonding and focused all her attention on my parents and Leo. At first, I saw them interact with a degree of caution, but they couldn’t resist Yena’s daily charm offensive. Soon, the four of them were inseparable, their bond growing stronger by the day. The huge mansion was often empty except for me and the staff. Leo took her to a few high-society parties. When he got back, he’d scratch his head and say, “You know, Yena’s actually pretty great. All my friends said she’s so sweet and well-behaved.” A hint of pride had already crept into his voice. I tried to spend some time with my parents, but Yena’s inner voice would immediately pipe up: 【Oh no, Nora’s alone with Mom and Dad. I can’t let her. I have to watch her so she doesn’t get a chance to hurt them.】 And then she would magically appear, wedging herself between us, and my parents’ eyes would fill with suspicion. And that was the thing. Yena’s predictions were coming true. She thought that my mother’s favorite rose bush in the garden would inexplicably wither the next day, and sure enough, the gardener reported it had wilted. She mentally warned my father that an antique brush washer in his study had a hairline crack and to be careful. A few days later, my father was admiring it when it broke in two with a gentle tap. She even fretted internally before one of my brother’s business dinners: 【I hope Leo doesn’t drink the wine that Mr. Henderson offers him tonight. An opponent drugged it. In my last life, he drank it, made a fool of himself, and lost a huge deal.】 That night, Leo was on high alert. He noticed something off about Henderson’s assistant’s eyes, made an excuse to refuse the drink, and later discovered it had indeed been tampered with. One by one, everything she predicted came true—except for the parts about me. The way my family looked at Yena transformed into pure adoration and affection. I even started to see suspicion in my mother’s eyes when she looked at me. It was clear. They didn’t trust me anymore. When they were all leaving to buy Yena a new wardrobe, I declined, saying I needed to rest. Yena lowered her head and started her predictions again. 【This is just like last time. She got jealous because I stole Mom and Dad’s attention, and now she’s going to come after me. I don’t mind if she hurts me, but please, don’t let her hurt Mom and Dad…】 I turned and walked away, ignoring the sounds of them comforting her behind me. Leo noticed my growing distance and sought me out when he returned. “You saw, didn’t you?” he said, studying my face. “Saw what?” “Don’t get the wrong idea. Yena didn’t ask for any of those gifts. We bought them for her. She’s such a good kid. She’s never been out with us before, and she missed out on twenty years of presents. It’s not her fault. Don’t take it out on her.” As he spoke, the affection for Yena in his eyes deepened. I felt a wave of nausea. “What did I do? I haven’t gone near her in days. Have you lost your mind? You all actually believe those thoughts of hers?” “But they’ve all come true! I just don’t want you to become the person she described,” he said, his voice dropping, his confidence wavering. Yena appeared out of nowhere, her inner voice arriving with her. 【Leo is trying to explain things to Nora for me. He’s so sweet. He cares about me more and more. It looks like Nora is really angry. Did I do something wrong? It’s all my fault. Nora is the most important, after all.】 Leo seemed to draw strength from her presence. “Just stay away from her. She’s not like you, so tough and dominant all the time. Besides, you owe her…” Tough? Owe her? Did this idiot forget who protected his chubby ass when he was getting bullied as a kid? Leo, lost in the thrill of finally being a protector, raised his voice, only to be met with my fist. Blood gushed from his nose as he hit the floor with a thud and didn’t move. I rolled my eyes. He seemed to have forgotten who he was messing with. Ignoring the panicked cries of “Leo! Leo, what happened?!” behind me, I went back to my room. The person I was closest to in this family now believed her. It was time for me to go. 4. I came out with my bags packed to find my parents sitting side-by-side on the main sofa, their faces grim. Yena was next to them, sobbing softly, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Even Preston was there, whispering words of comfort to her. The moment I appeared, all eyes snapped to me. There was a brief flicker of confusion at my luggage, but it was quickly replaced by disappointment and anger. What now? “Nora,” my father began, his voice simmering with rage, “do you have anything to say for yourself?” I stopped in my tracks. “About what? Leo started it.” “Still playing dumb!” My mother’s voice trembled as she pointed at the still-sobbing Yena. “You poisoned Yena’s water! If your father hadn’t found out, do you have any idea what would have happened?” My heart sank. What had she done now? When my eyes met Yena’s, she flinched as if she’d been struck, and her tears flowed even faster. “Sister… I-I’m sorry…” she choked out. “I know I shouldn’t have come back and competed for attention… but… but I really wanted to see Mom and Dad. I love them so much…” I understood immediately. She’d framed me. A cheap, yet brutally effective, tactic. The strange thing was, her inner voice never seemed to pop up when it could expose her. “I never touched her water, and I certainly didn’t poison it,” I said coldly, my voice steady. “You’re still denying it!” My father slammed his hand on the coffee table and shot to his feet. “The maid saw you hovering around the kitchen! Who else would do something like this to Yena? Nora, I was so wrong about you! I thought you were just stubborn, but I never imagined you were so petty, so vile!” The maid saw me? What a convenient witness. Preston stood up and looked at me, his eyes filled with a quiet disappointment. “Nora, even if you didn’t do it, you should still apologize to Yena.” His tone made it clear he’d already decided I was guilty. Nora? Yena? It seemed her little prediction about them getting together was coming true. “Since you all believe that,” I cut him off, my gaze sweeping over all of them, “then anything I say is pointless. If there’s no room for me here, I’ll leave.” I straightened my back, refusing to look at any of them again, and walked toward the front door. “Wait,” Preston said, catching up to me with Yena in tow. His face was set with determination. “I came here to break off our engagement. It’s true. I’ve fallen in love with Yena.” He looked at me with pity. “Don’t blame me, Nora. You’ve enjoyed Yena’s life as an heiress for twenty years. You’re strong. She needs me more than you do.” Seriously? Was he delusional? Our families had a simple business arrangement. I would never be interested in a pretty boy like him who I could flatten with one punch. Of course, Preston couldn’t hear my thoughts. He mistook my speechless disbelief for heartbreak. He went to Yena and took her hand, the two of them gazing at each other lovingly. “Nora, I promise, as long as you’re good to Yena, I’ll still think of you as a sis—” He turned back to me, the pity on his face freezing. I was already gone. It seemed things weren’t going according to his script. Seeing Preston staring blankly in my direction, Yena grew anxious. 【Oh no, is she playing hard to get? But Preston is all I have. I was alone for so many years, and he’s the only one who’s ever been this kind to me. But if Nora wants him… I… I guess I could let her have him.】 Preston snapped out of his daze and pulled Yena into a hug. “It’s okay, Yena. You’re just too kind.” He was right. Just as Yena thought, she must be playing hard to get. After all, besides her family, he was the only man who had ever gotten close to her. Preston relaxed completely, gently stroking her hair. After I left, I used the prize money from my competitions to buy a small house. Meanwhile, back at the Wilde mansion, Yena was in her room, on the phone. “Mom, you were so right. It worked. Nora’s gone now. Haha, I have everything that was hers.” She paused, a cold smile twisting her lips. “Okay, it’s time for the next step.”

