Category: English

The Mayor’s son was being held hostage. My sniper rifle was set, just waiting for the order to fire. But right at that critical moment, my husband, the team captain, suddenly called a halt. He said we had to wait for his idealized ‘Moonlight’—the negotiation expert—to arrive and try to talk him down first. In my last life, it was exactly like this. The negotiation was useless. That expert dithered and dragged her feet, only agitating the hostage-taker even more, making him press the knife against the hostage’s neck until blood seeped through. I couldn’t stand it. I decisively pulled the trigger, taking down the perp with a single shot and saving the hostage. But the negotiation expert completely collapsed on the spot, utterly humiliated. She ended up having a breakdown and was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. My husband never said a single word in my defense. Instead, he assigned me to an undercover mission. Worst of all, just as the operation was about to wrap up, he called me, exposing my position. “You couldn’t wait a few extra minutes? You just *had* to humiliate Serena?” “Trying to steal the glory, huh? Fine, go ahead and be a hero right here!” As soon as the call ended, the gang members swarmed me, grabbing me on the spot. They sliced me, piece by piece, the agony so blinding I couldn’t even keep my thoughts straight. My last sight before dying was him and that expert arriving on the scene, both looking grief-stricken. Then I opened my eyes, and everything reset. The hostage-taker stood in the exact same spot, the hostage in his grip. My finger, which had been resting on the trigger, slowly eased up. This time, I wasn’t in a hurry. I wanted to see exactly how those two would clean up this disaster.

“Only seven minutes left! What’s the status of the negotiations? Any news from over there?” “The assault team and bomb squad are in position. Is the negotiation happening or not? We’re ready to breach at any moment!” Commander Riley, the deputy, had yelled into the public channel for the fourth time. But the only response was Derek’s impatient fury. “I’m telling you again, you’re just the deputy! Who gave you permission to speak out of turn? Everything goes through me, understand?!” “Serena will be fine. It’s her first real mission, it’s normal to be a bit nervous. Just give her more time, she’ll get it done.” But Commander Riley couldn’t wait. He was positioned directly above the hostage-taker’s floor, hearing everything crystal clear through his comms. “Serena’s just fanning the flames! Everything she’s saying is only provoking him! If the hostage gets hurt, can you handle the consequences?!” Derek, without a word, immediately cut Commander Riley’s comms and continued to yell into his headset: “I said wait, so you wait! What’s with all the questions?!” Then he suddenly turned to me: “Cassidy, what do you think?” I released my finger from the trigger, replying calmly: “I’ll follow Derek’s lead. He’s the commander-in-chief right now, we should obey orders.” Derek clearly paused at my words, but quickly recovered: “Hear that? Look at Cassidy, *that’s* what I call a teammate!” “Everyone listen up, any action must be approved by me first! Nobody moves until I say go!” I observed the hostage-taker through my sniper scope. His face was getting redder, his breathing ragged, and the knife in his hand trembled. He was clearly losing control. Meanwhile, that so-called negotiation expert, Serena, was still rambling on, like she was giving a speech, completely oblivious that the perp was about to snap. *This* was Derek’s highly-praised “professional”? Bombs had already been planted throughout the building. If the hostage-taker pressed the remote, the entire structure would be blown to smithereens. Yet, Derek insisted on letting a rookie negotiation expert experiment, using the entire team’s lives as collateral. In my last life, I was too hasty. In that split second, I fired my shot, pulling the terrified hostage to safety. Serena’s useless performance was obvious to the whole team. Afterwards, she became a joke, everyone mocked her. Gambling with everyone’s lives, only getting a few laughs was the team being merciful. She couldn’t handle the pressure and eventually quit, checking herself into a psychiatric hospital. As for me, I was promoted for the successful rescue. But Derek said nothing. For my next mission, he sent me undercover into a gang. Just before the raid, after I’d secured my position, he suddenly sent my coordinates to the gang. The gang members found me, tied me to a street light pole, and sliced me to death, piece by piece. The last thing I saw before I died was Derek standing in the distance, speaking into his phone, saying “revenge served.” I didn’t need to guess. It was definitely on Serena’s behalf. This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistakes. I wanted to see how long they could keep this charade going. Five minutes left. Everyone in the building held their breath, except for Serena, who stood casually in front of the hostage-taker. “Hey, buddy, no need to get worked up. Put the knife down, let’s just talk this through.” “That knife won’t do you any good now. Release him, can’t we just talk calmly?” Her voice echoed through our comms, and everyone couldn’t help but wonder—*this* was professional negotiation? “Does she even know how to talk? She’s just repeating the same two sentences!” “If two sentences could get someone to drop a knife, what do we even need the assault team for? Is she an idiot?” “Damn it! Are we just supposed to stand here while she plays word games? Captain, let’s move!” Serena heard them, of course. In my scope, I saw her, right in front of the hostage-taker, pout her lips and complain with a whimper: “Well, if you’re so good, *you* do it!” “Derek, I’m done. They’re bullying me!” She started to cry. The entire channel went silent in stunned disbelief. Someone couldn’t help but curse, “Lady, is this a playdate? Are you out of your mind?!” A few hot-headed agents immediately started to yell at her. Serena completely gave up. She turned and ran to the door, banging on it furiously: “Open up! Let me out! I’m not doing this anymore!” It wasn’t that she couldn’t withdraw, but the exit she chose was precisely where we’d set up a trap. If she came out through there, all our previous deployments would be compromised. The agent who had just finished setting the trap and was withdrawing through a detour yelled in frustration: “We went out of our way to secure that exit! I told you not to use it! Are you crazy?!” Before his words faded, Derek spoke again: “What’s all this racket?! Clear that position, let Serena come out through there!” “Dare to talk back again, and you’ll be silenced too! Understand? Follow my orders!” Serena, hearing this, actually chuckled in front of the hostage-taker: “Hehe, Derek always spoils me the most.” Even the hostage-taker looked like he was about to laugh from sheer disbelief and rage. “Oh, really?! So you cops sent a clown just to piss me off, huh? Do you really think I’m that easy to mess with?!” He tightened his right hand around the hostage’s neck, and his left hand pulled a bomb remote from his pocket. “You dare to play me like this? Today, no one is getting out of here alive!” Dealing with someone completely unhinged, out for revenge, required a delicate touch—praising him, building him up to stabilize his emotions and buy time. Even I, a frontline combat operative, understood this. Yet, *she*, the “expert,” was lecturing him, every word poking at his last nerve. A warning blared in everyone’s comms: The hostage-taker had raised the remote, ready to detonate at any moment. Every agent’s heart was pounding in their chest. One press, and we were all dead. Sergeant Miller, the assault team leader, finally couldn’t hold back. He made an urgent request: “Captain! Assault team requests immediate breach! Hostage-taker is extremely agitated! Repeat, request immediate breach!” The word “repeat” was a critical distress signal, indicating the situation had reached a breaking point, demanding immediate action. My finger pressed hard on the trigger again. Protecting the public was a cop’s sworn duty. But Derek’s answer was still the same: “Wait! We move only after Serena is safely out!” “Hehe, Derek’s the best! I knew you’d protect me!” Serena’s childish whine filled the comms, but no one was in the mood to respond. At that moment, the lives of everyone in the building hung by a thread. No one was smiling, and no one dared to curse.

After Serena left the building, as the team prepared to storm in, she suddenly started getting emotional again. “Derek, am I just… useless?” “Don’t say that, Serena. You did great. For your first time, not being terrified is already a big win.” “No, Derek, I need to prove myself. I don’t want to be dead weight. Give me a rifle, let me take down that perp.” “Fine. Take this sniper rifle and head to the roof.” “Everyone listen: no one moves without my command!” The comms went silent. No one wanted to waste another word on those two. My eyes never left the hostage-taker. Only three minutes remained until his self-imposed deadline. But through my scope, I saw his state was worsening. He probably wouldn’t keep his word. “Cassidy, I’m here!” Serena kicked open the rooftop access door, panting as she ran over and stood beside me, clutching the rifle. “Cassidy, teach me how to shoot!” “I don’t have time for your games.” I ignored her, dropping only that one line, and returned my focus to the scene in my scope. She immediately bristled. She kicked me hard in the back, then dropped her rifle and stomped right on my spine. “Cassidy, come on, tell me! Stop holding out on me!” That kick was no joke. It felt like a sledgehammer, my lower back and ribs burning with pain. The lives of my teammates were in my hands. I couldn’t move. I had to hold my position. Seeing my silence, she escalated, grabbing my arm with both hands and shaking it back and forth. Being a sniper isn’t a game. It’s about stability, precision, and ruthlessness. I’d undergone special forces training; her weak grip was no match for my training; I could hold my arm steady all day. My arm didn’t budge. I was at my breaking point, finally snapping: “Serena, if you want to throw a tantrum, go somewhere else! Don’t get in my way!” She immediately started sniffling, complaining into her mic: “Derek, Cassidy won’t even talk to me! I begged her so many times, but she won’t teach me… I knew I was dumb, I can’t do anything, boo-hoo…” Derek, without a word, immediately lashed out at me over the comms: “What’s there to hide? You’re an unmannered and unruly piece of work, no wonder you’re so dense!” I was an orphan. His words struck a nerve deep inside me, hitting my most vulnerable spot. In the past, countless people had used it to mock and humiliate me. After graduation, I had only ever told Derek about it. He once told me he would be my family. But now, he used the cruelest words to shatter what little trust I had left. I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palms. But I knew this wasn’t the time to retaliate. I’d settle this score with him after the mission. I refocused on the hostage-taker through my scope, only to realize he wasn’t looking towards the doors or windows anymore. His gaze was fixed right on us. From this distance, with my glare guard on, there was no way we could be seen… My mind tightened. I glanced sharply at the rifle Serena had dropped on the ground. Its scope was bare, completely uncovered. She hadn’t attached the glare cloth! Our position was exposed!

The hostage-taker raised his megaphone and roared towards my position: “You cops are truly despicable! I told you no tricks, and you just ignored me, huh?!” “You even sent a sniper to watch me, are you tired of living?!” “I’m giving you ten more seconds! If that helicopter isn’t here, we’re all going down together!” “Ten!” The air crackled with tension. The hostage-taker had retreated into the most difficult corner for a sniper to hit, the entire situation choked. I stared at the faintly visible remote in his hand, readjusting my position. If I could just shoot that controller, we still had a chance to turn this around. But Derek was still prattling on in the comms: “Don’t panic, everyone. He’s just bluffing. He won’t dare to detonate it, he’s not that ruthless!” “Nine!” I had just steady my rifle when Serena suddenly rushed forward and clapped her hand over my scope. “Didn’t we agree I’d take the shot? Why are you trying to steal it again?!” I yanked her hand away, only to find the lens smudged and blurry from her sweat. “Eight!” I glared at her, but she just pulled off her headset. “I don’t even think this hostage is worth saving. If he dies, he dies. At least I’ll get some target practice.” “I’m telling you straight, Cassidy, if this mission fails, all the blame falls on you!” “Seven!” “Derek and I already agreed, if the mission goes south, you’re out. He’s sick of clueless women like you. Get ready for disciplinary action, and a divorce!”

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My sister-in-law gave birth to twins, kept the boy, and abandoned the girl. I couldn’t bear it and helped raise my niece. As an adult, my niece coveted my property, staged an accident, and killed me. Reborn, I’m only living for myself. Their kids, their problem. 0 The moment I opened my eyes, I was back on the day my sister-in-law gave birth. When she heard it was twins, my mother, Eleanor, was desperate for two grandsons and prayed non-stop in the hospital corridor. My brother, Mark, sat in a chair with his legs crossed, engrossed in a game on his phone, completely unconcerned. The doctor emerged, offering congratulations. A perfect family, he said, a boy and a girl, just like us – an older sister and a younger brother. Eleanor’s face fell instantly. She turned to glance at me, snapping sarcastically, “What good is an older sister if she doesn’t help the family or her brother? Utterly selfish.” I sneered inwardly. Here we go again with the guilt-tripping. Not this time. I had no morals to bind. She could say whatever she wanted. Mark’s joy at becoming a father didn’t even last five minutes before the constantly crying baby gave him a headache. His face was a mask of impatience. Bethany, my sister-in-law, lay in the hospital bed, neglected and disappointed, groaning in pain. At the end, she cast a resentful look my way. I turned my back, ignoring her. Your own parents ignore you, your husband doesn’t care for you, and you don’t resent *them*? But you resent *me*? “Mom, Bethany’s safe, but I have to go. I need to get back to the office for overtime.” I picked up my bag to leave, but Eleanor grabbed me. “Your brother had a baby, the family name is secure! As an older sister, don’t you think you should show some support?” I snorted a laugh, counting on my fingers for them. “Since Bethany got pregnant, what single expense haven’t I covered? I even paid for her prenatal checkups and the delivery! What more do you want me to ‘show’? I might as well be the husband!” Eleanor hadn’t expected me to act so out of character, no longer obedient. She was speechless. Seeing his plan for money foiled, Mark angrily shouted, “How dare you talk to Mom like that? What’s with your attitude!” “Oh, I’m sorry, Mom. My attitude is bad. I’ve always spoken to you humbly. Unlike Mark, who curses and yells all the time.” Clearing my throat, I clapped my hands, as if making a firm decision. “From now on, I’ll learn from Mark. I’ll only look out for myself in life and at work, and I won’t spend a dime.” Mark’s face flushed crimson at my sarcasm. He rolled up his sleeves, ready to hit me. I quickly backed away, dodging his fist. Doctors and nurses heard the commotion and intervened, making Mark back down. I checked the time, eager to return to work. In this world, only the money you earn yourself brings true peace of mind. Eleanor blocked my way again, clearly not giving up until she got what she wanted. I didn’t have time for her long-winded lectures. I pulled out a pre-prepared envelope from my bag, handed it to her, and finally managed to escape. Behind me, Mark was still rambling, calling me heartless and ungrateful. I couldn’t be bothered. If I were truly heartless, I wouldn’t have ended up so tragically in my previous life. 0

In my previous life, my mother had insisted repeatedly that I attend Noah and Mia’s 100-day celebration. Besides wanting more gift money, she planned to dump Mia on me to raise. Eleanor had always favored boys. Bethany found two kids too much to handle, and Mark’s income was meager. The whole family was causing constant chaos because of those two children. Ultimately, they decided I should shoulder the burden. In my past life, I looked at little Mia, abandoned, and couldn’t bear it. After all, the child was innocent and so young. I spent a huge amount of time, energy, and money raising Mia, but I received no gratitude from Mark’s family. If anything displeased them, they’d snap sarcastic remarks and criticize me. When Mia grew up, Bethany spread rumors everywhere, claiming I had no husband or children and had forcibly taken Mia from her. Over time, Mia developed a grudge against me. When she found out I had substantial savings, she even colluded with Mark and Bethany to harm me. This time, I would nip that terrible outcome in the bud. Mia was Mark and Bethany’s child. Why should I overstep my boundaries and raise her? I arrived at Noah and Mia’s 100-day celebration as requested. Bethany took the gift envelope, felt its thinness, and her face fell instantly. I pretended not to notice and walked directly into the hall, like the other relatives. From a distance, I saw Bethany pull Mark aside, pointing at the envelope I’d given and muttering furiously. After hearing Bethany, Mark, furious, went to find Eleanor again. A moment later, Eleanor stormed over, livid. “It’s your niece and nephew’s 100-day celebration, such an important day! How could you be so stingy with your gift?” Mark and Bethany rushed to agree, chastising me for being cheap. Other guests gathered around, eager for a show, and began pointing fingers at me. I snatched the envelope back, tore it open, and counted the bills one by one in front of everyone. The amount wasn’t huge, but it was more than any other guest had given. I loudly asked how much everyone else had contributed. The guests all looked down, fell silent, and sheepishly dispersed. I wouldn’t be weak and submissive like in my last life. I immediately began to wail loudly, recounting all my years of sacrifice. How I started working early to support the family, how I lived frugally, tightened my belt, and sent most of my savings home every month. How I’d paid for Mark’s schooling, his job, his wedding, his children – all without him ever mentioning repayment. I hadn’t even finished crying when Eleanor, Mark, and Bethany, all losing face, harshly interrupted me. They dragged me to a corner, a torrent of complaints pouring out. They accused me of spouting nonsense in front of outsiders and making them a laughingstock. I straightened up, looking utterly innocent. “Honest to God, every word I said was true, not a single lie!” The party was full of friends and family, and Eleanor feared a bigger scene would be humiliating, so she had to give up. Mark and Bethany’s eyes burned with venomous hatred, as if they wanted to devour me. I didn’t care. I focused on eating, determined to get my money’s worth and make up for my loss. When it was our table’s turn for toasts, Bethany casually mentioned, “Auntie, at your age, if you don’t find a partner, what will you do when you’re older?” I raised my glass. “My life is none of your concern, Bethany. I’m healthy, I earn well, I enjoy life, and my future retirement is secure.” I paused, and before Bethany could speak again, I cut her off. “Noah and Mia are still young. Bethany, you should focus your energy on your children, and don’t meddle so much in other people’s lives.” Bethany was utterly floored by my words. Her hand, holding the glass, froze in mid-air, and she couldn’t utter a word for a long time. 0 Mark saw her reaction and quickly interjected, “Ava, at your age, if you’re not getting married, you should at least have a child to care for you. How about…”

