Category: English

  • Don’t Feed the Bears

    During a road trip through Tibet, my brother and sister-in-law egged my nephew on to feed spicy beef jerky to a Tibetan Blue Bear. Seeing the bear panting and making goofy faces from the spice, the three of them laughed hysterically, filmed it, and uploaded it online. Who knew? The video went viral overnight, racking up over a million views. Desperate to become influencers and cash in, they spent the next day specifically hunting for bears to feed. That’s when I noticed something terrifying. The bear currently performing tricks for my brother’s camera… was the exact same bear we fed yesterday. 1. I peered through the half-open car window. The bear was chomping down on the food, drool stringing from its jaws to the ground. It looked goofier than your average predator. That was exactly why my brother, Brad, and his wife, Karen, couldn’t tear themselves away. The bear, having just swallowed a stick of spicy jerky, was waving its paws and sticking its tongue out in a way that looked almost human. It was “cute.” My family was losing their minds laughing. Brad, holding the phone, shifted angles. “Danny, get closer! Yeah, right there. Smile big for the camera!” Karen was directing from the side. “Danny, give him another piece! I think he wants more. We need different angles for the compilation video later.” We had stopped a few times to feed bears without incident, but sitting in the backseat, I felt a knot tightening in my stomach. Something was wrong. I pulled out my phone and pulled up the video they posted last night. This bear was too unique. Not just its mannerisms, but that specific patch of grey-white fur on its neck. It was identical to the one in the video. This was the same bear. Yesterday, it had stared at them, eating everything Danny threw at it, drooling everywhere. The comments section was blowing up: “OMG, never seen a bear that greedy!” “It’s a foodie bear! So cute!” Maybe I was staring too hard. The bear, having just finished a handful of cookies, swivelled its black, beady eyes and locked onto me. It sent a chill down my spine. I immediately rolled up the window, locked the door, and pressed my back against the seat, taking a deep breath. This bear wasn’t right. It was too harmless. It acted like a circus animal, knowing exactly what moves would make the tourists happy. I turned to our local guide. “Dorje, how far to the next campsite?” “Not far,” Dorje said. “Maybe thirty miles.” “That close? Won’t these bears follow us?” Dorje laughed at my paranoia. “No way. Tibetan Blue Bears only chase prey for a hundred yards or so. They give up quick.” Seeing my pale face, he added, “Relax. The spot is safe. I take tourists there all the time. Never had an accident.” I quickly Googled it. He was right. Bears usually don’t stalk prey over long distances unless they are starving. But what if this bear was different? We had seen plenty of wildlife. These bears weren’t starving. So why would it follow us for a whole day just for some snacks? No. It wasn’t the snacks. Sure, human food is tasty, but for a massive predator, a few sticks of jerky isn’t even a snack. It’s a crumb. Plenty of tourists feed bears on this highway. There was no reason to target us specifically. Unless the food wasn’t the jerky. Unless the food… was us. 2. It took ages to drag them back into the car. My nephew, Danny, kicked my shin the moment he got in. “Why are you rushing us? I wasn’t done feeding the bear!” Karen rolled her eyes. “What? Are you jealous because we went viral?” She turned to Brad, using her whiny voice. “Babe, you know what kind of people act like this? It’s always family. They just can’t stand seeing you do better than them.” I opened my mouth to explain, but Brad cut me off. “Summer, can you stop being such a hater? Have you forgotten who beat up the neighborhood bully for you when we were kids?” I hadn’t forgotten. I also hadn’t forgotten that the bully only hit me because Brad stole his Gameboy. But now wasn’t the time for history lessons. I showed them the comparison photos. “Look at the fur pattern. It’s the same bear. It followed us.” They brushed it off. “You’re seeing things.” Dorje looked at the photos. “Huh. They do look alike. But bears look similar out here.” Seeing nobody believed me, I put my foot down. “For safety, I think we should cancel the ‘Starry Night Camping’ plan. There’s a town with a hotel another 150 miles up the road.” Karen shrieked. “No way! The camping is the highlight of the trip! We aren’t canceling!” Brad frowned. “Stop being dramatic. The guide says it’s fine. Do you know more than the local expert now?” Danny went feral. He reached over the seat and yanked my hair. “We are camping! You bitch! You stole my money and now you ruin my fun! Die!” The brat had a grip like a vice. I screamed in pain and pinched his arm as hard as I could until he let go. Seeing my red eyes and Danny’s tears, Karen pulled her son into a hug. “He’s just a child! You’re a grown woman hurting a nine-year-old? Are you human?” She started fake crying. “I never even spank him, and you pinch him until he bleeds? Brad, look!” Brad glared at me from the passenger seat. If Dorje hadn’t been driving, he probably would have hit me. “Summer, if there is a mark on him, you’re paying for it.” I had organized this trip to fix my relationship with my brother’s family. Clearly, that was a mistake. I decided to respect their fate. “If you guys are camping, I’m staying in the hotel.” “No,” Brad said. “One car. We stick together.” “Dorje can drop you guys off, take me to the hotel, and come back.” “Absolutely not!” Karen snapped. “The hotel is the opposite direction of tomorrow’s sights. Why should we waste time on you?” She sneered. “You picked a hotel so far away… what if the car doesn’t come back? You want us stranded in the wild? I knew you were up to no good. Inviting us on a trip… probably hoping we’d disappear so you get Mom and Dad’s inheritance.” I couldn’t win. I was forced to go to the campsite. But I refused to leave the vehicle. I locked myself in the driver’s seat with my backpack. 3. The Tibetan night sky was indeed beautiful. Brad and Karen’s livestream was popping off again. Danny’s bear-feeding photos were trending. They were bragging to their fans, encouraging them to come out. “Guys, get here ASAP! The bear cubs are so cute!” I tried commenting, warning people that bears are omnivores and dangerous, but my comments were drowned out by fans mocking me for being a buzzkill. Exhausted from the excitement, the three of them fell asleep in their tent. Silence enveloped the plateau. I started dozing off, watching the stars through the sunroof. Suddenly, the car lights flashed twice. Someone had hit the lock button on the remote. I sat up straight. There were only two keys. Brad had one. Dorje had the other. Brad and Dorje wouldn’t prank me. That left Danny. I looked at the tent near the dying campfire. It was silent. If Danny was messing around, he wouldn’t be this quiet. Click. Someone pulled the door handle behind me. It was locked. A bad feeling washed over me. I held down the internal lock button with one hand and slid down in the seat. Click. Another sound. My heart hammered. I pressed the lock again. Because someone had unlocked it with the remote, the interior lights had turned on. Someone tried the door again. Suddenly, a massive, furry face pressed against the driver’s side window. Beady black eyes scanned the interior. I curled into a ball under the steering wheel, covering myself with my backpack, praying it didn’t see me. 4. Thanks to the window tint and my hiding spot, the bear didn’t spot me. It circled the car once and seemed to wander off. I grabbed my phone to text Brad, but hesitated, afraid the light would give me away. THUMP. The car shook violently. Something heavy had climbed onto the roof. I remembered reading that bears are incredibly smart and vengeful. When released into the wild, other animals run; bears come back to the driver’s side to settle the score. They even check under the car. That bear had memorized our faces. It knew exactly how many of us there were. It was hunting us. I covered my phone with my jacket sleeve to block the light and sent texts to Brad and Dorje. [Danger. Bear outside the tent!] Ding! Ding-dong! Crisp notification sounds rang out in the silent night. One was Brad’s, coming from the tent. The other was Dorje’s. It came from just outside the car—but nowhere near the tent. My blood ran cold. I had heard strange unlocking sounds earlier. I suspected Dorje was already dead. He was the most experienced, the first threat to neutralize. I had hoped he just dropped his keys. But now, with the bear lying on the hood of the car, blocking the windshield with its massive bulk, I knew. Dorje was gone. The bear was staring through the glass, looking for me. Suddenly, voices came from the tent. Brad and Karen had woken up. They saw the bear outside their tent. But unlike me, they weren’t screaming in terror. They were screaming in delight.

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  • My Long-Distance Boyfriend is a Shedding Fox