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My husband was sobbing his heart out at my best friend’s wedding. My best friend, Chloe, was so rattled she rushed over to clarify. “Avery, I swear, your husband and I? We are not a thing! We’ve never been a thing!” Fueled by alcohol, my husband, Dean, slammed his hand on a table in the reception hall, pointed a finger at me, and bellowed. “Avery Harrison! I want a divorce!” Every guest instantly looked at Chloe’s husband, who instinctively reached up to feel the top of his head for imaginary cuckold horns. “What, did your girlfriend dump you?” Chloe’s husband muttered, confused. Of course, I knew exactly why Dean was having a public meltdown today. The woman he was sleeping with—the woman he claimed was his soulmate—was getting married right now, just down the hall in the ballroom next door. 1 I’d seen their texts. I’d read every single one. Savannah: Dean, I’m getting married tomorrow. Will you be there? Savannah: No, you shouldn’t come. I’m scared I’ll see you and won’t be able to stop myself from running away with you. But I know you’d never divorce her for me. Savannah: If there’s a next life, I promise I’ll find you first. I’ll hold you when you’re in pain and tell you I love you. Savannah: I love you, Dean! Then, she’d blocked him. Dean kept frantically sending messages into the void, knowing full well she couldn’t see them. Dean: Babe, I love you too!! I love you!! I love you more than anyone! Dean: But I owe her, Savannah. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I don’t love her anymore. All I feel is guilt! Dean: Can you just wait for me a little longer? I love you so much. I love you, I love you. Dean: If I came and crashed your wedding tomorrow, would you run away with me? Such deep, passionate love. A tragedy for the ages. It almost made me feel like the Wicked Witch of the West, the old crone keeping the star-crossed lovers apart. At my best friend’s reception, Dean was throwing off all pretense, ripping the veil off our life, and demanding a divorce. He was willing to lose his dignity; I was happy to oblige. All our mutual friends looked at him with sympathy. They patted his shoulder. “Hey, Dean, you’ve put up with Avery’s… diva attitude for years. Just talk to her. Make her change. Divorce is too harsh, buddy.” Chloe, ever the mediator, also stepped in, her smile strained. “What did Avery do? I’ll make her apologize. You’re a grown man, Dean. You must be deeply hurt to be crying like this.” Chloe’s husband, now certain his marriage was safe, joined in. “Seriously, man, this is my wedding. Show some respect. Don’t blow up your life on my dime.” Only a completely unhinged person would announce a divorce at someone else’s wedding. The fact that Chloe’s family hadn’t physically thrown him out was a testament to their restraint. But Dean had already chosen his path. “It has to happen today! I’m divorcing you! Avery, I’m sick of you! The thought of spending the rest of my life with someone like you makes me sick!” He drove the knife in deep. He clearly wanted no turning back. He wanted a divorce, and he was determined to drown me in his filth while doing it. He thought I was clueless. Chloe nudged my arm. “What did you do to him? Why is he so furious? Go mollify him, Avery. He looks serious.” Even my closest friend thought I was the problem. Everyone in the room was urging me to apologize, assuming my high-maintenance attitude had finally pushed the poor man over the edge. I was an only child. I’d grown up pampered, and yes, I had an entitled streak. I knew it. But over the years, I’d consciously scaled back my temper, especially with Dean. I remembered when my father warned Dean, “My daughter has a difficult, demanding personality. Please be patient with her.” And Dean’s response? “Avery is perfect! A little attitude? Who cares? If she didn’t have a single flaw, I’d never have a chance with her! Besides, I think Avery has a great temperament!” Now, Dean’s main reason for divorce was my temper—I was too strong, too bossy, and suffocating him. Once the love is gone, the virtues that once charmed them become the fatal flaws. The first time Dean mentioned divorce, I was completely blindsided. One moment, we were wrapped up in a tender, morning embrace, the next, he was on the phone, and suddenly, he said, “Avery, I think we need to talk.” I sat up, pulling the duvet around me, and looked up at him. “Talk about what? Our weekend trip? I booked us a lovely boutique hotel upstate. I even did all the research on the best vineyards. Isn’t that great? I’m so organized!” I waited for the praise I was sure would follow. Dean stared at me for a long time. Then he said, “I want a divorce. I’m exhausted being with you. Avery, even in a marriage, there has to be a boundary. I need my own space. I want to spend a weekend alone sometimes. We don’t have to do everything together.” “Your temper is awful, and I’m always the one accommodating you. But have you ever thought about my feelings? I get angry too. I need to vent. I need to be accommodated sometimes.” 2 I spent those next few months in a constant state of self-doubt. I thought that by dedicating all my free time to my partner, he would be happy and appreciate it. I loved him, and I wanted him by my side every second. Didn’t he feel the same? I reached out to every relationship guru and therapist online. Do couples need boundaries? The universal answer: Yes. I started taking online emotional intelligence courses, studying the science of marriage, and how to manage a modern relationship. Dean said I wasn’t accommodating him, so I reined in my temper and focused on being his supportive partner. I’d gently ask if he was stressed at work or facing any challenges. I hoped he’d open up. I was ready to be his confidante. But every time, he’d respond with, “It’s work stuff. You wouldn’t understand.” He grew increasingly impatient, while my temperament grew steadily calmer. I even learned to cook. Following the advice of the gurus, I worked on the principle that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. To save our relationship, I immediately quit my high-powered, demanding job, determined to be his perfect homemaker and supportive wife. For a while, Dean seemed to warm up again. Our relationship appeared to shift back to how it used to be. I was convinced my choices were correct. Until I found a small emerald earring tucked into the lining of his overnight bag. It sparked the most explosive fight we’d ever had. I screamed, demanding to know why there was a woman’s earring in his luggage. “You want a divorce because you’re cheating on me, don’t you?” I was hysterical. Dean’s voice was louder than mine, full of a raging defensiveness that made him look like the victim. “I work myself to the bone to provide for this family! And you’re accusing me of cheating because of an earring?! That’s disgusting, Avery!” His righteous fury was so overwhelming that the red-hot anger draining out of me was replaced by a cold dread. Right in front of me, he called his subordinate. “Savannah!! Why was an earring in my suitcase! You need to explain this to my wife right now!!” Savannah was Dean’s assistant. She’d been at the company for two years. Everyone knew Savannah had a handsome fiancé, Wyatt, and that they were getting married soon. Wyatt was a partner at one of Dean’s major client firms. Because of that existing relationship, Dean often took Savannah on business trips. No one, including me, had ever suspected a thing. It was perfectly normal for Dean to look out for his assistant, especially since she was part of the client network. Savannah and Wyatt came over that evening. “Oh my God, I am so, so sorry, Avery,” Savannah gushed, a picture of distress. “It’s my earring. I must have dropped it when I was helping Dean pack for his last trip. I am truly mortified that I caused this misunderstanding!” Wyatt quickly backed her up. “My fiancée was just complaining about losing the earring this afternoon. I immediately ordered her a replacement. Mrs. Harrison, I can show you the order confirmation right here.” The date on the order was indeed before Dean and I had our fight. I was mortified, completely at a loss for words. I glanced at Dean. Dean flipped the coffee table over. “This is ridiculous! You need to take a long, hard look at yourself, Avery!” He stormed out of the apartment. Wyatt rushed after him. “Dean, man, slow down! Don’t take this out on Avery. It was Savannah’s mistake. Let me buy you a drink. I apologize for her.” I didn’t see the flicker of smug satisfaction in Savannah’s eyes then. I only felt like a foolish puppet she’d manipulated. “I am so embarrassed,” I mumbled, apologizing to her. “I’m so sensitive.” I barely registered the faint note of mockery in her voice. “That’s what happens to wives, Avery. You focus all your energy on your husband, and you start overthinking everything.” “It’s normal to worry, though,” she added with a saccharine smile. “Dean is so exceptional.” Maybe I did hear the taunt. But feeling guilty, I just offered a sheepish smile. After that, the evidence kept piling up. Lipstick on Dean’s shirts, long strands of hair on his jacket, a lip balm, a bracelet, or a necklace left in his car. But I never screamed again. I was terrified of being wrong, of causing another ‘misunderstanding.’ Each time, Dean’s expression would be mild, almost bored. “A client got drunk, Avery. She hugged me and insisted I was her long-lost brother. That’s how the lipstick got on my collar.” “The car is always full of coworkers and clients. Someone must have accidentally left it. I’ll check at the office tomorrow.” I believed him every time. But I would spend the nights spinning, the quiet hours filled with suspicion and dread. I started having intense insomnia and slipped into a deep depression. I went to a psychiatrist and began taking medication. Until, finally, under the mattress of our bed, I found a black lace thong. 3 It was hidden deftly—a subtle black corner peeking out from under the white cotton edge of the mattress. This time, I didn’t scream. I didn’t explode. Even an idiot would know: he was cheating. And the other woman was a regular in our home. I waited until Dean was in the shower and immediately grabbed his phone. The password was no longer my birthday, his birthday, or our anniversary. I tried three times. One more wrong attempt, and the screen would lock. I remembered something. When we hired Savannah, Dean hesitated because her resume wasn’t strong enough. He’d talked it over with me, and I distinctly remembered her file. I remembered her birthday was Christmas Eve. I’d commented, “A Christmas Eve baby, that’s so festive.” On a chilling hunch, I typed in Savannah’s birthday. Success. The phone unlocked. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My heart hammered, trying to break free from my ribcage. From that day on, I checked the chat logs every time Dean went into the shower. At first, my heart would constrict, the pain so intense that my hands would shake. Eventually, I reached a state of cold, detached numbness. I started reading their long, dramatic conversations while casually munching on chips. I used Dean’s account to forward all their chat history to my own phone, then meticulously deleted the forwarded messages from his sent folder. They texted all day, every day. Dean even updated her when he was in the bathroom. Dean: Getting paid to poop. Savannah would instantly send back a funny GIF of a cartoon duck on a toilet with another duck cheering it on. It was annoyingly cute. Savannah: Dean, if I break up with Wyatt, will you divorce Avery? Dean: Of course, I will. We barely have a relationship anymore. I asked her for a divorce a year ago. She didn’t agree. Instead, she quit her job to become my full-time homemaker and even toned down her diva attitude. Dean: We were a college romance. She had plenty of rich guys chasing her, but she picked me, a poor student. She refused a dowry and brought property and money into the marriage. My job at the company? That came through her father’s connections. I owe her everything. Savannah: Dean, have you ever considered that her ‘diva attitude’ is why none of those rich guys would stick around? She picked you because you were her ceiling. If someone else had your career potential and could tolerate her better, would she have ever looked at you? Dean fell silent. After a long pause, he replied: My mother said the same thing. She thinks Avery’s family only wanted me because I was a ‘safe investment’ and that rich kids are too spoiled and run through their money. I had read every text between Dean and Savannah since she joined the company. Dean hadn’t deleted the records, secure in his arrogance that I would never look. I briefly considered sending the entire history to Wyatt, but I stopped myself. If I exposed Savannah now, the issue would be public, but Wyatt might forgive her. Savannah’s constant digs at me suggested Wyatt already knew something and had likely chosen to overlook it. Being truly adored gives a person a kind of impunity. Then, Savannah messaged Dean: Babe, I think I left your favorite pair of my panties at your place. Dean sent a string of panic emojis: Are you serious?! Don’t mess with me! Dean searched frantically: They’re not here! Look under the mattress. It would be bad if your wife found them, right? Dean flipped the entire mattress but still couldn’t find them. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe they’re not lost. Dean: Babe!! Be careful next time! I’d been reading their texts for almost half a year. The intensity of their whole ‘star-crossed lovers’ thing was so over-the-top, it was almost comical. Now, Dean’s demand for a divorce at my best friend’s wedding was a clear declaration of his resolve. He had made his choice. As everyone rushed to advise him to calm down, and urged me to apologize and save my marriage, I let out a sharp, unexpected laugh. “What’s wrong, Dean? Did your girlfriend dump you?”