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After successfully winning his heart, I chose to stay for Liam. But three years into our marriage, he changed. Later, when it was time for me to leave this world, I chose to fall into the sea, an apparent accident. The prenatal scan report left on the shore was my three-year anniversary gift to him. But he knelt on the ground, his eyes blazing with unshed tears, his voice raw as he begged me to return. I was pregnant. That afternoon, on my way home from the hospital, I immediately called Liam Vance. For three years of marriage, he’d always wanted a child, and I could almost picture the look on his face when he heard the news. But I decided to keep him guessing. I told him: “Remember to come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you.” At that moment, I was completely absorbed in my joy. So, when I stumbled upon photos of another girl in Liam’s cloud drive, I instantly lost the ability to think. It had started two years ago. At first, it was just two people cropped from larger group photos, then pictures of them hiking, watching sunsets, diving… The most recent one, from just yesterday, showed her profile, wearing a bunny-ear headband, focused on a claw machine. The claw machine’s glass reflected Liam’s face, a look of doting affection and deep longing etched there. As I looked at those photos, tears unknowingly streamed down my hands. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being slowly, excruciatingly crushed by a massive stone wheel. I was bleeding internally, raw with an unbearable pain. For three years, Liam had been utterly devoted to me, agreeing to my every whim. Everyone knew that three years ago, he’d shielded me from a fatal injury in a fire, and even now, there was a jagged, prominent scar on his back. After I’d finally captured his heart, my body had been in a coma for four days. He, still weak from his own injuries, had stayed by my bedside, awake day and night for just as long. No one had ever cared for me that deeply before. So, after my spirit had hovered for four days, I petitioned the System to let me remain in this world. The price for staying? My body would age twice as fast. Back then, I thought, if Liam was willing to give up his life for me, what was a little aging? Three years later, my appearance had aged by six years. I’d truly believed Liam wouldn’t disappoint me. Liam Vance, the CEO known to outsiders for his decisive nature and quiet demeanor, was always fervently passionate and incredibly attentive when he was with me. But I could never have imagined him betraying me. If his “beloved” was another girl, what did all his talk of loving me even mean?

That evening, while Liam was showering, I took his phone. The lock screen password was still my birthday; he hadn’t changed it in three years. It wasn’t that he was exceptionally transparent, but that I trusted him completely. After a few minutes of searching, I finally found her. There was nothing particularly special about it. She wasn’t pinned to the top, nor did she have a special nickname. But I’d seen her photos, so her profile picture instantly caught my eye in the contact list. The chat history was meticulously deleted. I clicked into her Ins profile. The first post was a share of a women’s watch. The caption read: “A gift from someone special, I love this birthday present so much, and the person who gave it to me!!” There wasn’t much interaction between them. Liam had simply liked every one of her posts. Including that one, of course. A new message suddenly popped up in the chat window. Seraphina: [Haha, you really agreed? Then it’s settled, we’ll meet next Thursday!] My heart suddenly felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, plunging me into a suffocating pain. He must have known that next Thursday was our three-year anniversary. Not our wedding anniversary, but our confession anniversary. That day, he’d shielded me from a suddenly collapsing wooden beam in that fire, yet he’d still trembled as he said: “I might die, but I still want to tell you, I like you.” That day, my resolve to return to my real world had begun to waver. We’d faced death together. He was willing to give up his life for me, and I gave up my chance to return to my own world for him. But now, as our lives settled into a comfortable routine, he had started loving someone else. The bathroom door softly clicked open. I quickly composed myself, marked the message as unread, and turned off the phone screen.

Through the rising steam, Liam’s chiseled features gradually became clear. He dried his wet hair, and when he saw his phone in my hand, a flicker of stiffness crossed his face. “What made you suddenly decide to check my phone?” He lowered his gaze, his deep voice betraying little emotion. Feigning nonchalance, I put the phone back. “Just on a whim, I thought I’d try your lock screen password.” “And did you?” He moved closer, the pleasant scent of his shower gel instantly filling my nostrils. I nodded, handing him the phone. “I did. And I was quite satisfied.” “All my passwords are your birthday, you know.” Liam took the phone, flipped it face down on the table, and tried to pull me into his arms. It was like he was trying too hard to prove his loyalty, only making his guilt more obvious. I lowered my eyes, deftly sidestepping his embrace. A flicker of concern crossed his face. “Eleanor, you don’t seem very happy today.” “Liam, I dreamed last night that you fell for someone else and didn’t want me anymore. I’m still a bit shaken from it,” I said, tilting my head back, trying to read his expression. Liam’s face registered a moment of stunned surprise, then he quickly reassured me: “Dreams are always the opposite of reality. Eleanor, I will never abandon you, otherwise—” As he spoke, his face gradually overlapped with the image of that young man in my memory, but his eyes no longer held the same clear sincerity they once did. I cut him off abruptly. “You don’t need to swear, I was just kidding. It was just a dream, it’s not real.” He seemed to let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and his expression relaxed a little. Liam was truly terrible at lying. Otherwise, his gaze wouldn’t have darted away, his voice wouldn’t have wavered when he spoke. We were both trying our best to maintain the superficial beauty of this relationship, but inside, it was already hollowed out. Eventually, he would tire, and the tenderness would fade. I could cling to the present, I could temporarily suppress my emotions, I could pretend not to notice. But what about the baby? I had to make a decision soon.

The soft yellow lamplight outlined Liam’s sharp profile. His lowered eyelashes cast shadows beneath his eyes. His gaze was fixed on his phone screen, a faint, unconscious smile playing on his lips. It wasn’t until I cried out in pain from scalding myself with boiling water that he frantically looked up. “Did you burn yourself?” His face was etched with worry as he grabbed my hand, examining the injury closely. “Wait here, I’ll get some ointment.” Normally, I might have let him fuss over me. But I gently pulled my hand away. “I’m fine. No need to look for anything.” Perhaps sensing my uncharacteristic coldness, Liam looked at me cautiously. “I’m sorry, Eleanor. The company has been so busy lately, I haven’t been able to spend much time with you, I—” I forced a casual smile. “Liam, I don’t blame you.” He seemed to sigh in relief, then carelessly changed the subject. “Eleanor, didn’t you say this afternoon that you had a surprise for me?” Liam’s eyes sparkled, my reflection visible in their dark brown depths. A surprise? There was supposed to be one. Perhaps I should have been more oblivious, ignored the faint scent of women’s perfume on him, ignored his frequent absent-mindedness, perhaps I shouldn’t have opened that folder named “beloved.” Perhaps time should rewind to three years ago, to the moment he shielded me from the burning wooden beam. I would have chosen to leave the mission world without hesitation. “A surprise? Are you sure you’re not mistaken?” I turned my head, giving him a faint smile.

Like many betrayed women, I became increasingly sensitive to details, trying to find any trace of his infidelity. But Liam seemed to be covering his tracks even more meticulously. He deleted his car’s navigation history, put Sera’s chat on ‘do not disturb,’ and even switched to a stronger men’s cologne. But he shouldn’t have forgotten to log out of his cloud drive that day. He shouldn’t have been careless enough to let me discover her existence. I still held onto a sliver of hope, wanting to know if his choice had changed. As he was straightening his suit before leaving, I looked up at Liam in the mirror. “You haven’t forgotten what day this Thursday is, have you?” “Of course not,” he said, hooking his lower lip. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, a hint of guilt flickered across his face. “But… I’m working on a project lately, so I might be home late that day. Still, I’ve already bought your gift.” He turned and handed me a beautifully wrapped small box. “Eleanor, open it. I picked it out carefully.” I opened the box, disappointed, but as I saw what was inside, I felt a sudden chill, as if plunged into an icy abyss. It was an expensive women’s watch. Identical to the one Sera had shared on her Ins page. Was his love no longer unique? Was he now trying to fob me off with the very same gift? “Eleanor, don’t you like it?” Seeing my frozen expression, Liam frowned slightly, showing a rare flash of impatience. “If you don’t like it, I’ll get you another one later.” It seemed that in his mind, I should have been overjoyed and satisfied with this gift. Even if what he offered was deceit, lies, and thoughtless dismissiveness. My breathing felt erratic. My stomach suddenly churned, a confused, dull ache. “Eleanor, what’s wrong?” I heard his anxious voice. After a brief ringing in my ears, Liam’s voice became clearer and more urgent. I struggled to compose myself, barely managing to straighten up. “I’m fine, just a stomach ache. You should go to work.” Liam, still persistent, frowned at me. “Eleanor, your face is pale. Are you really okay?” “I’m fine, just go! I want to be alone!” I practically bit out the words. Even as I pushed him out the door, he stubbornly asked, “Eleanor, don’t force yourself. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” I finally calmed down, shaking my head with a sense of resignation. Since he had already made his choice, there was no turning back for us. It was time for me to choose the right moment to return to my own world.

I lied to myself that I was just passing by, parking my car outside Liam’s office building. My morbid curiosity was acting up, compelling me to see for myself. To see who this person was, the one who could make Liam so obsessed with her, the one who kept him constantly on edge, juggling us both. The twilight sky was painted with streaks of red and gold, like trailing tassels. Sera, bathed in that brilliant light, walked into my view. She was so young, with just a touch of makeup, her face alight with a bright, unapologetic smile, radiating an indescribable youthful energy. Just like in those photos, she was vibrant, lively, young, and beautiful. And I, paying the price for staying, already had wrinkles at the corners of my eyes, which I tried to hide with foundation, only making it more obvious. I was trapped in a mundane marriage, trapped in lies and suspicion, trapped in a hollow love. Liam, in his perfectly tailored suit, looked even taller and more distinguished as he walked ahead. Sera, tripping along behind him, still clutching a pile of files, was babbling on and on. To outsiders, Liam seemed unapproachable and aloof, sometimes unreasonably harsh, even borderline cruel, with his subordinates. The crisp autumn breeze made Sera shiver, and she unconsciously pulled her arms around herself. The next moment, Liam turned, and silently draped his jacket over her shoulders. My heart lurched, my fingers freezing mid-air. On my phone screen was the number I couldn’t bring myself to dial. I suddenly remembered when I first came here. Having no parents, no friends, just wandering in an unfamiliar world – it was a terrible feeling. I spent my days persistently following Liam, hoping to complete my mission quickly and return to my own world. But Liam was like a block of impenetrable ice, rejecting my confessions over and over again. I tirelessly stayed by his side. He would often frown and say he didn’t want to hear my voice, so I would just follow him in silence. I discovered that he was just as lonely as I was. In the desolate, empty alleyways, only our footsteps echoed, always giving me a false sense of companionship. For three years, he remained distant and cold, and I was on the verge of giving up. Until the moment he threw himself over me, protecting me, that I finally realized how much he loved me. Later, he cupped my face and told me: “My entire life before this, I’ve been so incredibly lonely. That’s why I’ve been afraid to express love, afraid to commit, because I’m a coward, afraid of being abandoned.” “I’m afraid to say ‘I love you’ lightly. But if being willing to give up everything for someone counts as love, then I love you.” “If you still like me, let’s be each other’s only one. Let’s never leave each other, okay?” The world was so quiet, I could only hear our heartbeats. His handsome face, shrinking and expanding in my vision as he leaned closer, I blushed and closed my eyes, willing to drown in the moment. Liam was terrified of being alone. He said he only wanted me by his side, that even doing nothing, just being together, made him happy. But now, it seemed he no longer needed me. Everything actually had signs. Last time, when I celebrated Liam’s birthday, Sera had called too, but back then, I didn’t know who she was. In the silence, the sudden ring of the phone was jarring. Liam hesitated for a few seconds before answering.

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When I saw Dominic Thorne again, he was the high-flying CEO of a publicly listed company. And I was just a bottle girl in a club. He stared at me, his eyes cold and disdainful, a smirk even in the curve of his brows. Later, when he was drunk, he grabbed my chin, completely losing his composure. “Hmph, Miss Blackwood, the notorious Miss Blackwood, really will do anything for money, won’t she?” Inside the booming Neon Club, Mr. Reynolds, the manager, excitedly told us, “VIP Penthouse Suite 101, all big spenders in there. You girls put in some effort, push a lot of drinks.” “Especially you, Aria. If you do well tonight, you might just cover your mom’s medical bills for a month.” “That’s right, Aria, go for it!” “You got this, Aria!” I gave them a grateful smile. I never thought that amidst the cold, flashy lights of this place, there would still be such warm-hearted people. My sisters and I, dressed in sexy outfits, each holding a bottle of fine wine ranging from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of dollars, lined up and appeared in VIP Penthouse Suite 101. The room was dim, the music pumping. We wore smiles that held little truth. I scanned the dozen or so men in the room. They were all in suits, with playful, arrogant smiles on their faces. They openly scrutinized us, as if we were merchandise on a shelf, waiting to be bought. I’d long grown accustomed to such gazes. Suddenly, as my gaze swept over one particular man, the half-million-dollar bottle of imported liquor in my hand almost slipped to the floor. Dominic Thorne? The moment our eyes met, his showed shock. It was quickly replaced by disgust. The group of men with him said deferentially, “Mr. Thorne, you first, pick one.” Dominic walked up to me, gave a dismissive smirk, then pulled Chloe, a sister next to me. After that, the other men came one by one to choose their hostesses. A few who initially wanted to pick me, seeing the price of the wine in my hand, sheepishly picked other girls. As I was about to leave, a pot-bellied man called out to me with an unwelcome leer. “Tsk, the price of that bottle is enough to buy you entirely.” I forced out a smile, using every ounce of strength I had. “Sir, fine wine for a hero. This bottle may be expensive, but for you, it’s worth it.” My flattery made the greasy man beam with delight. He wrapped an arm around my neck. “Oh, your sweet talk is something else. How about a little kiss, huh?” I don’t know if it was my imagination, but Dominic’s arm around Chloe seemed to tremble slightly. I cleverly dodged him. “Sir, you haven’t even had a drink yet, and you’re already drunk.” He didn’t seem annoyed, pulling me down to sit beside him. “I get it, I get it. Drinks first, right? You women here, once you’re drunk enough, it’s not just your lips, is it? You’ll let a guy kiss you anywhere. Hahaha…” Dominic, looking impatient, told Chloe, “Open the bottle.” Only then did the greasy man stop pestering me and started raising his glass with the others.

In the dim lighting, human nature was, to a certain extent, unleashed. They flattered, exchanged pleasantries, boasted, and recounted their heroic deeds to the bottle girls beside them. Not far away, Dominic Thorne stood out like an anomaly. He accepted every single toast, never refusing a drink, yet barely uttered a word. After three rounds of drinks, the greasy man suddenly pulled me onto his lap. His thick, leering lips lunged straight for me. I frantically pushed him away and stood up. “Mr. Davies, you’ve had too much to drink…” *Slap!* The greasy man, face flushed crimson, slapped me across the face. “You little slut! I’m being nice, and you’re just throwing it back in my face? This bottle of wine cost a fortune, you don’t seriously think I spent hundreds of thousands just to *drink* the damn thing, do you?” Mr. Reynolds, hearing the commotion in the room, scurried in. He immediately pulled me behind him, facing the greasy man and apologizing profusely. “Mr. Davies, please calm down, calm down. Aria’s young and foolish, not worth your anger. Please, just let it go.” But the greasy man was relentless. He shoved Mr. Reynolds aside. “Foolish? No problem, I’ll teach her a lesson and she’ll learn to be smart.” With that, his greasy hands reached out to tear at my clothes. *Crash!* “Enough, Arthur. You’re really something.” Dominic Thorne had smashed a bottle of wine to pieces. The noisy room fell into a sudden, eerie silence. Three-tenths of the greasy man’s drunkenness instantly sobered up. “Mr… Mr. Thorne, come on, none of these girls are innocent, are they? Besides, I just ordered a half-million-dollar bottle from her, she’ll at least get…” Dominic’s face was so dark it looked like it was about to drip ink. He tossed a black card at the greasy man. “This round’s on me.” The greasy man frantically picked up the card, trying to hand it back to Dominic. But Dominic struck it away with a punch. He walked over, expressionless, and pulled me out. Mr. Reynolds called my name in concern from behind. I shook my head at him, telling him not to worry. Dominic Thorne, a rising titan in Harbor City’s business world. Ruthless and decisive, a man who played by no one’s rules but his own. Neither Mr. Reynolds nor I could afford to offend him.