    My long-distance boyfriend suddenly texted me saying his hair was falling out. I asked how it happened, and he said he “rubbed it off by hand.” Shocked, I typed back: “Damn, you play that hard?” Julian: “?” 【LMAO. The male lead is literally a fox who likes grooming his own fur, and the female lead’s mind went straight to the gutter.】 【Right? Poor baby fox is collecting his shed fur right now to knit a scarf for her.】 【Hahaha, bet he’s gonna show up at her door tonight.】 As soon as the floating chat comments faded, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find a tiny, snow-white baby fox wearing a white scarf, sitting obediently on my welcome mat. 1 Seeing the door open, the little fox didn’t hesitate. He trotted in on his little paws. He even leaned against my pant leg, staring up at me with big blue eyes, rubbing his head against my ankle. 【OMG so cute! Who sends themselves as a care package to their online girlfriend like this?】 【He loves her so much. Turning into a baby fox just to cuddle.】 I was completely bewildered. So, this fox is my boyfriend of three months? Where is my 6-foot-tall, eight-pack abs, gym-rat Daddy? While my brain was buffering, the chat comments wouldn’t let up. 【Look at this girl, total blockhead. Can’t she see how desperate he is?】 【His little tail is drooping. That look screams ‘pet me, please.’】 【Girl, you better study hard and provide for him. He gift-wrapped himself for you!】 I looked down. Sure enough, the pure white fluff-ball was hugging my leg, looking up at me with a pitiful, pleading expression. I fell silent. Then I squatted down and scooped up this creature—who was allegedly my aloof, cool-guy boyfriend—into my arms. The little fox didn’t struggle. He lay obediently in my arms, the tip of his tail gently swaying against my forearm. 【Hehe, target acquired. Is the cohabitation arc starting?】 【Yesss, here for it!】 I placed the fox on my bed and narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing him. I wasn’t thinking about anything deep. I was just wondering… if Julian is like this, will I ever get to see those eight-pack abs and that firm butt again?! The fox blinked his watery blue eyes. With a soft paw, he hooked the white scarf off his neck. He held it in his mouth, wagging his tail. 【Take it, Lexi! He knit that scarf with the fur he groomed off himself!】 【He loves collecting his shed fur to make stuff for her. He’s been online dating for three months and this simp has knitted everything. He even knitted himself a collar.】 【Haha yeah, he told her he was shedding, and she thought he was doing… something else.】 【Hehe, well, technically she wasn’t wrong about the hand motion.】 I quickly took the scarf and wrapped it around my neck. It was incredibly soft. Free stuff is the best stuff. I didn’t expect Julian, that brooding mystery man, to have such domestic skills. But if he keeps harvesting himself like this, is he going to go bald? 2 【She’s been staring at him since she walked in. Does she suspect something? Why is she poking him?】 I gently parted the fur on the fox’s tummy, frowning with regret when I saw the pinkish-white belly. Turned into a fox, and the abs are gone. Tragedy. The little fox melted into a puddle, ears drooping, eyes getting heavy. But when my hand reached a certain… area, his tail immediately clamped down tight between his legs. 【LMAO what is she looking for?】 I blinked. If I can’t see the glutes, I was just curious… cough. I heard foxes have… knots? Can’t say it. Forbidden knowledge. Forget it. It’s late. Time to sleep. I yawned and wrapped my arms around the stiff little fox. “Time for bed, little fox. I’ll study hard and be your sugar mama.” I mumbled nonsense as sleep took over. The fox in my arms finally relaxed. He buried his little head against my chest. I hugged him tight like a plushie. “Julian, you jerk… why won’t you come see me…” I murmured in my sleep. The fox stiffened again, not daring to move a muscle. 3 【Girl, how can you sleep?! He found your secrets!】 A snow-white head poked out from the duvet, staring at the phone screen lighting up on the nightstand. His eyes showed a very human expression of disbelief and heartbreak. 【He saw the notifications. Three other guys texting her.】 【It’s over. This fluff fic is turning into a dark romance.】 I woke up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. I glanced at the floating text, then at the fox. He wasn’t sleeping at all. The fur on his cheeks was wet. He had been crying. I sighed. Right in front of Julian, I unlocked my phone. I opened the messages from the so-called “three men.” Sure enough, the little fox went rigid, turning his head away in a huff. I couldn’t blame Julian for feeling insecure. We met online, after all. It started because I wanted a “wolf dog” type boyfriend—someone fierce but loyal. I stumbled upon Julian’s profile picture. I was practically licking the screen. He was too handsome. So I harassed him. I DM’d him “Hubby” every day until he finally gave me his WeChat. Even the coldest man can’t resist being called “Hubby” a thousand times. That day, I sent: Hubby, let me be your sugar mama. Date me. He replied instantly: Okay. Julian was terrified I called other people “Hubby” online. I tapped on the message from a contact named “Alpha Wolf.” Want to meet up? The fox clearly saw it. His tail puffed up like a bottle brush. Shortly after Julian and I got together, I asked to meet up. He refused, dead set against it. But now, someone else was offering. I scrolled to the second guy, “Gym Rat.” He sent a few flexing photos. The fox dug his claws into the bedsheet. I glanced at them. Meh. Not as pretty as Julian’s. Back when Julian wouldn’t meet, I begged for ab pics. I spent days drooling over those photos. To compensate for the long distance, Julian really put himself out there. He sent everything. I tried to break up because of the distance. He sent abs. I said I couldn’t sleep. He sent… private photos. I asked if men really had nice butts. He sent a pic of his glutes. Until the day he said he was shedding. And said it was “by hand.” I was so mad. I thought, You’re having fun by yourself and not including me? Turns out, he’s a fox! Who understands the feeling of waking up to find your boyfriend is a magical creature? And I heard they have… Cough. The excitement outweighs the anger. The third guy was “Mr. Sunshine.” Just friendly check-ins. Things Julian used to do. But all three of them could meet me in person. Julian, in his baby fox form, went into full panic mode. He pounced into my arms, slamming his paw on the phone to turn off the screen. I pretended to sigh, patting his furry back. “Little fox, you know I’m an adult. Adults have emotional needs.” “But my online boyfriend won’t even meet me. And he hasn’t replied all day.” I feigned heartbreak. The little fluff-ball in my arms turned to stone. 【She’s savage. Right in the feels.】 【He’s devastated. Whimper. Baby fox is traumatized.】 Having sufficiently stimulated him, I hugged the fox contentedly and went back to sleep. Actually, those three guys were just blind date candidates my parents tried to set me up with. Only Julian took it for real. Silly fox. He needs a little push. 4 【Is she dreaming? They say holding what you desire most while sleeping boosts your vitality.】 【Cough. She’s getting boosted alright, but he’s a fox right now!】 【I don’t wanna know about the boost, I just wanna know… is it prickly?】 I woke up to the noise of the chat. I squeezed my hand. Something felt off. It was soft, but also… firm? Like a balloon. Does the texture change? I opened my eyes and met a pair of resentful blue eyes. The snow-white fox had turned a flushed pinkish-white. And in my hand, I was holding… No. That has to be Julian’s… lipstick. Red rocket. Whatever you call it. I blinked. My hand twitched, and he let out a whimper. The soft, sweet sound was totally different from Julian’s usual deep, raspy voice. I was scared. I thought I was doing something illegal. If Julian hadn’t turned into a fox, I probably wouldn’t have gotten to touch this. Thinking he might be angry later, I immediately let go. But the little fox looked… disappointed? 【LMAO did she get pricked?】 I thought back. Yeah, it was a little prickly. Barb-like. 【Look at his regretful face. He wanted a round two.】 【He was literally whining in pleasure.】 I peeked. The fox’s ears were drooping sadly. He really wanted it. But it’s prickly! And I wonder if Human Julian is prickly too? Also, the size difference between the baby fox and Human Julian… I’ve seen the photos. Back when we were online, I had to call him “Hubby” for a week before he sent that pic. He warned me: Don’t call anyone else Hubby, or no more ab pics. I cowardly agreed to be a one-man woman. Julian was satisfied and sent a few more high-res photos. Caption: Rations for the week. Use sparingly. I slept until noon. When I went to wash my clothes, I found yesterday’s laundry was gone. I ran to the balcony. My underwear was hanging there, clean and dry. 【She’s stunned. Of course our boy did it.】 【Jealous all night, he woke up, turned human, washed her underwear with a cold face, and even went for a run.】 【Then she was still sleeping, so he resigned himself to fate and turned back into a fox pillow.】 【True love. Willing to be a spare tire and a laundry maid.】 I glanced at the fox. Washing my underwear, willing to be a backup option… why won’t he just turn human and play with me? Stingy. Julian, curled up on the bed trying to nap, suddenly felt a chill. 【Yikes, does she know? That look in her eyes…】 【Interesting. A game of cat and… fox.】 For lunch, I prepared meat for Julian and played on my phone. He wouldn’t eat. He lay on my lap, trying to peek at my screen. 【He’s scared she’s texting those three guys.】 【Protective little thing.】 I looked at Julian. He looked away. I looked at my phone; he glared at it. Helplessly, I put the phone down and carried him to the table. We had a staring contest. “Eat,” I pushed the plate. Eat more. Grow that booty. The fox pushed it back, looking disgusted. “You won’t eat raw meat? Foxes eat raw meat.” “I get it. You want kibble.” I brought over some cat food. The fox went stiff, tail rigid. I rubbed his furry head aggressively. So soft. Seriously, Julian. If you can turn into a fox to sleep with me, just turn human already. Then I wouldn’t have to lick my screen looking at photos. Hmph. The price of lying is eating Meow Mix. “Eat up. If you eat, Big Sister will give you a kiss.” I tempted him, taking advantage of his crush. The fox’s ears perked up. He stared at the kibble, conflicted. 【He’s debating between dignity and a kiss.】 【No way. He’s a majestic Nine-Tailed Fox. Him? Eating cat food?】 【It was humiliating enough turning into a baby fox to get in the door. Now this?】 Seeing the words “Nine-Tailed Fox,” my eyes lit up. Does that mean I can roll around in a pile of tails? The fox’s mouth was already full of kibble. I poked his soft cheek. “Slow down. I won’t steal it.” He almost choked. I patted his back. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Kiss reward coming soon.” His ears turned pink. I suspect Julian is very excited. Once, I told him I wanted to kiss him. He shyly said okay, but he needed to “study” first. Technically, neither of us knew how. But I’m a pervert, so I planted bad ideas in his head. I told him kissing meant “kissing every single place.” Julian, usually so dark and cool, always seemed to lose a few IQ points around me. He believed it and decided that was the protocol. 【LMAO he actually ate it. This man will do anything for a smooch.】 【Of course! He’s a virgin. This cool guy dreams every day of giving his first kiss to her.】 【Who would have guessed he has wet dreams about her where he pops his ears and tails out and giggles?】

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  • After Being Falsely Accused, I Received His Poverty Application

    1 Someone was blowing up the Crestwood University group chat with questions in the middle of the night. I sent a quick message reminding him to check the time. A second later, a friend request popped up. The moment I accepted, the bombardment began. [Hey, is that you in your profile pic? Do you always dress that sexy on campus?] [I’m starting at Crestwood soon. If I see you around, how am I supposed to focus on my studies? You’re going to be a major distraction.] I found his string of questions deeply offensive and chose to ignore him. But I never imagined he would take a screenshot and post it on his own social media feed. When I warned him to delete it, he just scoffed. [Everyone in the comments agrees with me. As a future classmate, I’m advising you to focus on your schoolwork instead of trying to sleep your way to the top!] His words made me laugh. Because at that very moment, his application for the student hardship fund was sitting in my email inbox. … My phone wouldn’t stop vibrating. The verbal assault from him showed no signs of letting up. [You girls are always hiding behind ‘freedom of dress.’ You think we can’t see what you’re really after? Take my advice and turn back before you go too far down that slutty path!] [Is that a Chanel bag? Heh, it’s so easy for women like you to make a quick buck. Just spread your legs and you get everything you want.] [Don’t think I don’t know what your type comes to university for—to hook a rich guy, right? This campus is a place of learning. It won’t be tainted by trash like you!] The messages popped up one after another, each one a sledgehammer to my sense of decency. The profile picture was, in fact, me. A candid shot my best friend, Lily, took during our college days. I was wearing a black slip dress, a bright smile on my face. But in his mouth, the photo was twisted into something as sordid as a nude. Fighting the urge to gag, I muted his notifications. The next day, I went to Crestwood University to meet Lily, as planned. Walking down the tree-lined path, I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on my back, but every time I turned around, I saw nothing. That evening, I remembered the creep on my phone and was about to delete him when another message arrived. This time, it was a screenshot from an online forum. The psycho hadn’t just stolen all the photos from my social media; he’d also included a candid shot of me and Lily from our shopping trip the day before. The caption was vile. [Check her out, guys. That chest, that waist, that ass… classic gold-digger material. If you know, you know!] [Playing all high-and-mighty in the group chat at midnight, just trying to get my attention. Stop pretending to be some innocent little virgin!] [Too bad I’m not some bald old rich guy. Guess I’m not good enough for Her Highness!] The comments below the post were even more disgusting. [I’d give up ten years of my life for a body like that!] [Damn, another cheap whore sleeping her way to the top!] [Dude, go conquer her! Show those old geezers what a real man is!] I suppressed my rage and sent a warning. [Listen, what you’re doing—slander, defamation, and stalking—is enough to land you in jail. Delete it all and apologize. Now.] It was as if he’d been waiting for me. He replied instantly. [Aww, did I touch a nerve? Which part of what I said was wrong?] [You dress like that on campus, aren’t you just putting a price tag on yourself, begging for a sugar daddy?] [I’m doing you a favor. Don’t be ungrateful!] I knew there was no point in reasoning with scum like him. I simply screenshotted the entire chat log and the forum post, saving everything. Just as I finished, a new email notification appeared. I opened it. It was the list of this year’s applicants for Crestwood’s hardship fund. As I scrolled through the first few applications, a familiar name caught my eye—Dylan Thorne. It was an exact match for the creep’s user ID. I clicked on his social media profile. It was filled with nine-panel grids of his selfies, the captions cringeworthy. [What’s it like waking up this handsome every day?] [If a rich cougar wanted to throw money at me for my looks, would you guys be jealous?] [Today’s motivation: Don’t underestimate a guy when he’s broke! Just watch, I’ll have the rich girls chasing me tomorrow.] Fighting back my nausea, I carefully compared his social media photos with the ID picture on his application. Even with all the filters, those distinctive narrow eyes and acne scars were unmistakable. It was the same person. 2 I started reading his financial aid application more carefully. [Name: Dylan Thorne.] [Personal Strengths: Enthusiastic, outgoing, my morals are as good as my looks, sociable, polite, knows how to respect others…] I couldn’t help but snort with laughter when I read the “personal strengths” section. The self-proclaimed virtues were a perfect, ironic contrast to the filth he spewed online. I read on. He briefly described his family situation. Both parents were disabled and lived on government assistance. His entire university education was funded by student loans and financial aid. At the end of the document, there was an officially stamped proof of hardship. For a moment, I felt a swirl of conflicting emotions. His family’s situation did give me a moment’s pause. This grant was undoubtedly crucial for him. If I exposed this at Crestwood, he wouldn’t get a cent from any sponsor. He might even get expelled. I gathered all the evidence and compiled it into an email. My eyes fell on the photo attached to his file, the one showing his gray-haired, disabled parents. My finger hovered over the send button. But in the end, I pulled it away. The next day, I met Lily for lunch. Lily and I had been classmates, and after graduation, she’d taken a position at our alma mater, Crestwood. Over our meal, I casually told her about Dylan. Lily was shocked. She pulled up the student directory, then a class photo. “Is it this guy?” I nodded. “A student with such rotten character is a disgrace to Crestwood! I have to report this to the Dean’s office. We need to get him off the financial aid list immediately!” I stopped her. “Wait.” She looked at me, bewildered. “You’re just going to let this go? You’re not even going to teach him a lesson?” I clenched my fist. “I just feel like it wasn’t easy for his parents to raise a university student. Let’s handle it privately. If he apologizes, we can just leave it at that.” Lily shook her head, smiling at my soft-heartedness, and went back to scrolling on her phone. Suddenly, she gasped, her brow furrowing. “What is it?” I asked. She just handed me her phone. On the screen was a photo, framed to look compromising. It was me, walking ahead in a little black dress. A man in his fifties was walking behind me, a Chanel bag in his hand, with his other hand resting on my shoulder. Beneath the picture was Dylan’s comment. [I know this girl! Her social media is full of slutty pics. Total professional, you can tell.] [How can she stand to be with a fat old pig like that? She really has no shame when it comes to money.] Lily’s fists were clenched so tight her nails were digging into her palms. “That little bastard! I’m getting him arrested today! This is way beyond what campus security can handle!” she seethed. “Spreading these disgusting rumors in broad daylight… he’s absolutely shameless!” I knew why Lily was so furious. When she was in university, someone had spread a rumor that she was having an affair with a professor. The scandal had been huge at the time, and it nearly pushed her into a depression. Even though the truth eventually came out, the shadow of it remained. Now, seeing history repeat itself, there was no way she would let it slide. I gently placed a hand on hers, my voice turning to ice. “Even if we call the police now, all he’ll get is a lecture. That’s letting him off way too easily.” She took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. He’s obviously done this before. We can’t just let him get away with it.” Over the next few weeks, we had a friend who was good with tech trace Dylan’s IP address and dig up all his online activity. Just as we suspected, Lily and I were far from his only victims. Dylan, oblivious to our investigation, escalated his online attacks, spreading even more rumors about me. He claimed he saw me on campus all the time, always in different designer clothes, and that the “old man” with me was the one keeping me. The internet was flooded with hate. Dylan even took screenshots and sent them to me, gloating. [I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen. How does it feel to be public enemy number one?] [Why hasn’t your old sugar daddy spent some money to get these posts deleted? Guess he doesn’t care about you that much, huh?] [Told you so. Only people like us, who work hard for a living, can stand on solid ground!] I ignored all his provocations. Until the day of the final review for the student hardship fund. There, Dylan and I finally came face to face. 3 When Dylan saw me, a flicker of admiration crossed his eyes before twisting into a sneer. “Well, well, if it isn’t the famous ‘socialite’ who slept her way to the top.” “Isn’t your closet already overflowing with Chanel? Why are you here, trying to steal this little bit of aid money from us poor students?” He raised his voice deliberately, then glanced at the sponsors present before leaning in and lowering his voice to a hiss. “How many of the old geezers in this room have sent you money in the middle of the night?” The room fell silent. Dozens of eyes turned to stare at me. I walked past him without a word, my expression unreadable, and took a seat near the back of the classroom. The review proceeded as scheduled. Applicants from each department came up one by one to present their family situations. A review panel would then score them to determine the recipients and the amount of aid. Just as the last self-introduction ended, Dylan shot to his feet, his voice ringing with righteous indignation. “Professor! Why does someone get to skip their introduction?” The professor leading the panel looked confused. He checked the list and, after a careful review, replied, “All the students on the list have completed their introductions. No one was missed.” Dylan clearly didn’t buy it. He stood there, a paragon of virtue. “Impossible! I distinctly saw that girl come in! But she never went on stage!” He scoffed. “Oh, I get it. It was already a done deal. You couldn’t even be bothered to put on a show for us, right?” The professor’s face darkened. “Young man, please watch your words! Our review process is fair, just, and transparent! There are absolutely no predetermined outcomes!” Instead of backing down, Dylan grew louder, his voice cracking with rage. “Bullshit! I saw her walk in with my own two eyes! What, did her old man buy her special privileges?” He shoved aside a security guard who tried to intervene, his face contorted in a euphoric frenzy. “This is ridiculous! What’s the point of us fighting for a chance? We should just drop our pants and climb into some old man’s bed!” His words sent a buzz through the classroom as everyone started whispering. Countless curious eyes were fixed on me. When a security guard tried to escort Dylan out, he dodged and whipped out his phone, starting a livestream and pointing the camera directly at the review panel. “Everyone in the livestream, take a good look! This is the corruption happening at Crestwood University!” he yelled. “A female student sells her body to get ahead, and the school officials cover it up!” “We study our asses off for over a decade! Why should we be trampled on by some filthy whore?!” He looked magnificent, like a revolutionary hero leading an uprising. As his impassioned cries echoed through the room, the buzz of discussion grew louder. Seeing this, Dylan’s spirits soared. He reached the peak of his performance. “Drag that bitch out here! Let the whole internet see just how dirty this filthy flower really is!” I slowly rose from my seat in the back row, leaning against a desk with a faint smile. “Are you talking about me?”