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On my wedding day, my best friend Jess gave me a cheap lottery ticket as a gift. I saw disgust in her eyes as she said sweetly, “It’s the thought that counts. Besides, I’m pregnant—I need every penny. You wouldn’t take money from me, right?” Chilled but unwilling to cause a scene, I let it go. Later, I discovered the ticket was worth $50 million. My husband Mark and I claimed the prize, but the news spread fast. Jess showed up at our door, frantic and accusing me of stealing her luck. In the struggle, she lunged with a knife—but it struck Mark instead. As I tried to call for help, she tackled me. We crashed through the balcony glass and fell to our deaths. Then I woke up—back at the wedding, the lottery ticket still in my hand. 1 My hand was frozen in mid-air. A second later, Jess slapped it down, hard. A sharp, stinging pain shot up from my knuckles, snapping me back to reality. I was back. Back at my own wedding. I watched as Jess shot me a venomous glare and stuffed the lottery ticket—the one meant to be my gift—back into her own pocket. As she did, she carefully, almost obsessively, checked to make sure it wasn’t bent or torn. “Jess, what are you doing?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. “Weren’t you giving that to me?” Her face contorted with rage. “Giving it to you? Who said I was giving it to you?” she shrieked. “This is mine! I bought it for myself! Who the hell do you think you are? You think you deserve something of mine?” I quickly glanced at the numbers on the ticket. They were identical to the one she’d given me in my past life. What she didn’t know was that her ticket was a dud. The reason I’d won fifty million dollars in my past life was because I had also bought a ticket for myself that morning. The real winner was mine. The cheerful buzz of the reception hall died down, replaced by a stunned silence. All eyes were on us. A few of our mutual friends hurried over. “What’s going on? Why are you two fighting?” But Megan, who had seen the whole exchange, couldn’t help but sneer. “It’s Liv’s wedding day, and you give her a lottery ticket as a gift, which is tacky enough. But now you’re asking for it back? You’ve got some nerve!” That was the spark that lit the fuse. Jess’s eyes went wide. She shoved Megan violently. “What do you know? What could you possibly know?” “That ticket was always meant to be mine!” Her manic energy scared everyone. The crowd took a collective step back. And in that moment, I knew. She had been reborn, too. In my past life, at this exact moment, she had handed me the ticket with a smile. “I bought this lottery ticket especially for you today,” she’d said, pressing it into my hand. “Make sure you keep it safe.” “It’s the thought that counts. Just take it. Oh, and by the way, my due date is in six months. As the godmother, you’d better start saving up for a big gift.” At the time, I was just confused. I thought it was some kind of weird joke. We had known each other for over twenty years. When she got married, I had been her rock. The wedding dress, the diamond ring, even the designer handbag she carried—I bought them all for her. She had promised me that when I got married, no matter what, she would be my maid of honor. So when Mark and I set our date, she was the first person I called. Her response was a flat rejection. “I’m pregnant. I can’t be a maid of honor. It’s too much work. You wouldn’t make a pregnant woman do all that, would you?” I was hurt, but I understood. Being a maid of honor is exhausting. “Olivia! Are you deaf?” Jess’s shrill voice cut through my memories, yanking me back to the present. The thought of how I had died because of her made my fists clench at my sides. “Fine! Since Megan already called me out, I’ll just say it!” Jess shrieked, her voice echoing through the silent hall. “From this day forward, Olivia and I are done! We have nothing to do with each other!” She steadied herself on someone’s arm and climbed onto a chair, addressing the whole room. “Everyone, listen up! Anyone who goes to Olivia right now and gets their wedding gift back, I’ll give you five thousand dollars in cash! Right now!” People just stared at her like she was insane. She didn’t care. She pulled out her phone and called her husband, telling him to withdraw all their savings from the bank. When she hung up, she shot me a triumphant, vicious grin. “Liv, don’t blame me for being ruthless. You can only blame yourself for taking something that was never yours to begin with!” 2 She spat the words out, her teeth clenched. The atmosphere was thick with tension. A few people tried to gently pull her aside, but it was a half-hearted effort. They wanted to see the show. My wedding ceremony was scheduled to start in fifteen minutes. Instead, I was surrounded. “It’s Liv’s wedding day. Can’t this wait until after?” someone murmured. Jess tilted her chin up. “Let me repeat myself. If you cut ties with Olivia right now, I will give you five thousand dollars each!” Just as she finished speaking, her husband arrived, panting, dragging a heavy black duffel bag. “Put it on the floor!” she commanded. He grunted and dropped the bag, unzipping it to reveal stacks and stacks of cash. “Honey, all of our savings. Twenty thousand dollars. It’s all here.” The sight of that much cash stunned the room into silence. Megan, standing beside me, gasped. Her voice was suddenly syrupy sweet. “Jess, you’re… you’re serious?” Jess laughed, a short, sharp sound. “Of course, I’m serious. When have I ever lied?” “And believe me, I’m about to have a lot more money than this.” Before, they would have dismissed her as crazy. But now, with a bag full of cash at her feet, they were listening. Megan was the first to turn. Her eyes flicked over to me, and she held out her hand. “Liv, I wish you all the best. Now, about that two-hundred-dollar gift I gave you… can I get that back?” Before I could even speak, Jess was already counting out five thousand dollars and shoving it into Megan’s hands. “Limited-time offer! First come, first served!” That was all it took. A wave of people surged toward me, demanding their gifts back. Among them were some of my own relatives. “Liv, sweetie, I know this hurts,” my own aunt said, not even trying to hide her greed. “But who can resist an offer like this? Five thousand dollars! Do you know how little I make a month cleaning houses?” She turned and yelled over her shoulder, “Me! I’m next! I’m officially cutting ties with my niece! Can I get a little extra for being family?” The few guests I had were now all crowded around Jess. A few minutes later, the once-stuffed duffel bag was empty. As everyone quietly counted their money, Jess strode toward me on her tiptoes. In front of my disbelieving eyes, she called over the venue manager. She pointed around the beautifully decorated hall. “I want to book this ballroom. Right now. How much will it cost?” The manager shot me a troubled look. “Ma’am, I’m afraid that’s not possible. This ballroom has already been booked by this…” “Whatever she paid, I’ll pay double!” The manager hesitated. “Ma’am, it’s against our policy to…” “Triple!” A flicker of excitement crossed his face. He was wavering. “Four times! No! I’ll pay five times her price to book this hall. Right now.” That sealed it. The manager was sold. Without even looking at me, he agreed. “Yes! Of course! I’ll have my staff change the decorations immediately.” Throughout the entire exchange, he treated me like I was invisible. “Don’t bother,” Jess said, a smirk on her face. “Leave everything as it is. Just take down their wedding portrait from the stage.” She shot me a look of pure triumph. The manager, ever the professional, pulled me aside. “Ma’am, you saw what happened. We’re a business, and we need to make a profit. So… I’m very sorry, but we will, of course, compensate you for the breach of contract.” 3 I curved my lips into a smile. “Well, for a spineless opportunist, you’re surprisingly polite.” His face turned a shade of green. After a sharp huff, he ordered two waiters to remove my wedding portrait. I didn’t catch it in time. It fell to the floor with a crash. As I bent to pick it up, Jess’s foot came down on the photo, right on my face. I looked up and met her contemptuous gaze. “Back when you were doing better than me, you always looked down on me,” she sneered. “Now, it’s my turn.” “Thank God! The universe is finally setting things right. It’s my time to be rich!” A fire burned in my chest. “Look down on you? When did I ever look down on you?” “You dare say you didn’t? At my wedding, you gave me that diamond ring in front of all my friends. Wasn’t that just to show off how much money you had?” Her foot twisted on the photograph, grinding it into the floor. I couldn’t help it. I laughed. So that’s when it started. She had hated me since then. No wonder she’d grown so distant after she got married. And I, like an idiot, had kept worrying about her. The only reason I bought her that diamond ring was because she told me she loved it but couldn’t afford it. She had no idea I’d worked a month of overtime and emptied my own savings account just to buy it for her. I was an orphan, raised by the charity of neighbors. From the moment I met Jess, I had considered her family. Now I saw that it had all been one-sided. But at least I was seeing things clearly now. The photo was ruined. I didn’t want it anymore. I slowly straightened up. “Jess, I just hope you don’t regret this.” Booking this hall had cost me five thousand dollars. Five times that was twenty-five thousand. “Regret?” she scoffed. “Liv, you think too small. When you find out how much money I’m about to have, I promise you, you’ll be on your knees begging me to be your friend again.” Just then, my husband, Mark, came out of the dressing room. He was supposed to be greeting guests with me, but earlier, Jess had “accidentally” spilled a drink on him, and he’d been changing. “What’s going on?” he asked, then his eyes fell on the discarded portrait. “Jess? What are you doing?” He moved to pick it up, but two security guards grabbed him. “Jess, what the hell is going on?” Mark yelled. I was shaking with rage. A second later, guards grabbed me, too. “This is my party now,” Jess announced coolly. “And you two are not welcome. In fact, you don’t deserve to be here. So I’m having you removed.” She waved a dismissive hand, and the guards shoved us toward the main entrance, their hands on the back of our necks. Jess followed us out, a small, smug smile on her face. She was holding a piece of paper. She handed it to the manager, who taped it to the glass door. It read: “No Dogs or Millers Allowed.” 