Outside the club, Dominic pinned me against the wall. His bloodshot eyes seemed to hold a volcano on the verge of eruption. He squeezed my chin, saying disdainfully, “Hmph, Miss Blackwood, the notorious Miss Blackwood, really will do anything for money, won’t she?” “How about it? Why don’t you become my mistress?” I stared at him in shock. I never imagined such hurtful words could come from his mouth. He scoffed. “What? You’re unwilling? Or maybe you just want to name your price?” My hand trembled as I raised it, slapping him across the face. He stuck out his tongue, a cold smile playing on his lips as he licked a bead of blood from the corner of his mouth. He gripped my wrist, his eyes blazing. “Aria Blackwood, you don’t honestly think you’re still the untouchable Miss Blackwood, do you? A woman like you, what’s with the act of being a virtuous lady?” He violently threw my hand away, leaving me with a chilling sentence: “I’ll be waiting for you to beg me.” Then he strode away. Watching his retreating back, my eyes stung. All those sweet, warm moments felt as vivid as yesterday. But I had forgotten that five years were enough to crush everything into dust.

Five years ago, Blackwood Inc. was framed, and its finances plunged into a major crisis. My father, unable to bear the burden, jumped to his death. My mother, unable to cope with the shock, developed severe depression, requiring expensive treatment every month. At that time, Dominic Thorne had just been accepted to a prestigious business school in the U.S. I didn’t want to be a burden to him, so I forced myself to break up with him. Back then, Dominic loved me to the core. He was willing to give up everything for me. But I was no different. When he pressed for a reason, I used differences in social status and family background as an excuse. “Love without money is like a pile of loose sand,” I’d sneer, quoting some trashy romance flick, “doesn’t even need a strong wind, just a couple of steps and it’s gone.” “Dominic Thorne, what makes you so confident you can give me happiness?” He cried then, promising me, “Aria, please believe me, I’ll make sure you live a happy life with my own two hands. Just wait for me, okay?” I believed him, of course I did. He was destined to shine, a star just waiting for its moment. Provided, of course, that I wasn’t dragging him down. I pointed to the clothes on my body. “This one, thirty-five thousand; this one, fifty thousand; even my hair tie costs five thousand. And you? Your whole outfit probably doesn’t add up to two hundred, does it?” “Dominic Thorne, what makes you think I should trust you? We’re not the same kind of people. Some people spend their whole lives trying to reach Rome. I was born there.” Dominic looked at me in disbelief, as if he’d never known me. “Then what was our past? What were all those vows we made?” Seeing him in such a hysterical state, my heart felt as if it were being gnawed by a thousand ants. I forced back the pain and sneered, “It was just for kicks, why are you making such a big deal out of it?” Those eyes, once bright as stars, were now filled only with despair and hatred. It chilled me to the bone. I wanted to tell him everything, then throw myself into his arms and cry out all the grievances I’d bottled up. But I could only watch helplessly as his desolate figure vanished from my sight. After he went abroad, the debt collectors hounded me everywhere. My mother’s exorbitant medical bills crushed me daily, making it impossible to breathe. In less than a month, I lost twenty pounds. In the dead of night, I would think of Dominic Thorne until I felt like I was going insane. Many times, I stood on the rooftop, listening to the whistling wind around me. I wanted to be a free bird, to just leap. But each time, my mom in her hospital room, Dominic with his hair flying in my mind’s eye, they were like threads behind me, pulling me back.

The next evening, when I went to work, Mr. Reynolds called me into his office. He handed me a stack of cash. “Aria, this is your salary for the month. After this… you don’t have to come in anymore.” “W-why?” Years ago, desperate for money, I had nowhere else to turn but to apply for a bottle girl position at The Neon. Mr. Reynolds, knowing my situation, had always looked out for me. And the other girls, they were truly genuine with me. For years, I had lost all my friends. The Neon had become like my home. The girls here, they were my family and friends. Mr. Reynolds sighed. “Aria, I’m sorry. That person is someone we can’t afford to offend. I also have a wife and children to support, I hope you can understand.” I suddenly remembered what Dominic had said last night: “I’ll be waiting for you to beg me.” It was his doing. Mr. Reynolds indeed couldn’t afford to offend him. Not just Mr. Reynolds, but the entire Neon Club couldn’t. I nodded, forcing back the tears in my eyes. “It’s okay. Thank you for taking care of me all these years, Mr. Reynolds. I’ll always remember your kindness.” He waved his hand. “Go find another job quickly. Your mom’s condition can’t be delayed. I’ve paid you an extra half-month’s salary. This is the last thing I can do for you.” I bowed gratefully to Mr. Reynolds, then left with a heavy heart. After leaving The Neon, I first rushed to the hospital to pay my mom’s medical fees for the month. Then I went home and started preparing my resume. In my current situation, I couldn’t afford to waste a single day. Half a month later, I found myself squatting by the roadside, feeling helpless, staring at the resume in my hand. No matter what job I applied for, things would start off well. But each time it came to the point of discussing employment, the HR manager would tell me I wasn’t quite suitable. One HR manager cryptically told me, “Miss Blackwood, you should really think about whether you’ve offended someone. Otherwise, it will be very difficult for you to find work here in Harbor City.” I gave a bitter smile. Besides Dominic Thorne, who else could it be? As I struggled to figure out how to break this deadlock, my mom’s condition worsened, and she was admitted to the ICU. Watching the money drain away like water, I felt a deep sense of powerlessness. Was it just about dropping my pride and begging him? When fate’s hand gripped your throat, what was pride truly worth? I dialed the number etched in my heart. *Beep… beep… beep…* The phone’s ring seemed to have a magic of its own; with each ring, a shred of my soul was pulled away. When the ringing stopped, I collapsed onto the sofa. Relieved, yet also lost. Suddenly, my phone rang. Seeing the familiar number on the screen, I felt as if I were dreaming. As if answering it would take me back five years, to a time before everything had happened. After taking a deep breath, I answered the call. Dominic Thorne coldly stated an address. “You have twenty minutes. Get over here.” I threw on a random jacket, rushed downstairs, and hailed a cab. When I arrived at Dominic’s house, he was meticulously working on his laptop on the sofa. Seeing me, he said dismissively, “When you’re begging someone, shouldn’t you have the attitude of someone who’s begging?” I walked up to him and struggled to speak. “Mr. Thorne, please, overlook my foolishness. Don’t stoop to my level. Just let me have a way to live.” He put down his laptop and gave me a playful smirk. “Alright, be my mistress, and I’ll cover your mom’s medical bills for a month.” My face turned ashen as I pleaded with him. “Dominic, please don’t do this to me, okay?” His expression changed drastically. “Shut up. Who gave you permission to call me that? I’m not negotiating with you. If you don’t agree, get out now. But I hear your mom’s condition isn’t looking too good.” He knew me all too well. I desperately wanted to walk away, but the thought of my mom, eyes closed in her hospital bed, made my legs feel as heavy as lead. I had already lost too much in this life. I couldn’t lose my mom too. “Okay, I agree.” Dominic Thorne looked at me in surprise, then said, “Aria Blackwood, you truly are pathetic.”

Dominic Thorne handed me a card. “This card has no limit, spend what you want. I expect you to act like a proper mistress; don’t make me feel like my money’s wasted.” I took the card and rushed to the hospital to pay my mom’s overdue medical bills. That evening, Dominic called me, telling me to pick him up from a hotel. The men who saw me there teased him, “Mr. Thorne, is this your girlfriend? She’s really beautiful.” Dominic scoffed. “Her? She’s not worthy.” The men looked at me, smirking knowingly, an expression that said *I understand*. My face burned. It felt as if I had been stripped naked and thrown onto the street. I took the seven-tenths-drunk Dominic, helped him into the car, and drove him to the residence he had arranged for me that afternoon. The moment we entered, he violently pinned me against the wall. A warm breath caressed my face. Instinctively, I pushed him away. Dominic, enraged, pressed me harder against the wall. “Don’t forget, you’re my mistress now. You just spent eighty thousand of my money this afternoon, didn’t you? Have you forgotten what you’re supposed to do?” He roughly pulled me, throwing me onto the bedroom bed. He savagely tore at my clothes. Terrified, I tried to push him away. But that only fueled his anger further. Then, pain radiated from every pore. Seeing my tears stream down my face, Dominic’s expression showed a fleeting moment of panic. After it was over, he carried me to the bathroom. He placed me into the already-drawn bathwater. He gently scrubbed my body, covered in red marks. Back in the bedroom, Dominic stared blankly at the crimson stain on the sheets. Then, he efficiently changed the bedding. “Get some sleep. I have to go to work tomorrow. You’ll come with me tomorrow; I need a secretary.” I nodded. Someone like me didn’t deserve a life of just waiting to die. When Dominic eventually tired of me, at least I would still have the ability to survive. But I never imagined this was the abyss Dominic had prepared for me.

I became Dominic Thorne’s personal secretary. My daily tasks were limited to serving tea and water, and preparing his three meals. And, satisfying him whenever he wished. Hundreds of people in the company, each looked at me with disdain. In the pantry, in the restrooms, colleagues constantly whispered that the new Miss Blackwood was a vixen. A shameless slut. Why did no one treat me as Dominic Thorne’s girlfriend? Because, at this very moment, his fiancée, Seraphina Vance, was sitting across from me. Her exquisite face was slightly distorted with rage. “Aria Blackwood, do you have no shame? You abandoned Dominic for money back then. Now you’re shamelessly throwing yourself at him for money again. How can there be a woman as despicable and low as you?” I clasped my hands tightly, trying my best to ignore her verbal abuse. Since I was doing something shameful, I deserved to endure everything that came with it. Seraphina grew even angrier seeing my silence. She splashed a cup of coffee onto my face. The scalding coffee ran from my face down to my neck and inside my clothes. I bore the burning pain without a sound. As if by doing so, the pain in my heart would lessen. Seraphina’s enraged face suddenly turned to one of hurt. Following her gaze, I saw Dominic Thorne walking towards us, looking anxious. He glanced at me, then handed me a tissue with a look of disgust. Then he gently wrapped an arm around Seraphina’s slender waist, his expression doting. “Seraphina, did she upset you?” Seraphina’s eyes were red, and she pouted, looking up at him. It was as if she, not I, was the one who had been doused in coffee. She leaned into Dominic’s arms, saying sweetly, “Dominic, why is this woman here? And what’s your relationship with her? You don’t still like her, do you?” I looked up at Dominic, a flicker of hope rising in my heart. He scoffed, gently flicking Seraphina’s nose with his finger. “Silly girl, what nonsense are you talking about? What is she to me? Even if every woman in the world died, I wouldn’t spare her a glance.” “Right now, she’s just a servant by my side, here to atone for her sins.” Pain radiated from all directions. My chest felt as if it were crushed by ten thousand pounds of stone. My face suddenly felt icy cold. Dominic snorted. “Who are you crying for with that pathetic look? You’re bad luck. Get out of my sight.” Like someone granted a reprieve, I fled in disarray. Dominic’s driver followed me in the car and said, “Miss Blackwood, Mr. Thorne asked me to take you to the hospital.” Hah! What was this? A slap, then a sweet treat? I stubbornly continued walking. The driver followed behind. “Miss Blackwood, please get in. We’re all just trying to make a living, don’t make it harder for me.” I stopped. Yes, we were all just people forced by circumstances. Why make things difficult for each other? At the hospital, the doctor prescribed me ointment. I also took the opportunity to visit my mom in the special care ward. I had to admit, money truly was a good thing. Not only was Mom out of the ICU, but she even had moments of lucidity. However, her memory was always a bit jumbled. Sometimes she would revert to before our family went bankrupt, holding my hand and asking, “How are things with Dominic, honey? He’s such a good boy, don’t be too hard on him, okay?” Other times, she’d go back to after Dad’s death, clutching me and sobbing, “Aria, your father and I are so sorry. Your dad is gone, what’s the point of me still being alive…” Dr. Miller called me into his office and said, “Miss Blackwood, your mother’s condition is improving now. You should visit her more often; she keeps mentioning your name when she’s lucid.” “In another year or so, she might even be able to continue her treatment from home.” I bowed gratefully to the doctor. I had been waiting five years for this day.

That evening, Dominic Thorne, utterly drunk, was brought to my place by his driver. The moment he entered, he pulled me into his arms, carefully cradling my face. “Aria Blackwood, is this really you? Is this really you?” His fingertips brushed over the fading red marks on my face, asking, “Does it hurt? Does it still hurt?” I shook my head. “But I hurt so much. Aria Blackwood, it hurts so much right here.” He pointed to his chest, and his usually cold eyes were actually misted with tears. Drunk Dominic was like the Dominic from before we broke up. His soft hair brushed against my cheek, exposing a side of him I rarely saw. One moment he was hurt, the next angry, then helpless, then ruthless. At that moment, our hearts felt closer than ever. In the middle of the night, he sobered up enough. He roughly pulled me to him, tormenting me as if in revenge. He hovered over me, relentlessly mocking me. “Aria Blackwood, look how pathetic you are now? The former Miss Blackwood, you can’t live without money, can you?” When the storm passed, he got up and went to the bathroom. As he left, he didn’t forget to say to me, “Aria Blackwood, you’re so dirty now.” I took a deep breath, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. Wasn’t the current Aria Blackwood indeed someone who couldn’t live without money? When Dominic left in the morning, he told me, “Don’t come to the office today. Come back when the marks on your face are gone.” I thought he was concerned about me. But then I heard him say, “The way you look now, it disgusts me.” I looked at myself in the mirror and felt disgusted too. For money, I was sleeping with a man who despised me. Even though I knew he was doing it to humiliate me, I still had to force a smile. During this time, I had countless thoughts. If I had told Dominic the truth back then, what would we be like now? Then I shook my head again. Dominic wasn’t obligated to me. Why should he sink into the mud with me? Just because he loved me?

A few days later, Seraphina Vance found me. She haughtily told me, “Aria Blackwood, Dominic and I are getting married. From today on, you’ll be with me. Help us prepare for all the wedding arrangements.” I looked at Dominic. The moment our eyes met, he showed a hint of impatience. “Why are you looking at me? Seraphina is Thorne Inc.’s future lady boss, just do what she says.” My heart ached as I nodded. He was bound to get married and have children eventually. Why was I still so sad? Seraphina was very invested in her wedding to Dominic. From major details like the hotel and emcee, down to minor ones like nail designs. She made me accompany her, comparing one option after another. Everything was already perfectly exquisite, yet she always felt something was missing. Finally came the day Seraphina was to try on her wedding gown. Early in the morning, we arrived at Harbor City’s largest bridal shop. When I got there, Seraphina was already wearing a wedding gown with a long train, and not far away, Dominic was distractedly fiddling with his phone. Seeing me, Dominic’s face immediately darkened. Seraphina, on the other hand, looked triumphant. She asked me, “Aria Blackwood, what do you think?” “It’s great, very beautiful.” She rolled her eyes at me and told the sales assistant, “This one isn’t fancy enough. Get me that one.” She pointed to a mermaid-style gown adorned with tiny scattered diamonds. Dominic and I looked at that dress simultaneously, and both froze. Five years ago, I had pulled Dominic past a bridal shop. I pointed to a similar mermaid gown and said, “Dominic Thorne, when we get married, I’m going to wear that dress. I want to show off my bombshell figure, make sure everyone knows you, Dominic Thorne, hit the jackpot marrying a gorgeous woman like me!” Dominic put his arm around me, his face full of adoration. “Whose ‘gorgeous woman’ are you? No manners.” He glanced at the price of the dress and said, “Looks like I’ll have to work hard to earn money for a wedding dress, or I won’t even be able to marry my wife.” Now, his assets were enough to buy the entire bridal shop. Unfortunately, everything had changed. Dominic stopped Seraphina. “Don’t wear that one, it’s ugly. Change to that one.” He pointed to an off-the-shoulder, floor-length gown not far away. The sales assistant quickly praised it. “Mr. Thorne has excellent taste! This gown is a handmade designer piece. Only one in the world, truly unique.” Seraphina’s heart swelled with delight. She immediately had the sales assistant take her to the fitting room. I followed her. When we came out, the mermaid gown was gone. It must have been bought by someone else. I hadn’t expected it to disappear so quickly, in just a moment. Well, who would wait around forever? Still, a part of my heart felt a little lost. After leaving the bridal shop, they went to dinner. Seraphina no longer wanted me to follow them. I went to the hospital to see my mom. Her lucid periods were becoming more frequent, and she had even accepted the reality of Dad’s passing. She held my hand, her face full of tenderness. “Aria, you’ve suffered so much all these years. It’s all because your mom was a burden.” I leaned gently into her arms, acting like my old self. “Mom, don’t talk about burdens. Just get well soon, okay? I miss your homemade chicken pot pie. You wouldn’t believe how many I’ve tried these past few years, none of them were authentic.” A long-lost smile appeared on my mom’s face. “You, you’re still a little greedy cat. I’ll make it for you once I’m out of the hospital.”