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  • The Six-Year Deception

    Chapter 1 “Child, just stay. I’ll give you a hundred million dollars.” “No? Two hundred million then!” In the grand study of the Pierce Estate, Old Man Pierce sat in his mahogany chair, practically begging the young woman standing before him. I shook my head, sliding the astronomical check back across the desk. “Grandfather, I’m sorry. We agreed on six years. The time is up, my debt is paid, and it’s time for me to go.” My voice was soft, but there was steel in it. Seeing my resolve, the old man sighed heavily. “You’ve suffered these past years. Before you go, tell me what you want. Anything.” I was silent for a long time. Finally, I said, “I want you… to let Julian and Yara be together.” “You sent me to approach Julian to make him forget her. But six years later, you see the truth. Maybe true love really can’t be broken.” Old Man Pierce slumped, looking defeated. “Fine. I’m too old to fight them anymore. Let them ruin themselves if they want. As for the divorce… you’ll have to tell Julian yourself.” I nodded, bowed respectfully, and walked out the heavy oak doors. Sitting in my car, I took one last look at the estate. I first came here to repay a debt. I was an orphan, destined for a hard life, but the Pierce family sponsored my education. I skipped grades, worked myself to the bone, and earned my PhD from MIT by twenty-two. When I came to thank him, the old man made one request. “The Pierce family doesn’t need money. If you want to repay us, give me six years. Marry my heir, give him a child, and make him forget… his stepsister.” That’s when I learned Julian Pierce, the golden boy of New York business, was in love with his foster sister, Yara. He was willing to throw away his inheritance for her. The family had shipped Yara overseas to stop the scandal, leaving Julian a drunken wreck. To repay my debt, I agreed. I played the part of the devoted admirer. I married him. I gave him a son. For six years, I was the perfect wife. But the moment Yara returned from abroad, his buried love caught fire again. Even our son, Leo, who I’d raised with everything I had, started spending all his time with Yara, growing to despise me. The white moonlight never fades, I suppose. But it didn’t matter anymore. The contract was done. I was free. I pulled my gaze away from the rearview mirror just in time to see an out-of-control truck barreling toward me. CRASH. The world spun. Pain exploded in my skull. Then, darkness. When I woke up, the smell of disinfectant stung my nose. “You’re incredibly lucky,” a nurse said, checking my vitals. “Mild concussion. Everyone else in that pile-up on the highway didn’t make it. You’re the sole survivor.” I sat up, shaky. “Can I leave?” “Call your family to sign you out,” she said. I grabbed my phone and dialed Julian. It rang and rang. He didn’t pick up. Eventually, he started declining the calls. One, two, ten times. I switched to calling my son, Leo. Finally, a text popped up. [Stop annoying me! I’m busy. Make sure you have chicken soup ready when we get home.] The impatience was palpable. My five-year-old son, ordering me around like a servant. Outside the door, nurses were gossiping. “Mr. Pierce is so devoted. The woman barely had a scald from hot water—it would have healed if they waited five minutes—but he booked out the whole VIP floor. And his son is so cute, running around getting her water.” “You mean Mrs. Pierce?” “No, that’s his foster sister, Yara. Rumor has it they’re the real couple. He only married his current wife because she was sent away.” I smiled bitterly. So that’s what they were “busy” with. If I had died in that crash, would anyone have even come to identify the body? I looked at the nurse. “I don’t have any family. Can I sign for myself?” She looked at me with pity and handed me the clipboard. On my way out, I passed a VIP suite. Through the open door, I saw Julian and Leo sitting by a bed, peeling fruit, looking gentler than I had ever seen them. I watched for a moment, expressionless, then turned and walked away. Back at the villa, I pulled the divorce papers from a drawer. Julian had signed them years ago. “Stella,” he had said on our wedding night, cold and distant. “I know you’re obsessed with me, but I love someone else. If you ever want to leave, sign this.” I picked up a pen. Without hesitation, I signed my name: Stella Rourke. Chapter 2 Just as I finished, the front door opened. Julian walked in, holding Leo’s hand. They looked like a matched set in their bespoke suits—handsome, expensive, and cold. “Why did you call so many times?” Leo scowled. “Where’s the soup? Is that all you do all day, and you can’t even get that right?” “It’s on the stove,” I said calmly. Leo didn’t spare me another glance, running to the kitchen. Julian stepped forward, loosening his tie. “Leo is young. I’ll talk to him about his attitude.” I didn’t care anymore. Leo used to call me ‘Mommy.’ But since Yara returned, he treated me like the villain who kept his father and “Auntie Yara” apart. “No need,” I said. “Julian, I signed the papers. I don’t want the money, and I don’t want custody. Once the thirty-day cooling-off period is up, I’m gone.” Before Julian could respond, Leo came running back, hugging a thermos. “Daddy, let’s go! Auntie Yara must be scared all alone in the hospital!” Julian looked at me, distracted. “What did you say just now? I didn’t catch it.” He was looking right at me, but his mind was already back at the hospital. “Nothing,” I said. It didn’t matter if he heard. I was leaving anyway. I watched them rush out the door. They were gone for days. It gave me time. I submitted my resume to the National Research Institute. I was a prodigy once. My classmates were winning Nobel Prizes while I was playing house. It was time to go back. A few days later, my phone rang. “Stella! Is it true?” An old classmate’s voice buzzed with excitement. “The Professor hasn’t slept in days, he’s so happy you’re coming back! The academic world is going to shake!” I smiled, a genuine smile for the first time in years. “Yes. From now on, I’m dedicating my life to science. I don’t need anything else.” The front door opened. Julian and Leo walked in. “Don’t need what else?” Julian asked. Chapter 3 I hung up quickly. “Just old junk. I was cleaning out the closet.” Julian stared at me, suspicious, but I kept my face blank. “Why are you back?” I asked. “The food outside is terrible,” Leo complained, throwing his jacket on the sofa. “Go make me ribs. Now.” I looked at Julian. He said nothing, his silence endorsing his son’s demand. I went to the kitchen, feeling like a clown. Six years of being a wife and mother, and I had become nothing more than a live-in chef to them. During dinner, I spoke up. “You should hire the old staff back.” Julian frowned. He had fired the maids because he preferred my cooking and housekeeping. “Why?” “I’m leaving soon. You two need to get used to being taken care of by someone else.” “Leaving? To go where?” Julian scoffed. Leo rolled his eyes. “Are you throwing a tantrum because we took care of Auntie Yara? Where would you even go? You don’t have anywhere.” Julian looked at me. I had no family, no job history, no money of my own. In his eyes, I was helpless without him. He thought I was bluffing. “Stop talking nonsense,” Julian said, dismissing the topic. That night, lying in the same bed, he reached for me. His hand slid around my waist, his breath hot on my neck. “Yara…” he whispered in the dark. It wasn’t the first time. Every time we were intimate, he whispered her name. Disgust surged in my throat. I shoved him away hard. He looked at me, confused and annoyed. “What now?” “I’m sleeping in the guest room,” I said, grabbing a pillow and walking out. Chapter 4 The cold war lasted until Leo’s birthday. Julian threw a massive party. Yara was there, of course. I sat in the corner, watching my husband and son fawn over her. They looked like the perfect family. “Mr. Pierce, Mrs. Pierce,” a guest greeted Julian and Yara. Julian paused. This was the fiftieth time it had happened tonight. He glanced at me in the corner. I was looking down at my phone. “Yara isn’t my wife,” Julian corrected gently. “She’s my… sister.” Later, the guests gossiped. “That woman in the corner is the real wife? That’s pathetic.” I ignored them. When it was time for gifts, I handed Leo a key. “Your gift is in the safe. This is the key.” Inside were gifts for the next eighteen years. I wouldn’t be there to give them. Leo didn’t even look at it. He tossed the key onto a side table. “Whatever. I don’t have time for this.” “Leo, be polite,” Julian chided half-heartedly. “It’s fine,” I said. Leo ran to Yara. “Auntie Yara! What did you get me?” Yara produced a cheap storybook, unwrapped. Leo held it like it was gold. “I love it! Thank you!” Then came the cake. Leo closed his eyes to make a wish. “I wish Auntie Yara could be my mommy, and stay with Daddy forever!” The room went dead silent. “Leo!” Julian warned. “Why not?” Leo shouted. “I saw the letters in your study, Dad! You love her! Stella is just a glorified nanny! Why can’t you be with Auntie Yara?” Yara turned to Julian, eyes brimming with tears. “Julian… is it true? You never forgot me?” Julian looked at her, then at the silent crowd. Finally, he looked at me. I stood there, impassive. He turned back to Yara. “Yes. I never forgot you. Not for a second.” Chapter 5 Chaos erupted. Suddenly, a crash. Someone bumped the champagne tower. Yara was standing right under it. “Yara!” “Auntie!” Julian and Leo lunged forward. I was standing in their path. They shoved me. Hard. I lost my balance and fell backward, crashing into a table of glassware. Shards of glass sliced into my arms and legs. Champagne soaked my dress. Blood pooled around me. Across the room, Julian was holding Yara. A single champagne flute had grazed her arm. A tiny scratch. “Yara, you’re bleeding!” Julian panicked. “We need to get to the hospital!” Leo screamed. Julian picked her up and rushed out. Leo followed. They ran right past me. Julian glanced down for a split second, saw me lying in broken glass and blood, and hesitated. “I have to get Yara to the ER. You… call a cab.” Then he was gone. I lay there, bleeding, and laughed until I cried. Then I called 911. At the hospital, I was being wheeled into surgery when Julian and Leo appeared. “Yara needs blood!” Julian grabbed my arm. “She has a clotting disorder. The blood bank is low. You have the same type. Come with me.” The doctor tried to stop him. “Mr. Pierce, your wife has severe lacerations and significant blood loss. She can’t donate—” “It’s just a little blood!” Leo yelled. “Auntie Yara could die! How can she compare to Auntie Yara?” I looked at my son. The boy I birthed. The boy I loved. “She’s more important than my life?” I asked. “Yes!” Leo screamed. “Take it! Take all of it!” Julian didn’t speak. He just dragged me to the donation room. As the needle pierced my vein, I felt the last thread of attachment snap. I watched my blood fill the bag. “More,” Julian told the nurse. “Just to be safe.” The darkness took me.