4 Mark went ballistic. He tried to lunge at her, but I held him back. Jess saw my gesture and her smile widened. “That’s right, Liv. You need to understand the new reality. You and I… we’re not in the same class anymore. When you see me from now on, you should probably bow. You wouldn’t want to get sick with envy over all my money.” A crowd of our former friends gathered around her, laughing and cheering her on. “Jess, I always knew you were destined for great things, even back in school! I was right!” Sarah, another classmate, gushed, linking her arm with Jess’s. “Jess, I always hated Liv,” she added with a venomous glance in my direction. “If I hadn’t heard you were coming, I never would have shown up to this pathetic wedding.” The most sickening part was seeing my own aunt in the crowd, fawning over Jess. “Jess, dear, do you remember me? When you were little, I told you not to play with Liv. I knew she was bad luck and would ruin your fortune!” Surrounded by her new entourage of sycophants, Jess was escorted back inside. When they were all gone, Mark finally exploded. “What is wrong with her? What just happened?” I took a deep breath and explained everything as best I could. He looked shocked, but he believed me. I gently touched his shoulder. “Let’s just take a trip. A honeymoon, just the two of us. We don’t have to deal with any of these people.” He stroked my cheek, his eyes full of concern. “Okay.” On the drive home, my wedding dress felt cumbersome and ridiculous, but I didn’t care. Today, I had seen everyone’s true colors. It was a painful but necessary lesson. My phone started buzzing nonstop. I opened it to a flood of photos and messages from my former friends. “Thanks to Jess, we’re eating king crab!” “Hey Liv, thanks for putting this all together! We wouldn’t be eating all this amazing seafood without you!” I calmly turned off my phone. I knew exactly what Jess was doing. She was spending her future. That afternoon, she took her new fan club on a shopping spree at the mall, buying designer bags and luxury goods. A trip like that with so many people would cost a fortune. She was betting everything on that fifty-million-dollar prize. What she didn’t know was that I was holding the real winning ticket. The time for the lottery drawing was getting closer, and I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she realized her numbers didn’t hit. I was wondering where she got all her cash when a friend who worked in real estate messaged me. “Hey, check this out. Is this your friend Jess’s house? She’s selling it for half the market value! Did she win the lottery or something?” I smirked. “Something like that.” So that’s how she was funding her grand performance. She’d sold her car, sold her house—liquidated every asset she had. All to throw money at people who would abandon her the second it ran out. Late that night, as I was packing our suitcases, my phone rang. It was Jess. Her voice was smug. “Guess where I’m staying tonight? A luxury presidential suite. Have you ever even seen one, Liv?” “Let me tell you something. After tonight, the gap between you and me will be a chasm you can never cross. Tomorrow, I will be a multimillionaire.” “Fifty million dollars! You’ll never see that much money in your entire life!” I couldn’t stand the sound of her voice. I hung up. The next morning, I woke Mark up early. We had to get out of the state. Just as we were about to cross the state line, her number appeared on my screen again. A frantic, desperate series of calls. I answered. A furious roar erupted from the other end. “OLIVIA! WHAT DID YOU DO?” “WHERE IS MY FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS? WHERE IS MY MONEY?” “WHY? WHY AM I STILL BROKE IN THIS LIFE?!”

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Since I can remember, my mother has listened to billionaire romance audiobooks every single day. It’s why the term “billionaire CEO” makes my skin crawl. While my mom was weeping over the ‘chase-and-apologize’ trope—the part where the male lead grovels for forgiveness—I’d be silently calculating his net worth, drafting a preliminary divorce settlement offer in my head. When she’d lament the heroine being a mere placeholder for the ‘Golden Girl’—his one true love—I’d tell her, “Then she should be aggressively shaking him down for every penny he has!” Unfortunately, I was born with a face that screams “don’t even think about it.” No man ever dared to approach me. It meant my carefully crafted dreams of becoming a professional gold digger had never once materialized. That is, until the night of a graduation mixer at a downtown bar. A group of guys in tailored suits—the kind that look expensive even when you can’t name the designer—spent a good minute sizing me up. “Holy hell,” one of them muttered. “She’s a dead ringer for Vivian.” The most attractive one—the one with the quiet, commanding presence—walked up to me. He smiled, a slow, practiced gesture that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You look uncannily like someone I once desperately wanted and couldn’t have,” he said. “If you’re willing to stay by my side, I’ll make it worth your while.” A thrill shot through me. Finally. I immediately pulled out my phone and opened my payment app. “Venmo me a million dollars right now,” I told him, holding the screen up. “And the stand-in fee, the emotional damage fee, and the ‘lost youth’ compensation fee will all be calculated at triple the market rate.” “If you hesitate, I’ll package up that whole speech you just gave and send it directly to your Golden Girl.” 1 The man froze instantly. His entourage looked completely bewildered, taking a few long minutes to process what I’d just said. “Shit, she’s a hustler!” one of them exclaimed. “What a waste of a gorgeous face. Link, let’s go!” They started pulling him away, but Lincoln Rhodes didn’t budge. He just stared at me, a flicker of disgust adding a new shade to his expression. “Right. No one can compare to Vivian.” “Even a perfect likeness couldn’t capture her pure, untainted soul.” I swirled the drink in my glass, tapping my foot impatiently. “Hold on, hold on. If you need an acting partner, the studio lots are downtown. I am not contractually obligated to play a role in your little melodrama.” The second the words were out, the guy closest to me reared back, his hand shooting toward my face. “You bitch! Who the hell do you think you are?” he roared. “You don’t disrespect Link! I’ll teach you a lesson!” Just as his palm was about to connect, Link’s hand shot out, grabbing his friend’s wrist in a death grip. He ignored the commotion, his eyes still burning into mine. “A million dollars, you said? Fine.” “Three times a week. I set the schedule.” He pulled out his own phone, ready to scan my code. I locked my screen and looked at him coolly. “The million is the non-disclosure fee, not the retainer, big shot.” “Billionaire CEOs these days are getting cheap. The old-school ones threw around hundreds of millions. Now they haggle?” Link’s eye twitched. A flash of irritation, quickly masked, crossed his face. But he took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm, and asked, “So, what are you suggesting?” I held up my right hand, palm facing him, and spread my fingers to show a five. Link understood immediately. He considered it for ten seconds, his jaw tight, then nodded. “Six million. Done.” When the notification popped up—six million dollars deposited into my account—I nearly burst out laughing right there. His friends were losing it, jumping up and down in impotent rage. “Link, are you insane? You’re letting her dictate the price? This is blackmail!” “You have dozens of women throwing themselves at you! Why pick this mercenary lowlife?” “She’s nothing without that face, man, she’s not worth it…” I lifted a hand to silence him. “One more word out of you, and I’m raising the price.” I met the furious glare of his friend. “If you’re so upset, take my photo to a plastic surgeon and see if they can replicate the results. Or maybe consider selling your own services? It’s a growth market.” With that, I leaned back into the sofa and opened a game on my phone. Six million dollars! I’m clearing out my entire shopping cart and buying my mother two massive gold necklaces. Link pulled his friends aside, gave them a stern dressing down, and they sheepishly filed out of the bar. He tossed a business card onto the table. “I’ll contact you when I have time. Do not attempt to reach out to me.” I immediately flicked the card onto the floor. “I’m free Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons. Weekends are reserved for my personal schedule.” “If you need me on a weekend, that’s time and a half. Federal holidays are triple pay. You know the drill.” Then I picked up my bag and left without a backward glance. I didn’t need to see his face to know the look of furious indignation stamped on it. On the ride home, I texted my mother. “Mom, I landed a huge offer at a major firm!” “Only three days a week, and the pay is unbelievable!” 2 Monday morning at nine on the dot, my doorbell rang. Lincoln Rhodes stood on my stoop, impeccable in a bespoke suit, flanked by two assistants. “Change into this.” He handed me a designer shopping bag containing an expensive dress. “We’re going somewhere.” “The service contract didn’t specify required travel or location changes,” I said, leaning against the door frame. “Ten times the hourly rate,” Link said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “The itinerary is highly confidential. Requires an additional non-disclosure agreement. That’s billed separately.” I pulled out my phone. “Ten thousand dollar retainer up front.” Link’s eyes narrowed. The assistant behind him audibly gasped. “Ms. Shaw, with all due respect…” Link cut him off with a raised hand and completed the swift transfer. “Now,” he said, the word clipped. “Can we go?” The car stopped outside the Rhodes Global corporate headquarters. Link led me into the top-floor conference room. Through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, the entire city skyline stretched out before us. The long table was packed with serious-faced executives. “Sit down and listen,” Link ordered, pushing me into a chair in the corner. His tone brooked no argument. “Keep that mouth of yours shut the entire time. Don’t say anything you shouldn’t.” I knew this plot twist. Bringing the stand-in to the company to piss off the real girlfriend. Rich people are so predictable. He turned and walked to the head of the table. The meeting began. The screens displayed complex financial data and the title, “East Side Land Acquisition.” The executives argued fiercely, the main point being how to crush a small company called ‘Lancaster Holdings’ to force a cheap buyout. I was bored, idly examining my manicure. That is, until a CFO quickly skipped past a section containing an abnormal set of financial correlations during his report. I raised my hand. The entire room went silent. All eyes pivoted to me. Link frowned, furious. “What now?” “Could you go back to the previous slide?” I pointed at the screen. “The reconciliation between your third-quarter cash flow and the fixed asset movements looks off.” The CFO’s face instantly changed. “Look, Miss, if you don’t understand, please don’t interrupt.” “I don’t understand?” I smiled, stood up, and walked to the screen, using the laser pointer to circle a few numbers. “The incremental increases here, and here, don’t align with the publicly disclosed construction in progress. Who is this surplus being laundered for?” The conference room was deathly quiet. Sweat beaded on the CFO’s forehead. Link’s gaze was sharp, sweeping between me and the executive. “Keep talking.” “Business consulting is billed by the minute,” I said, looking at Link. “Are we starting now?” Link ground the word out. “Start!” I immediately launched into a rapid-fire assessment, pinpointing three crucial financial loopholes. Each one pointed directly to embezzlement from the project funds. “My preliminary estimate puts the compromised amount at no less than this.” I held up my hand, showing an eight. Not eighty thousand. Eight million. The CFO’s face was ashen. Link’s expression hardened to steel. He gestured to an assistant. “Escort Mr. Lee to a private room. Assist him thoroughly in auditing his books.” He stressed the word ‘assist,’ making his meaning chillingly clear. After the meeting, Link brought me back to his corner office. “How did you see that?” He scrutinized me as if I were a biological anomaly. “Basic training,” I shrugged, keeping my tone deliberately cold. “Also, my consulting fee for those ten minutes, calculated at ten times my hourly rate, comes to eight thousand dollars. You can scan my code.” Link didn’t move. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence immediately dominating the space. “You’re more interesting than I thought. Not just a pretty face.” “Thank you for the compliment. Compliments are free.” I took a step back, maintaining the boundary. “Crossing this line, however, is not.” At that moment, the office door was violently flung open. Vivian Lancaster burst in. She stopped short when she saw me, then recovered, bursting into tears. “Lincoln! How could you bring her to the company! And you fired Mr. Lee for her? He works for my father!” Link immediately moved backward, putting distance between us. “Vivian, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice softening with concern. “Of course, you didn’t want me here!” Vivian pointed at me, her voice shaking with righteous indignation. “This woman! She was secretly taking pictures of the lobby’s security layout downstairs! She’s clearly a spy!” My heart dropped. I had taken a few photos while waiting downstairs, but they were of the artistic chandelier. I wanted to show my mom an idea for our new apartment décor. Link’s gaze immediately locked onto me. “Explain yourself.” A flicker of smug victory crossed Vivian’s face. I met Link’s intense, searching look and slowly pulled out my phone. “I can explain.” “But the accusation of corporate espionage is a serious one. The compensation for my damaged reputation…” “Ten million,” Link stated, his eyes boring into mine. The air thickened. He suddenly laughed, a sharp, bitter sound of disbelief. “Ten million? Sydney Shaw, your appetite is becoming insatiable.” “Thank you for the compliment. Inflation is high, and my market value naturally increases.” I rattled my phone. “Pay up, and I’ll prove my innocence instantly.” Vivian shrieked, “Lincoln! Don’t listen to her!” Link ignored her, waving his hand toward his assistant. “Transfer it.” The deposit notification chimed. I immediately unlocked my phone, opened the photo gallery, and turned the screen toward them—a series of close-ups of the ornate, luxurious chandelier. “Your company’s lighting is impressive, Mr. Rhodes. I was taking photos for my mother’s interior design inspiration. Is that a copyright infringement?” Vivian’s face went white. Link shot her a dark, menacing look. “Vivian, apologize.” “I…” I casually twirled a strand of my hair, smiling sweetly. “Apologize, or I’ll call your fiancé and let him know why you spent your afternoon here.” Vivian instantly clamped her mouth shut. She glared at me, humiliation etched into her features, and choked out three words. “I’m sorry.” “I recorded that,” I said, pocketing my phone. “Next time, the price doubles.” Vivian ran out of the office, sobbing. Link drove me back to my apartment. He pinned me against the floor-to-ceiling window. “Sydney, who the hell are you?” “Your creditor,” I said, pushing him away. He didn’t listen, closing the distance and kissing me hard, with a punishing intensity. I managed to turn my head, dodging his mouth. “Kissing is a separate charge. Ten thousand dollars a pop.” His action stilled. His eyes were turbulent, filled with rage and a newly sparked, aggressive desire to dominate. That night, he proved physically that he was indeed very rich and very strong. But even in bed, I didn’t forget my principles. “A change of position? Sure.” I gasped, looking up at him. “Add another ten thousand to the tab.” Link’s movements instantly became rougher. He squeezed my waist, a cold mockery in his voice. “You charge for everything. Sydney, doesn’t it make you feel cheap?” I laughed, meeting his gaze. “And doing it for free is somehow nobler, Link?” “It’s a transaction. Don’t flatter yourself by thinking of it as anything else.” He lost control then, taking me with a savagery that felt like an attempt to devour me whole. When it was over, he leaned back against the headboard, lighting a cigarette. “Vivian is getting married.” “Oh. Congrats.” I was too tired to move. “I’m not interested in your love life, and I can’t offer comforting words.” He crushed the cigarette out. The smoke obscured his eyes, leaving them dark and unreadable. “The Lancasters need the Ashworths’ financing. It’s a business alliance.” “So, she dumped you for money?” The logic clicked instantly. “And you hired a stand-in to punish her and console yourself?” Link didn’t answer. “Pathetic,” I scoffed. “But don’t worry, Mr. Rhodes.” I propped myself up and leaned close to him, my fingertip tracing the line of his chest. “Here with me, you can always experience something more honest than love, something money can truly buy.” “Like what?” “Like right now. Post-coital cleaning services. Fifty thousand. Cash or transfer?” Link stared at me, then slowly, a chilling smile spread across his face. He gripped my chin, his fingers digging in. “Sydney Shaw, you better stay this sharp forever.” After that night, Lincoln’s visits to my apartment became more frequent.

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On my wedding day, I knew the sweet soup my half-sister brought me was drugged. I smiled and drank it all. I watched as she eagerly changed into my wedding gown and stepped into the limousine of Steve Clarke, the kingpin of the island’s criminal underworld. In my last life, I woke up and hysterically tore her deception to shreds, ruining her reputation and getting her exiled from the city. I then married Steve, using my father’s position as a high-ranking military commander to help him legitimize his empire and rise to the apex of power. It all came crashing down when I was on the delivery table, my life hanging by a thread. Steve dismissed the doctors. He stood there, holding my sister and their one-month-old son, his eyes cold. “Seraphina,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt, “if it wasn’t for your family’s power, I would have gotten rid of you long ago for the humiliation you put Sylvia through. Now that your father’s own position is precarious, it’s time for you to step aside.” My sister, Sylvia, ground the tip of her stiletto into my fingers, a vicious smile on her face. “Dear sister, everything you fought to protect? My son and I will enjoy it thoroughly. The title and prestige of being Mrs. Clarke are finally returning to their rightful owner.” I died in a storm of agonizing pain and heart-wrenching betrayal. When I opened my eyes, I was reborn. It was my wedding day. … Outside the window, the faint, elegant notes of the wedding march drifted in. I sat up and waited for a quarter of an hour before pressing my temples and walking out of the room. My mother was just turning to go back inside, the corners of her eyes still glistening with unshed tears. When she looked up and saw me standing in the doorway, she gasped. My father heard her and turned. “Seraphina? Didn’t you just get in the car?” He pointed toward the main gate, his face a mask of confusion. “Then who was that in the wedding dress who just left?” I clutched my chest, my expression one of feigned horror. “It can’t be… Last night, Sylvia said she couldn’t bear for me to leave and made me a bowl of sweet soup. After I drank it, I felt so drowsy… I’ve been asleep this whole time…” The festive atmosphere in the room instantly turned to ice. Guests exchanged uneasy glances. My mother’s chest heaved, and she nearly stumbled. “Bring Linda to me now!” she commanded, her voice sharp as glass. Linda, Sylvia’s mother, was dragged from the crowd by security. She was clutching a suitcase, clearly having planned to flee. “No wonder you were crying harder than I was,” my mother seethed. “I thought you were genuinely sad to see Seraphina go. Instead, you were sending your own daughter off in the Clarke limousine!” Linda’s eyes darted around, but she tried to remain calm. “Madam, what are you talking about? The young miss overslept and missed her own car. You can’t blame Sylvia for that.” Before she could finish, the butler rushed over and whispered, “Sir, Madam, the Thorne family’s car is here to pick up the second young miss.” My mother’s face was a frozen mask of fury. “Which car did Sylvia get into? Find her and bring her back!” A cold sneer touched my lips. It had been almost half an hour. Sylvia was probably already in Steve Clarke’s penthouse. And Steve, I knew, would have been just as impatient. I glanced at the triumphant smirk Linda couldn’t quite hide and understood everything. This mother-daughter duo had played their hand perfectly. Years ago, Linda had been sent by my father’s rivals to drug him and conceive Sylvia. To protect his reputation, he had no choice but to let them into our home. Now, Sylvia had repeated the trick, drugging me to steal my place. By the time I woke up, the deed would be done. I had two choices: swallow this monumental humiliation, or marry the man intended for her, Captain Marcus Thorne. The Thorne family wasn’t the most powerful on the island, but Marcus, despite his youth, was one of my father’s most capable and decorated officers, his future limitless. My father admired his steady, resolute character and had arranged the match for Sylvia. But Sylvia had swapped her discarded engagement for my glamorous one. If I accepted, the news would spread like wildfire: the eldest daughter of the Shen family, jilted by the Clarkes, had been forced into a lesser marriage. I would become the laughingstock of the island’s elite. In my previous life, this was how Sylvia, with Steve’s backing, had stolen my marriage. Back then, with my parents’ support, I stormed the Clarke wedding. Steve, wary of my father’s military power, denied any knowledge of the switch and allowed my father’s men to drag Sylvia away. I married him, and he treated me with adoration. I naively believed he had been truly deceived that day, never knowing he and Sylvia were already lovers, just waiting for the right moment to use my family’s influence before casting us into the abyss. The butler reported breathlessly, “The second young miss is not in her room. The wedding dress from the Thorne family is on the bed, but all her personal belongings and documents are gone!” He handed my father a sealed envelope. “This was found in a hidden compartment in her vanity.” My father’s face was grim as he tore it open. Inside were several passionate letters in Steve’s handwriting and a few pieces of expensive jewelry. The veins on his temples bulged. He slammed the envelope into Linda’s face. “This is your precious daughter! Seducing her own sister’s fiancé! You have brought nothing but shame to this family!” I had found those carefully hidden keepsakes the moment I woke up, ensuring they would be made public. I needed everyone to see that this was a long-planned conspiracy. As expected, a wave of murmuring and disdain swept through the crowd. “She’s the daughter of a mistress. The Shens were charitable enough to take her in, and she repays them by drugging her sister to steal a marriage? The audacity!” “And that Clarke boy is no better. Engaged to one sister while carrying on with the other. It shows his character!” Linda, calculating that the situation was now irreversible, straightened her back. “Sir, Sylvia is still a daughter of this family! Why not just let them be? It makes things easier for the Clarke family as well…” My mother, trembling with rage, slapped her across the face. “Let them be? Your daughter used disgusting methods to steal my child’s future, and you dare ask for our blessing?” “Guards! Detain this woman! She’ll be handed over to the police!” Linda collapsed to the floor, shrieking, “You can’t touch me! I’m Steve Clarke’s mother-in-law! When he finds out, he won’t let you get away with this!” “I only have one daughter,” my father said, his voice like ice. “Taking you in was an act of mercy. Since you dared to plot against my most precious child, you have no one to blame but yourselves.” He waved his hand, and two guards mercilessly dragged Linda away. The butler approached, his expression troubled. “Sir, the Thorne family is still waiting at the gate. They’re asking when they can begin the procession.” My father’s face was ashen. “Gather my men! We’re going to the Clarkes! I’ll drag that wretched girl back here myself and force her to marry into the Thorne family!” “Father, there’s no need.” I stepped forward and calmly took his arm. “If Steve’s heart is with Sylvia, then I, Seraphina Shen, have no interest in fighting for a disloyal, dishonorable man.” My gaze was steady. “Marcus Thorne is a man you personally promoted. He is capable, loyal, and trustworthy. If we call off the wedding today, what would that do to his and his family’s honor? I am willing to marry him.” My mother grabbed my hand in shock. “Seraphina, don’t say things you’ll regret. This is…” “Mother, I’m not being emotional.” I squeezed her hand. “Marcus is a rising star who has earned his position through merit alone. I trust your judgment, Father, and I trust in his future.” The surrounding guests looked at me with open admiration. “Miss Shen’s grace and perspective are truly remarkable!” “Compared to her, that illegitimate sister is nothing but dirt.” My mother pulled me into a hug, her voice choked with emotion. “But this is so unfair to you, my darling…” My father took a deep breath. “That Clarke boy has humiliated my daughter. He will never get another ounce of support from me again! And as for his shady businesses on the island, he can forget about them running smoothly anymore!” His tone was resolute. “But right now, I’m going to the Clarkes to demand an explanation. Otherwise, that bastard will think the Shen family can be pushed around!” When we arrived at the lavish Clarke estate atop the island’s highest peak, the wedding reception was in full swing. Our sudden intrusion caused a stir among the guests. “Isn’t that Seraphina Shen? She’s the bride, isn’t she? What is she doing here?” “Then who was that woman who exchanged vows with Steve Clarke and was taken upstairs?” A family elder who had accompanied us snorted. “That was just the mistress’s daughter. She used a vulgar trick to steal her sister’s wedding!” The chatter swelled into a roar.