Coming home from the hospital, I saw the lights on in my house. Dominic Thorne sat on the sofa, intently working on files. Seeing me enter, he closed his laptop. He grabbed a bag beside him and tossed it to me. “Put this on.” I caught the bag. Inside was the mermaid wedding gown I had seen at the bridal shop earlier today. I looked up at Dominic, and his eyes were filled with expectation. “Aria Blackwood, go put it on. Please, be a good girl.” Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. “Dominic, please don’t make me wear it, okay? I beg you!” At least, not while we were in this kind of relationship. Dominic roughly pulled me towards him, mercilessly tearing at my clothes. “Aria Blackwood, have you forgotten what our relationship is now? Have I been too lenient with you? Now, I order you, put it on.” I clutched my chest, crying as I begged Dominic, “Please, Dominic Thorne, find another way to punish me. I can’t take it anymore, I really can’t.” Dominic’s eyes were bloodshot. “Another way? What else do you have besides this body now? Don’t worry, Aria Blackwood, when I’m tired of you, I’ll naturally give you a sum of money and throw you away like a used rag.” “Do you… do you hate me that much?” Dominic froze at my words. For the first time, his eyes showed confusion and panic. “Aria Blackwood, if you could do it all over again, would you still break up with me?” I never expected him to ask that question. I answered without hesitation, “If it were the same situation, yes, I would.” Dominic snatched the wedding dress from my hands, took out a pair of scissors, and shredded it. Then, still not satisfied, he stomped on it several times. “Aria Blackwood, you’re truly pathetic. It serves your family right for going bankrupt, serves your dad right for dying, serves your mom right for getting sick. A woman like you shouldn’t even exist.” He stormed out, slamming the door. I looked at the scattered white shreds and fallen diamonds on the floor. It was like the heart in my chest. Slammed hard onto the ground. In the morning, I was woken on the floor, covered in shreds of wedding dress, by a sharp ringing. “Miss Blackwood, please come quickly, your mother is dying.” Ignoring the aches all over my body, I quickly sat up and asked, “What did you say? Dr. Miller, are you kidding me?” The other end of the line fell silent for a moment.

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I was strolling through the mall when a middle-aged woman suddenly lunged out and slapped me across the face. “You home-wrecker!” she shrieked. “I’ll kill you! I’ll absolutely kill you!” Stunned, I clutched my stinging cheek, staring in disbelief at the expensively dressed woman. 1 “Who are you calling a home-wrecker, lady? You’ve got the wrong person!” I finally managed to retort. But that just made her wilder. She grabbed my hair, pinching me hard, all while screaming that I was a mistress and beckoning passersby to witness the spectacle. Confused onlookers pointed fingers, but no one stepped in to help. I opened my mouth to protest, but then I suddenly remembered articles I’d seen on GoodNovel about how human traffickers often use this exact tactic to abduct women. Oh my God. This was a human trafficker! Falling into the hands of traffickers? That’s a fate worse than death. If that’s my destiny, I’d rather take her down with me right here, right now. At least I’d be eliminating one of them. Despite her expensive clothes, her hands were large and calloused, clearly from years of manual labor. That solidified my suspicion even more. So, instead of arguing, I waited for her to speak, then lunged, grabbing a handful of her hair. I went all out, like a damn wildcat, fighting for my life. “Ah—” The expensively dressed woman never expected me to fight back. In her twisted mind, a young girl like me would be too embarrassed, too panicked. She probably thought I’d just cry and try to explain myself. She never saw *this* coming. I yanked her hair so hard, her grip on me loosened, and her knees buckled. She nearly collapsed. I seized the opportunity, twisting her head back, my elbow locked firmly around her neck. The middle-aged woman shrieked in terror, her face beet red. “What are you doing, you bitch! You seduced my husband, and now you dare to hit me? Someone, quick! Come help me beat this home-wrecker!” “What a waste, a young girl like you, being a homewrecker. Let that woman go!” “Yeah, how could you be like that?” “Look at her, dressed so provocatively, crop top and all, she’s definitely trouble.” The onlookers buzzed with chatter, most just there for the show. But then a few “kind-hearted” people actually stepped forward, ready to intervene on Brenda’s behalf. I wasn’t sure if these people were her accomplices, but I knew if they got any closer, I was done for. Without a second thought, I ripped the metal hair stick from my hair. I was incredibly grateful that day, for the first time ever, that I’d chosen a heavy, decorative metal hair stick to go with my outfit. Without hesitation, I plunged the hair stick into the woman’s thigh. She let out a bloodcurdling scream. “Stay back! Come any closer and I’ll kill her!” Blood streamed down the woman’s pants, startling everyone. They recoiled in horror, the scene rapidly escalating from a ‘homewrecker brawl’ to what looked like a full-blown assault. “Ah! Ah! Help! Help me! This crazy woman!” Brenda shrieked, terrified. But I just smirked, a chilling, almost manic grin spreading across my face, like someone who’d just escaped the asylum. “You’re screaming for help, but why not call the police? I can help you with that.” I whispered into Brenda’s ear, just loud enough for everyone around to hear. “What’s wrong? Got something you don’t want the cops hearing about?” At that, Brenda’s face flushed crimson. She nervously averted her eyes and stammered, “You’re full of crap, you homewrecker! How dare you be so arrogant? Oh my God, is there no justice? I stood by my husband, eating ramen and working our butts off at flea markets, just to scrape by. We finally made something of ourselves, and then he throws away all our hard work on *you*! A five-thousand-dollar purse? He probably didn’t even blink!” Brenda’s mind worked fast. She knew exactly what would tug at people’s heartstrings. Clearly, she was experienced. Sure enough, her words instantly garnered some sympathy. “A homewrecker being so arrogant? Don’t be afraid, everyone, let’s go up and grab her, strip her clothes—” An elderly woman, who had been watching from the sidelines with her grocery bags, fumed, hands on her hips, spewing insults, clearly trying to manipulate the crowd, to turn public opinion against me. 2 But before she could finish, I grabbed Brenda’s head and slammed it, *hard*, against the clear glass barrier of the mall walkway. The sudden impact drained all the strength from Brenda’s body, and she crumpled to the floor. But I wasn’t done. I tightened my hold on her neck, glaring at the elderly woman in the crowd who was still trying to rally people against me. Every word the old lady uttered, I punctuated by slamming the suspected trafficker’s head against the glass once more. “Ah—Call 911! Quick, call 911—” A gash had opened on Brenda’s forehead, blood trickling down her face, a truly terrifying sight. She weakly begged the crowd for help. Everyone was shocked and slowly realized something was deeply wrong. Phones were already coming out to call 91

I actually wanted them to call. To get the police there faster, I slammed her head down again. One, two, three times, until blood was gushing from her forehead. Only then did I stop. “No! No! Help me!” Brenda was dazed, her vision blurring, feeling like she was about to pass out. “I’m a homewrecker? Strip my clothes off? You think I don’t know your trafficker tricks? First you slander me, then you abduct me. What the hell!” Feeling a surge of satisfaction, I whispered into Brenda’s ear. My voice was just loud enough for the onlookers to hear clearly. *Trafficker?* Hearing me, the crowd exchanged bewildered glances. Just then, mall security arrived, standing ten feet away, telling me to calm down. “Don’t come any closer! I don’t trust you! Who knows if you’re in cahoots with her, trying to abduct me? I’ve read novels where traffickers even impersonate police!” “Ma’am, please calm down. We’re mall security, not traffickers, and we’re not with them. Just calm down for a moment.” “Calm down my ass! Don’t you dare come any closer! If you do, I’ll take her down with me! I’d rather die than be trafficked off to some remote, godforsaken place to be a baby-making machine! You, yes, you! I don’t trust them, help me call 911!” I suddenly pointed at a pretty young woman, staring her down until she called for help. “Oh, okay.” The young woman, startled by my sudden command, nodded after a moment of愣, probably also suspicious. “You, call 911! Nobody leaves here until the police arrive!” I roared, doing my best impression of someone completely unhinged. I thought that would be the end of it, but it seemed the conspirators weren’t done with me. A middle-aged man, standing in the crowd, spoke up gravely, “Look at this girl, so manipulative. Go on, jump! Playing the victim, calling an innocent woman a trafficker, it’s sick! Someone, help her!” The onlookers listened to Mr. Davies, then looked at me, confusion flickering across their faces. I just bared my teeth in a smile, then, without warning, I grabbed Brenda’s head and slammed it against the glass once more. “Ah! Ah! No! Help!” I planted my foot firmly on Brenda’s instep, screaming at Mr. Davies: “Keep talking! Let’s see whose accomplice dies first, yours or mine!” “You… you’re talking nonsense! Who’s her accomplice?” Mr. Davies hadn’t expected to be targeted so directly. His eyes darted nervously, and he quickly started to backtrack. I was furious. Trying to morally blackmail me, huh? I could play that game too. So I screamed at him, my voice cracking, “I’m willing to jump to prove I’m not a homewrecker! Are *you* willing to jump? Come on, jump to prove you’re not her accomplice!” 3 Mr. Davies was taken aback, waving his hands frantically. “You, you’re crazy! Who said anything about jumping?” “You’re the one spouting off, calling me a homewrecker and accusing me of bullying her? You sound like you saw it all yourself, so confident! Come on, jump and prove it! Let’s go together! Don’t be scared!” I chuckled, my smile growing even more unsettling, unnervingly abnormal. “Yeah, the young lady is willing to jump, why don’t you?” A young guy filming with his phone chimed in, egging him on. Mr. Davies, clearly not expecting me to go to such extremes, backed away quickly, muttering curses under his breath, then turned and ran. Seeing him leave, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Just then, the police and firefighters arrived together. At my insistent demand, the firefighter accompanied me to the police station. Before leaving, I addressed all the onlookers: “When you upload those videos, please blur my face. Or at least put a beauty filter on me!” That evening, the police issued a statement, confirming that Brenda, the middle-aged woman, was indeed a human trafficker. I became a trending topic online. Everyone started calling me the ‘Chaos Queen’ or ‘Mad Glamour Girl,’ and netizens nicknamed me ‘Queen C.’ I didn’t really care about any of it. I never imagined that this unexpected incident would be a turning point in my life. On Monday, I went to the office, and my boss, Mr. Vance, specifically called me in. I thought my excellent work performance had finally caught his eye and I was due for a promotion. Instead, he presented two reports. One was a diagnosis for my bipolar disorder. The other, a diagnosis for my violent tendencies. That’s right, I’ve always had bipolar disorder. Normally, I seem just like anyone else, but if I’m bullied or provoked, I become extremely manic. Every time I have an episode, I have to hit someone. Unless I lash out, it feels like the incident isn’t truly over for me. I’d been on medication to control it for years, and I hadn’t had an episode since joining the company. Although, I knew keeping it a secret was wrong. “Um, Mr. Vance, I, I didn’t mean to hide it—” “You don’t need to explain. I have a better job offer for you. Five million dollars. Interested?” Five million dollars! My eyes nearly popped out of my head. I nodded without a second thought. It turned out Mr. Vance had a sister, Eleanor, who was incredibly soft-spoken. In college, she fell in love with a guy. Her family disapproved, so she secretly eloped with him. Eloping itself wasn’t the issue. If she’d been happy, the family would have eventually accepted it. But the man turned out to have severe violent tendencies. After they got married, he constantly beat her. Because she’d eloped, Eleanor was too ashamed to ask her family for help. Eventually, trapped and desperate, she jumped from a building to her death. Since it was ruled a suicide, the police couldn’t legally charge the scumbag. Mr. Vance couldn’t swallow that. Since the law couldn’t touch him for what he did to Ellie—they couldn’t even charge him, can you believe it?—he was going to use other means. “So, the five million is for me to—” “I want you to get close to Damian Thorne, become his girlfriend. Make his life hell, just like he did to my sister. After all, he got away with it legally, didn’t he?” Oh. I understood. I agreed to Mr. Vance’s request. After all, I’m a kind person, and I can’t stand scumbags. So, under Mr. Vance’s arrangements, I became the daughter of a newly rich family, successfully seducing Mr. Vance’s ex-brother-in-law, Damian Thorne. Damian, true to form, was the ultimate scumbag. He sweet-talked me into meeting his parents, calling it “my big chance to make a good impression.” Maybe I played the ‘desperate puppy’ a little too well, making him think he had me completely wrapped around his finger. “Babe, your big chance has arrived.” “Oh? What chance?” I raised an eyebrow, looking at Damian with feigned disinterest. The idiot actually thought I was hopelessly in love with him. He grinned, “It’s my mom’s birthday. Buy her a gold necklace, and there’s your chance to shine. Oh, and my sister will be there, so get her a gift too, a Gucci bag. And my little nephew, Leo, he loves Lego, so pick one up for him. My dad? He just likes cigarettes and liquor. You can get him some of that. Doesn’t have to be too fancy, just some good whiskey and three or four cartons of premium cigarettes. He’ll be thrilled.” Damian rattled off the list, completely dictating my purchases. 4 As soon as I heard it, I realized this wasn’t just a birthday celebration for his mom; it was like a tribute offering to their entire family. If it weren’t for the mission, I would have cussed him out, called him a total jinx, maybe even spit on him. “Of course,” I replied with a smile. “Don’t worry, I guarantee your parents will be completely satisfied.” Mr. Vance’s budget was generous, but the thought of spending so much on this family infuriated me. Scumbags weren’t worth my money. So, I conspired with my best friend, Chloe, to pull a switcheroo. The designer bag would be a knockoff, the toy bought from Wish. As for the whiskey and cigarettes, I’d buy the real stuff, but then empty the bottles and cartons at home, replacing them with cheap imitations. Mission accomplished, I arrived at their house with a pile of fakes. Damian’s family seemed genuinely convinced that Damian had me completely under his thumb. Their attitude towards me was cold, and they mocked me throughout dinner. “Cassandra, is it? What does your father think about you finding a boyfriend from Northwood?” Mrs. Thorne asked, her voice dripping with passive aggression. Northwood? Does that pay the bills? I rolled my eyes internally, about to say something, when Mrs. Thorne cut me off. “He must be thrilled. Someone from the countryside like you, suddenly rich, but deep down, you just don’t have the same pedigree as us established families.” Mrs. Thorne said, oozing superiority. Damn it, they live in some rundown block, practically a slum, and she thinks *she’s* got pedigree? I was so annoyed I almost laughed, but to ensure the mission went smoothly, I kept my plastered-on smile. “You’re absolutely right! My dad is ecstatic! He’s always dreamed of me marrying a man from Northwood.” “I’m his only daughter, so all our family assets will eventually be mine. And what’s mine, of course, is Damian’s.” “You’re right about everything, Auntie.” “The dinner bill? Auntie, how could I let you pay? It’s on me.” I played the dutiful, humble girlfriend, making sure Damian’s family felt completely served and satisfied. Mrs. Thorne, in particular, was quite pleased with me. “Cassandra, dear, we’re a very proper family. Before you marry into our family, you’ll need to sign a prenuptial agreement. One clause is that we’ll get the legal papers done first, then we’ll consider a wedding. And as for a dowry or any of those old customs? Please, it’s the 21st century, we’re beyond that.” *Heh.* I sneered internally, but nodded in agreement. And so, I moved into Damian’s house, beginning our pre-marital cohabitation. On the second day of living with Damian, I started cozying up to the neighbors. When they learned I was Damian’s girlfriend, they all subtly, or not so subtly, urged me to break up with him. Especially Mrs. Peterson from across the hall, who clutched my hand and said bluntly, “Honey, this family isn’t good people. You need to run, take an old woman’s advice.” I just smiled and assured her I’d be fine. Adding silently to myself, *Don’t worry, Grandma. I’m no saint either.* After moving in, Damian tried to get intimate with me, but I slipped him a sleeping pill every night, so he never got the chance. Damian was easy to handle; his family, however, was a whole other level of trouble. They were a family of oddballs, treating me like a maid. Especially his sister, Paige, who brought her boyfriend, Marcus, to stay and even demanded I wash his underwear. *Hmph!* I smirked at the overflowing laundry basket, thinking of the packet of itching powder in my bag. That night, Marcus, fresh in his newly laundered underwear, jumped up and started tearing around the house, yelling for half the night. Apparently, he swelled up so badly, and even Paige, who’d been intimate with him, ended up in the emergency room. The hospital couldn’t find anything wrong. After a day on an IV drip, they slunk home, embarrassed. The incident should have been over, but thanks to my deliberate ‘leaks,’ the whole complex knew Paige and her boyfriend ended up in the emergency room after… well, after their private time. Paige was too mortified to leave the house. “Bro, it has to be that bitch! She’s the one who spread it around! I can’t even show my face!” Damian immediately glared at me. The scumbag had already condemned me. I rolled my eyes internally but maintained an innocent expression, saying, “It wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything!” Mrs. Thorne, meanwhile, fanned the flames. “It has to be her! We don’t gossip! Son, women like her don’t listen unless you hit them!” Fueled by Mrs. Thorne’s incessant prodding, Damian finally snapped and lashed out at me. “Bitch, watch your damn mouth!” Damn it, I wanted to hit him back right then and there, but I forced myself to endure it. Damian was stronger than me, and with his entire family living under one roof, I was at a disadvantage. So, I swallowed my anger, knowing I’d get my revenge eventually. Of course, while I waited for my chance, I made sure to parade my bruises around the complex, solidifying the neighbors’ impression of Damian’s domestic abuse. Sure enough, the neighbors started looking at Damian’s family with disdain. Even the building security guards would mutter under their breath, ‘What a jinx,’ whenever Damian’s car pulled up. This infuriated Damian, and the first thing he did when he got home was try to hit me. “Bitch, have you been running your mouth again?” Damian pulled out his belt, ready to strike. I feigned a terrified scream. Damian chased me, and as I ran, I started knocking over furniture. The TV, no problem. The air conditioner, the dining table, everything I could see, I shoved over. Sometimes I wasn’t fast enough, and Damian’s belt lashed me a few times. Damn it, that made me even angrier, so I maneuvered myself behind Mrs. Thorne. Using Mrs. Thorne as a human shield – I couldn’t overpower Damian, but his mother? Absolutely. Mrs. Thorne got hit by Damian’s belt once and let out a bloodcurdling scream, like a banshee. Paige, who was unemployed, rushed out when she heard her mother’s cries. Seeing me using her mother as a human shield, she lunged at me in a rage. “Ah! Help! He’s killing me! Mrs. Peterson! Mrs. Huang! Mrs. Lee! Ms. Wu! Help me! Someone call the police!” I stuck out my leg, tripping Mrs. Thorne, then seized the chance to yank Paige Thorne by her hair, pulling her in front of me to shield myself from Damian’s belt. No choice but to use Paige. She was always on some crazy diet, barely ate anything, and was way lighter than her mom. A much easier human shield. “Bitch, let go of my sister!” Damian fumed, trying to grab me. I wouldn’t let him near me, so I decisively used the scrawny Paige as a target. “Bitch! Bitch! Let go! Bro, help me!” “Ow, ow, ow!” The living room wasn’t large, and as we played hide-and-seek, it was inevitable to step on the fallen Mrs. Thorne. I even managed to stomp on the old woman’s hand, hearing a satisfying *crunch*. 5 The scene was pure chaos. Finally, when Mr. Thorne returned, the police arrived, just in time. If the police hadn’t shown up by the time Mr. Thorne got home, I’d probably be dead. Fortunately, the neighbors came through.