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  • Dying to Leave You

    We’d been giving each other the silent treatment for three months when we were invited onto a variety show. The challenge: Call the person you love most. Out of spite, my boyfriend, the A-list movie star, called his assistant, Sherry. The internet went wild, shipping them instantly. I dialed an unknown number, calling my mom in a different universe. The internet mocked me. Sean sneered. “You’re an orphan, Jenny. Where did you dig up a mother? Hiring an actor to save face? That’s a new low, even for you.” I didn’t say a word. As he smirked at me, I sprinted to the window and jumped. The System had just told me: If I die in this world, I can finally go home and reunite with my mom. “Hiring an actor to save face? That’s a new low!” [Host, as soon as your physical body dies in this world, you can go home.] Two voices rang out simultaneously. I stared blankly ahead, lost in thought for a moment. Sean thought I was looking at him and let out a contemptuous laugh. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t have anyone you love? That’s pathetic.” The studio audience roared with laughter at his jab. I was the only one not laughing. He wasn’t wrong. Since coming to this world and accepting the mission to make him fall in love with me, my entire life had revolved around him. I needed to complete the mission quickly to go home and save my sick mother. I didn’t make friends. I relied only on him. I was like a parasitic vine. The internet called me “The World’s Stickiest Chewing Gum.” In the years when Sean loved me most, he used to hold me and promise, “Jenny, I’ll be with you forever. We’ll never be apart.” I believed him. Until I walked in on him kissing Sherry. He explained it away impatiently, his eyes glued to Sherry’s blushing face. “It was just a game, a penalty. Stop being so paranoid. We’re innocent, stop having such a dirty mind.” We had a huge fight. Then, three months ago, I caught them walking out of a bathroom together in bathrobes. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. He didn’t even bother explaining. Instead, he put his arm around Sherry, seemingly on purpose. “Nag, nag, nag. All you do is fight. Can’t you be more obedient like Sherry?” In that moment, I finally realized. It was over. I couldn’t do this mission anymore. Luckily, the System didn’t force me. It agreed to cancel the mission and even promised to honor the reward—curing my mom. With that, I had no more reservations. Recovering from my daze, the System’s voice echoed in my mind again. [Host, your mother asked me to tell you that she misses you very much.] My nose stung, and tears welled up instantly. Yes, I have people I love. I have a mom. And I miss her so much. “I want… to go home.” I muttered unconsciously, my voice choking up. Sean paused, a flash of hesitation in his eyes, but his mouth remained hard. “Jenny, your acting skills are really improving…” I pretended not to hear him. I stood up and walked quickly to the window. Amidst the screams of the crew and the crash of livestream equipment, I jumped straight off the ledge. Sean, I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want these five years of feelings anymore. I just want to go home. Chapter 1 When I woke up, the sharp smell of antiseptic filled my nose. I thought I was back. But before I could rejoice, a familiar voice made my heart sink. Regrettably, I didn’t die. “Jenny, you jumped off a building to threaten me just because I called Sherry? I only said a few words to you! You started the fight!” “If you really wanted to die, go find a skyscraper! The third floor won’t kill you. Stop acting.” Sean’s eyes were bloodshot. I stared at him blankly. Before I could speak, Sherry burst through the door. Her face was wet with tears, looking fragile and pitiful. “Jenny, I’m so sorry. Sean was just trying to make you jealous. I won’t show up anymore. I won’t disturb you guys again.” She looked at Sean with teary, reluctant eyes, then turned to leave. She didn’t get far before Sean grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. His face was dark. “You didn’t do anything wrong, why leave? Don’t cry. I’ll make Jenny clarify everything for you.” He turned to look at me, his gaze turning icy. “Jenny, because your jump was livestreamed, Sherry is getting cyberbullied. You need to put out a statement explaining she’s innocent. She shouldn’t be dragged into this.” “Because of your stunt, people are calling Sherry a homewrecker. You need to apologize to her. You were wrong, and I won’t indulge your tantrums anymore.” I almost wanted to laugh. But then I realized none of this mattered anymore. I tossed my phone to Sean, my face calm. “Sure. Post whatever clarification you want.” “I just want to go home.” The System responded instantly: [Host, it will be soon.] I closed my eyes again. “Get out. Both of you.” Sean froze, surprised I didn’t fight back, but he didn’t leave. He unlocked my phone and quickly posted the statement. When he handed the phone back, his expression was complicated. “Jenny, after all these years, your wallpaper is still that photo.” I didn’t speak. I glanced at the screen. It was a photo of Sean and me holding a cake, smiling brightly, full of love. I felt a bit dazed. Back then, he wasn’t a movie star. He was a background actor, a stunt double. But when my birthday came, he spent every dime he had to buy me an expensive, beautiful cake. “Jenny, thank you for staying with me. From now on, I’ll buy you the prettiest, most expensive cake every year. We’ll be together forever.” Later, he got famous and kept his promise. But at some point, the cakes and gifts became cold and sharp. Eating them wasn’t sweet anymore. It just left a bitter aftertaste. I lay in the hospital for a week, spending every day thinking about how to die. The day I was discharged, Sean came to pick me up. Fans were swarming the hospital entrance. Seeing me, they started screaming abuse. “Jenny, go die! Why didn’t the fall kill you?!” “Manipulative bitch! Why are you so toxic?” “You framed Sherry as the mistress? You look more like the mistress! Who knows how many beds you climbed to get here!” I let it go in one ear and out the other. After so many years, I was used to the abuse. Sean thought I was tough, good-tempered, resilient. He often praised my “broad-mindedness.” In reality, I was just numb from the pain. I hurt so much I couldn’t change my expression. We finally shook off the fans, and Sean stopped the car in front of me. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Sherry’s flushed face. “Jenny, get in quick. Your haters are coming back. Let’s not get scolded together, haha.” She stuck out her tongue, smiling like a cat that got the cream. Sean wasn’t angry at all. He looked at Sherry with a smile, his eyes involuntarily soft. The passenger seat, once exclusively mine, had changed. There were small cosmetics, a mirror, and Sherry’s favorite plush bunny and snacks. These were things Sean had forbidden me from keeping in the car. He claimed it would damage the interior or get photographed by paparazzi. Thinking about it now… it just depended on whether he loved you or not. But. It didn’t matter. I took two steps back. I flagged down a taxi and went back to my small rental apartment. I sold off most of my assets and donated the money to charity. I was preparing a shard of porcelain to slit my wrists when the doorbell rang. Outside stood a grim-faced Sean, followed by a red-eyed Sherry. “Jenny, do you have to throw a tantrum? I honestly don’t know what you’re upset about now!” He sighed, looking at me heavily. As if resigning himself. “Fine. It’s your birthday today. I won’t fight with you. I bought a cake. We’re here to celebrate.” Sherry blushed slightly and stammered a “Happy Birthday.” My gaze fell on the necklace she was wearing. Sherry touched it, smiling sweetly. “Sean gave this to me. I liked it the moment I saw it. He said it was just a trinket and gave it to me.” Sean nodded, walking into the room and sitting down. “It was old anyway. Keeping it was pointless. If Sherry likes it, let her have it. I didn’t like it anymore.” I stiffened, stunned for a moment. That necklace was a matching couple’s set we bought when we first got together. It cost a few hundred bucks—not much—but he treasured it back then. “I’m going to keep this forever! It’s the proof of our love. If I lose it, punish me by never letting me see you again, okay?” Every year on his birthday, he loved wearing it with me. Starting last year, he stopped wearing it. I didn’t ask. I just didn’t expect to see it on Sherry’s neck. When the cake box was opened, Sean froze, panic flashing in his eyes. I stopped his hand from closing the box. I saw the words clearly: [Happy Wedding.] Sean and Sherry, Happy Wedding. “Th-they must have made a mistake. Jenny, you won’t be mad, right? It’s just a cake. We can scrape the words off.” Sherry looked pale, but behind Sean’s back, her eyes were full of provocation. “Jenny, I’m sorry. I messed up. I didn’t check with the baker carefully. I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to.” She cried hard. The guilt on Sean’s face vanished. He wiped her tears, cooing at her gently. Seeing me silent, his face darkened. “Jenny! Sherry is crying. How can you be so cold? It’s just a cake. I’ll buy you another one.” “Can you stop being so petty? Besides, you jumping off the building got Sherry cyberbullied. She’s already emotional, but she still came to celebrate your birthday. Why do you have to be against her?” I rubbed my temples, exhausted. My heart was flat. Sean was right. It’s just a cake. It has flaws. But was it only the cake that was flawed? “Sean, let’s break up.” Chapter 2 Sean froze, looking at me in disbelief. I didn’t wait for him to speak. My face was pale, my voice weak. “I’m going home. We won’t see each other again. I wish you a happy life together.” Crash. Sean knocked over a glass of water, standing there dazed. As if searching for proof that I was lying, he spoke hoarsely after a long silence. “Home? Where can you go besides my place? You don’t have a home! Jenny, stop making a scene. You have no parents, where would you go?” “If you don’t want to apologize to Sherry, just say so. I won’t force you. But you can’t just say break up like that!” I shook my head with difficulty. My body was getting weaker, my vision blurring. Sean panicked completely. As I fell, he rushed over and caught me. But he accidentally kicked over the black trash can. The blood inside spilled out instantly. My wrist, already cut, hit the floor hard. It hurt. “Ah! Blood! So much blood!” “Jenny! You’re crazy! Who gave you permission to kill yourself?! What kind of drama are you staging now! Jenny!” I couldn’t hear him clearly anymore. Sean. In this life and the next, let’s never meet again.

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  • Who’s the Real Homewrecker?