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The night my fiancé, Carter, signed the deployment order, my adoptive father handed me a classified dossier. “Pick one,” General Morgan said, his voice a low gravel. “They’ll get you inside Ryker’s inner circle.” I stared at the two names, both achingly familiar. The past, ugly and relentless, crashed over me like a tidal wave. The first time I lived this moment, I chose Mia. She seemed so innocent, so pure. But she ran straight to her brother, Marcus, my adoptive brother, and wept about how I was forcing her into the bed of our enemy. I had no defense. They threw me in the brig, and I died on the cold concrete floor after barbed hooks tore my flesh and jolts of electricity erased my name. The second time, I chose Zoe, the sister I trusted most in the world. She stole my credentials and presented them to Ryker as a sign of her loyalty. I only learned the truth as I was dying: she was the woman Carter had spent years searching for, the one who had supposedly saved his life long ago. That night, hunted as a traitor, I drowned in the suffocating darkness of a cargo ship’s bilge, my body left to the river’s cold embrace. Now, I stood in the same sterile office again. Under their expectant, calculating gazes, I tore the deployment order to shreds. “There’s no need to choose,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m going myself.” 1 “Are you insane? I’ve spent years training you, Ava, not so you could throw your life away!” General Morgan slammed his palm on the desk, his hand shooting out to grip my wrist. The bones ground together, but I refused to flinch. I met his gaze, and for a fleeting second, I saw a flicker of something dark and predatory in his eyes. “Ava, please, don’t do this just to make a point.” Mia stepped forward, her hand gently rubbing my back in a gesture of feigned comfort. Her voice was soft, but pitched to carry through the room. “Your injuries from the last mission haven’t even fully healed. You still wake up screaming from the nightmares. We all understand. You don’t have to prove anything.” A sudden, sharp silence fell over the office. Everyone here knew. They knew that during our last op, I’d shielded her from an explosion, taking the blast that shattered both my legs and nearly left me for dead in the fire. And now, here she was, carving open that wound in front of everyone and pouring salt into it with a sweet, concerned smile. “Is this some kind of martyrdom play?” Zoe sneered from the side, her voice deliberately loud, guiding the room’s suspicions. “You know the General would never risk you, so you volunteer for the suicide mission to look brave. You’ve always been the master manipulator, Ava.” Whispers erupted around me. The gazes of the other officers felt like needles, pricking my skin. Disdain. Contempt. A sickening hint of satisfaction. I bit down on my lip, the coppery taste of blood blooming on my tongue, but it couldn’t quell the rage churning in my gut. The door was abruptly pushed open. Carter stood there, his dress uniform crisp and imposing. He ignored the confetti of the shredded order on the floor, his eyes locking directly onto mine. “I approved that order, Ava. Are you going to be insubordinate again?” A knot tightened in my chest, a phantom hand squeezing the air from my lungs. Every breath was a sour, aching thing. It was always like this. No questions, no chance to explain. Just the immediate assumption of my guilt. In my last life, it was this reflexive distrust that had pushed me, step by agonizing step, into the abyss. I wrenched my arm from the General’s grasp. “There’s a problem with the order. Mia, she—” “Enough!” Carter’s voice was a whip crack. He closed the distance between us in a single stride, leaning in close, his voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “You’ll spin any lie, won’t you? You’re that desperate to get to Ryker.” His words turned my blood to ice. My hands began to tremble uncontrollably. I snapped my head up to look at him, and the raw hatred in his eyes was a physical blow. He remembered. He had lived it all, too. Mia returned from the adjoining kitchenette, holding a mug. “Carter, don’t be angry with her. Ava is just…” She didn’t finish. Her foot “slipped,” and the scalding hot coffee cascaded over my hand and forearm. The searing pain was immediate, a visceral echo of being burned alive. A choked gasp escaped my lips as cold sweat drenched my shirt. Mia snatched her hand back, her voice breaking into a theatrical sob. “Oh, Ava, I’m so sorry! I’m so clumsy. Are you okay?” Her performance was flawless. The picture of innocent distress, painting me as the volatile one, the source of the chaos. The sight of her duplicitous face made my stomach heave with revulsion. I couldn’t take it anymore. I snatched the empty mug from her hand, smashed it on the floor, and slapped her hard across the face. “Cut the crap, Mia. I’m done with your pathetic act!” Carter’s expression hardened, his features twisting into a mask of undisguised disgust, as if he were looking at something truly unhinged. He barked an order to the guards at the door. “Lieutenant Reed is mentally unstable. She assaulted a fellow officer and is disrupting military order. Take her to the brig. Immediately.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the silent room, his voice radiating absolute authority. “No one is to visit her without my direct command. Anyone who disobeys will be court-martialed.” The guards seized me, their grip so tight I thought my bones would splinter. As they dragged me away, I looked back at Carter. His posture was ramrod straight, his attention already elsewhere. He didn’t grant me a single glance. Only Mia, standing beside him, had a triumphant little smile hiding in the corners of her eyes. The brig was dark and damp, the air thick with the stench of mildew and old blood that made me cough. A guard shoved me violently, and I crumpled to the floor. An explosion of pain shot through my unhealed legs, nearly making me pass out. I don’t know how long I lay there before the cell door creaked open. It was Marcus. He squatted down, his eyes sharp, his tone hostile. “Alright, Ava. Spit it out. Tell me what you’re really plotting, and maybe I’ll consider letting you live.” I tried to speak, but my throat was painfully dry. A high fever was clouding my mind, and all I could manage was a weak, broken sound. He asked again and again, his patience fraying into anger, then hardening into cruelty. “The Lieutenant is uncooperative and refuses to cooperate with this investigation,” he finally declared to the guards outside. “Her confinement is extended indefinitely.” Through the small window in the door, my vision blurred, I saw Carter’s complex expression. Mia was beside him, her fingers toying with the sleeve of his uniform. “Carter,” she murmured, “she’s like this and still won’t give in. Ryker must have offered her something incredible.” Carter said nothing, but his thumb was unconsciously rubbing a button on his greatcoat. I knew that gesture. It was what he did outside the asylum in our first life. It was what he did on the docks in our second life, debating whether to save me. It was the tell for his internal war. But now, his patience was gone. His voice, when he finally spoke, was cold and resolute. “She’s always been good at playing the victim, at faking madness.” “Let’s see just how long her ‘unbreakable will’ lasts.” The next day, the door was kicked open with a deafening bang. Mia strode in, flanked by several guards. “Ava,” she cooed, “I was worried you weren’t comfortable. I came to help you get settled in.” Her eyes fell to my shoulders. She reached out, her fingers tracing the silver bars of my Lieutenant’s insignia. Before I could react, she ripped it from my uniform, the metal edge slicing my cheek and drawing a bead of blood. She held the insignia between her thumb and forefinger, her tone dripping with contempt. “I pull all-nighters studying tactics, I drill until my hands bleed, and I can’t even get a promotion. But you… you just had to sleep with Carter to get everything you wanted. If I’d known selling my body was that effective, I wouldn’t have wasted all that effort.” The guards stood by, heads bowed, silent. I stared at the insignia, my fingernails digging into my palms. I earned that. I earned it on a battlefield with a bullet in my shoulder, pushing through enemy fire to complete a recon mission. In her hand, she held it like a piece of trash. I opened my mouth to retort, but a sharp pain in my throat choked the words back. Mia’s gaze shifted to my neck, her fingers hooking the thin chain I wore. It was a necklace Carter had made for me years ago, a polished bullet casing from one of his first missions on the border. Engraved on it was the date we met. It was the only piece of our past I hadn’t thrown away. She yanked it. The chain snapped, the casing falling into her palm. “This worthless piece of junk isn’t doing you any good.” With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it out the small, barred window. I watched it disappear, a hollow ache spreading through my chest. Mia turned to leave. “Watch her,” she commanded the guards. The door hadn’t even fully closed when I heard the voices outside. Zoe’s was the loudest. “That bitch Ava has been one of Ryker’s spies for years! If Carter hadn’t found out when he did, she would have destroyed this entire battalion!” The lie spread like a virus. Every time the guards escorted me to the water pump, I heard the whispers. Soldiers I had trained with now turned their faces away or deliberately slammed into me, dousing me with foul water. The food changed. The porridge came crawling with maggots, the greens laced with grit. I stopped eating. On the fifth day, I was so weak I could barely lift my hand as I leaned against the wall. That evening, Mia returned with Carter’s personal medic. “You really are something else, Ava,” she said, almost admiringly. “Even now, Carter sends a doctor to keep you alive.” I had no energy to argue. I let the needle slide into my vein. My eyes drifted to a photograph in her hand, and my entire body went rigid. It was the only picture I had of my parents. I kept it hidden at the very bottom of my trunk. Only I knew it was there. “You want it back, Ava?” In the photo, my parents’ smiles were so warm, so loving. I struggled to my feet, my fingertips brushing against the photograph before a guard slammed me back to the ground. Mia laughed, a sound of smug charity. “Just sign a confession, swear you’ll never set foot in a military compound again, and I’ll give it back to you.” My eyes were bloodshot. “The only thing I’m guilty of,” I rasped, “is not killing you myself.” Her smile vanished. She casually dropped the photograph into an open drainage grate. The current was strong; it was gone in an instant. The world went black for a moment, and I nearly collapsed. But I didn’t give up. I timed the changing of the guards. I hid a small, desperate note in my sleeve and slipped it to a passing communications officer on my way back from the pump. It wasn’t long before he was detained. The note was delivered directly to Carter. He entered my cell, looking down at me from his great height. He squatted, seizing my chin, his grip so tight a pained grunt escaped me. His voice was dangerously low. “Tell me everything about your deal with Ryker. Be honest, and I’ll let you out of here. We can forget any of this ever happened.” I closed my eyes, refusing to waste another breath on him. Seeing my defiance, he leaned closer, his voice a casual, devastating blow. “You’re pathetic, you know that? To think you actually believed their car crash was an accident. You ran for help to the very man who killed your parents.” He continued, his words twisting the knife. “Your mourning period wasn’t even over before General Morgan rushed to adopt you. Didn’t you ever find that suspicious?” My eyes flew open. I stared at him, unable to process it. The image of my parents’ gravestones blurred with the memory of my adoptive father’s welcoming smile. It was a dull blade, churning my insides. Carter seemed pleased with my reaction. He stood, straightened his uniform, and walked out without another word. I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down my face. My entire life had been a lie. The sisterhood, the love, the loyalty—all of it fake. Even the truth of how my parents died. I stared up at the dark, blurry ceiling, and for the first time, I felt a chilling certainty. This life, this third and final chance, was a trap I was never meant to escape. Three more days passed. Carter’s patience was gone. “Start the interrogation,” he ordered, his voice devoid of any warmth as he leaned back in a chair just outside my cell. “Don’t stop until she tells the truth.” Two guards hauled me to my feet and strapped me to a restraint frame. The first lash of the whip landed directly on the old scars on my back. The pain was a searing, tearing agony. Blood instantly soaked through my shirt. I bit down on my lip, refusing to scream. Suddenly, Mia’s voice drifted in from the hallway, laced with practiced distress. “Carter, stop! Please, don’t hurt her anymore! She’s not strong enough for this. You’ll kill her…” I tried to laugh, but no sound came out. It was just like the last time. She had begged them to stop the electrocution then, too, only to turn around and tell the doctor to increase the voltage. The next thing I knew, a guard was approaching with a syringe. I tried to fight, but he pinned my arm down. The drug was fast-acting. Every wound on my body felt like it was being devoured by a million fire ants. My consciousness began to fray. Fragments of the past flashed before my eyes. Carter, standing outside the asylum, his expression cold and distant. Then, the crushing weight of seawater filling my lungs, the suffocating embrace of the deep. And him, on the docks, holding Mia’s hand, waiting for me to die. I don’t know how much time passed. Carter entered the interrogation room, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He frowned, a flicker of panic in his eyes that was quickly masked by irritation. “You brought this on yourself.” I was about to black out. Just as my vision faded, a bucket of ice-cold water shocked me back, my body wracked with shivers. Carter stood over me, holding a stack of papers. “Confess,” he said, “and I’ll consider telling you the whole truth about your parents’ deaths.” I lifted my head, my heart pounding. He was so confident, so sure he was still dealing with the old Ava. But I already knew. I had pieced it together from details he’d let slip, from the old grievances I’d uncovered myself. My plan to “defect” to Ryker wasn’t an impulse. It was a calculated strategy to expose them all. My parents’ murder, the General’s hypocrisy, and the truth Carter so deliberately concealed. I steadied my breathing, my voice clear and even. “It was just a mission.” The warmth in his eyes vanished. He pressed the glowing tip of his cigarette into my arm. He spat two words at the guards. “Keep going.” I don’t remember the rest of the torture. There was only pain. Late that night, the brig was terrifyingly silent. Curled in a corner, I thought I saw a familiar shadow in the darkness. Carter knelt beside me. His movements were cautious, almost gentle, as he applied ointment to my burns and wounds. When he finished, he left without a word, as if that moment of tenderness was nothing more than a hallucination born from agony. He was barely gone when Zoe pushed the door open. She carried an oil lamp, and her voice was a sickly sweet poison. “You just had to learn the hard way, didn’t you? You should never have tried to compete with my sister.” Her smile was chilling. “Now, once you’re dead, no one will be left to get between her and Carter. And that Lieutenant’s commission you were so proud of? It’ll be hers, as it always should have been.” My body went rigid. I forced my eyes open. In the flickering lamplight, the triumphant curve of her lips was identical to Mia’s. A memory flashed in my mind: my parents’ funeral. A strange girl standing next to Mia, wearing a bracelet identical to the one Zoe always wore. It was never just one of them. It had been both of them, from the very beginning. A perfectly constructed trap. And I, like a fool, had fallen for it, time and time again, never even realizing who my real enemies were. The next morning, guards hauled me to Carter’s office. The wounds from the night before were still weeping, every movement a fresh wave of agony. Carter glanced at the bloodstains on my uniform. A flicker of something—guilt, maybe—crossed his face, so fast I thought I imagined it. His expression quickly settled back into a neutral mask. He tossed a document onto the desk in front of me. “Sign this. You’re being reassigned to inventory management in the logistics department. Try to stay out of trouble and stop embarrassing yourself.” I used the desk to pull myself to my feet. Meeting his gaze, I couldn’t help but find the situation darkly amusing. “Why the sudden transfer, Commander? Are you afraid I might uncover some of your dirty little secrets if I stay?” Before he could answer, his adjutant took a step forward, ready to reprimand me for my insolence, but Carter stopped him with a single look. Mia, ever-present, tightened her arm around his. “Ava, he’s doing this for your own good,” she said softly. “It’s a desk job. You’ll be safe there, away from the fighting.” My eyes ignored her, focusing instead on the document. The document Zoe had swapped. It wasn’t a transfer to logistics. It was an application for immediate frontline deployment. My calculated gamble had paid off. I had provoked her into overplaying her hand. Without another moment’s hesitation, I took the pen and signed my name. The scratch of the nib on paper felt like a blade scoring across my already shattered heart. Carter glanced at the signature, and his tense shoulders seemed to relax. He stepped toward me, raising his hand as if to wipe a smudge of blood from my cheek. I flinched away instinctively. His hand froze in mid-air, and his eyes darkened. “You’re finally learning your place, Ava,” he said, his tone unreadable. He retracted his hand. He personally escorted me back to my quarters. Before he left, he turned. “Get some rest. Heal. And stop causing trouble.” The moment his footsteps faded down the hall, I slid down the door, my back pressed against the wood. My heart felt like a gaping cavern, a cold wind howling through it. I couldn’t cry. I just sat there, numbly wiping at the dried blood on my face. After a long while, I reached under my cot and pulled out the small dagger I had hidden there. I knew Mia wouldn’t give me time to breathe. Sure enough, in the dead of night, my door was kicked off its hinges. Several guards dragged me from my bed and shoved me into the back of a vehicle. The movement tore my wounds open, and the world swam in a haze of black-edged pain. I was dumped, unceremoniously, at the most dangerous sector on the front: Outpost Niner. It was the closest position to Ryker’s main stronghold. The air constantly hummed with the whistle of incoming artillery. I huddled behind a crumbling barricade. In the next instant, a masked man was on me, a knife blade pressed cold against my throat. So Mia couldn’t even wait a single night. She’d already paid an assassin to kill me on Ryker’s doorstep, a perfect way to frame her rival. My chest heaved with a mixture of terror and pain, but I forced myself to remain calm. As he leaned in to whisper a threat, I moved. My hand closed around the dagger hidden in my boot. I used the very same combat techniques Carter had taught me to defend myself from the danger he had sent me into. With every last ounce of my strength, I drove the blade deep into a vital point. Warm blood splattered across my face, the smell thick and metallic. Fighting back nausea, I crawled to a battered, barely-functional telegraph machine and tapped out a short, coded message: “Outpost Niner overrun. Lieutenant Reed, KIA.” Then, I transmitted the message directly to Carter’s command frequency.

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