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The Ungrateful Daughter-in-Law My hard-earned apartment, bought with my own efforts, was a problem for my future sister-in-law. “How can a girl buy a house? Shouldn’t she save that money for her brother to get married?” she’d scoff. She even threatened Liam, my younger brother. If he didn’t put her name on the deed, she’d never marry him. Mom, Sarah, exploded, “You ungrateful son, just *try* marrying her! I’ll make sure you regret it!” It was a long weekend, about two years after Liam graduated. He brought home a girlfriend named Chloe Miller. She was quite pretty, with a pure, innocent look, and she dressed stylishly. But she had a real knack for taking advantage. Mom asked me to pick them up from the airport for dinner. The moment she got into my car, Chloe’s eyes lit up, scanning everything. She blurted out to Liam, “Did your sister’s family buy her this car? A car like this must cost at least a few hundred thousand, right?” I smiled. “I bought it myself with my own money. It wasn’t cheap, about $80,000 all in.” I’d had it for years. I stopped relying on my family for living expenses back in college. I even sent some money to Liam every month when he was in middle school. Actually, our family was pretty comfortable, a solid middle-class household. My parents wouldn’t have had any trouble buying Liam and me homes and cars. But Grandpa Arthur always taught us, Liam and me, that you have to work hard for everything yourself to truly appreciate the meaning of happiness. So, from a young age, I had a talent for making money. By college, I was already financially independent and managing my own funds. “Wow, Avery, you’re amazing! You just bought such an expensive car like it was nothing,” Chloe gushed. “Unlike your brother, he’s been out of college for two years and still doesn’t have a car.” Her passive-aggressive comments made my blood boil. I really wanted to snap back, but I didn’t want to embarrass Liam. So I just said, “It’s alright. Here, have some fruit. I picked it up at the store on the way. You two should try it.” Seeing I wasn’t engaging, she quieted down for the rest of the ride, furiously tapping on her phone. She was probably blowing up my naive brother’s phone. She claimed she didn’t really like fruit, but when we got out of the car, I found almost all the fruit I bought was gone. The moment we arrived at the house, her eyes started darting around, taking in every detail. After dinner, she was back to her overly enthusiastic self. She grabbed my hand. She started grilling me: where I worked, how much I earned, how much I gave my parents each month, if I was dating anyone. It was like she’d completely stopped treating herself as an outsider after just one meal. Trying to keep the peace, I just said no. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to introduce her to my boyfriend, Ryan. It was more that I wasn’t convinced this girl would ever truly become part of our family. She immediately perked up and told me that I should find a rich boyfriend, one who would offer a huge dowry. Looks didn’t matter, she insisted. She said it didn’t matter if they were ugly or handsome; as long as they had money, everything else would follow. She said we, as children, should demand a lot for our dowry. Our parents raised us, and it wasn’t easy. Plus, there was Liam who needed support. I had never heard such demands come from a girl before. “So, Chloe, are you with Liam because our family is rich? And you’re going to give all your dowry to your parents?” “No way! Avery, don’t accuse me! Liam and I are truly in love. How could it be about that?” she said, looking like she was about to burst into tears. “Oh, the way you were talking, I thought you were interested in our money. My apologies, I’m not very good at small talk. Please bear with me. After all, we’re going to be family soon.” When I said “family,” her expression softened slightly. She then resumed her lecture. “Avery, don’t you give your salary to your family?” “I give my salary to my family every month to help my brother buy a house and get married,” she said, proudly raising an eyebrow. “You should also plan for your parents. Don’t spend all your salary. You should show filial respect to your mom and dad.” I just smiled, pursing my lips, and said nothing. The next day, I got home from work and noticed one of my designer bags was missing from my acrylic display shelf. I asked Liam, and he casually told me that Chloe had taken it when she went home earlier that day. She said she really liked that style and hadn’t been able to find it. “If she wanted it, why didn’t she buy it herself?” That bag was a gift from my best friend, Brooke. Liam, watching a ball game, simply shrugged. “It’s just a bag. You have so many on that shelf, and I barely see you carry that one. What’s the big deal? Just ask Ryan to get you a new one.” I was so furious my blood boiled. You just waltz into my room and take my bag, and *I’m* the one making a fuss? I went to find Mom. My parents were pretty hands-off with us, so they hadn’t said much about Chloe. Seeing how upset I was, Mom just tried to calm me. “Sweetheart, don’t be mad. It’s Liam’s first serious girlfriend, and his first time bringing someone home. Just let it go.” Then she transferred $50,000 to my PayPal. “Buy whatever bag you want. If it’s not enough, just ask for more.” I was about to say, “It’s not about the money, Mom! Taking something without asking is stealing!” But she was already on a FaceTime call with her sisters. Fuming, I could only vent in a SnapChat group with Ryan and Brooke. **Avery:** That idiot brother of mine, I don’t know where he dug up this girlfriend. She’s not even married into the family yet and she’s already stolen the bag you gave me last month, @Brooke! **Avery:** I’m so mad, so mad! **Avery:** [frustrated rage emoji] **Avery:** [power punch gif] **Avery:** [furious scream emoji] **Brooke:** Is that the girl you were telling me about yesterday, the one who gives all her salary to her parents? **Brooke:** I was shocked when I heard that. How is a girl in the 21st century still being manipulated like that by her family? **Brooke:** LOL, she’s a legend! Go future sister-in-law! **Ryan:** In a meeting. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow. Don’t get yourself worked up. The next time I saw Chloe, she was two months pregnant. Her entire family – a whole parade of aunts, uncles, cousins, and her parents and brother – came to our house to discuss the dowry. They brazenly demanded $1.88 million for the dowry, an $88,000 “name-change fee,” and $180,000 for a full gold jewelry set. The total came to $2.148 million, but they said “four” sounded unlucky, so they rounded it up to a “lucky” $2.18 million. My parents didn’t find the amount exorbitant. They had already prepared a house and a commercial property for both Liam and me. Plus, they’d set aside $2 million in cash for each of us to start our own families. But the Millers’ demand was that all the cash had to be deposited into *their* bank accounts. They claimed the $1.88 million was for the years they spent raising Chloe. The additional $88,000 was for “care fees” for their relatives. I casually piped up from the side, “What about her personal dowry then?” Mr. Miller immediately launched into a lecture: “You’re just a girl! What business do you have speaking when adults are talking? You have no manners!” It clicked for me: the lecturing was hereditary. My mother’s face instantly dropped when she heard him. Her cheerful smile vanished. “Our daughter can say whatever she wants. We come from a family of scholars; we don’t follow such outdated, feudal customs.” Mrs. Miller, however, sensed trouble and worried they might lose the deal. She quickly tried to smooth things over, forcing a laugh. “Oh, there will be a personal dowry! We’ve prepared some homemade honey from our family farm. It’s excellent for beauty and health. You can’t find pure honey like this in the city anymore!” My parents and I exchanged glances, saying nothing. A classic scam, trying to get everything for nothing. The Millers, worried that Chloe’s pregnancy would become more obvious as time went on, and wanting to avoid gossip, arranged for the wedding to happen at the end of the next month. My parents had already prepared a house for each of us, and the prime school district apartment was meant to be Liam and Chloe’s marital home. Chloe demanded that her name be on the deed, and Liam readily agreed. My parents didn’t say much, just hoping the two of them would lead a happy life together. Since the apartment had only recently been renovated, and considering Chloe’s pregnancy, my parents suggested she stay with us at our current home to rest. At this time, Dad was away on a business trip, and Mom was going back to our hometown to care for Grandpa Arthur and Grandma Alice. So, it was just me, Liam, and Chloe at home. And as expected, trouble soon arrived. Living together, Chloe’s antics were bound to start. For example, while I was in a work meeting, my phone kept ringing, one call after another. I thought something terrible had happened. But it was just Chloe. She was hungry and wanted sandwiches from the downtown deli. She demanded I go buy them and bring them over. I told her to order delivery, but she said she didn’t trust delivery drivers, fearing they might add something to her food that would harm the baby. I told her I was in a meeting and couldn’t leave, and she should ask Liam to go. She said Liam didn’t have a car, so it was inconvenient for him to go. She then suggested I should let him drive my car from now on, so she wouldn’t have to call and order me around. Ah, so *that’s* what she was angling for. I said, “If you want him to drive me to and from work every day, and be available at my beck and call, then sure, I’ll give him the car keys. It would be great to have a free chauffeur.” She clicked her tongue. “Why don’t you just buy another car for yourself? Liam has to work every day; he wouldn’t have time to be your driver.” “My money doesn’t grow on trees. I can’t just buy a new car or give away my old one whenever you say.” “How about *you* buy me a new car? Then I’ll let you two have this one.” With that, I hung up. She immediately went crying to Liam, claiming I wouldn’t bring her food, that I wanted to starve her and her baby. She said that if I dared to give her attitude before marriage, who knew how I’d torment her afterward. She didn’t mention a single word about the car.