    At my mother’s funeral, my ex-husband’s girlfriend stormed in with a team of bodyguards and started wrecking the place. She thought I was his mistress. Priceless heirlooms and artworks, meant to honor my mother, were ripped to shreds and scattered across the floor. When I rushed forward to explain, she grabbed a fistful of my hair. “A homewrecker has a mother? Aren’t you all just things born but never raised right?” she shrieked. “For all I know, that’s just a jar of flour you’re using to scam my fiancé out of his money!” “Today, I’m going to expose you for the gold-digging parasite you are and ruin you completely!” A cold smile touched my lips. A homewrecker? It seemed she had no idea who the real other woman was. 1 After hours of managing the funeral, I finally found a moment to rest and check my phone. A “people you may know” notification popped up. I clicked on it. The woman was live-streaming, and she looked vaguely familiar. She was weeping about being tormented by her partner’s mistress, rallying a whole army of online supporters. The comments were a torrent of fury. It took me a moment to place her. Wasn’t that my ex-husband’s mistress, Amber? No wonder he didn’t have time to play the part of a supportive friend at my mother’s funeral. He was too busy putting out fires in his own backyard. Amber’s voice was thick with tears. “Everyone, that viper has sucked my fiancé dry of over a million dollars in just one month! We had to postpone our wedding because of her!” “And she had the nerve to send me the bills to flaunt it! I hired a private investigator to find her, and if I don’t teach her a lesson today, I’ll have lived for nothing!” “A homewrecker with a dead mother? And she has the gall to hold a funeral now? Her mom’s been dead for years, and she’s just now using it as an excuse to grift for cash? I’ve never seen a woman so shameless!” A million dollars in a month? I had to hand it to him. A leopard can’t change its spots. The man Amber had stolen was now being stolen from her in the exact same way. I clicked out of her live stream and scrolled through her old videos. They were a curated fantasy of high-end restaurants and luxury gifts. My ex had certainly spared no expense on her. She may have been cheated on now, but she’d profited handsomely before. Too bad a man’s affection is always in flux. Now, she was just like I had been when I first discovered Neil’s infidelity—desperate and broken. I glanced at the time. The interment was about to begin. I put my phone away and went back to the guests. I had just finished my words of thanks when a commotion erupted outside. Before I could even ask what was happening, a powerful force shoved me to the ground. A phone on a tripod was thrust in my face before I could get up. Amber’s voice was shrill. “Here she is, everyone! The homewrecker who’s been clinging to my fiancé! A vile creature, born but never raised right. Look at this washed-up hag, still trying to seduce men!” “Homewreckers deserve to die! If you’re going to destroy someone else’s relationship, you’d better be prepared for the consequences!” I pushed myself up on one hand, my brow furrowed. “You’ve made a mistake. I’m divorced. You have the wrong person. This isn’t the place for this. If you leave now, I can pretend this never happened.” She let out a wild laugh. “Did you hear that, everyone? Not only is she a hag, she’s divorced second-hand goods! All talk and no shame!” She swung the camera around the room. “This is the fake funeral she’s using to scam us out of our wedding money! Over a million dollars! What, is her mother’s urn made of solid gold?” I struggled to my feet as the guests stared, their faces a mixture of shock and morbid curiosity. For the sake of the funeral, I lowered my voice, trying to de-escalate. “This is my mother’s funeral, and I am not your fiancé’s mistress. I’m warning you to leave now, and I will forget this ever happened.” Amber sneered and pulled out another phone, tapping open her photo gallery. She shoved the screen in my face. “Look closely. These are the transfer receipts from my fiancé to you! Over a million dollars! What do you have to say for yourself now?” “And this is the chat log where he told me your mother died a long time ago! How are you going to lie your way out of this one?” “He might be soft-hearted enough to fall for your act, but I’m not! Today, I’m going to teach you the lesson your long-dead mother never could!” I stared at the screenshots, my frown deepening. I couldn’t believe it. Neil’s affair had literally shocked my mother to death, and now he was turning his mistress on me to slander my name. So that’s why he’d refused to come today. Too busy at work. An important project came up. All lies. He was waiting for his mistress to show up and reclaim the money for him, keeping his own hands clean. He got to play the good guy while I took all the blame. He hadn’t even told her he’d been married. When we divorced, I was so hurt by his betrayal that I didn’t ask for a single cent in compensation out of respect for the years we’d shared. And now, he was trying to claw back the money that was rightfully mine. It wasn’t about the money. It was my reputation they were destroying. Seeing my stunned silence, Amber gloated. “What, nothing to say? We were supposed to get married next month, and you ruined everything! You’re not leaving here today until you give back the money!” She held the phone up to her live stream, showing off the screenshots. “See, everyone? Am I lying? Count the zeroes! And look at the date he said her mother died! Her ashes are probably moldy by now, and she’s holding a funeral to scam my fiancé!” Her voice grew more shrill with every word. My face hardened. I couldn’t let her continue this circus. But before I could speak, she lunged forward and slapped me hard across the face. “Give back the money, now! Or I’ll tear that seductive old face of yours to shreds!” 2 This was the city’s most prestigious hotel, and a crowd of onlookers had gathered, drawn by the commotion. Fed only Amber’s side of the story, they started pointing and shouting. “So that’s why the hotel couldn’t be booked out today! There’s a whole drama unfolding!” “You can hold a funeral retroactively? First I’ve heard of it. These homewreckers have no shame when it comes to money!” “She’s so young, couldn’t she find an honest job? If her mother knew she was destroying families, she’d roll over in her grave!” Amber lifted her chin, her face smug. She walked over to a table, picked up a glass of wine, and downed it in one gulp. The guests at that table immediately scrambled away. The whispers turned to malicious speculation, assuming I was a mistress caught by my husband, that I deserved everything I was getting. My voice was ice. “I suggest you stop before you go too far. If you want to know who the real mistress is, why don’t you just call Neil and ask?” At his name, a flash of fury lit her eyes. She grabbed another glass and hurled it at me. The wine soaked my custom-made dress, worth thousands. If I hadn’t dodged, the glass would have shattered against my head. I took a deep breath, fighting for control. She turned back to her livestream. “See, everyone? The nerve on these homewreckers is something else! The evidence is right in front of her, and she still won’t admit it! What do you expect from a divorced old hag? She’s got the constitution of a cockroach!” She spun back to me. “I’m calling hotel management! I want a refund! Give me back my fiancé’s money, or you’ll be paying it back from a prison cell!” “He felt sorry for you because your mother died young, and you used that to manipulate him, didn’t you? Well, I’m not falling for your sob story!” My face was flushed with rage. “A refund? You have no right to say anything about my mother’s funeral! Get out, now, or I’m calling the police!” If it wasn’t for his affair, my mother would still be alive! Paying for a dignified funeral was the very least he owed me. Amber’s eyes widened theatrically for her audience. “Did you hear that? The mistress is going to call the cops! Oh, I’m so scared! Let’s see who gets taken away when they find out this whole funeral is a sham!” She shot a look at the bodyguards behind her. “So, you’re not giving back the money? Fine. Then everything my fiancé paid for, I’m taking back. Smash it all!” In an instant, a dozen burly men tore through the hall. The guests screamed and scattered. I could only watch in horror as they overturned table after table, my heart splintering with each crash. Amber filmed my breakdown, her laughter growing more manic. My mother’s portrait was displayed at the front of the room. As a few of the men got close, I cried out, “Stop! That’s enough! You want money? I’ll give it to you! I’ll give you the million! Consider it a donation to a pack of rabid dogs!” The men ignored me. The scene was chaos. Two hotel employees rushed to protect the portrait and the urn, clutching them tight, their faces pale with terror. Amber just laughed. “Oh, you’re ready to admit you’re wrong now? Didn’t think about the consequences when you were sleeping with my man, did you? And you’ll give me the money? It’s his money to begin with! You have no shame!” “It’s too late for apologies! Smash everything! Don’t leave a single chopstick!” My vision turned red. I lunged for her, for the phone, but a bodyguard intercepted me, pinning my arms and lifting me off the ground. She covered her mouth, feigning shock for the camera. “Everyone, did you see that? The homewrecker tried to attack me! Is there no justice in this world?” “What should I do? She won’t return the money, and now she’s trying to assault me! I’m so scared!” She said she was scared, but she walked right up to me. She bent down, picked up an intact plate from the floor, and swung it at my face with all her might. The porcelain shattered on impact, slicing my cheek open. Blood began to well up. 3 She aimed the camera back at my face. “How’s that? Satisfying enough? This is what homewreckers deserve!” “Everyone, hit that like button, share this stream! Let every immoral woman out there see this! You destroy someone’s relationship, you end up destroyed!” The hall was a wasteland. Every emergency exit was crammed with terrified guests. The two employees clutching my mother’s urn and portrait stood frozen in the middle of the devastation. Amber spotted them. “Get the stuff they’re holding, too! It’s all fake anyway, what’s the point?” A raw, primal scream tore from my throat. “NO! Don’t you dare! Don’t touch that!” I threw all my strength into breaking free from the bodyguard’s hold and sprinted across the room. I swear I had never run so fast in my life. But it wasn’t fast enough. The bodyguards tackled the employees, who dropped to the ground, covering their heads. The urn and the portrait tumbled from their arms. In the face of violence, they chose their own safety. My mother had died from the shock of Neil’s affair, and now his mistress was here to desecrate her memory. Just as a bodyguard’s foot came down on the urn, I dove, shielding it with my own body. A split second later, a heavy boot slammed into my back. A wave of agony washed over me, so intense I thought my organs had ruptured. Tears stung my eyes, and the metallic taste of blood filled my throat. The bodyguard, who had been smashing objects but hadn’t hurt anyone yet, looked shocked at what he’d done. Amber strolled over, camera held high. I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat. “Stop this right now, or I swear you will regret it,” I bit out. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Are you insane? He’s just a man!” She shoved the phone in my face. “Look at her, everyone, still threatening me! Are all homewreckers this arrogant?” “You didn’t seem to think he was ‘just a man’ when you were taking his money! Oh, I’m so terrified! Should I get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness?” She paused, then bent down, her lips curling in a sneer. “You’re protecting that jar of flour like your life depends on it because you’re afraid of being exposed, aren’t you? What a performance. You should have been an actress.” She straightened up and slapped the stunned bodyguard on the back. “What are you waiting for? Smash what she’s holding! It’s just flour!” “Is this how you tricked my fiancé? He might be a fool, but I’m not!” The bodyguard, recovering his senses, stepped toward me. I clutched the urn to my chest, my grip like iron. He couldn’t pry it from my arms and looked to Amber for instruction. “If one of you can’t do it, then two of you get on it! My fiancé will cover any trouble! Whoever smashes that thing in her arms gets twenty thousand dollars!” At the mention of money, the other bodyguards’ eyes lit up with greed. “Someone, please, call the police!” I screamed, scrambling across the floor. “I’ll give you a hundred thousand!” A swarm of them descended on me. I rolled and kicked, a desperate, cornered animal. “Get off me! Get away! Don’t you touch my mother!” 4 Finally, the hotel security guards heard the commotion and came running. Amber was out of patience. “A whole group of you can’t handle one woman? Are you useless? You want to get paid or not?!” She spun around and screamed at the guards. “Stay back! Or I’ll call the police! Get away from me, or I’ll have my fiancé buy this hotel and fire every single one of you!” After her threat, I felt the bodyguards’ efforts intensify. The room was a minefield of broken furniture. There was nowhere to run. Someone grabbed my leg and dragged me across the floor, right in front of Amber. Her face was flushed, her makeup streaked. She shoved the camera at me and yelled at the men, “What are you doing, dragging her to me? Do you want me to do it myself?!” The security guards were closing in. She was panicked. She grabbed a large shard of a broken vase from the floor and brought it down on my back. The sharp edge tore through my dress and stabbed into my skin. Blood began to pool beneath me. I clenched my jaw, refusing to scream. My eyes burned with a furious, crimson hate. Neil. Amber. I will see you both in hell for this. The wine from earlier stung the open wound, an agony of salt and fire. Amber was still shouting. “Hurry up, smash the urn! Step on her shoulders! Pry her hands open!” As I struggled, more blood flowed from the wound. In the distance, one of the security guards was on the phone, calling the police. When Amber heard him, she lost what little sanity she had left. She sat down hard on my back, right on top of the wound. A scream of pure agony was ripped from my throat. With me pinned, the bodyguards finally wrenched the urn from my grasp. One of them lifted it high above his head and, with all his might, smashed it on the floor. As it shattered, all the fight went out of me. My world dissolved into a cloud of blinding, gray dust. Across the room, another bodyguard stomped on my mother’s portrait, cracking the glass and the frame. The men were a frenzied mob, fighting for their prize. Amber finally seemed to relax. She turned back to her livestream. “See that? That’s what happens to homewreckers,” she panted. “And I’m not just going to beat her. I’m going to make her pay back every single cent my fiancé spent on her.” “Let this be a warning to anyone who even thinks about looking at my man. Your end will be worse than hers.” Just then, the wail of sirens filled the air. Police officers stormed into the hall. Amber spoke first. “Officer, this woman scammed my fiancé out of over a million dollars! Arrest her immediately!” I gritted my teeth against the pain and screamed, my voice raw. “My ex-husband’s affair drove my mother to her death. Today, his mistress destroyed her funeral. I want them both to rot in jail!” “I funded his company! I want them to pay back ten times the cost of every single thing they destroyed here today!”