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I was just a struggling guy, and the only reason a rich heiress like Seraphina Vance would ever give me the time of day was because I had a face that perfectly mirrored the man she truly wanted. In private, Seraphina would call me ‘husband.’ In public, they’d mock me as her stand-in, her cheap knock-off. And she? She’d just stay silent. I didn’t care about any of that. Not until the kidnappers made her choose between us, and she didn’t hesitate to pick him. A bitter, desolate laugh escaped me. I pressed my chest against the barrel of the thug’s gun, an act of defiant surrender, and plunged into the crushing embrace of the deep, dark sea. Later, I heard she searched for me like a madwoman. **1** When Seraphina Vance called, I was hauling heavy sacks at the warehouse. It was half an hour later before I even saw her missed call. I called her back. Her voice, when she answered, was laced with irritation. “Liam, what is this? Haven’t I told you to return my calls within five minutes, no matter what?” “Sorry, my phone wasn’t on me just now,” I explained, wiping sweat from my face. “Don’t give me those pathetic excuses. You know I hate them. Now, immediately, bring some milk tea to the Grandview Hotel, Suite 305. I’ve sent you the list.” Seraphina hung up before I could reply. I didn’t even have time to change out of my work clothes. With Mr. Jenkins, my foreman, cursing at my retreating back, I rushed to buy the teas and sped to the suite. I pushed the door open just a crack, and the peals of women’s laughter spilled out. “Seraphina, it looks like your boyfriend isn’t much of a go-getter. What time is it? He can’t even run a simple errand right.” “Oh, please. Don’t lower Seraphina’s standards. Liam isn’t a boyfriend. He’s just a plaything, Julian Maxwell’s bargain-bin version. Besides looking alike, they have absolutely nothing in common—not his status, not his aura.” “Don’t be so harsh. Liam’s been with Seraphina for three years. He’s put in the time, hasn’t he? He deserves some credit for sticking around.” The girlfriends cackled together, a picture of perfect harmony. Through their laughter, I heard Seraphina’s cool, indifferent voice. “He’s just a stand-in. Is he truly worth so much of your precious conversation?” I swallowed the bitter ache that surged in my chest. I waited for their chatter to die down before pulling myself together and stepping inside. The room fell silent the moment I entered. I placed the milk teas on the table, forcing a smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting. They’re still cold, exactly as you ordered.” They didn’t respond, each grabbing a cup. They pursed their perfectly made-up lips, sipping the pearls. I looked at Seraphina. “Seraphina, I won’t interrupt your girls’ night. I’ll wait outside for you.” She mumbled an acknowledgment, but her eyes flickered with a faint, almost imperceptible hint of guilt. I smiled, a hollow gesture, and walked out. The door didn’t close completely, and the teasing voices immediately resumed, now tinged with undisguised contempt. “Look at his clothes, so worn out, so… *unfashionable*. Only someone straight from a construction site would dress like that. Zero class.” “Liam’s still working construction? My God, Seraphina, you give him five grand a month, and it’s not enough?” “I heard he has a lot of dead weight at home. His foster father is practically a walking pharmacy, barely clinging to life with all his meds.” “Seraphina, I’m telling you, break up with him now. Being with him is embarrassing for you. Oh, right, I heard Julian Maxwell is coming back. Maybe it’s time for this fake to finally disappear.” My fists clenched. My heart ached with a familiar bitterness. None of Seraphina’s friends ever respected me. In their eyes, I was just a loyal pet, a simpering lapdog she could call and dismiss as she pleased. I didn’t care what others thought. But Seraphina? She thought the same way. Downstairs, in the hotel lobby, I found a spot to wait. I turned my phone’s volume up to the max, terrified of missing another call. About half an hour later, Seraphina and her friends descended in the elevator. Enduring their hostile glances, I walked up to Seraphina. “Do you need me to drive you home?” I offered. Before Seraphina could even open her mouth, Bianca immediately shot back with a snide remark. “Of course she does! Seraphina’s taking us to meet Julian. Come on, you can see the difference between the original and the cheap imitation for yourself.” “Taking *him*? Aren’t you worried he’ll just be in the way?” Seraphina snapped coldly at Bianca, then turned to me. “You can head back. I should be home tonight.” **2** I let out a sigh of relief and returned to Seraphina’s apartment. But no sooner had I laid down, less than ten minutes later, a new command arrived. “Liam, bring some snacks. I want candied nuts, and there are a lot of us, so buy plenty.” She sent me a pin. My budding drowsiness was instantly shattered. I rubbed my tired temples, resignedly dragging my weary body out the door to buy the nuts and deliver them to Seraphina. This time, the private room was larger and far more luxurious than the one from the afternoon. The attendant led me to the door before discreetly disappearing. I carried the bag of nuts inside, my eyes immediately finding Seraphina, seated in the center of the group. Beside her was the dazzling new star, Julian Maxwell, whose charisma was almost blinding. Tonight’s gathering was his. As I entered, numerous eyes swung my way. There was surprise. Undisguised scorn. And mocking laughter. A faint, unsettling unease stirred within me. Bianca, Seraphina’s friend draped in mink, let out a ‘puff’ of laughter. “Look at him, he actually came! Doesn’t he look like a pathetic, obedient lapdog?” She handed the phone, which she’d just used to SnapChat me, back to Seraphina. I saw the Truth or Dare game laid out on the long table in front of them. Seraphina had drawn the “Dare” card. Of course. This was all just a cruel joke. A wave of icy realization washed over me, chilling me to the bone. I looked at Seraphina, bewildered, my eyes holding pain, and a silent question. *Were you complicit in this mockery?* But she didn’t even glance my way. “Here are the nuts you wanted,” I said, a miserable smile on my face, preparing to leave. Julian Maxwell had been staring at my face since I walked in. Now, he suddenly spoke. “Wait. Since you’re here, why don’t you sit down and have a drink with us?” I frowned, about to refuse. Seraphina casually tossed the Dare card onto the center of the table, her eyes sweeping over me with a cool indifference. “If he tells you to sit, then sit. Don’t act like you’re out of your depth.” Several hands from behind me pressed down, forcing me into a chair. The next second, the entire bag of nuts was tossed back in front of me. “You won’t understand our conversations, so why don’t you peel the nuts for us?” My gaze met Julian’s, his eyes filled with thinly veiled amusement. Beneath his feigned pleasantries, I could sense the raw, undeniable malice. As a man, I understood his thoughts. Julian hated being compared to me but couldn’t openly say it. Even if everyone saw me as just a cheap imitation, he still felt debased by my very existence. I instinctively looked to Seraphina again. Hoping she would help me, defuse this situation. At least spare me this humiliation. But I was slapped in the face, yet again. Seraphina coolly tore open the nut packaging, poured them out, and pushed them towards me. “Julian asked you to peel them, so peel them. You’re just sitting around anyway, peeling nuts isn’t hard.” These were hand-peeling nuts, requiring individual effort. And I had bought five pounds of them. A dozen curious eyes fixed on me. Like watching a circus act, and I was the monkey pushed onto the stage. “You’re spending Seraphina’s money, living in Seraphina’s apartment, and Seraphina even takes care of your whole family. For that kind of generosity, you wouldn’t be unwilling to peel a few nuts, would you?” Bianca, the one in mink, blew on her freshly painted nails, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “If he were my kept man, I’d have kicked him out ages ago.” “Hahahaha.” The eyes around me grew even more mocking. Someone of my status, in their wealthy circles, was utterly insignificant. A kept bird in a gilded cage, a cheap little novelty to amuse them. How could I not recognize my own place? “Fine,” I conceded, picking up a nut and beginning to peel, carefully separating the meat into a small bowl. One after another, I couldn’t stop until Seraphina said so. My fingers were raw, skin splitting open, the cuts widening with every motion. Drops of blood stained each precious nut, a crimson mark on my forced offering. Just as the pain began to numb me, a hand reached out to stop me. “Liam, that’s enough peeling.” Seraphina meticulously picked out the blood-stained pieces, then, with an almost sickening indifference, offered the clean nut meats to Julian. A sweet smile graced her face. “Julian, these should be enough for you.” “Seraphina, are you feeling sympathetic?” Julian said, a knowing, half-mocking smile on his face, which suddenly shifted to outright disdain. “A plaything is just a plaything. You didn’t actually fall for his face, did you?” “Ridiculous! Why would I ever fall for some low-class construction worker? I just kept him around for entertainment, a distraction,” Seraphina retorted instinctively. She caught herself then, glancing sharply at me. But I simply lowered my head, tending to my raw fingers, pretending not to have heard a thing. The room erupted in laughter again. “Since Seraphina’s pleaded on his behalf, he doesn’t have to peel any more.” Julian opened a bottle of wine with a bottle opener and filled the glass in front of me. “Drink this. Consider it an apology.” Seraphina didn’t stop him this time. The others urged me not to be ungrateful. But I’m allergic to alcohol. Who would care? I gave a dismissive laugh, picked up the glass, and downed it in one gulp. The fiery liquid seared its way down my throat, making me nearly gag. I forced myself to swallow it all. Wiping my mouth, I stood up and left. **3** Seraphina’s calls came one after another as I lay in the emergency room, receiving an IV drip. After a few IV bags, the angry rashes covering my body finally began to subside. When morning light crept in, I returned home. Seraphina was in the living room, her face thunderous. “All I asked was for you to peel a few nuts! You’re so petty! I even came home early for you, what more do you want?” “I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep. Can we talk about this after I wake up?” I said, trying to keep my voice even. My calm words only seemed to fuel her anger. She shoved me hard. After a night of torment, my already weakened body crumpled. I stumbled and fell to the floor, my vision blurring, the room spinning. When my sight cleared, I saw Seraphina staring at the hospital discharge papers that had fallen from my pocket. *Alcohol Allergy.* That single sheet of paper felt like a sudden, brutal unveiling. Her face instantly paled. I slowly got to my feet, too tired to argue. But she approached me apologetically, taking my arm, her beautiful eyes misty. “Liam, please don’t be mad. When we’re out, I need to save face.” Yes, it was a stark contradiction. She looked down on me, yet couldn’t bear to let me go. Or, to be precise, she couldn’t bear to lose *this face* of mine. After all, she’d pursued Julian for five years with no success. I was just her fallback, the low-budget version. If she discarded me, who would offer her comfort? Suddenly, I understood Seraphina’s feelings for me. I was nothing more than a complete substitute. I was a fool for thinking that time might somehow breed genuine affection. If she hadn’t murmured Julian’s name in her sleep the night before, this dream might never have ended. “It’s fine, I understand,” I said, ever the understanding one. What was there to understand, anyway? I’d recognized the truth long ago. No matter how sweet and tender Seraphina was in private, in public, I was nothing more than a dog. A dog who couldn’t leave her. Three years ago, my foster father fell gravely ill, completely crippling our family’s finances. I dropped out of college, hiding it from everyone. I worked construction during the day and sang at bars at night. I was working myself to the bone, utterly exhausted, looking like a zombie. If I hadn’t been lucky enough to catch Seraphina’s eye, and if she hadn’t offered a lifeline, I’d probably have drowned in a much deeper abyss of despair, utterly spent from just trying to survive. So, yes, I should have been grateful to her. Seraphina squeezed my hand, her face filled with concern. “Liam, I’ll never let you suffer like this again.” **4** Those were her words. But the very next morning, when Julian Maxwell called, saying his film crew needed a stunt double and asking for my help, Seraphina immediately agreed. Only when I arrived on set did I realize they needed a double for Julian’s dangerous stunts. By the time I understood the situation, I was already made up and in costume, caught between a rock and a hard place. The scene involved a high-fall stunt. To ensure realism, the crew had built a ten-meter high platform. The actor had to fall backward, losing their footing. Even with a safety harness, it was still incredibly risky. “Action!” My scene partner shoved me hard. In the instant of my rapid descent, I saw Julian Maxwell and the assistant director calmly watching my performance on the monitor, a subtle, unsettling smirk playing on Julian’s lips. “Whirr…” The safety harness suddenly went taut, seizing up prematurely. I was suspended mid-air, several feet off the ground, the steel cables digging excruciatingly into my flesh. The prop team realized something was wrong and started walking towards me. But they were too late. The harness snapped, and I plummeted onto the crash mat. Seeing I wasn’t severely injured, the crew members simply walked away, unconcerned. There was no time to catch my breath. The assistant director grabbed his megaphone and declared that the previous take was no good, ordering me to reshoot immediately. Again and again. Either the fall angle was wrong, or my expression wasn’t quite right. This high-fall scene took me ten takes to get right. I was the one covered in scrapes and bruises. Yet the director patted Julian’s shoulder, commending him for his hard work watching the monitor all afternoon. **5** That evening, as filming wrapped up. Seraphina ordered hotel catering as a set visit. Everyone got a share, happily grabbing their food, grateful to be basking in Julian Maxwell’s reflected glory. I sat there, bandaging the cuts the harness had carved into my palms, the pain in my entire body making it impossible to stand immediately. A bottle of mineral water appeared before me. I looked up, meeting Seraphina’s smiling eyes. “Liam, you must be tired. Have some water. I’ll take you home later,” Seraphina said, her voice soft, laced with a faint concern. Noticing my injuries, she frowned. “What happened? Didn’t they say there wouldn’t be any problems? Liam, maybe I should take you to the hospital first.” Just as the words left her lips, Julian Maxwell’s voice chimed in from behind us. “Seraphina.” He held a drink Seraphina had bought for him, walking towards us with an elegant air. “Are you free tonight? I’d like to take you to dinner, catch up properly.” I scoffed silently, a tiny, bitter curve to my lips. Sure enough, Seraphina instantly forgot her previous words. “When do I ever *not* have time for you? Tell me, are we taking your car or mine?” “I’m inviting you, so of course we’ll take my car,” Julian replied with an easy smile. “Liam, you drive my car back.” Seraphina turned, placed the car keys in my hand, and then rose to walk away with Julian, shoulder to shoulder. They talked and laughed, not once looking back. I offered a dry, meaningless laugh. Of course, I knew exactly how it was. That sliver of affection she had for me. It was utterly worthless in Julian Maxwell’s presence. **6** My injuries were all superficial, nothing more than painful scrapes, so I didn’t go to the hospital. I showered and went to sleep. Unexpectedly, I woke up in the middle of the night with a fever. In a hazy state, I heard Seraphina return. She fed me a fever reducer, and I drifted back to sleep. It wasn’t until dawn, when I got up for water, that I saw Seraphina sitting on the sofa with her laptop, her eyes lifting to stare at me, cold and unfeeling. She seemed to have been up all night, faint dark circles beneath her eyes. “What’s wrong?” I reached out to touch her forehead. She flinched away, sneering. “Liam, I know you’re upset that Julian’s back. But I warned you when we signed the contract to know your place. Where did you get the audacity to think you could ever compare to him?” I had signed a relationship contract with Seraphina before we started dating, but I didn’t understand her words until she suddenly flung a few printed photos at me. They were screenshots from the news. Photos of Julian Maxwell and Seraphina dining out last night had been leaked, topping the trending list. The leaker explicitly stated that Seraphina had been in a long-term relationship, directly accusing Julian of being the other man, a home-wrecker. Just this wouldn’t have made Seraphina confront me. But one of the photos captured her car, which irrefutably linked her to me. And last night, she had personally handed me the keys. I rubbed my temples, weary. “Seraphina, I was there last night. But I had no idea you two were having dinner. It was a complete coincidence. I was just passing by a pharmacy to buy some medicine.” I showed her my payment history. Last night, I had bought saline solution and anti-inflammatory medication, stopping for a mere ten minutes. It was precisely this unfortunate coincidence that led to the misunderstanding. “Buying medicine? From the set to your place is fifteen kilometers. You pass countless pharmacies. Why *that* particular plaza? Do you really expect me to believe it was such a coincidence?” Seraphina scoffed, a dangerous glint in her eyes. I was speechless. The timing, indeed, was too perfect to explain. And I, once again, confirmed that Julian Maxwell was her red line. I was nothing. My heart went utterly cold. It all felt so pointless. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have gone there.” *Smack!* Seraphina’s slap stung my face. My apology had only fueled her rage. “A low-life construction worker like you, trying to undermine me? If I hadn’t been supporting you all these years, supporting your whole family of invalids and dependents, you’d have been dead in a ditch somewhere!” My face flushed white, then crimson. I exhaled slowly, forcefully. “Then let’s break up. End the contract.” My foster father’s condition was stable. My sister had graduated and started earning money. I no longer had to be this pathetic stand-in. **7** “You’re dreaming!” “Liam, you’re not going anywhere until I’m tired of you. Otherwise, I’ll make sure you repay everything you’ve taken from me over these past three years, with interest!” Seraphina snapped, then slammed the door as she left. I completely lost all strength, collapsing onto the sofa, unable to move for a long time. After our big fight, Seraphina stopped talking to me. She was a master of the silent treatment. In the past, I’d always been the one to humble myself, begging her to come back. But this time, I didn’t. The negative trending topics were suppressed overnight, and the storm died down. Julian Maxwell’s fans stopped threatening to unfollow him. Because Seraphina held a live broadcast, and in front of millions of online viewers, she vehemently denied having a boyfriend. I was merely a charity case she supported. She publicly revealed my family’s circumstances. Photos of my sickly foster father requiring long-term treatment, my sister receiving poverty subsidies and only daring to eat one dish per meal, and me working construction to support the family, all surfaced. With her eloquent words, she twisted our three years together into an act of pure compassion. And the only person she truly, ever loved was Julian Maxwell. With the sole daughter of the city’s wealthiest family publicly declaring her affection, even Julian Maxwell’s most devoted fans were utterly convinced. Seraphina’s immense wealth gave her the power to completely manipulate public opinion. But a prominent figure always draws criticism, and all that negative emotion needed an outlet. Julian’s fans, enraged that I’d tainted his reputation, followed the digital breadcrumbs, doxxed my real identity, and launched a furious campaign of retaliation. Rumors spread that I was morally corrupt, my character flawed. My phone was bombarded with hateful texts, making my life a living hell, day and night… they even sent a funeral wreath to my sister at college. I broke down. I called Seraphina, demanding to know why she had done this. She paused, then vehemently denied it. “Liam, I didn’t allow Julian’s fans to attack you. Don’t panic. I’m abroad with Julian for a business meeting right now. Wait for me to get back. I’ll handle everything.” “Just wait for me!” Julian. It was always Julian. I gave a tragic laugh, my heart turned to ash. **8** I no longer held any expectations for Seraphina. Yet, unexpectedly, one of her friends showed up at the factory looking for me. It was Bianca, the one always draped in mink. She asked me to meet for tea, but I refused.

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The city’s golden boy bit the dust. His stepmother offered me two hundred million dollars to mourn him as his widow for two years. My lips twitched into a smile so wide they almost cramped. Late that night, I was munching on snacks and binging an audio drama in the wake room. Suddenly, a voice echoed from the altar: “Haven’t you heard this chapter already? Why are you listening to it again?” 1 I graduated college, dirt poor and utterly miserable. Just as I was playing a beggar in a film crew, the powerful Mrs. Vivian approached me. “Harper, right? Two hundred million dollars. Mourn my stepson for two years. During this time, you must abstain from any romantic or sexual relationships, keep your heart pure, and sleep in the wake room every night.” All I heard was: “Two hundred million! Two hundred million! Two hundred million!” In the wake room, gazing at the towering portrait of Caleb, the city’s golden boy, my twitching smile finally settled a little. What a waste. Such a handsome guy. Why did he have to die so young? 2 On my first night, I bought some booze and snacks, planning to get acquainted with Caleb. I filled a glass, raised it towards the altar. “Thanks for giving me such a great job! Bottoms up!” “Oh? You’re quite a drinker, huh? I’ll have another with you!” … When I was pleasantly buzzed, a thunderous blast of music suddenly erupted outside. Caleb’s wake room was set up in the back garden of the villa, and the music was coming from inside the mansion itself. I peeked in and saw a dozen gorgeous guys clinking glasses and dancing wildly in the living room. Every single one of them was over six feet tall, brimming with youthful confidence. You wouldn’t find a lineup like this even at the hottest male model agency! Without thinking, I whipped out my SnapChat QR code. Just as I was about to move forward, a voice piped up beside me: “Sister-in-law, aren’t you supposed to be abstaining from… well, everything, during your mourning period?” Oh, it was Finn, Vivian’s biological son. He was Caleb’s half-brother, currently a junior in high school. This party of handsome guys must have been his doing. So they were all high schoolers?! My heart was practically doing a samba. What was I supposed to do? Finn unceremoniously shoved me back out. A moment later, I got a text from Vivian. [If you can also tutor Finn’s college entrance exam scores to a barely passing grade, I’ll give you another two hundred million.] Me: ? A barely passing grade, with three months until the exams… should be no problem, right? Soon, two hundred million dollars landed in my PayPal account, with the note: “Advance payment for Caleb’s widowhood and Finn’s tutoring.” My knees buckled for a few minutes. Did I save the Luo brothers’ lives in a past life or something? This life is freaking amazing! 3 Caleb’s death was an accident. He loved adventure, and during one expedition, he fell into a remote sea area. Rescue teams searched for seventy-two hours straight, only finding a strand of his hair and a small piece of scalp tissue. Experts detected shark saliva residue on it, concluding he had been eaten. With no heir to the Luo family, Vivian organized his funeral. A medium told her that Caleb could not rest in peace and needed a woman whose energy aligned with his to mourn him for two years, or else misfortune would befall the Luo Corporation. Vivian was notoriously superstitious and urgently sought me out, as my birth chart supposedly matched his. After Caleb’s death, Vivian’s ambition seemed to awaken. The Luo Corporation was in absolute chaos, but she braved the storm of controversy and ridicule to assume the chairmanship. Everyone expected her to fail, but she was surprisingly good at it, even signing a major project that Caleb had failed to secure. However, she seemed indifferent to Finn, even buying an apartment near her office for work, barely returning home anymore. So, when I told Finn, “Your mom wants me to tutor you,” he burst out laughing: “Vivian cares about my grades? Are you kidding me?” “She’s your mom, isn’t it normal for her to care about your studies?” He scoffed: “I’ll only say this once: I don’t need it. You just focus on being a widow, don’t meddle.” ? How is this meddling? Two hundred million dollars worth of meddling, and you expect me not to care? 4 To kickstart my tutoring duties, I stayed up all night making him a study plan. The next morning, he tore it into shreds. “Seriously, why are you so hot-headed at such a young age?!” “Harper, don’t waste your time on me. I’m busy.” I knew it. Busy partying, busy fighting, busy sweet-talking his girlfriends. I looked it up online. To deal with a snot-nosed punk, you have to use a psychological approach. So I swallowed my anger and presented the breakfast I’d made earlier: “Here, you can’t skip breakfast.” He gritted his teeth, clearly annoyed: “Granny Sister-in-law, could you please stay away from me?” I gritted my teeth too. Calling me “Granny Sister-in-law,” huh? Refusing to eat, huh? I stood on my tiptoes, pinched his chin, forced his mouth open, and shoved a whole hard-boiled egg in. Then, holding him in that position, I pressed him against the wall. “What do you want?” he mumbled, unable to move. I warned him: “You’re not going anywhere until you eat it.” He finally swallowed it obediently, then fled, looking thoroughly defeated. But once he was out of earshot, he still ground out: “You just wait!” 5 I waited, but he didn’t come back until dark. I lit an incense stick for Caleb, then went out searching. I heard from some guys at a bar that Finn had a fight scheduled and had left hours ago. I hailed a cab, blowing hundreds of dollars, and finally found him under a dilapidated overpass. The situation looked bad. Finn’s crew was slowly getting pummeled, and the other side hadn’t even unleashed their full power. Finn looked a little desperate. I waited until he was even more so, then I grabbed a sturdy branch from the ground and charged in. I easily pinned them under my feet. The fight ended with Finn’s side victorious. Finn and the opposing leader both stared, dumbfounded. “Hey, miss, are you his hired muscle?” The opposing leader, instead of being angry, had a glint in his eyes. I nodded: “No, I’m the tutor his mom hired.” “Miss, how much did they pay you? Can I poach you?” My eyes lit up: “How much are you offering?” Finn roughly pulled me aside: “She’s my sister-in-law, you can’t poach her!” 6 On the way back, Finn looked sullen. I felt like laughing: “Do you lose fights often? I’m not making fun of you, seriously.” “No! They just fought dirty! There were twice as many of them!” He spoke at double speed, clearly agitated. I patted his shoulder reassuringly, but he instinctively flinched, looking at me warily: “You’ve had training?” I paused, withdrawing my hand: “Yeah, when I was a kid, I was always getting picked on. To protect myself, I had to learn some self-defense.” He raised an eyebrow: “You got picked on?” “They beat me black and blue back then. I still have a scar on my forehead.” I pulled back my hair to show him. He glanced at it, and his gaze seemed to soften a little. I smiled at him, then looked away. Me, picked on? Not really. I was just interested, so I took an elective martial arts class in college. Who knew my talent was just off the charts? By the end of the semester, I could even take down the instructor. “How much is my mom paying you?” he asked again. “Two… two hundred million.” He practically roared: “Two hundred million?!” I shifted nervously to the side, my gaze flickering away. It’s just wildly over market value, right? *His mom* set the price, it wasn’t me asking for it. Did he have to be so shocked?! “She only gave you two hundred million, and you’re practically risking your life for her? Are you that desperate for money?! Harper, do you have any self-respect?!” Me: ? Wow, rich people’s insults are on a whole different level, huh? 7 Back at the villa, Finn followed me to the wake room and lit another incense stick for Caleb. He silently stared at Caleb’s black and white photo for a long time. I looked at the photo, then at him. The Luo family’s genes are truly powerful; both sons are exquisitely handsome, as perfectly crafted as if designed by a top-tier AI. If I could just date one of them in this lifetime, I’d die happy. Just as I was musing, Finn spoke, his voice hoarse: “Bro, I miss you.” These two brothers seemed to have a deep bond. Then he turned around, looking at me with that usual cocky swagger: “My brother doesn’t like noise. Keep it down in here.” “…” I nodded dutifully, pretending to agree. What a coincidence, I absolutely hate silence. What living person caters to a dead one? So every night, I held one-sided conversations with Caleb’s portrait until late into the night. Sometimes when I was tired, I’d play music or listen to an audio drama – anything but silence. Soon enough, Finn caught me red-handed. Seeing his speechless expression, I seized the opportunity to propose: “If you give me two hours every evening to tutor you, then I won’t have time to bother your brother, right?” A sly, fox-like grin touched the corner of the young man’s lips. He pulled out two science section practice tests for the college entrance exam, tossing one to me: “Let’s see who really needs tutoring.” The way he said it, he sounded so confident! Thanks to my extensive experience tutoring during four years of college, I hadn’t entirely forgotten my high school lessons. I confidently put down my pen, only to find Finn had already finished and was watching me with keen interest. I took his test, puzzled, and checked it against the answers. I was stunned. I scored 251 points, he scored 27

His tone was triumphant: “Not bad, ‘Teacher Harper,’ he smirked, ‘You’re only one point above ‘dumbass’ territory.’ ” While I felt insulted, this was a good thing! Getting a passing grade for the college entrance exam was practically a done deal now, wasn’t it?! I plastered on a smile, fawning: “Young Master Finn, I clearly underestimated you.” He glanced at the photo of him and Caleb on the table, his voice softening: “Before this, my brother was always the one tutoring me.” “…Your mom doesn’t know?” How could Vivian think her son couldn’t even get a passing grade? He chuckled softly: “Her? She wouldn’t care about me. But don’t worry, I’ll tell her this is all thanks to your tutoring. Consider it payment for helping me with that fight.” I pressed my lips together to suppress a grin. Seriously, it’s like fate is just *forcing* this two hundred million dollars on me! 8 Finn and I reached an agreement: if I really needed someone to talk to, I could talk to him. He had only one request: don’t bother Caleb. I nodded sincerely, looking at the young man’s exquisitely handsome face. I couldn’t help but tease him: “You know, constantly chatting with someone can lead to feelings, right?” He stiffened his neck, acting all proud: “Don’t worry, I’m not into ‘brother-in-law/sister-in-law’ romance tropes. And don’t forget: abstain from sex, keep your heart pure.” *Cough.* Couldn’t argue with him, so I just shut up. With the “barely passing grade” KPI out of the way, I got back to my lucrative career path. I’d always wanted to make a mark in the film industry. The path of an actress was long and arduous, but now that I had money, investing seemed perfect, didn’t it? I’d deeply researched the current film market: capital was too controlling, scripts were rushed, and it was all about ‘influencer’ actors, leading to abysmal returns on investment. This situation was commonplace. I dedicated over three months to value assessment and finally decided to invest in a martial arts detective series. However, the production company wasn’t just looking for investor money; they also wanted investor experience and connections. For a newcomer like me, they naturally wouldn’t risk it easily. So I pulled out the ultimate power card: Caleb. “I am Caleb’s wife. You’ve probably heard, I’m currently mourning him,” I stated matter-of-factly during negotiations. I had checked: information about Caleb online was scarce, mostly just labeling him as “the city’s golden boy,” “Luo Corporation CEO,” and “reserved and aloof.” Vivian had even instructed me to mourn him as his wife. So, my connection was, naturally, the Luo Corporation. The producer nearly choked on his own breath when he heard this: “We’d be honored to have your investment, Miss Harper!” Everything was set, and I was about to sign, when the producer suddenly brought news of a change of heart. I laughed, annoyed: “Who did you partner with?” Who could possibly be better than the Luo Corporation?! The producer handed me a business card. The name on it was “Cole.” Why did that sound so familiar? I dialed the number on the card. No answer. 9 A notification popped up: one hundred million dollars had landed in my PayPal account, with the note: [Final payment for tutoring Finn.] His college entrance exam results were out. Finn’s call came right after: “Harper, I scored… six hundred and fifty points.”

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I married the man I had secretly adored for seven years. For three years of our marriage, he brought different women home every night. It made me a laughingstock among our peers. Finally, I decided to let myself loose and started dating a younger man. Turns out, I stumbled upon a young scion from a prominent family, absolutely obsessed with me. He wasn’t after my money or status; he wanted *me*. He cried, begging me for a real commitment, a proper place in his life, again and again in bed. Seductive whispers and low groans echoed through the dimly lit living room, grating on my ears. The moment I pushed open the front door, I saw a torn dress in the foyer, fragments scattered. Down the hallway, women’s lingerie and a man’s dress shirt lay strewn on the floor. That light blue shirt was crumpled into a messy ball. I couldn’t be mistaken. I had personally picked it out for Julian Blackwood when we first got married. Looks like he couldn’t even wait a second, I thought, a bitter laugh in my throat. The two in the living room were still at it. There was no need for me to stand there and eavesdrop. After flipping on the living room light, I walked straight towards my own room. I’d only taken two steps when I heard a woman’s startled cry. Following the sound, my gaze met Julian’s. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment in his eyes at being caught. I wasn’t particularly close to them, only close enough to see Julian’s bare torso, his muscles well-defined, his physique impressive. A few red scratch marks marred his chest, likely a result of their intense passion. I tore my gaze away and headed for the stairs. Just as I was about to go upstairs, Julian’s nonchalant voice drifted after me: “Why are you back so early today?” If it were before, I might have retorted, “Otherwise, how would I have caught you in the act?” But I was used to it by now. After all, I couldn’t even remember how many times I’d “caught him cheating” in our own home. After a long, busy day, I was utterly exhausted and had no desire to speak further with Julian. I simply mumbled, “Work wasn’t too heavy at the office today.” I assumed Julian wouldn’t press the issue, but to my surprise, he was completely out of character today. “Let’s go to dinner this weekend. There’s a new, upscale French bistro that just opened; I hear it’s quite good.” If my mind had been hazy with sleepiness just moments before, his words instantly snapped me awake. I couldn’t quite make out Julian’s intentions. Inviting his wife to dinner this weekend, right in front of the woman he’d just been with—the audacity of that man! A surge of dark amusement possessed me. I turned to look at Julian, meeting his slightly smiling eyes. “Alright.” Almost immediately after I spoke, I could feel the woman’s intense stare from the sofa, impossible to ignore. She had an incredibly innocent face, though the seductive glint in her eyes hadn’t quite faded. She wore an oversized, baggy top, and her exposed neck and collarbone were covered in hickeys. She looked like she’d just been thoroughly ‘taken care of.’ When our eyes met, hers held a mix of pride and triumph, along with a hint of jealousy. My acceptance of Julian’s invitation had probably ruffled her feathers. I found it rather amusing. She was clearly young; her little schemes were transparent, written all over her face. I decided to add fuel to the fire, dropping, “You know, out of all the women he’s brought home, you’re my favorite type.” I could literally see Julian’s face darken. The girl’s face went stark white as she heard my words, her eyes welling up, on the verge of tears. I frankly had no interest in witnessing the classic melodrama that would follow. It would simply be Julian embracing her, offering comfort, and then the two of them tumbling back into bed. Every time Julian brought a woman home, he would restore everything in the house to its original state before I woke up the next morning. I truly didn’t need to worry about it. After all, no matter what my attitude was, Julian would never change because of me.

Early that Saturday, Julian sent me the restaurant location. After finishing my tasks at hand, I headed straight there, still dressed in simple work attire. Even light makeup couldn’t hide the fatigue under my eyes; I was the kind of person who’d blend into any crowd. The moment I stepped into the restaurant, I saw Julian. He sat alone by the window, idly stirring his coffee, an inherent aura about him that seemed to set him apart from his surroundings. For a fleeting second, the image of the spirited, dashing young man from my high school memories overlapped with the figure before me. Seraphina’s arrival abruptly pulled me back to reality. She wore a soft, feminine long dress, her face immaculately made up. She walked directly to Julian’s side, looped her arm through his, and snuggled intimately into his embrace. They leaned into each other, looking perfectly matched, like the leads of a romantic drama. A dense, throbbing pain bloomed in my heart. Even though this wasn’t the first time I’d seen Julian intimate with another woman, and I was used to his infidelity, my heart still tasted bitter. Perhaps it was because their entwined figures so closely resembled how Julian and I used to be together, only the heroine of the story had changed. My arrival, of course, didn’t escape Seraphina’s notice. She shot me a triumphant, slightly provocative gaze, like a child showing off a beloved new toy. Noticing Seraphina’s constant stares in my direction, Julian naturally realized I was there. A rare flicker of awkwardness crossed his face as he gently removed Seraphina’s hand from his arm, then called out, “Eleanor, over here.” I walked over and sat directly opposite them. An awkward silence fell between the three of us. Julian was the first to break the awkward silence, introducing Seraphina. “Eleanor, this is Seraphina, my secretary.” Upon hearing the word “secretary,” Seraphina visibly stiffened, her face darkening. I was about to speak, but Seraphina cut me off. “Hello, Ms. Vance. Julian talks about you often.” Her tone was an overt declaration of ownership. “My apologies, this is the first I’ve heard him mention you,” I said, my voice flat, my face devoid of expression. Seraphina’s face instantly went stark white. She looked pitifully at Julian, as if begging him to intervene. To my surprise, Julian completely ignored Seraphina’s silent plea, saying instead, “Seraphina, go home. This isn’t where you belong.” At his words, Seraphina’s body trembled uncontrollably, her voice shaking. “Julian, I’m not leaving.” Julian beside her remained silent, his expression icy, the pressure around him palpable. Seraphina burst into tears and ran off, leaving me with a resentful glare as she left. Julian said nothing more, simply waved over the waiter and ordered many of my favorite dishes. During dinner, he even meticulously picked out all the mushrooms, which I despise, putting them on his own plate. This instantly reminded me of when we first graduated college. We didn’t have much money, so we lived very frugally. We’d only order one dish at a small cafe. The owner misheard our order and added mushrooms to my plate as usual. I, who hated mushrooms, was at a loss, and too introverted to ask the owner for a new plate. Julian, however, painstakingly picked out every single mushroom and quietly ate them all himself. Noticing I seemed lost in thought, Julian called out to me, “Ellie, what’s wrong?” The way he said my name, combined with the memory of him picking out the mushrooms, made me feel as if I had traveled back to our past. Possessed by a sudden impulse, I asked, “Julian, why did you invite me out to dinner today?” He hadn’t expected such a question. His movements stiffened, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the tabletop. This was a habit of Julian’s; whenever he did this, it meant he was about to lie. I smiled, though my heart ached. I pretended to say nonchalantly, “Just be honest. It wouldn’t happen to be because of your little secretary who just left, would it?” He looked as if a great weight had been lifted. “You always see through me, Eleanor. She’s been too clingy lately, forgetting her place. I actually brought you out to let her know that I’m putting her in her place for a while.” Receiving the answer I expected, it was a lie to say I wasn’t disappointed. But I forced back the tears, at least, I wouldn’t cry in front of him.