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  • Klutzy Intern

    1 The new intern was a walking disaster, but my boyfriend, the department head, insisted on assigning her to me. He even wanted me to let her observe in the operating room. I warned her a thousand times: do not, under any circumstances, hand me the wrong instrument. She still swapped the hemostat for a scalpel. The patient bled out on the table. My license was revoked, my career destroyed. And the intern? She hid behind my boyfriend, her voice trembling. “Dr. Snook, I was just trying to help you finish faster… I didn’t know this would happen…” My boyfriend shoved me aside, his eyes filled with disgust. “Luna was just trying to help! You’re the lead surgeon, and you can’t handle one little complication? You have the nerve to blame her?” Heartbroken, I went home to pack my things, only to be drugged and knocked unconscious by him. When I woke up, I was strapped to a surgical table. I watched, horrified, as the intern plunged a scalpel into my femoral artery. My boyfriend just comforted her, “It’s okay. Just get some practice in. You’ll hit the right spot eventually.” I died from the excruciating pain, but not before they had carved 108 separate wounds into my body. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the intern’s first day. This time, I’ll make sure that damned pair becomes a permanent contribution to medical science. … “Dr. Snook, this is our new intern, Luna Vance. Have her observe your surgery today.” The familiar words sent a shiver down my spine. I stared at Luna, who my boyfriend, Mark Jennings, had just pushed toward me. In that instant, I knew. I had been reborn. Luna beamed, her face a mask of pure innocence. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Snook. I’ll do my best to learn from you!” But the surgery was already underway. The patient was prepped on the table. There was no time to think. I quickly pulled on a pair of sterile gloves. “Stay back. Don’t touch anything. And don’t make a sound.” The scalpel sliced through skin. My focus narrowed. “Surgical lamp, closer.” I fell into the rhythm of the procedure, my movements sure and swift. Without looking up, I held out my hand. “Hemostat.” In my peripheral vision, I saw Luna pick up a scalpel and start to pass it to me. This was exactly how it happened last time. I hadn’t noticed, and I’d reached directly into the patient’s abdominal cavity, severing the aorta in a single, fatal motion. The patient died. I lost my license. Mark blamed it all on me, his voice dripping with contempt as he berated me for not handling the “complication.” Then he drugged me, tied me down, and turned me into a living textbook for Luna to practice on. She carved into me, again and again, while Mark stood by, encouraging her. One hundred and eight stab wounds. I died in unimaginable agony. The memory made my hand tremble with rage. I snapped my hand back, away from Luna’s. “Luna, who told you to touch the instruments?” She froze, her eyes instantly welling with tears. “Dr. Snook, I… I was just trying to help…” “Help?” I shot back. “Help me what? Murder the patient?” From the observation room, Mark’s voice crackled through the intercom. “Ava! Why are you yelling at a trainee?” “Luna was just trying to help! Besides, no harm was done!” I ignored him, took a fresh hemostat from the scrub nurse, and expertly clamped the bleeder. “Get her out of here. The OR is not a place for her to play house.” Last time, because Mark defended her, my resolve softened and I let her stay. The result? As I was closing, she “accidentally” bumped my arm. The suture needle went astray, causing another massive hemorrhage. The patient couldn’t be saved. Afterward, she’d hidden behind Mark, sobbing, “I was just trying to cheer Dr. Snook on, I didn’t know her hands were so unsteady…” The memory of my own brutal death hardened my heart. I pushed all thoughts aside and focused on the surgery, right down to the final suture. “Surgery successful. Patient’s vitals are stable.” Just as I let out a breath of relief, I heard a loud bang. Luna, who was supposed to have been escorted out, had snuck back in. She had stumbled and crashed right into the suspended surgical lamp. The heavy fixture swung violently, hurtling straight toward the patient’s head. Without thinking, I dove forward, shielding the patient’s surgical wound with my own back. The lamp crashed into me. I gritted my teeth, holding my ground. My colleagues rushed to lift the heavy lamp off of me. I spun around before Luna could even begin her tearful performance. And I kicked her. Hard. Right out of the operating room. She tumbled onto the floor outside in a pathetic heap. Mark saw it and roared at me. “Ava! Are you insane? She was just observing! What gives you the right to assault her?” I pulled off my mask, my eyes cold as I looked at the woman he was cradling in his arms. “Dr. Jennings, your intern can’t tell the difference between a hemostat and a scalpel.” “She created chaos in a sterile environment, endangering the patient and nearly causing the surgery to fail.” “You ask me what gives me the right?” I advanced on them, step by step. “Let me ask you two something. Are you here to save lives, or are you here to commit murder?” Mark was speechless, his face turning a dark shade of red. In his arms, Luna’s sobs grew louder, her shoulders shaking pitifully. “Dr. Snook, I really didn’t mean it… It was my first time in the OR, I was so nervous…” “I just wanted to help you work faster, I never thought I’d cause trouble…” Mark patted her back, his voice full of concern. “Ava, she’s just a student. Do you have to blow this out of proportion?” “As her mentor, you should be teaching her patiently, not physically attacking her. Have you lost all sense of medical ethics?” Other colleagues began to gather, whispering amongst themselves. “Yeah, Dr. Snook is being way too harsh.” “She’s just an intern. They’re bound to make mistakes.” I let out a cold laugh, my gaze sweeping over the crowd. “On that table, the patient’s life is absolute. Any action that threatens that life is not a small mistake.” “Nervous? You’re so nervous you mistake a scalpel for a hemostat? So nervous you knock over sterile equipment?” “If I hadn’t reacted in time today, who would be responsible for the body on that table? You, Dr. Jennings?” Mark’s expression was one of pure, unadulterated arrogance. “Luna already told me everything! She said you pushed her because you thought she was in your way!” “I wasn’t going to say anything, to save you some face, but it’s clear now. If there was a real medical accident, you’d just try to pin it on her, wouldn’t you?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Did these two have no shame? “The OR has cameras. Why don’t we just take a look?” Mark snorted. “Look at what? Luna is a sweet, innocent girl straight out of med school. Do you really think she would lie?” “You, on the other hand, Ava, have become increasingly petty and small-minded! You can’t even tolerate an intern!” I looked at his face, contorted with disgust for me, and the last bit of warmth in my heart died. “Mark, we’re done.” He stared at me for a moment, then shrugged, a look of indifference on his face. “Fine by me. A doctor with no ethics like you is going to be fired sooner or later anyway.” “Don’t come crawling back to me when that happens, Ava.” He helped the sniveling Luna to her feet and walked away without a backward glance. I watched them go, a wave of nausea washing over me. Regret? My only regret was being blind enough to fall in love with a piece of human garbage like Mark Jennings in my last life. The wound on my back was a searing fire. I went straight to my office. A colleague saw the massive bruise blooming across my back and gasped. “My God, that must hurt like hell! Where’s Mark? Why isn’t he with you?” I managed a tight smile and said nothing. Thankfully, it was just a deep contusion. No broken bones. The next day, I had barely arrived at my department when I was summoned to the Dean’s office. “Ava, I heard about what happened yesterday. I know you were wronged.” “I’ve already given Dr. Jennings and that intern a stern warning.” I kept my eyes downcast, silent. The Dean sighed. “However, Mark is still the Head of Surgery. He says Luna is very talented and wants to give her another chance.” I refused immediately. “Dean, I can’t mentor her.” The Dean looked troubled. “Ava, I know this is difficult, but the Mayor’s son is scheduled for surgery next week. They’ve specifically requested you as the lead surgeon.” “Mark’s proposal is for Luna to continue observing under you for this one procedure. Consider it her final test.” The Mayor’s son. That surgery was under a huge microscope. He was handing me this time bomb again, hoping I’d crash and burn on the most important surgery of my career. Perfect. Just perfect. I was wondering how I was going to get them both at once. If they were going to offer up their own necks, who was I to refuse? “Fine. I agree.” For the next few days, I prepared for the surgery as usual. Luna shadowed me, acting uncharacteristically obedient. She brought me coffee, organized files—she was so diligent, it was like she was a different person. On the day of the surgery, the Mayor and a host of hospital executives were seated in the observation room. My procedure was flawless. Every step was a textbook example of perfection. Until the patient’s blood pressure dropped. We needed an emergency transfusion. Just as the scrub nurse was about to hand me a blood bag, Luna lunged forward, “tripping” and knocking it from her hand. It burst, spilling all over the floor. While my attention was on the patient, she immediately grabbed a new bag from the backup cart. “I’m so sorry… Here’s a new one, use this!” I connected the transfusion line and opened the valve. Almost instantly, the ECG monitor shrieked with a piercing alarm. The next second, the patient’s vitals flatlined. From the observation room, Mark’s voice boomed over the intercom. “Ava! What are you doing? The patient is in cardiac arrest!” “You must have nicked an artery! I told you your emotions have been unstable, you’re not fit to lead this surgery!” “This is criminal negligence!” Then came the Mayor’s voice, thick with anger and fear. “Dr. Snook, if anything happens to my son, your career won’t be the only thing that’s over!” “I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life in prison for medical malpractice!” The Mayor’s threat echoed in my ears. But I wasn’t panicking. The surgery had been perfect. It couldn’t have been my error. So what was it? I had been so careful to keep Luna away from everything. How could this still happen? My eyes shot to the transfusion line. A stream of distinctly darker blood was flowing from the connection point into the patient’s body. An acute hemolytic reaction. I ripped out the IV line. “Switch to saline, and prepare a diuretic, stat!” My command was clear and unwavering. The assisting physician and nurses moved instantly. I stared at the ECG monitor. The flat line began to flicker, slowly returning to a regular rhythm. Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief. But I felt no relief at all. I looked at the backup cart. The patient was Type A. The bag hanging on the cart was AB. “Who brought this blood?” The scrub nurse’s face was white with terror. “It… it was Luna. After the first bag was spilled, she’s the one who handed you that one.” Luna started crying, waving her hands frantically. “I just took it from the backup cart! It has nothing to do with me!” There was no time to argue. I had to finish the procedure. When the surgery was finally over, I walked out of the OR doors. Mark strode up and slapped me across the face. “Ava! The blood bags are delivered directly from the blood bank. Luna just helped pass one to you. How is this her fault?” “It’s obvious you didn’t cross-check the blood type before the transfusion, and now you’re trying to blame an intern!” The Mayor’s eyes, sharp as daggers, fixed on me. “Dr. Snook, I need an explanation.” Mark couldn’t wait to jump in. “Mr. Mayor, a mismatched transfusion is a major medical incident. As the lead surgeon, she bears full responsibility!” “Our hospital will handle this with the utmost seriousness and give you a satisfactory answer!” Luna chimed in, sobbing her apologies. “Mr. Mayor, I was just anxious about the surgery, so I handed her the bag… I had no idea Dr. Snook wouldn’t perform the pre-transfusion checks…” Her words were expertly crafted. She was completely innocent, and I was the one who had grabbed the wrong blood? I ignored them. I instructed a nurse to retrieve both the spilled blood bag from the floor and the remaining bags from the backup cart. The Mayor was losing his patience, demanding an immediate explanation. Otherwise, he would have me arrested for gross negligence. I spoke calmly. “Mr. Mayor, I have proof that this incident was not my mistake.” “It was a deliberate act of sabotage. Someone was trying to murder your son.”

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  • Harvesting My Ex

    During an interview, the host kept grilling me on why I broke up with my ex. I put on a pained expression and said, “I just couldn’t handle a long-distance relationship.” At that very moment, my ex was filming a farming reality show. He came back from the fields at midnight, saw the interview, and immediately raged on Twitter: “Bullsh*t. The walk between our dorms was five minutes. Five. Minutes. And you’re telling me you couldn’t handle the distance?” Consequently, the entire internet demanded I be shipped off to the farm. If we’re ranking toxicity, the host of a divorce variety show comes in second. No one dares to claim first place. They are ruthless. I get it. No sane celebrity wants to go on these shows. So when they finally caught a sucker like me, they had to dig for gold. She practically shoved the microphone down my throat. “So, Zoe, why exactly did you and your ex break up? We’re all dying to know.” I looked miserable on the outside, but inside, I was recycling every sad memory of my life just to keep from laughing. “I… I couldn’t handle the long distance.” She wouldn’t let it go. Thankfully, I was quick-witted and diverted the topic to another guest. But the unexpected happened. My chaotic ex responded. “Bullsh*t. The walk between our dorms was five minutes. Five. Minutes. And you’re telling me you couldn’t handle the distance?” The internet exploded. After all, Chase Sterling is a top-tier A-lister. I’m just a C-list actress. There’s no comparison. He came from a boy band, the most popular member by far. Now that his three-year contract is up and the group disbanded, his popularity has only skyrocketed. Every actress in Hollywood wants a scandal with him. It’s a faster way to get famous than actually acting. So when my agent slapped the contract for “Harvest Hearts”—a farming reality show—on my desk, I was stunned. I thought she and Chase had both lost their minds. “It’s because you have no filter,” she said. “Plus, Chase responded. You’re trending #1 worldwide. The internet is crowdfunding to send you to the farm.” I wanted to cry. Going on a reality show with my ex? That’s basically a death sentence. Especially with his fan base. I really can’t afford to offend him. I asked if I could skip it. My agent said no. She’d already signed the contract. So, she packed my bags overnight and shipped me off to the countryside. Before I left, she added, “I know it’s not appropriate for a girl to go alone, so I found you a companion.” I didn’t pay attention to her words. I was too busy panicking about seeing Chase again. It had been three years. The dirt roads in the countryside were unforgiving. My suitcase wouldn’t roll; I was basically dragging a dead body. I was dying of anxiety, but the camera crew just watched, refusing to help. Suddenly, a familiar, piercing voice rang in my ear. “Oh look, Princess Zoe can’t even walk. How precious.” My eyes widened. I looked up. Sienna?! Holy crap, why is she here? The whole industry knows we hate each other. She looked me up and down with disdain, then grabbed the handbag sitting on top of my suitcase. “Walk faster, short legs.” I opened my mouth to retort but couldn’t. Nobody can look at her 5’9″ model frame and argue about leg length. It didn’t matter. The rural dirt road punishes everyone equally. Soon, the wheels on both our suitcases were stuck in the mud. We were both ready to smash our luggage to pieces. Just as we were about to give up, a hand appeared in my field of vision, naturally taking the handle of my suitcase. I followed the hand up the arm. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt, thin lips pressed together, expression indifferent. “I got it.” I froze, letting him take it. My heart was trying to hammer its way out of my chest. It was Chase Sterling. Another guy took Sienna’s luggage, grinning at me. I recognized him. Jax. The youngest member of Chase’s old boy band. Following behind them, I heard Jax mumble, “Chase is such a dog. I ran over to help Zoe first, but he cut me off.” My footsteps faltered. But Chase didn’t say a word, just led me to the house. The live comments were scrolling across the screen: [My farming boy band has manners! Helping the girls with luggage!] [Chase took Zoe’s luggage!!] [Relax, guys. Zoe was in front, Chase was in front. It’s just geography. Don’t be delusional.] I realized the livestream had already started. The production team put us in the old accountant’s office. It hadn’t been renovated. Peeling paint, flying bugs, no cameras installed yet. Chase frowned and started cleaning. Sienna had already run off somewhere, too disgusted to stay. I started to help him in silence, but the moment I moved, he stopped me. “I never let you do this kind of work growing up, why start now? Go sit over there. I wiped the chair.” So I sat obediently and watched him clean. For a moment, it felt like the old Chase. Growing up, as long as Chase was around, I never had to lift a finger. He was a guy who couldn’t even take care of himself, yet he took care of me with meticulous precision. My nose stung, a wave of bitterness washing over me. If that incident hadn’t happened… Maybe I could have been with Chase forever. After cleaning, Chase pulled out his phone, looking a bit unnatural. “Add me back on WeChat.” I tilted my head, looking at him. He coughed lightly. “We spend most of our time in the fields. If you need something, just message.” I looked at him suspiciously. “Don’t you guys just yell across the field?” Chase touched his neck. “You’re a girl. You don’t have a loud voice.” I narrowed my eyes. Since we were kids, whenever he lied, he touched his neck. Uncomfortable under my gaze, he glared at me, raising a fist playfully. “Add me or I’ll beat you up.” I immediately scanned his QR code. A wise woman knows when to fold. Before leaving, Chase dropped a sentence: “Don’t overthink it. It’s just for work.” I shrugged, feigning indifference. “Oh. I didn’t.” The smile on his face instantly vanished. I was confused. Men. Who understands them? I sat on the bed and started unpacking. Sienna came back from wandering around, complaining the moment she stepped in. “What is this dump? I must have had bad karma in a past life to be stuck here with you.” She complained while making her bed, getting angrier by the second. “Ugh, this is annoying! Zoe, make my bed!” I realized then that Chase had only made my bed. I blinked, looking sincere. “I don’t know how.” Her eyes bugged out. Her expression was a masterpiece. I lowered my head. Boohoo, she’s cursing me out in her head, I just know it. In the end, she had to ask a production assistant for help. When the assistant left, she complimented my sheets. “Those blue fish sheets are cute.” I realized something. The sheets had a blue fish pattern. But I didn’t bring sheets. Chase brought them. Day two of farming. I was woken up at 5:30 AM. My brain was empty, and so was my stomach. I had heard them leave for the fields in my sleep, so I figured there was no breakfast left. I went to the kitchen. I planned to scavenge, but I found a bowl of soup covered in the corner. There was a sticky note: “Breakfast. Don’t die of hunger and blame us.” I knew that handwriting anywhere. Chase. I secretly pocketed the note and sat down to eat the wontons. Unfortunately, Sienna woke up. Chase had only left one bowl. Panicked, I pushed the remaining half-bowl toward Sienna. If I didn’t, she’d tear the roof off. She stared at the bowl, then at me. “Are these guys on a diet? They eat like birds?” I laughed awkwardly, secretly swallowing the wonton in my mouth. After breakfast, Sienna said she was going to balance the books. I had nothing to do, and going to the fields would just cause trouble. So I asked the director to take me to the market. I’d buy them some good food. “Boss, I’ll take all these fruits. And those vegetables.” I was a queen in the market. The livestream comments were flying. [Confirmed: Zoe is a 5-year Chase stan. These are all his favorites.] [OMG, she loves him so much. I’m crying. Get back together, please, do it for me.] [Wait, the director didn’t confiscate Zoe’s wallet? Did they finally grow a heart?] I clutched my wallet tightly. I had argued with the director for three hours to keep this money. On the way back, we passed a pharmacy. I snuck in when no one was looking. I bought a bunch of pain relief patches. Chase was visibly covered in bruises and scrapes. I was terrified he’d collapse in the field one day. Everyone had work to do. If he went down, his workload would fall on me and Sienna, the two idlers. I can’t handle hardship. So I had to buy him medicine. Yes, that’s exactly why. If Chase is healthy, I get to relax. “Harvest Hearts” operates on a model combining agriculture with a farm-to-table restaurant. But operations were tough in the beginning, so the restaurant guests were mostly celebrity friends. When I got back, I realized we had guests. “Zoe, how’s life treating you here?” Liam greeted me, and I snapped out of it. I ran over, surprised. “What are you doing here?” He smiled. “Heard you were farming. Came to see the spectacle.” I met Liam on a drama set. He took care of me during filming, and we stayed in touch. I checked the time and decided to start cooking. The girl who came with Liam was named Vanessa. I’d seen her on shows before, but we weren’t close. She eagerly came over to help. I was flattered. She seemed nice. “I see you bought celery. Chase loves celery. Let’s make a dish with it for lunch,” Vanessa said, waving a bunch of celery. My heart stuttered. I forced a smile. “You know Chase?” She nodded, looking nostalgic. “We filmed a web drama when he first debuted. I was his female lead. We were both idols then, knew nothing about acting. We spent every lunch break studying the script together.” It was a normal statement, but it stung. The comments added fuel to the fire: [Sobbing. I watched that drama! I shipped them so hard. I thought the ship sank, but it feels like they’ve been dating in secret!] [Chanessa is real! Rise, my ship!!] [They’re from the same agency, trained together before debut. Read between the lines, people!] I wanted to gouge my eyes out. Everyone started trickling back. Jax ran into the yard, shouting, “Zoe! Chase talked about you all morning!” I teased him. “Oh? What did he say?” He mimicked Chase’s deadpan face. “‘Zoe is an idiot. Can she even find breakfast? She’s dumb as a rock.’” Chase appeared behind him and smacked the back of his head. “Making up rumors about your brother? You want to die?” Jax shut up. Chase glanced at me. “He’s a kid. He talks nonsense.” I smiled and ignored him. “Zoe, want eggplant for lunch? I saw some ripe ones in the field,” Liam asked from behind. Before I could speak, Chase’s expression sharpened. “She’s allergic to eggplant.” Liam paused, looking at me for confirmation. I nodded, embarrassed. I hadn’t even reacted that fast myself. Vanessa smiled and took the eggplant. “Since Zoe is allergic, I’ll take these away.” I smiled at her and went to the stove. Just as I started to stir-fry, Chase snatched the spatula. “Go play outside. You don’t need to cook.” Wow, he’s looking down on me. I glared at him. “I can cook!” He glanced at me. “I know. But you don’t need to. The men in this house aren’t dead yet. This isn’t a place for you.” I blinked, my heart doing a little flip. Vanessa chimed in. “Chase is always like this, so considerate. Go play, Zoe. I’ll help here. I’ve done this before.” Chase was busy and didn’t seem to notice me, so I said “Oh” and backed out of the kitchen. As I passed him, I checked that no one was looking and shoved the pain patches into his pocket. “Payment for lunch.” I fled the kitchen. [Chase, you are too much!!] [Chanessa is so sweet, Mom & Dad energy! Zoe is like their kid, so cute!] [Zoe, what did you stuff in his pocket?! Mom does not approve!!] [Does anyone remember Zoe bought patches in town…] Watching the scrolling comments, I zoned out. This Chase x Vanessa ship came out of nowhere. I checked Twitter. They occupied three trending topics. Marketing accounts had released behind-the-scenes footage of them filming and training together over the last two days. It baited a lot of fans into shipping them. The hype was almost as big as when Chase responded to my interview… In the distance, Jax yelled, “Chase! We want spicy chicken today! Explosively spicy!” Chase nodded. Most of the ten guys on the show loved spicy food. I noticed almost every meal was spicy. Unfortunately, I can’t handle spice. So I snuck back to get my jar of chili-free mixing sauce. The comments asked what I was sneaking around for. I said I can’t eat spicy food, so I’m getting sauce for my rice. At lunch, Vanessa leaned toward Chase. “Chase, try the cucumber salad we made.” I pouted. “We” made? “I” is her. Who is “we”? Is saying my name embarrassing? Chase was talking to Jax. “I’m not eating…” I watched the refusal form on his lips, but when he saw the cucumber salad, he swallowed the words. “I’ll try it.” He reached out, took a bite, and paused. The atmosphere got weird. Vanessa asked with concern, “Is it bad? I didn’t taste it. Let me try.” She reached for her chopsticks, but Chase stopped her. “Don’t. The salt merchant must have died in this bowl.” Chase took another bite. “And there’s so much cilantro, just call it cilantro salad.” Another bite. “It takes talent to make cucumbers taste like this.”

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  • The Broken String

    When my childhood sweetheart, Leo, brought up that scholarship student for the third time, I teased him with a smile. “Do you think she likes you or something?” His expression turned serious, and he told me earnestly: “Sarah, don’t make jokes like that. She’s different from us. Never look down on anyone who’s working hard.” I pouted, feeling wronged. In the end, they both went to the top music conservatory in the country together. And I threw away my violin, went abroad, and switched to finance. The battle between the Red Rose and the White Rose had long since become smoke and mirrors. The day I returned to the States, he invited me to dinner and put a piece of fish on my plate. I subconsciously pushed it to the side. He froze, and silence stretched between us for a long time. 1 When I returned to the States, I only briefly told my parents. But the Zhou and Song families had always been close. So, seeing Leo at the airport arrival gate wasn’t a surprise. It had been years. He was still handsome. Features like a painting, an air of nobility, wearing a dark trench coat, walking toward me at a measured pace. Maybe it was that musician’s aura, but girls nearby were stealing glances at him. He walked over with a smile and naturally took the suitcase from my hand. “Sarah, tired from the flight?” “The AC is on in the car, go ahead and get in.” Seeing I didn’t move, his smile deepened. “Uncle Song asked me to pick you up.” I hesitated for a moment, then got into the back seat. “Aren’t you busy?” I asked casually. “It’s Monday.” “The Little Princess is back. Even if I’m busy, I have to come, right?” His eyes were deep, emotion unreadable. I looked away, waving my hand with a smile. “Stop teasing me. That’s such a childish nickname, it’s weird now.” He paused. But quickly returned to his natural self. “It’s been so long. Let’s grab dinner.” It was getting late. I hesitated. “Sure.” In the rearview mirror, Leo’s gaze lingered on me intermittently. I pretended not to notice, looking down to reply to messages. [Yeah, just got off the plane.] The reply came quickly. [You have fun in NYC first. I’ll finish up things here and arrive next week.] Just as I was typing, he sent another: [Exhausted lately. Miss you.] The London stock market had been active recently; he was probably busy with meetings. My heart softened. Seeing me looking down at my phone, Leo spoke softly. “Don’t stare at your phone in the car, you’ll get dizzy.” I froze. That familiar, caring tone. Gentle and doting. I couldn’t help looking up at him. It had been years since we fell out. We hadn’t spoken in a long time. Leo acted like nothing had happened. His smile revealed shallow dimples. I put down my phone. “How are my parents’ health?” This trip back was mainly to see family. Seven years had passed. I rarely obsessed over the past anymore. “Auntie was discharged a few days ago. The surgery went well.” His tone was relaxed. “Don’t worry, I was there, wasn’t I?” I fell silent. His uncle was a famous doctor in NYC, and the Zhou family had indeed helped a lot. I smiled politely. “Thanks.” The word hung in the air. Leo froze. I used to be a brat, making him buy me boba, demanding he massage my hands when they were sore from playing violin. Even acting helpless so he’d squat down to tie my shoelaces. I’d hug his neck with a grin, never saying thank you. He’d always flick my forehead helplessly. “You really have no manners. You have to grow up sometime.” At a red light, Leo rested his arm on the window. He asked casually: “And you? How have you been all these years?” 2 After I freshened up, he took me to a nearby French restaurant I used to like. The waiter served the steak. I replied nonchalantly, “Not bad. London is pretty nice.” Leo smiled gently. “I’ll visit sometime.” Halfway through the meal, watching Leo swap my red wine for juice, I said helplessly: “You know, I’m an adult now. You don’t have to do this.” He insisted stubbornly. “Girls shouldn’t drink too much.” There was a professional music stage in the hall. A few girls playing music on stage ran over with stars in their eyes to ask Leo for an autograph. He signed, whispering something to them. The girls covered their mouths, glancing at me, then ran back excitedly. Soon, a familiar melody began. My hand paused. Violin. Norwegian Dance. A complex piece, with the refreshing scent of summer. I still remember the summer I was 17. Leo sat beside me, patiently accompanying me through practice after practice. In the candlelight, his smile was tender. “By the way, Sarah, come by my house sometime. My parents always ask about you.” “And your favorite mille-feuille. The calico cat had kittens last year…” As he spoke, he naturally placed a piece of salmon on my plate. I looked down and pushed it to the side. Leo stopped talking. He was silent for a long time, rubbing his brow. Suddenly, he looked at me with exhaustion. “Sarah, after all this time, do you still hate me?” I stopped eating. Leo looked genuinely confused. “We grew up together. Just because I held her hand during the curtain call?” In the hall, the violin music continued to drift. At the next movement, the melody changed flavor, bringing up memories from even further back. Memories that made me angry, disgusted. Leo’s voice grew louder. His finger tapped lightly on the wine glass. “You gave up your music dream just like that? Never touched a violin again? Abandoned everything to go abroad alone?” He frowned. “And I just didn’t shake off her hand when she came close…” “That was on stage. Why have you always been so willful?” Many people nearby looked over. I stopped moving. Bringing up old history again made the complex tangle of emotions uncomfortable. My knife and fork clattered back onto the plate. I tilted my head, smiling with curved eyes. “Mr. Zhou, I’m sorry, I really don’t understand what you’re talking about.” “Youth, a beautiful first love. It’s a romantic story.” I looked puzzled. “Why should I be angry?” Leo stared at me intently. I picked up my bag and said calmly: “You have your dreams, and I can choose my own path.” “There’s no need to bring up past events.” I glanced at the stage and said honestly: “Besides, I think this piece sounds terrible.” The music stopped abruptly. As I turned to leave, Leo stubbornly grabbed my hand. His eyes betrayed no emotion. “So, you studied finance, which you’re not good at, and accepted a family arrangement?” “Married a man you don’t even know, just to get back at me?” He shook his head faintly. “Sarah Song, have you lost your mind?” I calmly pulled my hand away and whispered: “None of your business.” “Leo Zhou, from what position are you speaking to me right now?” His eyes were dark as ink. He opened his mouth but couldn’t say a word. I smiled. Before leaving, I remembered something. “By the way, I heard you and Mia were both named Principal this year. Congratulations.” 3 Headache was killing me. I went to a nearby cafe and ordered an Americano. While waiting, a short-haired girl in a business suit sat opposite me. Her gaze swept over me inadvertently. Surprise flashed across her face. “Sarah! What a coincidence.” The girl put down her phone and extended her hand happily. “Haven’t seen you in so long! I was your high school classmate!” I was a bit dazed. That period of time I deliberately erased had become blurry. “You and Leo helped me with tuition back then. I always wanted a chance to thank you…” Seeing my lack of reaction, she waved her hand with a smile. “It’s normal you don’t remember me.” “You two were so dazzling, helped so many classmates.” “A perfect match is perfect everywhere. You’re still super beautiful after all these years!” I was silent, looking down. The girl seemed to have opened a floodgate, gossiping excitedly. “By the way, you guys are too low-key. No news for so long.” “There was an interesting bet on the school forum back then.” “Red Rose or White Rose. The debate was fierce.” She sipped her coffee, indignant. “Pissed me off. How could Mia compare to you? How could she beat a childhood sweetheart…” “Miss, your Americano is ready.” I stood up, suddenly finding it funny. I remembered that. Seven years ago, arrogant and proud, I voted for myself under my real name in that forum. I never expected I’d be the one fleeing in humiliation. I turned and apologized. “Something urgent came up. Sorry, I have to go.” The girl didn’t mind at all. She waved at me with smiling eyes. “Sarah, when can I come to your concert? I’ll buy out the house.” I paused, pushing open the door hastily. Looking at her expectant and certain gaze, I didn’t have the courage to tell her. I had long abandoned that dream. I hadn’t touched a violin in seven years… Nights in NYC are always dry and cold, unlike the drizzle of London. Some memories can’t be forgotten, easily disrupting everything. My thoughts drifted far away. Back then, everyone knew I had two loves in life. One was the violin, two was Leo Zhou. No reason other than I knew Leo since childhood, and we started playing violin together. We lived in the same neighborhood, our parents were close friends. We shared a tacit, innate talent for music. We practiced in the music room together, read scores, competed. We knew everything about each other, shared interests, complementary personalities. I was proud and bratty, he was gentle and attentive. Growing up, we did everything together. Skiing in Aspen, getting into elite schools, biking home. He carried my bag, handed me boba, tied my shoes. Background, looks, talent—a perfect match. Back then, everyone thought I would become a world-class concert violinist. And then, marry Leo. But the summer of junior year, someone completely different appeared. Her name was Mia Guan. An ordinary girl. 4 The first time Leo noticed his desk mate was when he casually handed her a cup of boba. The barista messed up the order, and I was picky. He shrugged, about to toss it in the trash. “Um, can I have it?” A weak voice spoke up. Mia looked up at him timidly. On the way home, Leo mentioned it to me. “Seems like low blood sugar, no money for food.” He showed emotion for someone else for the first time. Arrogant as I was, I thought he was just soft-hearted. In the advanced class, Mia was the hard-working type, always at the bottom of the rankings. Always in a generic school uniform. Panicking and crying whenever she missed a beat on the piano. A cowardly look. Just an unremarkable, ordinary girl. But later, Leo talked about her more and more. Saying how excellent she had become, how much he admired her. Every time I disagreed, “But I’m clearly a hundred times better than her.” He would stop and say seriously: “Sarah, she’s different from us. Don’t look down on anyone who is ordinary but working hard.” Sometimes in class, laughter came from the back. Students turned to see Leo blushing, frantically covering Mia’s mouth. She blinked innocently, meeting my eyes. Sometimes when Leo brought me things, he’d bring a portion for her too. He let her use our practice room. He never refused her. Many people started joking. Mia was the White Rose (the pure, gentle love), I was the Red Rose (the passionate, intense love). One pure and simple, one proud and bright. The battle of Red and White Roses was talked about for three years. And that name followed me like a shadow, haunting me. Wherever Leo and I were. We were compared. “But with her princess temper, Mia is much better.” “Guys prefer the gentle type, understandable. Mia is really pitiful.” “Sarah Song is too competitive, but prettier than Mia.” Mia, Mia… I started getting anxious. I threw tantrums. I found it unbelievable. “Do you really like her?” He would always flick my forehead helplessly. “Don’t talk nonsense, it’s bad for her reputation.” At the school anniversary gala, Leo agreed to accompany her on piano. They performed flawlessly, winning applause. Nervous, Mia held his hand tightly during the curtain call. Blushing with joy, the usually plain girl looked somewhat pretty. And Leo hesitated, but didn’t shake her off. Photos were posted online. White shirt and white dress. Viral. Red-eyed, I threw away all his white shirts. We had a cold war for a long time because of this. From then on, seeing white clothes made me want to vomit.

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  • Blindfolded Shot, Fiancé’s Mad Regret

    After being the sole survivor of my last mission, I submitted my resignation to the organization. I hadn’t even been home for two weeks before I was packaged up and shipped off to be married into the illustrious Archer family of the capital. Flynn Archer, in a flashy sports car, sped past me, his eyes dripping with disdain. “A sheltered little princess like you, you’re not from my world.” A curvy, hot-as-hell secretary was in the passenger seat, provocatively locking lips with him right in front of me. He dangled a business contract over my head, forcing me to be his glorified assistant, subjecting me to endless humiliation. When someone gently tried to reason with him, he just sneered. “She wants to be Mrs. Archer? This is what she gets.” Until the day he took me to a shooting range. He raised a pistol, aiming it right between my eyes. “If you can beat me today,” he challenged, “the debt your family owes me will be wiped clean. I’ll even sign over that Westside development project. How about it? You dare?” … 1. I froze, my mind going blank. I couldn’t respond. My gaze was fixed on the gun in his hand. Memories flooded back, a silver needle piercing my brain. A sharp, stabbing pain. A contemptuous laugh brought me back to the present. I turned my head. “Everyone knows the precious Miss Thorne is a debutante, fresh from her studies abroad,” a woman drawled. “Her hands are for playing the piano, not for messing around with things like this.” Stella Vance flicked a lighter open, lit a cigarette, and then passed it to Flynn with her lips, her eyes daring me to react. Flynn was getting impatient with my silence. “Scarlett, are you in or out? Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.” I looked at him, my lips pressed into a thin line. Ever since I’d been forced into this engagement, he’d made my life a living hell. If I could settle things once and for all today, it would be worth it. Under his impatient gaze, I slowly nodded. “Fine. I’ll compete with you.” The shooting range fell silent for a moment, then erupted in laughter. “Hahaha, did I hear that right? Scarlett Thorne is going to challenge Flynn Archer in a shooting match?” “Little sister Scarlett, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Our Flynn might look like a pretty boy, but he’s got a firearms license. There’s no one in this city who’d dare say they could beat him.” Stella was practically doubled over with laughter, playfully poking Flynn’s chest. “Flynn, you’re so naughty. What if you hurt our dear Scarlett’s delicate hands?” Flynn just shot me a look of disgust. “She’s the one who insisted on following me. She’s like gum on my shoe, I can’t get rid of her.” I didn’t let their insults show on my face. The Archer family’s power had grown exponentially in recent years. My father had pulled every string he had to secure this marriage, begging me to keep Flynn happy. I’d been away from home for so long, and I felt I owed my family. That’s why I’d put up with it all. But now, he was serving himself up on a silver platter. I wasn’t about to turn that down. Flynn gestured with the gun, his chin tilted high. “You sure about this, Scarlett? Don’t come crying to me when you run home in tears.” I smiled faintly and nodded. “I gave my word. I’ll see it through.” He crossed his arms, a playful glint in his eye. “Don’t say I’m bullying you. Standard range rules: best of five, twenty rounds each. You just have to win one round. How’s that?” My eyes were fixed on the black hole of the muzzle. My heart skipped a beat. My hand trembled slightly, but my voice was steady when I replied, “Deal. Draw your weapon.” I went to change my clothes. Stella was still clinging to Flynn, cooing at him. I didn’t look their way. From the moment the staff handed me the pistol, my breath caught in my throat. The world went silent, except for the roaring in my ears. The sounds of crying, the smell of blood, filled my mind. Someone shoved me, and I snapped back to reality. It was Leo Vance, a notorious playboy. He gave me a lecherous grin. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone? I may not be as good as Flynn, but I can give you a few pointers, so you don’t lose too badly.” His greasy hand reached for my wrist. I stepped back, my face a mask of disgust. “Not interested.” His expression soured. “Playing hard to get? Flynn won’t even look at you. Challenging him to a shooting match? You’ve got a death wish.” He stormed off. Flynn and Stella were already at the shooting line. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Round one. Let’s begin.” 2. Flynn wrapped his arms around Stella, carefully placing a pair of noise-canceling headphones over her ears. He guided her hands, standing behind her, his body pressed against hers. The gun fired. From that one shot, I recognized it. A Sig Sauer P320. The 9mm bullet shot straight towards the target, but it felt like it was piercing my own forehead. The sound scraped against my eardrums. The color drained from my face. Dimly, I heard someone laughing. “Look at Scarlett. She’s scared stiff.” “I don’t get why she even came here. It’s just humiliating.” “Look at her. Can she even pull the trigger? She’s probably going to burst into tears any second.” The shots kept coming, each one a hammer blow to my frayed nerves. Seven-ring. Six-ring. Eight-ring… Finally, after twenty rounds, the torture ended. The range officer raised a red flag and ran over with the score. “One hundred and twenty-two.” The onlookers whistled. “It was all Flynn,” Stella said, beaming. “He was guiding my hand. I’ll practice more, I won’t let you down.” Flynn smiled at her, then turned to me with a frown. “You should be more like Stella. If you can’t do something, just admit it. This whole act is pathetic.” My face was pale, but I took a deep breath and stepped up to the line with my own pistol. Behind me, I heard Stella’s venomous whisper. “Flynn, keep an eye on her. We wouldn’t want her to actually get hurt.” He scoffed. “It would serve her right.” I raised the gun. It felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. The crowd was getting restless. “Hurry up! If you’re not going to shoot, get off the line!” I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and pulled the trigger. Bang. Miss. A wave of laughter rolled through the crowd. I didn’t hear it. My blood had turned to ice. All that was left was the ringing in my ears. Bang, bang, bang… When I took off the headphones, my forehead was drenched in a cold sweat. The range officer hesitated. “Uh, Miss Thorne… your total is… four…” Flynn laughed out loud. “Scarlett, why don’t you just give me that piece of land your family owns in the south district? I’ll let you save some face.” With what little was left of my composure, I shook my head. That was the last asset my family had. I couldn’t. His face hardened. “You lost the first round. You dare to go for a second?” My face was ashen, but I lifted my chin and met his gaze. “Continue.” Before the second round began, Flynn leaned casually against the shooting table, a smirk playing on his lips. “Scarlett, you can still back out. I’ll even let you keep a little bit of your dignity.” I didn’t say anything, just silently inspected the gun in my hand. Stella fanned the flames. “Flynn, look at her, she’s really putting on a show.” He sneered. “A show? She’s not even qualified to be an actress.” Then, a slow, cruel smile spread across his face. “Stationary targets are so boring. Scarlett, let’s play something a little more exciting.” He clapped his hands, and a staff member came running. “Go get some apples.” My stomach dropped. Stella’s eyes lit up. “Flynn, are you going to do that thing? That’s so cool! The last time I saw you do it, my heart almost leaped out of my chest!” Flynn’s eyes were locked on me. “We’ll put the apples on our heads. I’ll shoot yours, you’ll shoot mine. If you’re too scared, you can surrender now. Get on your knees and apologize to me and Stella, and I might consider cutting the original bet in half.” 3. The range erupted. “Holy shit! He’s not messing around!” “That’s our Flynn! That’s a real man’s game!” “Scarlett is done for. She’s probably too scared to even stand up.” “If her hand slips…” The whispers were like needles in my ears. An apple on my head. It meant I would once again be staring down the barrel of a gun. Not at a piece of paper, but at a living, breathing person. And worse, I would have to stand there and be his target. The bullet would whistle past my scalp, shattering the apple. Fragments of memory, accompanied by a splitting headache, assaulted me again. The metallic tang of blood filled my senses. My fingers curled into a fist, ice-cold. “What? Scared?” Flynn’s voice was laced with undisguised mockery. “You were so tough a minute ago.” Stella chimed in. “Scarlett, honey, this isn’t a game. What if Flynn’s hand slips… or what if you can’t stand still… Tsk, tsk. Just give up. It’s not embarrassing.” All eyes were on me, waiting for the show. They wanted to see me break, to see me humiliate myself, to see me beg. This was his way of crushing what little was left of my pride. I took a deep breath. “Fine.” Flynn raised an eyebrow. “Alright. You’ve got guts.” A nervous staff member handed us each an apple. It felt cold and heavy in my hand. Flynn walked to the designated spot, his posture relaxed, almost lazy. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Miss Thorne.” My hand, the one holding the gun, began to tremble uncontrollably. Not out of fear of him, but from a deep, instinctual revulsion to aiming a weapon at another human being. I walked to my position and raised the gun. In my sights was Flynn’s handsome, malicious face. The wind, my own breathing, the frantic drumming of my heart. Everything else faded away. But my hand was shaking too much. “Shoot!” “See, she’s scared!” “Look at her hand, it’s shaking like a leaf!” “I told you it was all an act!” The taunts rained down on me. I closed my eyes, trying to block them out. When I opened them again, I pulled the trigger. Bang! The shot went wide. The apple on Flynn’s head remained untouched. He hadn’t even blinked. He just stared at me. “Useless.” “Your turn.” He took the apple off his head and walked towards me, pointing to where he’d been standing. “Go on. Stand still.” Like a puppet on a string, I walked over and placed the apple on my head. A playful smile touched Flynn’s lips. He raised the gun with a smooth, practiced elegance. Time seemed to stretch. I could see his finger slowly tightening on the trigger. Bang— The bullet screamed past. I felt a slight jolt as the apple exploded, showering me with pulp and juice. I stood frozen, my heart stopped, a deafening ringing in my ears. A wave of applause and whistles broke the silence. “That was incredible!” “Perfect shot!” “Look at Scarlett, she’s in shock!” I slowly opened my eyes. He was standing in front of me, looking down, and he reached out to wipe a piece of apple from my cheek. “Looks like I win again.” “Scarlett, I suggest you just—” Before he could finish, I lifted my pale face and cut him off. “Best of five. There’s one more round.” Flynn froze. The whole range froze. His eyes darkened. “Scarlett, are you determined to see this through to the bitter end?” I wiped the sticky juice from my eyelashes, my voice surprisingly clear. “You’re the one who set the rules. Best of five.” He stared at me for a long moment, then let out a cold laugh. “Fine. Let’s see how long you can last. Round three, moving targets.” I looked him straight in the eye. “Flynn, if we’re going to play, let’s raise the stakes.”

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