I had secretly adored Julian since high school. He was a big shot at our school. Handsome, a star basketball player, and even got a full scholarship to an Ivy League university. Yet, he was a natural playboy, with girlfriends changing constantly. Still, countless girls secretly admired him, myself included. I once thought I was his ‘the one,’ and even my friends believed he had turned over a new leaf for me, that he’d only love me forever. To my dismay, the pretense didn’t last past the third month of our marriage. Taking advantage of my business trip, he directly brought a woman home to stay overnight. I had returned early, filled with joy, hoping to surprise him, as it was the anniversary of when we first became official. All that greeted me was a chaotic scene of infidelity. I was hysterical then, crying and screaming, utterly heartbroken, smashing everything in the house I could lay my hands on. Julian showed no remorse for being caught. Instead, he told me, “Eleanor, it’s impossible for a person to stick with just one person their whole life; trying new things is always good.” Memories flooded back, and my gaze fell upon the wine glass in front of me. I actually didn’t drink, but Julian and I owned a company, and someone always needed to negotiate partnerships, drinking with clients until they were happy, which often sealed the deals. I forced myself to learn how to drink. A cool, clear voice broke through my thoughts: “Sister, drinking this much alone isn’t good for your health.” The person spoke to me, dressed in a hotel waiter’s uniform. He was young, no older than twenty, with exquisite, handsome features. His clean, pristine aura clashed with the noisy bar environment. With the alcohol getting to my head, my thoughts were sluggish. I slurred slightly, “It’s fine. I can handle my liquor.” As I reached for the glass to take another sip, Ly Thorne, with quick, agile hands, snatched it from my grasp. He sat beside me, his bright eyes fixed on mine. “Sister, you’re not allowed to drink anymore.” I was somewhat annoyed that my drink had been taken. I stood up to retrieve it, but my balance was off, and I tumbled right into Ly Thorne’s embrace. He smelled wonderfully clean, unlike Julian, whose scent was often tinged with women’s perfume. Ly smelled faintly of cedarwood. Feeling drowsy, Ly Thorne gently helped me sit up, leaning closer to my face. His voice, a tempting whisper, asked, “Sister, are you tired? Will you come with me?” A handsome face, magnified, filled my vision. His tone was full of genuine concern. As if possessed, I nodded. I don’t know how much time passed. I managed to pry open my eyes, only to see Ly Thorne’s gaze brimming with affection, as if I were the only person in his world. He whispered into my ear, “Sister, are you alright?” His warm breath tickled my skin. I still clung to a sliver of lucidity, but Julian’s words from before echoed in my mind: *trying new things is always good.* I decided to indulge, to live for myself, just this once.

I woke the next day with only a throbbing headache, a hangover from too much wine. Beside me, Ly Thorne was watching me with those innocent eyes, and then I remembered what happened last night. Looking at his youthful, innocent face, I asked, a little nervously, “How old are you?” “I just turned nineteen last month,” he answered obediently. I was simultaneously relieved he was at least eighteen and a little regretful about last night. As if sensing my dilemma, Ly Thorne said considerately, “Sister, you don’t need to be responsible for me.” But as he spoke, he lowered his head, as if he’d been wronged. I, however, felt truly embarrassed. I had initially thought, since he was a waiter, his family probably wasn’t well-off, and I could just compensate him with some money. But with Ly Thorne explicitly saying he didn’t need me to be responsible, offering money now would truly be disrespectful. I gave him my business card. “I owe you an apology. This is my card. I’m Eleanor Vance. If you ever need help with anything, please come find me. I’ll do everything I can to assist you.” Ly Thorne took my card, obediently saying, “Alright, Sister. My name is Lysander Thorne.” I was busy getting dressed and didn’t really pay attention to what he said next, then left in a hurry. Naturally, I didn’t notice the playful yet insistent gaze Ly Thorne fixed on my retreating back. Today was our team meeting at the company. Despite rushing as fast as I could, I was still late. The only difference today was that Julian was there. Seeing me arrive late, his face darkened considerably; anyone could tell he was furious today. After the meeting, I went to the restroom to touch up my makeup. The moment I stepped out, someone yanked me into an adjacent stall. I was about to resist when Julian’s voice came: “Eleanor, you really outdid yourself. Where were you last night?” Though the stall was dim and cramped, I could still make out the fury on Julian’s face. “It’s none of your business. You’re the one who said we should act like strangers at the office.” “Hmph. Where did those hickeys on your neck come from? Out messing around with some random man?” Julian practically gritted his teeth. I looked at Julian with a touch of amusement. “Julian, didn’t you tell me before to try dating younger men? Well, I did. A nineteen-year-old boy-toy, handsomer than you, and better in bed.” Julian’s face went even darker, veins bulging on his right hand. He pinned me against the wall, clearly intending to kiss me. I pushed him with all my might, but he didn’t budge, trapping me in the crook of his arm. My struggles lessened, and he even smirked. I just felt a chill of disgust. Suddenly, the stall door was pushed open by Seraphina. She stared in disbelief at the scene before her. Julian halted his actions then, and I seized the opportunity, slapping Julian hard across his right cheek. I put all my strength into that slap, and his cheek quickly swelled and reddened. I spat, “You’re sick.” An indescribable sense of catharsis washed over me as I walked out without looking back. Julian still tried to hold me back, but Seraphina beside him was crying incessantly, forcing Julian to embrace his little secretary and offer explanations.

After that day, I never again came home to find Julian bringing women over, and Seraphina had been fired. In fact, twice, he had dinner prepared for me, a table laden with all my favorite dishes. Julian’s cooking had always been good; in the first three months of our marriage, he often cooked, even promising to cook for me for a lifetime. But after I discovered his infidelity and made a huge scene, we rarely had the chance to sit down and eat together peacefully. I was somewhat unaccustomed to Julian’s sudden change. I didn’t believe he had fallen back in love with me, but I couldn’t grasp his true motive. On my birthday, he took the day off work early, dressing in the simple white shirt he knew I had loved in high school and college, looking full of youthful charm. Seeing him walk towards me, holding a bouquet, my memory flashed back to three years ago, to his proposal. His eyes had been brimming with deep affection for me, and our friends were cheering, livening the atmosphere. He walked slowly towards me, holding a modest ring, and knelt on one knee. “Ellie, marry me. I’ll be good to you for the rest of my life.” And now, he held a bouquet of my favorite white roses, kneeling on the ground, begging for my forgiveness. “Ellie, I was wrong before. I let you down, did so many things that hurt you. It’s understandable that you’d ignore me. But I’ve realized I can’t live without you. I promise you, I will only love you.” By the end, tears streamed down Julian’s face, yet I remained unmoved. Seeing I made no move, Julian began to slap himself, again and again. Soon, his handsome face became red and swollen, looking quite pathetic, a stark contrast to his usual aloof and self-possessed demeanor. My heart wavered slightly. This was only the second time Julian had cried in front of me. The last time was when we first started our business and lost all our money. Our world felt like it was crashing down, and he cried in my arms like a child. I looked at Julian, and ultimately, my heart softened. I helped him up from the cold floor and told him I forgave him.

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Rushing to get my mom’s asthma medication, my husband’s secretary, Chloe, insisted I take her to the salon first. I explained the emergency and refused. Before I could even start the car, Damian yanked me out. “You know Chloe just started, she’s clueless about the local roads. What if she misses her appointment at the salon?” I stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. “A salon appointment can be rescheduled, but if someone’s life is on the line, you can’t bring them back. Are you trying to kill my mom?” Damian quickly tried to placate me. “Of course not! I’ll take you there myself, right now.” But the car drove further and further into desolate territory until it stopped on a gravel road. Damian kicked me out of the car. He made Chloe ride on my back, then grabbed a whip and urged me forward. “Didn’t you say if someone’s life is on the line, you can’t bring them back?” “Hurry up and crawl, or your mom is going to die!” My knees sank into the sharp gravel, a searing pain making me almost cry out. Chloe’s hands pressed into my shoulders, her grip tightening with every second. She even chuckled, saying, “Slow down a bit, I’m still riding here, you know.” I bit down hard, trying to inch forward, but as soon as my knees lifted off the ground, the stones beneath them scraped painfully again. All the strength drained from my body, leaving me sprawled on the spot. Suddenly, Damian raised the whip and lashed it across my leg. A burning, fiery pain shot up my thigh. The black skirt instantly ripped, revealing a swollen red welp. I trembled uncontrollably. “What are you dragging your feet for? Isn’t your mom about to die?” He stood over me, whip in hand, looking down with contempt. “You cried and begged me to marry you, swearing to repay my kindness. Now you won’t even take Chloe to the salon. What good are you to me?” The humiliation and terror finally broke through, tears streaming down my cheeks. I looked up, my vision blurred by tears. “I really need to take my mom’s medication… Damian, please, just let me go, okay?” “I promise, as soon as I deliver the medicine to my mom, I’ll take Chloe to the salon. Please?” Chloe leaned down, wiping away my tears with her fingertips. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re crying again! Damian, how are we supposed to have fun with all this sniffling? What a buzzkill!” Her fingertips were icy cold, and a shiver ran through me as they brushed my cheek. Then, she suddenly leaned in and kissed me on the lips. I froze, wanting to recoil as if bitten by a viper, but she just giggled. “Why are you so upset? Damian sacrificed so much for you, even his own self-respect. What’s wrong with playing a little game with us? ” “This is just normal fun, relax, you’ll find the pleasure in it soon enough.” Damian’s lips curved into a cold sneer when he heard that, and he raised the whip again. “Hear that? Chloe’s more reasonable than you.” “If you don’t start moving, I can’t guarantee your mom will get her medicine.” At his words, my tears flowed even harder. I knew Damian was a man of his word. But the searing pain in my knees and the crushing weight on my back left me without the strength to crawl even an inch forward. I could only lie there, letting my tears fall onto the gravel road, silently screaming inside: Mom, just wait for me, please just wait a little longer…

Chloe’s fingers idly played with the stray hairs around my ear, her nail grazing my sweat-soaked skin. “Skylar, I almost forgot to ask, dressed so nicely today, are you *really* just going to deliver medicine?” Before I could protest, she pressed harder on my shoulder, her voice hissing in my ear like a snake’s tongue. “Damian thinks it’s strange too. You’re not using the medicine as an excuse to meet someone else, are you?” “I’m not!” I tried to lift my head to deny it, but she held me down tightly. My mouth hit the gravel, and I tasted blood. Damian’s whip cracked again, but this time it landed on the empty ground beside me. Small stones flew up, leaving tiny cuts on my arm, making me flinch in terror. “Chloe’s right,” his voice was as cold as ice. “If you have nothing to hide, why are you so dressed up?” “Today, I’m going to teach you a lesson. You need to remember whose wife you are.” With that, he moved closer. Seeing this, Chloe released me and stood up, smiling. “Don’t be scared, Skylar. This is just a game Damian and I play all the time. It’s just a small punishment.” “Since you can’t carry me, I won’t make it hard for you.” “See that small dirt mound up ahead? Just crawl up there.” “If we’re satisfied, we’ll let you go deliver the medicine to your mom, okay?” A faint spark of hope ignited in my heart, but before I could move, Chloe walked over to the car and pulled out a black cloth bag. She squatted beside me and opened it. What was inside made my pupils shrink: several strange, unsettling-looking toys with a cold glint that made my skin crawl. “What are these…?” My voice trembled. I tried to pull back, but Damian stepped forward and pressed his foot down on my ankle. His shoe heel dug into my flesh, and tears instantly welled up in my eyes from the pain. “For your entertainment.” Damian squatted down, pinching my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Since it’s a game, we might as well make it fun.” Chloe leaned in too, her fingertip tracing the whip marks on my thigh. I flinched from the pain. “Be a good girl, Skylar, just relax. It’ll be over soon.” She said, then, ignoring my desperate headshakes and struggles, she forced the device into my body. A sharp, alien sensation coursed through me. I trembled as if struck by electricity, shame and agony overwhelming me like a tidal wave. I wanted to scream, but Damian covered my mouth with a handkerchief. I struggled fiercely, so he bound my wrists with a rope. Chloe held her phone, the camera focused squarely on me, the screen’s light reflecting on her face as she smiled, dazzling and cruel. “Alright, now you can crawl.” Damian removed the handkerchief from my mouth, his voice laced with mockery. The device vibrated inside me. A strange thrill mixed with bone-deep humiliation, making me feel like I was losing my mind. “Skylar, if you don’t move, we might be stuck here all day.” I bit my lip, my knees bleeding on the gravel path as I slowly, painfully inched forward. With every movement, the vibrations inside me intensified, tears mixing with sweat as they hit the ground. Chloe kept snapping photos, the shutter clicks echoing like each one was tearing away a piece of my dignity. I don’t know how long I crawled before I collapsed onto the ground, utterly spent. I was completely drenched in sweat, the device still vibrating inside me. My bruised and cut skin stuck to the scorching earth, a mix of throbbing pain and numbness. Chloe turned off her phone and laughed. “See? Even the ‘good girl’ can be tamed.” Damian finally looked satisfied. He reached down and pulled the device out of my body. I felt all my strength drain away, collapsing to the ground, gasping for breath. He stood above me, his voice devoid of warmth. “Don’t worry, Chloe already sent someone to deliver the medicine to your mom.” Chloe squatted down and patted my face. “Thank you, Skylar. You put on such a good show, we were thoroughly entertained.” “Next time, make sure to perform well too, okay?” After they finished, they turned and got into the car. The car sped off, leaving me alone on the gravelly dirt mound.

By the time the car wheels finally hit the last stretch of familiar asphalt, dawn was breaking. No GPS, my phone confiscated. I relied on blurry memories, taking countless wrong turns. Just as the gas tank neared empty, I finally spotted the familiar streetlamp outside my house. Pushing open the car door, the scabs on my knees tore open, a sharp pain shooting through me. Every step felt like walking on knives. I crept into my mother’s room. Seeing her lying peacefully in bed, the worry that had gnawed at me all day finally eased. After tucking her blankets in, I dragged my exhausted body towards our bedroom. The moment I reached the doorway, the sounds from inside froze me. It was Chloe’s soft humming, laced with laughter, and Damian’s low gasps. My heart pounded, and my fingers trembled as I pushed the door open just a crack. The sight before me made my stomach churn. Chloe sat on Damian, her fingers twisting a black leather chain. The other end was fastened around Damian’s neck. She leaned in, whispering something into his ear. Damian’s head rested against the headboard, his eyes half-closed, a look of submission I’d never seen on his face. Chloe seemed to sense my gaze. She turned, and seeing me, she didn’t even try to hide. Instead, she smiled and raised the chain in her hand. “Skylar, you’ve come at just the right time.” Damian opened his eyes, his gaze on me as cold as ice. “Why are you standing in the doorway? Come in.” My feet felt like lead, utterly unable to move. That was our bedroom, our bed, now a place for their sordid affair. Nausea rose in my throat. I covered my mouth, wanting to turn and run, but Damian’s sharp voice stopped me. “Stop! Who told you to leave?” Chloe slid off Damian, straightened her wrinkled skirt, and walked over to me. She reached out and patted my face. “Skylar, Damian wants you to stay and serve us. You can’t be disobedient, can you?” As she spoke, she handed me a silver tray holding a glass of iced water. The chill of the ice seeped through the silver to my fingertips, making me shiver. “If Damian gets thirsty later, you’ll feed him water.” I clutched the silver tray, my fingertips turning numb. Damian leaned against the headboard, looking at me with a sneer. “What? Not willing? I saved your life, and you won’t even do this much for me?” His words pierced my heart like needles. I remembered the car accident three years ago. He’d thrown himself over me, pulling me from the mangled car, only to have a falling steel plate crush his lower body. I remembered crying as I called off my engagement with Liam, saying, “I owe him my life; I have to repay it.” I remembered my father, before he died, grasping my hand and saying, “Damian is a reliable man. I trust him with the family business.” For three years, he had indeed done well, managing the family company my father left behind, tripling its size. I thought that by giving him my marriage, my submission, and our family’s resources, I had repaid him enough. But when did he become like this? Was it when he took over the family business and Chloe appeared by his side? Or was it when he started mocking me more and more often, always bringing up the ‘debt of gratitude’ to torment me with my own guilt? I looked at him now, his eyes filled with nothing but harsh judgment for me, and my heart ached as if being torn apart. I could only stand by the bed, holding the silver tray. Chloe returned to Damian’s side, picked up a feather, and gently ran it across his chest. “Damian, want to go again?” Damian’s breathing grew heavier. Chloe occasionally glanced at me, her eyes full of provocation. I don’t know how long passed, my eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Leaning against the wall, my head kept drooping. In a daze, a splash of icy liquid suddenly hit my face. “How could you fall asleep?” Chloe laughed. “Damian’s waiting for his water.” Damian sat up, looking at my soaked appearance, and sneered. “I saved your life, and you can’t even stay awake for a bit? Or are you thinking about someone else?” He paused. “Liam’s back, aren’t you happy?” I snapped my head up, looking at him in disbelief. “What, nothing to say?” Damian watched me, the sharpness in his eyes deepening. “Did I hit a nerve? The moment Liam came back, you just couldn’t wait to see him?” “No, that’s not it.” I finally found my voice. “I haven’t even seen him.” Damian scoffed, then abruptly swept the water glass off the nightstand, sending it crashing to the floor. “Still lying! Look at this!” Damian didn’t listen to my explanations at all. He stood up, walking towards me step by step, his tall frame casting a shadow over me. “Believe me, after marrying you, I haven’t had any contact with him.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “298650”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic