Category: English

I dropped twenty-five hundred dollars on a dress for a review, and I couldn’t even get it on. I checked the sizing chart on the product page again and again. I hadn’t made a mistake. Defeated, I initiated a return. I never expected the seller’s response to send a hot rush of blood to my head. [To process your return, you must upload a video detailing twenty flaws in your own body. Then, strip completely naked and get on your knees and bow to the camera in apology.] [Each bow must be audible. As you bow, you must repeat, “I’m sorry, Mr. Designer. The problem is my body.”] I was furious. This was a flagrant violation of my dignity. I told them I was filing a formal complaint. The customer service rep couldn’t have cared less. “Go ahead. I’ve seen plenty of women with crappy bodies like yours. It’s just a few bucks in fines. We can afford it.” Unfortunately for him, he’d picked the wrong target. As a fashion influencer with over ten million followers, I was after a lot more than just a few bucks. 1 The zipper was stuck fast, halfway up my back. No amount of straining would budge it. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and the fabric around my waist and hips was so tight I could barely breathe. Finally, I gave up. With my last ounce of strength, I wrestled the dress off my body. It took a few moments to catch my breath before I picked up my phone, opened the shopping app, and navigated to the customer service page to request a return and refund. Before I could even carefully fold the dress, my request was rejected. [Your return/refund request has been denied by the seller.] I paused, realizing I probably should have messaged them first. That was likely the reason for the instant denial. I quickly opened the chat window. [Hi, the dress I ordered doesn’t fit. I’d like to process a return.] The message was marked as read almost immediately. But the same customer service that had denied my request in seconds now met me with a wall of silence. I tried initiating the return again. Again, it was instantly rejected. [Your return/refund request has been denied by the seller.] Frustrated, I sent another message. After another long wait, a reply finally came through. [We do not offer a seven-day no-questions-asked return policy.] The bluntness of the message stunned me. I was used to customer service reps starting every message with a nauseatingly sweet “Hi, sweetie!” This was a first. But that wasn’t the important part. I quickly pulled up the product page again. Sure enough, tucked away in the fine print, there was no mention of the standard seven-day return policy. Fine. My mistake for not noticing. But refusing a return on a product that was clearly defective was another matter entirely. As an influencer who had reviewed thousands of garments, I knew I couldn’t back down now. This was a twenty-five-hundred-dollar dress. I wasn’t about to let it become a very expensive decoration. Nobody’s money grows on trees. I opened my browser, screenshotted the relevant consumer protection laws regarding online sales, and sent them over. [Hi there. By law, most goods sold online are subject to a seven-day return policy, and women’s apparel is included within that category.] [Even if it’s not a quality issue, I have a valid reason for the return. I didn’t order the wrong size, nor did I misjudge my own measurements.] [The fact that it doesn’t fit is a problem with the dress itself. Do you require any proof from my end?] I kept my tone professional and polite, simply stating the facts without aggression. This time, the reply was swift. [Send pictures.] [Make them clear.] The clipped, impersonal tone was grating, but a request for proof was standard procedure. It was a breakthrough. A return was possible. 2 I sighed, looking at the dress lying in a heap beside me. Reluctantly, I picked it up. The last thing I wanted was to squeeze myself back into that torture device, but if it meant getting my money back, I had to do it. Besides, it would make for great video content later. The unforgiving fabric and impossibly tight waistline made the process an ordeal. Finally, I had it on again, the zipper still hopelessly stuck. I grabbed my phone and started taking pictures. The zipper that wouldn’t budge. The red marks the seams left on my arms. The way the waistline cut into my skin, creating rolls that weren’t normally there. I documented everything and sent the photos over. [As you can see, the zipper is completely stuck. The waist is far too tight, and there’s no room in the sleeves.] [I checked the size chart carefully before ordering. I’m a standard small, but according to your chart, I needed a large. I ordered the large, and it still doesn’t fit.] I typed out the message, breathless from the effort, hoping to convey my frustration. A few minutes after the pictures and message were marked as read, the reply came. [I can’t tell anything from these pictures.] I stared at my phone, bewildered. [How is that not clear enough? What more do you need to see?] The rep was unperturbed. [Send a video. A video of you putting it on and taking it off. I need to see how the entire dress performs on your body.] I rubbed my face in exasperation. He was deliberately making this difficult. Just getting the dress on and off was a workout. To film it without flashing the camera, I’d have to wear a tank top underneath, which would make it even tighter. But had I come this far just to let twenty-five hundred dollars go down the drain? I took the dress off again, put on a tank top, set up my phone, and hit record. I narrated the whole process, pointing out every spot where the dress caught or constricted. Once it was on, I showed the camera all the areas that were clearly too small, explaining each issue. To top it off, as I struggled to take it off, I ended up in a ridiculous, contorted pose that perfectly demonstrated just how ill-fitting the garment was. I sent the video and collapsed onto the floor, exhausted and overheated. I never wanted to go through that again. Photos taken. Video recorded. Surely, that was enough to get my refund. A few minutes later, his reply made my blood boil. [This isn’t a problem with the dress.] [It’s a problem with your body. It doesn’t fit because your figure is bad, and you’re blaming the dress. I’m not giving you a refund.] The words on the screen felt like a slap. I nearly threw my phone. Did he think I sent him a video so he could critique my body? Whether my body was “good” or not was irrelevant. This was a size large dress that a person who wears a size small couldn’t even get into. How was that my fault? I was seeing red, my chest tight with fury. Just then, a message from my friend Mimi popped up. I tapped on it, ready to vent. But the link she sent left me numb with shock. It was a link to a forum post titled: “She Blames My Dress for Her Lousy Body. My $2500 Dresses Aren’t Made for Trash Like This.” The cover image was one of the unedited photos I had just sent to customer service. Forgetting to even reply to Mimi, I clicked the link, my whole body trembling. “Can you believe someone had the audacity to return a $2500 dress? Do you know how much of my soul I pour into my work?!” “Her body is so pathetic she can’t even fit into a size large. Instead of reflecting on how disgusting her figure is, she blames the dress?” “I made her send a video, and she actually did it. Flat-chested, no ass, waist like a tree trunk.” “And she’s wearing a t-shirt underneath. What’s she trying to hide? Women like her shouldn’t even be allowed to wear dresses. Looking at her is an assault on the eyes!” The comment section was a cesspool of agreement. “She’s obviously just a cheapskate who wanted to wear a nice dress for some Instagram photos and then return it.” “OP, post the video! I want to see just how bad her body is!” I was about to explode. My fingers flew across the keyboard. “It’s a consumer’s right to return a faulty product! How dare you violate her privacy by posting her photos online? And what business is it of yours what her body looks like?” The original poster replied almost instantly, his tone dripping with venom. “Looks like I hit a nerve. You must have a hideous body too, right? Why don’t you post a picture? We can all see who’s worse.” A few people sided with me. “Dude, who are you to judge her body? Your design is clearly flawed, and you won’t even let her return it. From what I can see, your size large is smaller than a child’s medium. How can you sit here and talk trash?” The poster was relentless. “Another fatty triggered, huh? If you can’t fit into my clothes, it means you need to lose weight. Go get some lipo or something. Otherwise, your boyfriend won’t even be able to look at you!” One of his cronies chimed in: “Yeah! Keep messing with her! Make her send more vids! The kind we like!” The poster immediately replied: “Good idea. How about a naked one?” A moment later, a new message from customer service appeared on my phone. [If you want your refund, upload a video detailing twenty flaws of your own body. Be comprehensive. For example: breasts too small, thighs too fat, etc.] [Then, strip completely naked and get on your knees and bow in apology.] [Each bow must be audible. As you bow, you must say you’re sorry to the designer, that the problem is your body. If I see you are sincere, I will process your refund.] 3 I understood every word on the screen, but the combination of them made my blood feel like it was boiling over. He had already violated my privacy and posted my photos online for public ridicule. Now he wanted to subject me to this humiliating ritual. This was no longer about a simple return. This was a deliberate, malicious attack designed to break my spirit. I was shaking with rage. I had complied with all of his ridiculous demands, hoping to resolve this peacefully and exercise my basic rights as a consumer. But that was not a sign of weakness. He wanted me to insult myself, to prostrate myself naked and beg for forgiveness? Only a complete psychopath would demand something so twisted. There was a time when I, too, had tortured my body, chasing the impossible standards of a “size zero,” “thigh gap,” and “90-degree shoulders” that were trending online. It wasn’t until I broke free from that mindset that I realized the concept of a “good” or “bad” body is an arbitrary standard set by others. Health is all that matters. And now, this stranger, this customer service rep, felt he had the right to pass judgment on my body, to force me into his perverse mold of self-loathing. He had another thing coming. The last thread of my composure snapped. All the frustration and anger I had suppressed came roaring to the surface. I wanted to tear him apart. But as a seasoned reviewer who had dealt with hundreds of brands, I knew that lashing out would get me nowhere. A simple complaint or an angry tirade wouldn’t be enough to truly punish him. I needed irrefutable proof. I needed to make him say it himself. I took a few deep breaths, forcing the inferno in my chest down to a simmer. I typed calmly. [I’m sorry, the platform seems to have flagged some keywords. I can’t see your message clearly. Could you send it as a voice memo so I know what I need to do?] A gruff, male voice came through the speaker. “I want you to list your own flaws, so you have a clearer understanding of your disgusting body. Then, you’re going to get naked and bow down to me, to apologize for having such a trashy figure.” I recorded the entire voice memo, then took screenshots of our entire chat history, making sure the timeline of his harassment was crystal clear. I switched back to my chat with Mimi, who had been sending a stream of concerned messages. [Do you know a good lawyer?] She replied instantly, surprised. [You’re going to sue him?] I looked at the forum post, where the number of views and comments was still climbing. I clenched my jaw. [Damn right I am. A slap on the wrist won’t teach him anything. It’s time to go for the jugular.] But this evidence alone wasn’t enough. Not for what I had in mind. I didn’t reply further. Instead, I went to the shopping app’s main help center and found the “File a Complaint” button. I uploaded all the evidence. The platform’s response was slow. Finally, after an agonizing wait, a notification popped up. [We sincerely apologize for your negative experience. The platform will mediate this issue, and we will update you here with the resolution.] The next second, my phone rang. I answered. A familiar, gruff voice yelled through the speaker. “You dared to file a complaint?!” Here we go. This is what I was waiting for. I turned on my phone’s screen recorder, took a deep breath, and replied calmly. “Is this the customer service representative? You told me to strip naked and bow to you. Who else was I supposed to complain about?” A sneer came from the other end of the line. “Ha! You think a complaint is going to do anything? Big deal, they’ll fine me a few bucks. You think I can’t afford it? I’ve seen plenty of women with disgusting bodies like yours. And let me tell you something, I’m not some customer service drone. I’m the designer of this brand. If you don’t do what I say, you have no idea what I’m going to do to you.” 4 So that was it. He wasn’t some low-level employee. He was the designer. That explained his arrogance. He felt untouchable. “So you’re the designer? A man designing women’s clothing?” He spat a curse. “You women can’t do anything right. It takes a man to design clothes that actually look good. And let me tell you, it’s too late now. Even if you got naked and bowed, I wouldn’t take the dress back!” I let out a cold, internal laugh, but my voice was filled with feigned humiliation. “Then what do I have to do to get my money back?” His voice was thick with triumph. “Your body is trash, but your face isn’t half bad. So, on top of the bowing, you’re going to strip and do a little slutty dance for me.” “You’re one of those girls who buys expensive clothes just for a photo op, right? Your wallet is probably as empty as your head. If you don’t get this twenty-five hundred back, you’ll be eating dirt for a month.” “But if you dance well, if you make me happy… maybe I’ll even throw you a few bucks. Hahaha!” I waited for his obnoxious laughter to die down before asking coldly, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll post this online?” He laughed even harder. “A woman with a body like yours? You’d dare show your face online after this? Just do as I say and stop embarrassing yourself.” Perfect. I had all the explosive, damning statements I needed. I hung up, not giving him another second to spew his poison. Then, I immediately called my friend. “Mimi, have you found a lawyer? And have you reached out to the other influencers?” Mimi’s reply was swift and decisive. “All contacted. Everyone is fired up. They’re ready to clean house in the fashion industry.” “Good,” I said, organizing the files on my computer. “This time, we’re not letting them get away with it. This time, everyone is going to see just how toxic the women’s fashion world has become.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386855”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

As I was trying on wedding dresses, my best friend, Jennie, told me she had a huge surprise for me. I asked if she’d won the lottery. She said it was even more exciting than winning five million. Curious, I went to find her. I had just pulled up to her apartment building and was about to get out of the car when a barrage of text scrolled across my vision, flickering wildly: 【Don’t get out of the car! Her “surprise” is that she found the daughter you were forced to have when you were kidnapped.】 【If you get tangled up with that little monster, you’ll be dragged back to the mountains! They’ll beat you to death in a cellar!】 1 The message left me stunned for a full minute, until Jennie started spamming me with voice messages. 【Hailey, are you not upstairs yet?】 【Seriously, I’ve run myself ragged these past few days getting this wedding gift ready for you, and you’re dragging your feet. Are you trying to insult all my hard work?】 Jennie whined dramatically. The familiar, affectionate tone was enough to convince me that I must have been seeing things. It was just me scaring myself. Jennie would never be that kind of person. The text on my internal screen flared up again, frantic this time: 【You poor, naive girl, get a clue! She’s a manipulative witch. She’s been green with envy ever since she found out you were marrying a rich heir.】 【She found this little girl to mess with you!】 【The worst part is, the girl is bait! Her human trafficker father is hiding nearby, waiting for you to fall into the trap so he can drag you back to the mountains to bear him a son!】 My face went pale, and I sank back into the driver’s seat. If what the text said was true, this wasn’t about whether I trusted Jennie anymore. It was about the possibility of being kidnapped again. I couldn’t afford to take any chances. The stakes were too high. Jennie called, and I ruthlessly declined it, sending a quick text back: 【Something came up. I’m not there yet.】 I needed to buy some time. I could go to the security booth at the gate and ask if Jennie had really brought a little girl home. But the text stopped me again: 【Don’t get out! Your backstabbing friend is downstairs waiting to ambush you! If you get out now, she’ll catch you red-handed.】 Jennie was downstairs?! I peered through the car’s tinted windows and, sure enough, I saw her weaving between the parked cars, searching. After checking a license plate, she would press her face against the glass, trying to see inside. A sense of unease washed over me. I had clearly told her I wasn’t there yet. Why was she being so pushy? It wasn’t like she was hunting a criminal. The text chimed in: 【Because she knows you’re already here.】 【You forgot, didn’t you? Before you left, she specifically asked you to share your location.】 I slapped my forehead and quickly found the location-sharing app to turn it off. The text then advised me to put my phone on silent, which I did. But a deep sense of dread remained. All signs pointed to something being very wrong with Jennie. The truth didn’t even matter anymore; I just had to get out of there. Fortunately, I had been out with a coworker and was driving her car. Jennie didn’t know I was in this vehicle. I was about to quietly start the engine and leave when the text flashed a red exclamation point: 【Too late! The area is swarming with tabloid reporters and bloggers, all here for the big scoop: ‘Mountain Girl’s Tearful Reunion with Long-Lost Mother.’】 【Your “friend” planned this all along. No matter what, she’s going to force you to acknowledge this daughter today!】 【Only by forcing a reunion can she nail you to the pillar of shame for being kidnapped and defiled.】 It was true. I could never acknowledge a child forced upon me by a human trafficker. Jennie must have known that. That’s why she’d tipped off the media, to use public pressure to force my hand. The text, seeing that I finally understood, started offering advice. 【For now, just stay hidden. Without you, the show can’t go on.】 “Jennie, what is this big surprise you have for me?” I typed, my hands trembling as I huddled under the dashboard. Seeing my response, Jennie immediately tried to video call. I declined and told her to text me. 【If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise anymore. I can only promise that you’ll love it. Where are you? I’m coming down to get you.】 “Just tell me, is it something to eat, wear, or use?” 【Eat,】 she replied instantly, then immediately retracted the message and sent a new one: 【Oh, just stop asking! I told you, it’s a surprise. Don’t spoil the fun.】 I closed my eyes. The text was right. I’d been on a strict diet for the wedding. I had zero interest in food. Jennie was lying. 2 There was a reason I didn’t want to doubt Jennie. In my junior year of high school, I was kidnapped. And I gave birth to a daughter. Because I was a minor, the only people who knew besides the police and my family were Jennie, my neighbor and best friend. During the year I took off from school, she was by my side. She even held herself back a year so we could graduate together. She knew better than anyone how much I loathed human traffickers, how desperately I wanted to forget that horrific experience. So how could she, without a word, bring that child here and expect me to acknowledge her? For me, this wasn’t a surprise; it was a nightmare. To pull this stunt the day before my wedding, to lure me here and arrange for the media to be present… she was leaving me no way out. The text chimed in again: 【Your best friend has been trying to steal your fiancé for ages. After he rejected her, she never gave up. She’s been looking for a way to ruin things for you.】 【Then she stumbled upon the little girl’s ‘looking for mom’ post online and knew she had the perfect way to torment you.】 【That kid has been raised to be a monster. If you soften up and take her in, you’re finished.】 【Hang in there, Hailey. When the traffickers can’t find you, your “friend” will have to deal with the consequences of her actions. See if she’s so quick to play ‘find my mommy’ for someone else again.】 【Exactly! Don’t you dare give in. In the other version, after you die, your parents adopt Jennie. Then she seduces your brother and lives a cushy life in your family’s home.】 So, the text had already seen another version of this story. One where Jennie’s plan succeeded, and my compassion led me to acknowledge the child. She got me killed, then took my place, winning my parents’ affection, marrying my brother, and living happily ever after? As much as I didn’t want to believe I could be so foolish, so weak… without the text, I never would have suspected Jennie. And then all of this… I shook my head, trying to banish the terrifying thoughts. I knew what would happen. I would not let myself be chained to the floor naked again, eating spoiled food, stripped of all dignity day after day. Jennie finally found my car. After checking the license plate, she pressed her face against the window like a pancake, trying to see inside. 3 By now, I had quietly crawled into the trunk space of the six-seater electric car. Thank God for my coworker’s vehicle and its privacy curtains on the third-row windows. Jennie could stare until her eyes popped out, and she wouldn’t see me. She seemed tired of searching. Leaning against the car to catch her breath, she sent me a voice message: “Hailey, what are you doing? Come on out. I know you’re here.” I carefully shielded the light from my phone with my clothes and texted back, “The wedding planner had an emergency. I’ve already left your complex.” That seemed to do the trick. Jennie kicked the car door in frustration, her anger palpable. My heart jumped with the impact. “What rotten luck! Well, how soon can you get back? I’ll wait for you. I’m not leaving until I see you,” she cooed, her voice laced with a pouty disappointment, as if she were still my sweet, considerate friend who would never get angry with me. If only she hadn’t followed it up with another hard punch to the car window. So many years of blindness. Only now did I see her for the two-faced person she truly was. “Ruby, you can stop hiding! Come on out!” “Aunt Jennie, didn’t you say you had a way to make her acknowledge me today? Does she hate me?” A girl’s voice, unfamiliar and sharp with a thick, rural accent, approached the car. The kind of voice that belonged to a defiant, difficult child. Then, several other sets of footsteps closed in. “What the hell? This was supposed to be a mother-daughter reunion. Where is she? I can’t interview a ghost.” “I’m not waiting anymore. Just give me the woman’s info. I’ll expose her. A lovesick fool who abandons her own child. We’ll ruin her reputation.” “Then she’ll have to acknowledge the kid. The public outrage will bury her.” Jennie’s voice cut in, impatient. “Quiet down! We can’t let this get too big. Her parents and future in-laws are not people you want to mess with. We just need to handle her. She’s timid and soft-hearted. When she sees how pathetic Ruby is, she’ll definitely take her in.” It seemed Jennie had painted me as a selfish, heartless mother to get these people on board. Of course. If she’d told them the truth, who would help the child of a human trafficker stage a grand, public reunion? Another male blogger, hot-tempered and self-righteous, spoke up. “I can’t stand irresponsible women like her. You may be scared of her family, but I’m not. Let’s see them try to shut me up for telling the truth.” “Yeah, let’s just expose her! See if she dares to not acknowledge the kid then!” “A woman like that doesn’t deserve any respect!” With one person leading the charge, the others chimed in. Ruby’s tearful voice joined the chorus. “Thank you, uncles and aunts. I know you’re just trying to help, but I don’t want to make my mommy angry. Please, just leave her alone.” “Exactly,” Jennie said, taking the moral high ground. “You all get your moment of glory by exposing her, but what happens if she’s pushed too far? What if she acknowledges Ruby and then abuses her? Can you take responsibility for that?” Ruby sobbed, “Please, I’m begging you, just wait for my mommy. I know she’s not the person you think she is.” Their little performance quickly quelled the brewing storm. “Now, all of you, go hide,” Jennie commanded. “Don’t scare her off again.” The text on my screen was practically vibrating with rage: 【Here we go again. I hate it when this little monster fakes crying and plays the victim. She’s just like her grandmother—a master of manipulation and deceit.】 【Did you see that? While she was hiding behind that tree, she was pinching herself, leaving bruises all over, just so you’d feel sorry for her.】 【You, in your kindness, acknowledged her, wanting to give her a better life. And in return, she conspired with her trafficker father to kidnap you from your own home.】 【She has no empathy. She used to clap and cheer when she saw the other kidnapped women in her village being beaten. I think she’s a sociopath.】 【What really gets me is that she told the police, with a straight face, that the disobedient women deserved to be beaten to death.】 【But I think the “friend” is even worse. To get involved with a human trafficker over a bit of jealousy… as a woman, how could she be so cruel?】 The horrifying words on the screen made me tremble with fury. This Ruby had inherited her father’s cruel, cold-blooded nature, and perhaps even surpassed him. I had already experienced the darkness of humanity once, but today I learned that evil had no bottom. Watching them act out their little play in front of me was sickening. I sent Jennie another message: “I can’t make it today. My mom wants me to stay with her tonight. She’s sad about me getting married.” 4 Outside the car, Jennie stomped her feet in frustration. But she didn’t give up. She said she would wait for me, no matter how late. “Just bring the gift with you tomorrow. That’s it. I’m busy,” I replied firmly. Realizing I truly wasn’t coming, Ruby’s face twisted into a snarl. “That bitch is so much trouble. When my dad gets her, he’ll break her legs first, then chain her up. Let’s see her run then.” Jennie quickly shushed her. “Are you trying to ruin everything? Do you want a mother or not? Remember, in front of her, you have to pretend to hate your dad. Tell her he beats you, that you had no choice but to run away and find her.” A chill ran down my spine. Jennie knew exactly how to manipulate me, how to play on my sympathy. At the same time, I wanted to slap myself. Until a moment ago, I had been making excuses for her, telling myself she was just naive and wanted to help a poor child, that she didn’t understand the true horror of kidnapping. But the truth was, this was a premeditated plot to throw me back into the fire. The realization was a cold blow to the heart. From this moment on, she was no longer my best friend. She was my enemy. The failed plan left Ruby agitated. She kept complaining about Jennie and cursing me. “Ruby, be patient.” Jennie’s fingers drummed on the car door, her mind clearly working. “I’ve been thinking, and Hailey’s reaction today is very strange. I checked her shared location when I came downstairs. It showed she was here. Then, suddenly, she turned it off and said she’d already left the complex. The location sharing is real-time, and this is a one-way street. To leave, she would have had to drive right past me, but no cars have left.” Jennie’s voice dropped. “Keep searching. Go see which cars have a warm hood.” “What about this one? The hood is warm.” Ruby had, at some point, made her way to the front of my car. My heart leaped into my throat. 5 Jennie reached out and felt the hood. “It’s a little warm, but not hot. It’s probably just from the sun.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God she didn’t know much about electric cars and was expecting the heat of a gasoline engine. But then, she let out a slow, calculating smile. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll find her eventually. And on a 100-degree day like this, without the A/C on, I’d like to see how long she can last in there.” Damn it! I suddenly realized my back was soaked with sweat. My attention had been so focused elsewhere, and I’d been so nervous, that I hadn’t noticed the car’s A/C was running out of power. The air was already starting to feel thick and stuffy. A wave of regret washed over me. I wanted to slap myself. I had been too careless, too complacent. I thought that because I was in a new car, Jennie would give up when she couldn’t find me. What if she found me? Facing a well-prepared Jennie who knew all my weaknesses, and a manipulative Ruby playing the victim, I didn’t stand a chance. And with the media here, they would upload the videos immediately, and it would be too late. No, I absolutely could not get out of the car. Just then, the self-righteous male blogger came over to ask for an update. When Jennie told him she was certain I was in one of the cars, he grinned maliciously. “Simple. Electric cars have voice activation. Let me give it a try.” I was filled with a mixture of anger and panic. I curled up tighter, praying that my coworker had changed the wake-up command. The blogger squinted at the car’s logo. “So many new electric brands these days. I don’t even recognize this one.” But then he added, “I’ll just take a picture and search it online.” With the click of his phone’s camera, a bead of sweat rolled down my forehead. My nerves were stretched to their breaking point. “Found it! Let’s give it a try.” I was about to faint from fear. The text on my screen was a chaotic mess of panicked messages. I scanned through them and found a useful one: 【Contact your brother, quick! Last time, he was working nearby. When he heard about you acknowledging the daughter, he rushed right over.】 My hands fumbled as I tried to find my brother’s contact. “Hey, S—” The blogger had started to call out the car’s voice command. My vision went dark. Even if I messaged my brother now, it would be too late. “Hey, what are you doing? Are you the owner of this car?” Suddenly, a security patrol car pulled up, and a guard leaned out, yelling. A savior! I was on the verge of tears. Jennie smiled and walked over. “Oh, Officer Davis, it’s you! Working in this heat? Aren’t your bosses worried about you getting heatstroke?” The guard clearly knew Jennie and they exchanged a few pleasantries. Then he asked again if she was the car’s owner. Jennie put on a worried expression. “Officer, I can’t get a hold of my friend. I’m worried something might have happened to her in the car. I was just trying to see if I could get the window open to help her.” The guard asked, “Are you sure she’s in this car?” “Well, she switched cars today, so I’m not sure which one is hers. Hey, Officer Davis, were you on duty at the main gate about half an hour ago? Did you see this car come in?” It was over. The guard got out of his patrol car, walked over, and took a look. He scratched his head. “Oh, this car. Yeah, I remember it. It’s one of those new luxury electrics. It came in about 30 minutes ago. The driver was a woman.” 6 After the security guard left, Jennie stood by the car, her face grim, not moving. The male blogger was gleeful. “Well, what do you know? After all that searching, she was right under your nose the whole time. Isn’t that a coincidence?” Jennie’s face darkened further. He asked if he should try the voice command now. I clutched my phone, my knuckles white. Jennie didn’t answer him. Instead, she walked to the third-row window and tapped on it. “Hailey, you’re in there, aren’t you? Why did you lie to me? You know how worried I am.” Her voice was flat, but it held a barely suppressed rage. “That b—” Ruby kicked the car door hard. Jennie cut her off. “Mr. Chen, I’d like to talk to her for a minute.” The blogger looked confused, but he moved away. Ruby couldn’t hold it in any longer. “So she was hiding in the car all along, watching us run around like idiots! That bitch did it on purpose! Why are you still being so nice to her, Aunt Jennie?” My disgust for the child grew. Jennie kept tapping on the window and calling me. I stuffed my phone under the seat cushion and let it ring. I didn’t even dare to decline the call. “Hailey, you must have fainted, right? After all, it’s so hot today,” Jennie murmured to herself, staring at the window. Watching her expressionless face, a strange sense of dread washed over me. BANG! The car suddenly lurched. Then came Jennie’s enraged screams. “Hailey, why are you making me do this? If you have a problem, just say it! What’s the point of hiding? Do you enjoy seeing me make a fool of myself? I was trying to do something nice for you, and this is how you treat me?” I almost screamed. My heart was pounding like a drum. For a few seconds, I couldn’t breathe, and my vision went black. When I came to, the car felt like a sealed steam box. I had to tilt my head back and gasp for air, praying that my brother would see my message soon. “Hey, Siri!” she yelled, her voice filled with a desperate, crazed anger. She was done playing games. This was it. My breath caught in my throat as I watched the center console light up, the car’s ambient lighting turning on—but there was no voice response. Seeing a reaction, Jennie stood on her tiptoes, peering through the gap in the window, and yelled louder. After a few more tries, she had Ruby try. “You yell. A child’s voice carries better.” I finally got a clear look at Ruby’s face in the window. It was a chilling echo of that monster from my past. The sight made my stomach turn, and I quickly looked away. “Hey, Siri!” she shrieked, her face contorted, her eyes filled with malice. “Hey, Siri!” Her voice was raw by the time the car finally responded. “Vehicle is locked. This function is unavailable.” “Vehicle is locked. This function is unavailable.” I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t. I was starting to feel weak, on the verge of fainting. My brain was being starved of oxygen. “Aunt Jennie, it’s not working! Let’s just smash the window and drag her out!” Ruby started pounding on the car, yelling and screaming. The car’s lights flashed and the alarm blared. Finally, the noise woke up the residents in the building. Windows opened, and people started shouting. “What’s all that noise? Are you trying to wake the dead?” “If you keep hitting that car, I’m calling the police! Who are you people?” Jennie tried her usual excuse, but the angry neighbors weren’t buying it. Some even started throwing water down. “I don’t care! If you’re worried about your friend, call an ambulance! What’s the point of bothering us?” “I’ve had enough of you! I bet you were trying to steal the car, and now you’re just mad you failed.” “You idiots think you can just shout at a car and it will open for you? Get off the internet.” “So brazen, in broad daylight! Thieves these days have no shame!” Jennie and Ruby, already frustrated with me, started yelling back at the neighbors. I was grateful for the distraction, but I was running out of air. My mind was getting fuzzy. Through the haze, I heard a man’s voice, running and shouting. “Jennie! Where’s Hailey? What have you done to her?” 7 The text on my screen was a blur of frantic messages: 【Hang in there, Hailey! Your brother is here! It’s our turn to fight back!】 【Don’t fall asleep! Your brother doesn’t know the real Jennie yet!】 【Wake up and expose her!】 I pinched my thigh, hard. Ouch! Jennie’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered and rushed to take my brother’s arm. “Alex! What could I possibly do to Hailey? I was just worried she might have gotten heatstroke in the car. Why are you—” My brother was about to speak when the trunk of the car popped open, and I tumbled out, my face pale. “Alex—” “Hailey!” He lunged forward and caught me. “It’s the child from the village. Jennie called the media to force me to acknowledge her,” I managed to say before closing my eyes. My brother’s face hardened. Just then, the reporters and bloggers, smelling a story, swarmed toward us. My brother instinctively shielded my face with his hand. “It’s you people! You cornered her car and did this to my sister! If anything happens to her, you’ll all be held responsible!” He wanted to rush me to the hospital. “No, Alex, I can handle it,” I said, forcing my eyes open and grabbing his shirt. We had to clear this up now, before Jennie had a chance to twist the story. “But Hailey—” My brother looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of pity and conflict. I knew what he was worried about, but I nodded firmly. “I’m not afraid, Alex.” Just then, Ruby, trembling, tugged on my brother’s sleeve. “Uncle, my name is Ruby. I’m Mommy’s daughter. I’ve finally found you. I’ve missed you all so much. Mommy, I can do chores, and I don’t eat much. Please don’t send me away.” The media, who had been looking a bit guilty, were now filled with righteous indignation. “We were just trying to help a child find her mother, with the best of intentions. We didn’t know you would be so cruel as to hide from her.” “If you’re going to abandon your child, we’ll get a lawyer for Ruby and sue you for desertion.” The neighbors who had gathered around chimed in. “That’s right! You gave birth to her, you have to acknowledge her!” “Oh, look at that poor child. She’s obviously suffered so much, while they’re all dressed up so nicely.” “They probably just don’t want to be burdened by a child. Young people these days are so selfish. No sense of family, tsk tsk.” At that moment, Jennie, who had been silent, suddenly shouted, “Hailey, I’m sorry!” All eyes turned to her. With tears in her eyes, she looked at me sincerely. “It’s my fault today. I didn’t tell you beforehand, and I almost got you into trouble. But you told me you hated Ruby, that you would never acknowledge her, that sometimes you even wished you could kill her. You said she was your shame, that she ruined your life, that she should never have been born!” As soon as she said that, a chorus of curses erupted from the crowd. Jennie slowly moved closer to us, while my brother, his face a mask of fury, held me and backed away.

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Chapter 1 My best friend and I were bound by the same System. Her mission: Seduce the stoic, ascetic heir, Ethan, and break his composure. My mission: Capture the heart of my cold, adopted guardian, Julian. But Ethan spent his days meditating and ignoring worldly desires, treating her like air. And Julian was still hung up on his “one that got away,” treating me like a child for three years, never seeing me as a woman. After being tortured emotionally for too long, I decided to give up. “I’m so tired. I’m quitting. What about you?” I asked her. “If you quit, I quit.” We hit it off instantly. We pulled out our phones, calculated our savings, and prepared to take the money and run. “But… which one of us dies first?” “Whoever dies first goes home first. The survivor has to clean up the mess and handle the funeral.” We looked at each other. Chloe raised her hand first. “I suffered the most. I’ll die first.” “No way. Rock, paper, scissors. I can’t stay in this hellhole a second longer.” “Fine. Rock, paper, scissors.” Chloe threw scissors. I threw paper. She won. I stomped my foot in frustration. “Fine. You die first. I’ll collect your body.” … For the next two days, Chloe didn’t contact me. I was curious about how she planned to end it. That evening, just as I was about to call her, she called me. “Sarah…” Her voice was sluggish, slurred, and mixed with the rushing sound of wind. “Are you drunk?” My heart tightened. “Just a little,” she hiccuped, speaking in fragments. “Liquid courage… I’m going to do something big!” I jumped off the sofa. “I thought we agreed on next Friday?” Chapter 2 The plan was for her to leave in seven days, and I would follow after handling her affairs. “I don’t want to wait,” her voice was scattered by the wind. “Today is perfect. I want to die today.” “Sarah, I wanted to see Ethan one last time… I’ve been with him for three years. I know what position he wants just by a look… I’m so unwilling to let go…” “He’s having dinner with his first love… he won’t answer my calls…” “Three years… even a dog would wag its tail at me by now…” “But he still doesn’t like me…” “Ethan, that bastard, won’t even give me a minute on the phone… Since today is Bella’s birthday, I’ll make it my death day. I’ll make sure he never forgets today as long as he lives.” She rambled, her logic messy, but her intent clear. She wanted to leave tonight. She wanted to hear Ethan’s voice one last time. But he didn’t give her the chance. I couldn’t accept it. I wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. I grabbed my phone and ran out the door, my voice trembling. “Chloe, where are you? Wait for me. Let me be with you, okay?” “Sarah…” She ignored me, speaking to herself. “Jumping off a building is messy. You need to find the best mortician to do my makeup.” “And don’t bury me. I’m scared of the dark. Cremate me and scatter me in the bay. Make sure Ethan never finds me.” Chapter 3 Every word she spoke was a needle in my heart. I felt Chloe’s pain as if it were my own. I had watched her suffer all these years. I was shivering, but I forced myself to sound calm. “I’ll do whatever you want. But you have to tell me where you are. I want to be with you.” “No. I don’t want you to see… it’ll scare you…” The line went silent, leaving only the harsh sound of the wind. I searched the streets like a madwoman, screaming her name. Until my legs gave out and I fell hard onto the pavement. “Sarah, I’ll wait for you at home.” That was the last thing Chloe said. Thud— At the foot of the Jinmao Apartment complex, I watched Chloe fall. Like a broken butterfly, dropping from the eighteenth floor. Blood stained the ground red. Chloe died right before my eyes. I knelt helplessly beside her, touching her face, shaking and sobbing. “You loved being beautiful… how could you choose this way to go…” Even though I knew Chloe wasn’t truly dead—that we would meet again in our original world—seeing this broke me. I had overestimated my endurance and underestimated her weight in my heart. For three years, we relied on each other to survive the lonely nights of rejection. At the crematorium, I personally pushed her body into the furnace. I watched the flames swallow the smile she once wore. When the staff handed me the small urn, my tears broke free again. “Chloe… how did you become so small…” Chapter 4 I followed her wishes and scattered her ashes into the bay. The turbulent water swept everything away instantly. Just like her. Gone without a trace. “Wait for me… I’ll be there soon.” I whispered to the river. In my bag, Chloe’s phone suddenly buzzed. I picked it up. A message from Ethan. [Tonight, 8 PM. Wait for me at the Peninsula Hotel.] I laughed coldly at the screen. He was always like this. Never caring about Chloe’s feelings. He treated her like a tool to be summoned and dismissed at will. When he didn’t need her, he disappeared. When he did, she had to be there. But why? Just because she loved him, did she deserve to be trampled on? I didn’t reply. I turned the phone off. He missed his chance to see her one last time. Let him live with that regret forever. Chapter 5 I sat by the river until dawn before going home. The morning sun hit me, but I felt no warmth. I was exhausted, body and soul. The System required me to maintain the persona of a devoted lover. So in the past, no matter how ugly things got between us the day before, I would wake up at 6 AM to prepare breakfast for Julian. The System always comforted me: suffer now, enjoy later. After the conquest is successful, a man like Julian will spoil you rotten. But for three years, I tasted only bitterness, never sweetness. Now that my best friend’s affairs were settled, it was time for me to go. I picked up the fruit knife on the table and pressed it against my wrist. But I hesitated. I gestured a few times, then put the knife down. Julian hated me so much. If I died in his house, he would probably find it disgusting. He used to say I didn’t deserve the surname Shen. He said his brother shouldn’t have adopted me. That I was an ungrateful animal for falling in love with my own guardian. He said I deserved to be abandoned, deserved to be unwanted trash. But being abandoned wasn’t my fault. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t want to be a Shen either. But no one ever gave me a choice. Even binding with the System was forced upon me. I sighed and collapsed onto the bed. I accidentally fell asleep. In my daze, the System’s cold notification sound rang out. [Sarah Shen, your points are maxed out. The exit channel is open. Please prepare to leave by tomorrow evening.] I nodded in my mind. “Okay. I’m going home.” I woke up with a start. Overnight, I cleared everything related to me out of the villa. Braving the heavy rain, I threw it all into the dumpster outside. The rain washed everything away, including my last lingering attachment to Julian. From now on, this villa would hold no trace of me.

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I discovered I was the villainess in a BL novel only after my boyfriend cheated on me with my childhood friend. Right now, my boyfriend and my childhood friend are locking lips with unmistakable passion. With tears in my eyes, I offered my blessings, willingly stepped aside as the “discarded woman,” and immediately booked a one-way flight out of the country. No one knew that my boyfriend was a possessive psychopath. Three months later, someone blocked my doorway. My childhood friend licked my earlobe and asked, his voice dripping with grievance: “Yao Yao, you seduced me into stealing your boyfriend. How could you abandon me like this?” 1 I was comforting my best friend after her breakup. She got wasted. I half-dragged, half-carried her home. “Why is that douchebag here? Didn’t you say he was on a business trip?” The “douchebag” in Chloe’s vocabulary referred to only one person: my boyfriend, Shen Yan. A billionaire heir with a control freak streak a mile wide. No unauthorized friends. Three daily check-in calls. Phone inspections every night. Tonight, I had snuck out behind his back to drink with Chloe. I denied it instantly. “Impossible.” But I instinctively looked where she was pointing. My heart nearly stopped. I clamped a hand over Chloe’s mouth and dragged her into the bushes. Through the leaves, I saw it. My boyfriend was hugging someone. I almost laughed out loud. Yes! He’s cheating! Finally, a reason to break up! I raised my phone to snap a picture, eager to secure the evidence. I squinted closer. Wait. The person he was hugging… looked like my childhood friend, Lu Yue. My brain short-circuited. Holy crap. My boyfriend is gay! Chloe let out a violent hiccup and threw up all over the ground. I missed my chance. The couple had already walked away. I was so mad I ripped a handful of leaves off the bush. Chloe, finally processing what she saw, squinted and slurred: “That person the douchebag was hugging… looked like a dude…” 2 That night, I had a nightmare. In the dream, I was a supporting character—the villainess—in a BL novel. The “Top” was the billionaire heir, my current boyfriend, Shen Yan. The “Bottom” was my childhood friend, Lu Yue. And me? I was the vicious female antagonist Shen Yan settled for after failing to get Lu Yue. In the story, after discovering Shen Yan was in love with Lu Yue, I went crazy and tried to stab him. I ended up in prison, miserable and disgraced. Shen Yan lovingly nursed the injured Lu Yue back to health, and they lived happily ever after. On the day of their wedding, the day I was released from prison, I got hit by a car and died. I woke up speechless for a second, then screamed: “Bullshit!” What an insult. If I actually liked that dog of a man Shen Yan, I’d walk into traffic or choke on water right now. Who in their right mind would like a psychopath like Shen Yan? It was slander! Pure slander! I was so angry I started crying. A raspy voice whispered in my ear. Someone wrapped an arm around my waist and asked: “Baby, who are you cursing? Why are you crying?” 3 I looked up and met Shen Yan’s smiling eyes. My legs went weak. Last night, after dropping Chloe off, I tried to sneak home. The moment I opened the door, the house was pitch black. Before I could hit the lights, someone lifted my shirt, covered my mouth, pinned me against the wall, and kissed me forcefully. “Baby, you smell like alcohol. Where did you go?” He “stir-fried” me all night long. No matter how I tried to explain, he wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t understand. Did Lu Yue not satisfy him? Useless. I retorted immediately, full of righteous indignation: “I dreamed you cheated on me.” Shen Yan’s smile didn’t falter. His hand under the covers was tearing at my nightgown. This was the twenty-third nightgown this month! I held it down desperately. I continued: “I also dreamed that not only did you cheat, you came out of the closet!” The wandering hand finally stopped. Shen Yan stopped smiling. His eyes hinted at danger. Seizing his moment of guilt, I went for the kill. I said with absolute calm: “I want to break up.” Shen Yan laughed again. An angry laugh. “Breaking up over a ridiculous dream? Are you playing with me?” He pinched the back of my neck, gritting his teeth: “Don’t forget, you’re the ‘treasure’ your father pawned to me. “We only break up when I say so.” 4 Breakup attempt failed. I was locked in the “dark room” for a month. Shen Yan called it his “rut period” and claimed he needed my comfort. Honestly, among all the “beasts,” mermen are the prettiest. All sparkly and shiny. But eating the same dish every day gets old. Especially when that dish is a blackened, yandere, neurotic mess. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t chew it. I needed someone to share the burden. We’re all sisters here; I shouldn’t hoard the goods. So I sought out Lu Yue. Lu Yue elegantly cut my steak and handed it to me. “Yao Yao, you haven’t come to see me in so long. I thought you hated me.” That “Yao Yao”—so soft, so dripping with tenderness. No wonder he’s a fox spirit. In the past, that tone would have given me goosebumps. Lu Yue loved calling me that back then. Before he was reclaimed by the Lu family, he was even more twisted than he is now. Whenever he called my name, I knew I was in for it. A swarm of girls who liked him would get jealous and bully me. They’d splash water on me, scare me with bugs, pour boiling water on me, force me to run laps in the summer heat. Only by sticking to his side 24/7 could I avoid the torment. Which, of course, made me a thorn in the girls’ eyes. I knew it was all his sick game. When he was unhappy, he’d sic those girls on me. Then, when I was at my lowest, he’d pretend to be the kind, gentle savior, expecting me to be grateful. Lu Yue wanted me to fall madly in love with him, just like those girls. Because he said he liked me. But I didn’t like him, so he wanted me to suffer. I said coldly, “You’re overthinking it.” Lu Yue smiled and stole a piece of meat from my plate. A piece I had already bitten. “I still prefer Yao Yao’s things.” Lu Yue licked his lips, radiating seduction. Psycho. I cursed internally and gave him a dirty look. I asked: “Why did you go see Shen Yan?” Lu Yue looked at me, eyes full of doting affection. Like he was indulging a tantrum-throwing girlfriend. “Because you wouldn’t come out to see me, Yao Yao. So I had to go find Shen Yan.” He smiled again. “Shen Yan seemed much happier to see me than you did.” I jumped up in rage. My heels were too high; I almost twisted my ankle. My voice was shrill, bordering on hysterical: “You know how much I love Shen Yan, yet you go and seduce him! You just can’t stand to see me happy, can you?”

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The sixteenth time I went to bail Nathan out of jail. This time, I brought the divorce papers with me. Sophia was sobbing, her story tumbling out between breaths. “Clara, please don’t be mad. Some guys were harassing me at the club again, and Nate was just trying to protect me.” Nathan looked at me, his voice a soft, placating murmur. “Clara, can we please just talk about this at home? Don’t make a scene here.” Everyone stared at the bitter smile on the wife’s face. No one expected me to slap my husband across his. “Fine,” I said, my voice clear and cold. “You two can go home and get married.” “Just sign the divorce papers and leave me alone.” 1 A bitter night wind whipped through my hair. I looked down at the evening gown and heels I had so carefully chosen for the occasion, and a wave of self-loathing washed over me. I’d lost count of how many times Nathan and I had fought over Sophia. Ever since his ex-girlfriend had returned to the country, my emotions had been a runaway train. Even today, on my twenty-sixth birthday. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Nathan, telling me not to be angry, that he remembered my birthday and had a gift for me. Once, those words would have filled me with joy. That’s how it always was. He’d offer a gift, a small gesture of affection, and I would forget all my hurt and grievances, my love for him rekindled. But not this time. I scrolled through our chat history and saw the sixteenth apology for something involving Sophia. And in that moment, something inside me settled. The anger was gone. The hurt, the sadness—they had vanished too. All that was left was the tired certainty of knowing the ending before the story even begins. See? I knew what he was going to say. Every apology was because of her. The strange thing was, this time, it didn’t hurt at all. I bought myself a hot chocolate. And I walked home alone. For me, I guess love can die in an instant. 2 It was past five in the morning when Nathan, bailed out by someone else, finally showed up at my door. He hammered on the door, shouting that he wouldn’t divorce me. He broke a window pane to let himself in, bringing with him the cloying scent of Sophia’s gardenia perfume. “Clara, I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please, forgive me.” He reeked of alcohol and tried to touch me, to pull me into an embrace. He had no idea that the thick perfume clinging to him made me want to retch. I grabbed his wandering hands and threatened to call the police. His attitude soured instantly. “What’s the problem? We’ve been married for five years. What’s one more time?” “Clara, don’t forget, you were the one who said you didn’t mind that I had an ex. Now you’re going back on your word. You women are such fickle creatures.” Sensing he’d gone too far, he softened his tone. “I already apologized for what happened at the station. Can we please just stop fighting?” He reached for the sash of my robe. “I said, get out. If you don’t leave now, I’m calling the cops.” This was the small apartment I had bought before we were married. I have no idea how he even found this place. I could feel his anger building behind me, a familiar storm I had weathered too many times. I took him by surprise, grabbing a knife from the kitchen block. When I brandished it with a look of pure disgust and told him to get the hell out, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and a look of urgency crossed his face. He quickly tried to placate me one last time before stepping out to take the call. I knew who it was. Who else would he be so eager to talk to in the middle of the night? I could hear his voice from the hallway, laced with laughter and the soft, sweet tones he used to use with me, back when we were first in love. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to block it all out. I didn’t stay in the apartment. I checked into a nearby hotel. 3 I called my best friend. I needed a place to stay for a while. She was thrilled to have me. As for Nathan, I knew we were done. Truly done. I planned to have my things moved out of the apartment as soon as possible. My friend, a staunch bachelorette, knew I was heartbroken. She took a week off work and dragged me to amusement parks, determined to cheer me up. She knew me. Five years of love doesn’t just disappear. A part of me, deep down, was still holding on. We did everything I’d never dared to do before: bungee jumping, skiing, skydiving. Exhausted but happy, we finally headed back to her cozy little apartment. But Nathan was there, waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. He spoke first, his voice strained. “Clara. You seem to be in a good mood, now that I’m gone.” “Yes. You’ve been busy, and so have I.” I had no interest in making small talk. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly. “For ruining your birthday.” In the past, his jealousy would have been a secret thrill. Now, it was just… pathetic. “You don’t have to apologize. We’re not right for each other. When it’s over, it’s over.” I just wanted the conversation to end. He hesitated, a look of disappointment on his face when I didn’t explode with anger. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you,” I began. “I think this relationship…” He cut me off, as if he knew what was coming. “Clara, I’ve already compromised.” Seeing the look on my face, he backtracked. “I’m so sorry. It was my fault. Please don’t…” I shattered his illusion. “We are not a good match.” “And I need you to consider my feelings. Your birthday wasn’t the first time, but it will be the last.” “You can look at your chat history. The apologies are endless. So many that… I’m just so, so tired.” Nathan was silent for a long time. He couldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry, Clara,” he whispered. “Please don’t be angry…” I understood. He was still running. He knew there was a problem, but his only solution was to bury me in apologies until I gave up. The slam of the door echoed in the hallway. This time, I was the one who had slammed it. It was a release. An end to the emotional entanglement. A final, honest confession to myself. 4 I had already found a new apartment online. I hailed a cab with my two suitcases. As I settled into the back seat, my phone rang. It was Nathan. “Even if we break up, can’t we at least be friends?” he asked, his voice full of a bitter sadness. “I’m only just realizing what a terrible husband I’ve been.” “For the past two years, I’ve taken you for granted. I haven’t taken care of you.” “No wonder you left me. I was awful.” “Clara, I’ll change. I’ll be the man you fell in love with again. I’ll be even better.” “I won’t let you down again.” I sighed. “There’s no point, Nathan. We’re done. We don’t need to see each other again.” I hung up. I adapted to my new life with surprising ease. I was busy. Organizing my new home, buying furniture, focusing on my job, studying for certification exams in my spare time. My days were full from the moment I woke up until my head hit the pillow. It was a happy kind of busy. I never thought about Nathan. Not once. I didn’t care about his life, his relationships. I thought we would never see each other again. The world is a big place. Our paths had diverged. But one day, I came downstairs and saw him. He had found my new apartment. “What are you doing here?” I blurted out. “Coming home,” he said, pointing to the apartment across the hall. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “I’m not.” He held up a grocery bag. “I just bought some things for hot pot. Want to join me tonight?” “Nathan, are you insane? Why would you move here?” “I’m not insane. I’m being perfectly rational.” He was actually smiling. “You’re an adult. You have your own home. Why are you wasting money on rent? This place is on the opposite side of the city from your office. You’re almost thirty, why are you acting like a child?” He just smiled. “I’m glad you still care about me, Clara.” I tried to leave, to check into a hotel, but he wouldn’t let me. He grabbed my arm and tried to drag me back to our old home. “That’s not our home anymore.” “Nathan, you can’t un-ring a bell. Let’s get a divorce.” “Why are you so obsessed with getting a divorce?” He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. In his mind, I was the one who was always accommodating, the one who couldn’t live without him. We’d been together since college. He was the student body president, handsome and brilliant, with a legion of admirers. I was the quiet, studious girl. Everyone said I was punching above my weight. To be honest, at first, he thought so too. If Sophia hadn’t gone abroad to study, I never would have had a chance. So he couldn’t understand why I would want to leave him. He thought he was doing me a favor by choosing me. And a charity case has no right to make demands. He was searching for an explanation. He thought I must have found someone else. “Clara, are you just trying to punish me for neglecting you? I swear, I’ll never do it again. I promise!” “Can we just drop the divorce talk for now?” He tried to kiss me, but I pushed him away. The thought of him and Sophia made my stomach turn. I wanted nothing to do with him. That evening, he showed up at my door with several containers of food he had cooked himself. My heart sank when I saw the plate of shrimp. I’m allergic to shrimp. After all these years, he still didn’t know. I never ate seafood. I just ate some plain rice. He thought I had no appetite and tried to put a shrimp on my plate. “I’m allergic to shrimp,” I said flatly. His chopsticks froze mid-air. He retracted his hand awkwardly. “I’m sorry, Clara. I do remember, I just… my head’s been all over the place tonight.” “It must be because you mentioned divorce. You can’t joke like that again.” 5 His words meant nothing to me anymore. A little while later, his phone rang. It was Sophia. He was instantly frantic. “What am I going to do? Sophia is allergic to cats! She can’t be around animals! How could she be so careless?” “I have to go to the hospital!” I watched him pace like a caged animal, my own heart as still as a frozen lake. I kept eating my rice. If I didn’t take care of myself, who would? He rushed out without another word to me, though he did manage to shout another “sorry” over his shoulder. I couldn’t understand his obsession. Not long after he left, my boss, Leo, called. “Clara, are you free for a drink?” I thought for a moment, then agreed. Leo said he was nearby and would pick me up. I was surprised when he pulled up in a sports car. He was dressed as impeccably as always, but his usually cool demeanor was flushed with alcohol. Leo had gone to the same university as me, a year behind me. He was a campus legend—handsome, wealthy, the whole package. I never expected to end up working for his company. We usually communicated through messages; we rarely saw each other in person. Tonight, he’d invited me out, and honestly, I needed a drink. But when we got to the bar, he just started downing glass after glass of whiskey. “You know,” he slurred, “love is a ridiculous thing. Of all the women I’ve met, you’re the most… reli… able.” He passed out. I managed to get him to his car before I realized I didn’t know where he lived. I couldn’t very well take him to my place. So I took him to a hotel. And there, in the hallway, I saw Nathan and Sophia, coming out of the room next to ours. Our eyes met. We were all stunned. “What… what are you doing here?” Nathan demanded, as if I was the one who needed to explain. “What are you doing here?” I shot back. “Shouldn’t you be at a hospital for a cat allergy?” “I… I…” he stammered. Sophia glared at me. “I asked him to come. So what? You can bring a man to a hotel, why can’t he?” I laughed. “He can do whatever he wants. We’re getting a divorce. Your games have nothing to do with me.” A complicated expression crossed Nathan’s face. He grabbed my hand. “Clara, you can’t be so cruel! You promised you’d love me forever!” I yanked my hand away from his. “Nathan, I’ve caught you red-handed. Are you still going to deny it?” “Let me explain! It’s not what you think! Sophia and I are just friends! We were just talking about some things!” I pushed open the door to their room. It was a mess. Used condoms and stockings were strewn across the floor. “This is what you call ‘talking’?” He was speechless.

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My fiancé, Julian, and I went from high school sweethearts to nearly married. But on the eve of our wedding, he died in a tragic accident. I cried until I almost fainted, but suddenly, text messages started floating before my eyes. [Can someone tell the female lead that he faked his death?!] [Julian’s mistress ran away when she found out he was getting married. He faked his death to chase her to London! The female lead is crying at his grave while the mistress is crying in his bed. I’m so mad!] [It’s a pity. When he comes back from his ‘death,’ the female lead won’t know anything and will happily marry him…] Two weeks later. News of my engagement to the city’s most eligible billionaire spread across New York. Julian’s accomplice, his best friend, rushed over to confront me: “Julian hasn’t been gone for long, and you’re already in a rush to find someone new?” “He’s dead. You don’t expect me to stay a widow forever, do you?” 1 When the floating text first appeared before my eyes, I thought I was hallucinating from grief. But the text kept scrolling. [If the female lead goes to the rooftop now, she’ll know the male lead isn’t dead at all.] [She hasn’t eaten in two days because of him. She can barely walk. Why would she go to the rooftop?] I dragged my heavy legs toward the rooftop. Just a few steps from the top, I heard a voice I knew too well. It carried a hint of amusement. “Is my funeral over yet?” The voice was coming from Julian’s best friend, Leo’s phone. “Not yet, Julian.” “What about Chloe? Did she suspect anything?” Leo: “No, she’s been busy with everything. She almost passed out yesterday from grief. She’s probably still crying in her room.” Julian sounded casual: “Comfort her for me.” Another friend, Sam, chimed in: “But Julian, you really fell for that little bird, huh? Faking your death to chase her to London, even making us act along with you.” The floating text was real. I gripped the handrail tightly. Every cell in my body trembled. I heard Julian say: “Doesn’t matter if I fell for her or not. Just keep it from Chloe.” Leo asked: “Are you still going through with the wedding?” “Of course. When I get back, the wedding is still on. But before I get married, let me be crazy for love just once, right?” “Fair enough.” “Once I’m married, I’ll be tied to one person. No more chances like this. Haha.” The three of them laughed, sharing their secret. My blood froze. I shuddered uncontrollably. I had prayed countless times for Julian to be alive. But never like this. 2 [Ahhh the female lead knows the truth! I hope she wakes up!] [Go out there and tear that scumbag apart!!!] I didn’t rush out to expose them. I turned around. Calmly, I walked back down the stairs. After dry heaving in the toilet, I looked at myself in the mirror. I hadn’t slept for days. My eyes were red, my face haggard. I splashed water on my face and wiped away the tear stains. [As expected, the female lead chooses to accept it silently. So frustrating!] [She loves him too much. She probably heard him say he’d still marry her and decided to swallow her pride.] [I think she’s planning something big. She doesn’t want to show her hand too early.] When I walked out of the room, Leo handed me two tissues. His face was full of concern: “Chloe, don’t be too sad. Julian’s spirit wouldn’t want to see you like this.” I looked up at his fake, solemn face. “Do you think Julian might not be dead?” 3 Leo looked panicked for a split second. But he quickly recovered: “H-How could that be? His jacket and shoes were found. You saw them yourself.” A week ago, Julian drove into the river late at night. Police deduced he was swept away by the current while trying to escape. I stayed by the river all night, sleepless. The rescue team searched for days, only finding his coat and shoes. I nearly fainted from grief. Today was supposed to be our wedding day. I cried holding our photo until my head throbbed. Now they tell me it was all a setup. My grief was just a joke from start to finish. [The male lead is trash. Keeping a mistress is disgusting.] [I thought this was a sweet romance novel, but it turned into a nightmare.] [The female lead is a gorgeous heiress. If he doesn’t want her, plenty of others do.] The nausea in my chest eased slightly thanks to the comments. Leo continued: “Chloe, stop overthinking. If Julian could see you, he’d be heartbroken.” Heartbroken… Such ironic words. This morning I was thanking him for helping with Julian’s funeral arrangements. Turns out, birds of a feather flock together. 4 Following the hints from the floating text, I found the TikTok account of Julian’s mistress. I realized I had seen her many times before. She was a small influencer signed to Julian’s media company, named Bella. Her handle was “Bella’s Daily.” Her latest video showed the streets of London, clasped hands, and a reunion embrace. The small mole on the man’s hand was all too familiar. The caption read: “In our purest love, he left his arranged fiancée and traveled thousands of miles to find me. The wind of longing finally blew from New York to London.” The video went viral. Comments gushed over their “beautiful love.” “The runaway mistress and the CEO chasing her! It’s like a romance novel!” “I know this plot! The CEO actually loves you, sis. The fiancée is just a tool to make him realize his feelings~” “Rich boys are always so romantic. I want a sugar daddy too 😭” The floating text: [These comments must be bots. This isn’t a romance; it’s a homewrecker story.] [Calling it an ‘arranged marriage’ to make the cheater look good? The female lead’s actual arranged partner was the villain in the book!]

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The day Julian Hayes brought me back from that underground auction, he stood over me, cold and imperious. “I only bought you because I needed a new plaything. Don’t flatter yourself thinking I still have feelings for you.” I knew he hated me. He hated me for breaking our engagement years ago when he was at his lowest, stripped of his inheritance and dignity. So, even when he showered me with expensive gifts and affection later, I never forgot my place: just a toy. Toys don’t get to have babies. So when I found out I was pregnant, I kept it a secret. The day he left to pick up his “first love” from the airport, I didn’t make a scene. I quietly packed my bags and vanished. I thought he wouldn’t care. But later, I heard the rumors. That night, Julian tore the city apart, like a madman, looking for the woman he claimed he despised. 1 I was bored, scrolling through TikTok on the couch. The moment I opened the app, Julian’s face filled the screen. He’d been at a major business summit the past few days, and footage of him was everywhere. With his sharp jawline, tailored suit, and commanding presence, the comment section was flooded with thirsty fans calling him “Daddy” and “Husband.” But the internet detectives were quick. In one interview clip, someone zoomed in on his neck. There was a very distinct, very red bite mark just above his collar. The “Daddy” comments instantly turned into heartbroken wails. Who is the lucky girl eating that good?! She really went for the jugular. That mark hasn’t faded in days. Someone was hungry. Reading the comments, my face burned. I couldn’t help but remember the night before he left for the summit. He held me like a child, but his energy was relentless, almost desperate. He said he needed to “stock up” for the days he’d be gone. I was exhausted, crying, begging him to stop, but he just kept whispering things in my ear, not slowing down. In a fit of frustration, I bit down hard on his neck. Pain didn’t stop him. It only seemed to fuel him. That night, I genuinely thought I might not survive him. The next morning, Julian stood in front of the mirror, tracing the bruise with his fingertips. He stared at it for a long time. I thought he was annoyed. “I’m sorry,” I said, walking up behind him. “I can cover it with concealer.” “No need,” he replied instinctively. “Leave it. I like it.” Then he seemed to remember who he was talking to. He paused, his expression cooling. “Don’t overthink it. I just mean… it saves me a lot of unnecessary trouble. Works as a deterrent.” My heart sank a little. So, it was just a shield against unwanted advances. For a second, I thought he actually liked the mark I left on him. 2 I shook off the memory and looked back at the phone. In the video, a bold reporter asked the question everyone was dying to know: “Mr. Hayes, are you married?” Usually, Julian ignored personal questions. But this time, he smiled. “Not yet. But… it should be soon.” The reporter gasped. “Wow, congratulations! Can you tell us about your fiancée? What is she like?” Julian looked directly into the camera. “If the proposal goes well, I’ll introduce her to everyone.” My heart skipped a beat. Who was he proposing to? Me? Just then, I heard the maids gossiping in the hallway. “Did you hear? Miss Liang is coming back to the States soon.” The spark of hope in my chest was instantly extinguished. Right. How could it be me? I was the woman who kicked him when he was down. Miss Liang—Elena Liang—was the heiress who extended a hand to pull him out of the mud when everyone else turned their backs. Any sane man would know who to choose. 3 My father and Julian’s father were college roommates. Because we were born on the same day in the same hospital, they jokingly promised we’d get married one day. Years later, the Hayes family empire grew massive in New York. My dad, eager to climb the social ladder, wanted to make that joke a reality. Before I met Julian for the first time, my dad drilled it into me: “Be charming. Make him like you.” I was a bratty kid. “No way. Kissing up to people is for losers.” Then I saw Julian walking toward me. He was pale, delicate, and devastatingly beautiful, like a little prince from a storybook. I changed my mind immediately. Guess I’m a loser then. I ran up to him, eyes sparkling. “Hi! I’m Nina. What’s your name?” Julian looked at me warily and didn’t speak. “My dad said we’re engaged,” I announced. “That means you’re my future husband. And since your last name is Hayes, I’m gonna call you Hubby Hayes!” “Hubby Hayes! Hubby Hayes!” I chanted, jumping around him. Julian froze, a pink flush spreading across his porcelain cheeks. Adults started looking over, amused by the loud little girl and the mortified boy. “Stop yelling!” he whispered, covering my mouth. “I’ll… I’ll tell you. I’m Julian.” He dropped his hand. I grinned. “Hubby Julian, you have a pretty name!” He turned beet red. “You… you’re impossible!” He stormed off. I chased right after him. “Hubby Julian! Wait for me!” … I pestered him for years, all the way until our families officially announced the engagement. But the girl who chased him, who swore she’d marry him… she was also the one who walked into his house after his father died and the vultures stripped his family of their assets. I walked in and broke the engagement. For Julian, who was already drowning, it was the final blow. I’ll never forget that day. When he saw me, his eyes lit up with a fragile hope. And when I said “It’s over,” I watched the light die, replaced by a shattered, hollow despair. After that, he came to my house. He stood outside my gate for hours, in the rain, in the wind. Just wanting to see me. My dad asked, “Do you want to see him?” I swallowed the agonizing lump in my throat. “No.” Dad smiled, satisfied. “That’s my smart girl.” Eventually, Dad got tired of Julian’s persistence. He sent security to drive him away, using the cruelest, most humiliating insults imaginable. It worked. After that day, Julian Hayes vanished from my life. … I thought our paths would never cross again. But karma is real. My dad made bad investments and racked up millions in debt. He jumped off a bridge. My uncle took me in, pretending to care, only to sell me to an underground trafficking ring to pay off his own debts. That’s where Julian found me. He bought me. When he brought me back to his penthouse, he looked down at me with ice in his eyes. “I was in the market for a pet. Don’t think this means I forgive you, or that I still care.” I knew he hated me. So I played the part. The obedient pet. But I heard stories. I heard that Julian, who had just reclaimed his empire and was still fighting for stability, made enemies with the powerful Jiang family just to secure my bid at that auction. I heard that my uncle’s ruin—and the prison sentence that followed—was entirely Julian’s doing. These things… they made me hope. They made me fantasize that maybe, just maybe, he still loved me. … I shook my head, forcing the thoughts away. Stop it, Nina. If he loved anyone, it was Elena Liang. The Liang Corp heiress who saved him when I abandoned him. 4 “What are you thinking about?” A deep voice rumbled above me. I looked up to find Julian staring down at me. “Thinking about you,” I answered instinctively. Julian raised an eyebrow. He sat next to me on the sofa and pinched my cheek. “Seducing me?” He smirked. “A few days away and your techniques have improved.” My face heated up. He always did this. When I first moved in, I walked out of the bathroom in full-length flannel pajamas. He stared at me darkly and asked, “Who are you trying to tempt dressed like that?” Another time, I dissolved a Vitamin C tablet for him. He sneered, “Drugging me? I knew you had ulterior motives.” I learned to just shut up. Explaining never worked. 5 Julian was back, which meant my nights belonged to him. He kept me up until the early hours of the morning. My body was exhausted, and my mind was bitter. Men really can separate sex and love, I thought. He’s planning to propose to another woman, but he’s still using me like this. Scumbag. “Focus,” he growled, gripping my chin. “You have the nerve to zone out right now? Nina, you’re getting bold.” “I haven’t even punished you for watching thirst traps earlier.” Turns out, he saw my phone screen. Earlier, to hide the video of him, I refreshed my feed, and the first thing that popped up was a shirtless guy dancing. “It was the algorithm! I’m innocent!” I cried, clinging to his neck. He ignored my pleas and carried me to the floor-to-ceiling mirror. He sat me on his lap, facing the glass. One arm wrapped around my waist, the other forcing my chin up so I had to look at our reflection. He bit my earlobe. “Watch closely. Watch how I own you.” … Afterward, I slept like the dead. I didn’t feel him slip a ring onto my left ring finger while I slept. He examined my hand, whispering to himself, “A little loose. I’ll get it resized tomorrow.” He took the ring back, then pinched my cheek, muttering through gritted teeth, “Nina, if you dare say no when I propose, you’re dead.” He told himself this was punishment. Since I abandoned him so ruthlessly, he would trap me in a marriage, bind me to him for life. Yes. It was just revenge. Definitely not because he couldn’t live without me. Julian lowered his eyes, repeating the lie to himself.

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I left the window open on purpose, letting the Don hear me with other men all night. The next morning, his face was dark. He asked how many there were, and if there was room for one more. But I was already in the arms of my companions and refused him coldly. His eyes were bloodshot, but he didn’t dare come closer. Why? After ten years of fighting to win him his empire, he was marrying some college girl instead of me. Even his crew defended me, reminding him how I stood by him. But Cain Thorne just stroked the matching ring he wore with his new love and sneered, “Kira? She’s covered in blood. The thought of her repulses me.” When warned that I might turn on him, he scoffed, “So what if I lose her?” He never knew I heard every word. I dropped the medical supplies I brought for him into the trash and texted his enemy: “Cain’s turf and his life. Want them? They’re yours.” 1. I was in the middle of arranging for a speedboat to get me off the island when Cain found me. “There’s a big shipment arriving the day after tomorrow. I need you to personally oversee the pickup with your best men. And clear out your house. I need it.” He gave the order in his usual deep, serious tone, but all I could feel was a bitter, rising laughter. To marry his sweet Lily, he was willing to throw me to the wolves. He’d let our main stronghold be vulnerable to Silas’s attack, just so I could risk my life to bring his little flower back to him. He really was madly in love. He needed my house? For what? To give to Lily, of course. I replied with a cold, flat, “Okay.” My lack of reaction clearly annoyed him. He scowled. “What’s with the attitude now? The only reason I haven’t made our relationship public is because things are unstable. Silas is watching our every move. I can’t let the whole crew drop their guard for one person.” He always did this, twisting things to make it seem like my fault. “Your most important job right now,” he continued, “is to help me break Silas’s blockade.” I used to think this was his way of protecting me. It made me fight harder for him, scheme for him, bleed for him. Now, it just sounded pathetic. I placed the requisition form for the boat on the desk in front of him. “There’s no attitude,” I said tonelessly. “I’m used to it.” He sensed something was off. A flash of irritation crossed his eyes, and he signed the form with such force that the pen tore through the paper. “Kira! What’s with the damn face? It’s just a house! Everything on this island belongs to me. Even your life belongs to me. Are you telling me I can’t even give you an order anymore?” He threw the paper at my face. “And from now on, don’t bother me with trivial crap like supply runs. I don’t have time for you.” He’d misunderstood the form, but I didn’t bother to correct him. I just gave a noncommittal nod, turned, and walked out. Seeing the signed paper that guaranteed my escape, a slow, genuine smile spread across my face. I’d been with Cain for ten years. We were childhood friends, partners who’d trust each other with our lives, and passionate lovers. I had always dreamed of marrying him. He’d even hinted at it himself—once he had Port Sterling in the palm of his hand, he’d give me everything I wanted. But I saw the truth now. It was all a lie, woven from my own foolish hopes and his calculated manipulation. And now, he was marrying someone else. That night, a team of heavily armed mercenaries escorted Lily to the island. She was a vision in a flowing white dress, her innocent eyes shining with a smug, triumphant light. “You’ve worked so hard for Cain for over a decade, Kira. You deserve a reward.” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll be sure to have him promote you. Maybe get you a few boy toys, too. We can’t let your personal life suffer, can we?” She sighed dramatically. “Unlike me. Cain just couldn’t wait another second. He insisted we get married tomorrow. Can you believe it?” My hand tightened on the grip of my pistol. It took every ounce of my self-control not to put a bullet between her eyes. “Let’s go,” I said, giving her a dismissive glance and turning to leave. But she stepped in my way, pulling a diary from her purse. “These are all the love notes Cain wrote for me over the years, whenever he missed me,” she said with a sly little smile. “It’s getting a bit heavy to carry around. Would you be a doll and throw it out for me?” With a final, triumphant swish of her skirt, she walked away. I stood there, the cold wind whipping off the rocks, and with trembling fingers, I opened the book. April 12th, 2024. The day I shielded him with my body as we fought our way out of an ambush. He had written: “Lily, if I make it out of this alive, I’ll marry you.” August 5th, 2023. The day I heard Silas had ambushed him on a business trip. I’d grabbed two cleavers and charged into the enemy camp alone to rescue him. He had written: “My darling, you smelled so sweet today.” January 24th, 2021. The day he was arrested, and I was about to take the fall for him. He had written: “If it were you, my love, I would never let you suffer like this.” Every word was a knife in my heart, twisting and turning, leaving me bleeding. How many times had I begged him to marry me? He would always just kiss my forehead and say, “Wait for me, Kira. Just a little longer. I have too many enemies. I need to clear the way for you first. Once I own all of Port Sterling, I’ll marry you. Okay?” But my pleas were always met with empty promises. Just then, my phone buzzed with a reply. Two short words, but they were a point of no return. “Deal.” My finger hovered over the screen. I had to know. I typed back to Silas: “August 5th, 2024. Was it you who ambushed Cain?” The reply was instantaneous, practically screaming with indignation: “I was framed! So that’s why you chased me for nine blocks with two damn cleavers? It wasn’t me!” A bitter, self-mocking laugh escaped me. So, I was just a clown in Cain’s eyes. A toy to be played with. If that’s all I was, why should I stick around for their amusement? I finalized the details with Silas and started walking back, only to overhear Cain talking with his men by the yacht. “Boss, the wedding dress has arrived. It’s the one from the Royal Auction, just like you wanted. Ten million dollars.” “I’m just worried about Kira… if she makes a scene and exposes our location, we could all be wiped out…” Cain was dismissive. “I love Lily. She will be my only wife. Tomorrow’s wedding has to be perfect. I won’t allow any interruptions. Not even from Kira. I’ll make sure she stays quiet.” His voice dropped, turning deadly. “And watch your damn mouths. If a single word of this leaks, I’ll feed whoever spoke to the sharks.” Even though I’d already made my decision, hearing the man who once swore he loved me more than life itself deceive me, belittle me, and cast me aside… it still hurt. A thousand tiny needles piercing my heart. Back in my room, I packed a bag. Aside from my ID and passport, I looked around at the arsenal of knives and guns that filled my closets and realized Cain had never given me anything else. He only ever gave me weapons, telling me to protect him. I had asked for dresses and jewelry once. He’d scoffed. “Kira, you could be wearing a gown and diamonds and you still wouldn’t look like a woman. Don’t waste your time.” But Lily’s luggage contained a truckload of jewels and beautiful dresses. Why could she wear them, but I couldn’t? I dug through my closet and found it—a red dress, buried at the very bottom. I put it on, slipped on a pair of high heels, and even did my makeup. Just then, the door burst open and Lily strode in. “Kira, you’ve read the diary, haven’t you? Cain’s favorite…” Her words died in her throat when she saw me. My transformation from a hardened enforcer to a dangerously beautiful woman left her speechless. When she recovered, her brow furrowed in a sneer. “I thought you’d have some dignity. I thought you’d just quietly disappear once you knew he didn’t love you. But you’re actually trying to seduce him? You shameless bitch! I’ll rip your face off!” She lunged at me, but her movements were clumsy. I sidestepped and slapped her hard across the face. “Kira! How dare you hit me! Cain will make you pay for this!” she shrieked. I crossed my arms, watching her tantrum with amusement. “Thanks for the compliment. I’m definitely prettier, and we both know it.” The second the words left my mouth, she dropped to her knees and started slapping her own face. “It’s my fault, Kira! I’m the worthless one for marrying Cain! Just please, don’t ruin the wedding! You can beat me, kill me, whatever you want!” I was staring at her, utterly bewildered, when a vicious kick came flying at my head. “Kira! Did my words mean nothing to you? You dare touch Lily?!” Cain’s kick was filled with rage. If it had connected, it would have taken half my head off. So this is what I was to him. A attack dog he could pet one minute and beat the next? An outlet for his anger? I dodged just in time, but the high heels sent my ankle twisting beneath me. A sharp pain shot up my leg, and I winced, gritting my teeth as I looked up at him. Cain rushed to help Lily up, his cold, hard eyes fixed on me. But when he got a clear look at my face, at the red dress and the makeup, his expression flickered. His eyes lit up for a fraction of a second, but his words were as cold as ever. “Even dressed up like this, Kira, you’re not half the woman Lily is.” Lily sobbed, clutching his arm. “Cain, she kept pushing me, asking questions… I couldn’t keep the secret any longer. I’m so sorry…” He pulled her into his arms, his voice softening to a tender murmur. “It’s nothing, my love. No one’s blaming you.” I had to laugh. A second ago, he was ready to kill his own men to keep the wedding a secret. Now that Lily had spilled the beans, it was “nothing.” She really could do no wrong in his eyes. He doted on her completely. And what did that make me? A fool? “So you’re really marrying her?” I stared at him, my gaze unwavering. A desperate part of me needed to hear how he would explain this. I thought he would at least look guilty, flustered. That he would beg me to let go of the past and accept their love. But Cain just frowned, completely unfazed. “Yes. The wedding is tomorrow. You can come, but you are not to cause a scene. Don’t force my hand, Kira.” In that instant, the last shred of hope I had for him died. It’s not the right time to get married, he’d told me. But that was only because the bride was me. Now that it was Lily, the dangers, the enemies, the blockades—none of it mattered. He was even magnanimously granting me permission to attend their wedding. How could a person be so cruel? I fought back the tears stinging my eyes, my voice a raw, bitter whisper. “Get out.” But Lily pushed her luck. “Cain, darling, I don’t know many people here. I was hoping Kira could be my maid of honor, but I didn’t want to impose…” At the sight of his beloved’s careful, pleading face, Cain’s heart melted. He turned to me, his voice now a command. “Kira, since you already know, it’s just being a bridesmaid. You wouldn’t mind, would you?” “I don’t want to see either of you! Get out!” My anger finally exploded. I grabbed a steel rod from the corner of the room and advanced on them. “Get out!” Slam! I threw the door shut and collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. A single, hopeless tear escaped and trailed down my cheek. As I sat there, lost in my grief, my phone lit up. A message from Silas. I opened it, my mood foul, but the words made my face flush. “The red dress suits you. You’re beautiful.” A second message followed. “Take off the heels. Put some medicine on that ankle.” I was stunned. How did he know my ankle was swollen? Medicine? As I was wondering, a small drone buzzed up to my window, a little box tied to it. I opened it. Inside was another red dress, and a tube of medicated balm. So, he’d known where Cain’s stronghold was all along. He’d just been waiting. I’d definitely picked the right ally. After rubbing the balm on my ankle, I was about to get ready for bed when Cain came back. He swept me up in his arms and gently laid me on the bed. He was holding a different tube of ointment. “Shhh, it’s okay. Let me put this on for you.” It must have been raining outside; he was soaked to the bone. But he carefully dried his hands before he touched me, his fingers gently massaging my ankle. I used to be terrified of pain. When I first started fighting for him, the smallest scrape would have me crying for hours. Whenever I got hurt, no matter how bruised and beaten he was himself, he would stay by my side, letting me bite his arm to get through the pain. Those years were hard, but I always felt safe. But then, one day, he just stopped coming. I faced death countless times after that, collected scars big and small, and he never spared me a second glance. I wasn’t afraid of pain anymore. And now, here he was, fussing over me again. A guilty conscience? “Kira, you’ve lost weight,” he said, his voice full of apology. “I’ve been neglecting you. I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you about the wedding because I was afraid you’d overthink it. Lily saved my life, and she was targeted because of me. I have to protect her. But don’t worry, I won’t touch her. I only love you. As soon as I deal with Silas, I’ll divorce her and marry you properly. Okay?” He kneaded my swollen ankle while my eyes were fixed on the wedding band on his ring finger. I looked up at him, my gaze filled with a desolate sorrow. “Cain,” I asked, “in all these years… did you ever love me?” He froze for a second, then dropped to one knee, pulling me into a desperate, passionate embrace. “Yes. I only love you, Kira. Only you.” Then, he handed me a glass of milk he’d brought. “Here. Drink this. Get some sleep. If you want to come to the wedding tomorrow, I won’t stop you.” But I could taste it. The milk was laced with a sedative. Enough to keep me unconscious for the entire next day. My throat closed up, the betrayal suffocating me. He was still lying. All of this was just to make sure Lily could marry him without a hitch tomorrow. So this was what he meant by “making sure I stay quiet.” I drained the glass. A tear welled and fell as my heart turned to ash. But Cain smiled, a brilliant, relieved smile. I closed my eyes under his gentle gaze. He didn’t know. All those years of fighting for him had left me with chronic insomnia. I’d developed a tolerance to sleeping pills long ago. A short while later, I heard Lily’s breathy moans next to my ear. “Cain, you were gone so long, I thought you were staying here tonight.” I heard the sound of a passionate kiss. “Never. She’s just a human shield. Silas is still out there, so I need to keep her around. He has a soft spot for her. He won’t go for the kill as long as she’s by my side.” “Your hands are wandering,” Lily purred playfully. “Naughty…” “Yes… very naughty…” Cain’s voice was a low, husky growl. The rustle of clothing grew more frantic, their kisses more desperate. A searing pain tore through my chest, as if a blade had been driven straight through my heart. I had always submitted to Cain unconditionally, but he had never been this tender, this wild, with me. It was always, “Kira, can you take the fall for me?” or “Kira, I’m in a firefight with Silas. Get over here.” And I would always say yes, even if it cost me my life. Finally, they left. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. At dawn, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and walked out. The island was deserted. Everyone was at the wedding. At the docks, I handed the requisition form to the man in charge. “I need a speedboat.” He looked surprised. “Kira, it’s dangerous out there right now. What if you get spotted? The boss told us not to let you leave the island alone. Besides, with you gone, there’s no one in charge here. Things could get messy.” Cain had promised that once he took Port Sterling, he would make me Mrs. Thorne. To make that day come sooner, I worked day and night—fighting for turf at night, managing the island’s affairs by day. I ran myself ragged for him. But if he had truly loved me, would he have let me work so hard? Would he have ignored everything I did for him? He didn’t love me. So everything I did was for nothing. “Does the boss know you’re leaving?” the man pressed. He was one of the few who knew the true nature of our relationship, who knew how much Cain valued me. Cain had never shown me any special favor in front of his men—he’d even beaten me half to death once in public to assert his authority—but the dock master still hesitated. My leaving on Cain’s wedding day felt wrong. “He knows,” I said, tapping the paper. “That’s his signature.” He was still reluctant, but at my insistence, he finally gave me the boat. As I sped away, the cold, salty wind whipping at my face, the reality of my escape finally began to sink in. This was it. I was betraying him completely. I was taking all his secrets and delivering them to his mortal enemy. I wondered what his face would look like when he found out. The thought brought a vicious, satisfying smile to my lips. As I crossed a stretch of open water, I saw it: a massive luxury yacht, anchored in the distance. A wedding was taking place on the deck. A helicopter circled overhead, showering the sea with a cascade of rose petals. The music was so loud I could hear it clearly even from this far away—Cain’s voice, pouring his heart out to Lily. “Lily, you once told me that people in our line of work should never have someone they love. So I hid my feelings for you, terrified that you would become my weakness, terrified you’d get hurt. But now, I just want to tell the world: you are my weakness, but you are also my armor! I’ve waited seven years to marry you. This has been my plan all along, and today, my dream has finally come true…” Yes. He loved her. So he hid it from everyone, including me. Every loving word he spoke to her now made his promises to me a bitter joke. I glanced over and saw them on the deck, a man and a woman standing together, a picture of pure, romantic bliss. For a second, it felt like his eyes met mine across the water. He faltered. “Kira?” A sharp pain lanced through my chest. He looked overwhelmed by a sudden, intense feeling of dread, as if he were about to lose the most important thing in his life. Lily took his hand, her voice a sweet, reassuring murmur. “Darling, you must be seeing things. You gave Kira the drugged milk, remember? She’s fast asleep right now.” The confusion on Cain’s face faded. He made a silent promise to himself to make it all up to me when he got back. He would spend the rest of his life making amends. He didn’t know that my speedboat was already carrying me further and further away. “Mr. Thorne, do you take Miss Lily to be your lawfully wedded wife, for richer or for poorer…” The priest’s solemn voice was suddenly cut off. “Boss, we have a problem!” A low-level thug came running onto the deck, shouting in a panic. “Boss, it’s Kira… she’s gone!”

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Ethan Sawyer spent three years playing the penniless artist by my side. When I told him my mother desperately needed life-saving surgery, he doubled down on his act, pretending he’d just been fired and needed me to support him. I couldn’t play along anymore. I walked out. I dumped him and married the successful businessman who had been pursuing me. Then, I attended a client’s wedding. The groom was Ethan Sawyer. I heard his groomsmen taunting him: “Remember when Sawyer insisted on playing the ‘pure love’ game? And she still dumped him.” “What a pity. The ‘getting fired’ thing was actually his final test. If she’d just held on for a little longer, today’s bride would be her.” “If that gold-digger knew she tossed the heir to Sawyer Holdings, she’d be kicking herself, huh? Ha ha.” The funny thing is, I knew all of it. 1 My second encounter with Ethan Sawyer was at my client’s wedding. He was the groom. In an expensive custom suit, hair impeccably styled, he looked aristocratic and arrogant—nothing like the down-and-out man I’d shared a tiny apartment with. I had no intention of speaking to him. Our breakup had been anything but civil. I was the one who ended it. He’d knelt on the floor, weeping and begging me to stay, but I hadn’t looked back. His final words were a threat: “Audrey Miller, walk out that door, and don’t you dare regret it. Even if you crawl back to me, I won’t give you the time of day!” I bolted. Three years in that cramped rental was more than enough. I was over it. Reuniting at his wedding felt painfully awkward. I turned to leave, but then I heard the groomsmen circling Ethan, mocking him: “Remember when Sawyer insisted on playing the ‘pure love’ game? And she still dumped him.” “What a pity. The ‘getting fired’ thing was actually his final test. If she’d just held on for a little longer, today’s bride would be her.” “If that gold-digger knew she tossed the heir to Sawyer Holdings, she’d be kicking herself, huh? Ha ha.” Amidst the playful teasing of his friends, Ethan just gave a small, contemptuous smile. “Too late for regret,” he drawled. I knew they were talking about me. The gold-digger. It was clear they truly believed I left him because he was poor. The truth? I already knew. 2 About a year into dating Ethan, I was working a part-time job at a high-end hotel. I saw him sweeping through the lobby in a tailored suit, reviewing the staff. The manager called him “Mr. Sawyer.” That’s how I discovered the hotel was part of his family’s empire—Sawyer Holdings. They were practically East Coast royalty. My perpetually broke, struggling artist of a boyfriend was actually a wealthy golden boy. To me, it felt less like a dramatic movie plot and more like winning the lottery. I wasn’t the type of heroine who’d act high and mighty. Instead, I felt like I’d hit the jackpot. I was certain Ethan genuinely loved me. He was there to cheer me up when I was down and patiently cared for me when I was sick. Rich or poor, he was the best boyfriend. If he enjoyed playing the role of the impoverished romantic, I would continue to play along. But then my mother got sick and needed a huge sum for surgery, and he was still, merrily, testing me with his poverty game. I was done. The charade had lost its charm. I dumped him and married the rich man who pursued me. Ethan and his buddies could be disappointed all they wanted. I had zero regrets. Suddenly, the bride walked over, took my hand, and pulled me towards Ethan. “Ethan, look! This is Ms. Audrey Miller, the owner of The Horizon Gallery that I was telling you about,” she gushed excitedly. “I told you we look alike, but you didn’t believe me.” He lifted his gaze. After a momentary flicker of recognition, his eyes turned cold. “They do look similar,” he conceded, then added dismissively, “But not as pretty or as young as my wife.” 3 The bride, Lila May, was my client. She’d first visited my gallery two weeks prior, looking for pieces for her new marital home. When we truly saw each other, we both gasped. The resemblance was uncanny—at least seventy percent.

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Chapter 1 We were right on the cusp of college graduation when my boyfriend, Julian Thorne, suddenly dumped me. He handed me the keys to a Malibu beach house, a brand-new Bentley, and a cashier’s check for three million dollars. He called it a “thank you” for my companionship over the last four years. I was stunned. I just wanted to know why. His expression was cold, detached. “Vivian, in a family like mine, love and marriage are two different business transactions. I’m going back to handle a merger—a marriage merger. Do you understand?” My boyfriend was engaged. And the fiancée wasn’t me. When I rushed to the engagement venue, I saw Julian on the stage. He was wearing a bespoke tuxedo, onyx cufflinks glinting under the lights, looking every bit the handsome aristocrat. Standing opposite him was a woman who barely reached his chest. She was heavy-set, and her skin was slick with oil, covered in angry, ready-to-burst acne. My boyfriend was going to marry her? I thought back to last night. It felt like a different lifetime. Yesterday, I came back to the villa from my internship, and Julian had pressed me onto the bed. He leaned down, his voice raspy and desperate. “Babe, forget who we are tonight. Just let me love you.” It was intense. He loved me like it was the end of the world. But when I woke up, he was gone. His number was disconnected. His Instagram, his LinkedIn—all deleted. He had vanished from my world without a trace. Then, his lawyer showed up. The lawyer arrived exactly at noon. He said Julian had specifically instructed him not to come earlier, so as not to disturb my sleep. He handed me a file. It was a deed of gift. Julian had voluntarily transferred the house, the car, and the money to me as a parting gift for our four years together. So, he dumped me out of the blue, treated me like a kept woman, and tried to pay me off? The irony was, I didn’t need his money. When Julian and I first got together, I told him I was loaded. But he just smiled confidently and said, “No matter how rich you are, you’ll never have as much money as I do.” I didn’t bother arguing. I loved him. But why break up? Last night, he was so passionate, whispering that he loved me all night long. I forced myself to calm down. Using my family’s private channels, I found out everything in ten minutes. Then, I crashed the engagement party. I could tell Julian wasn’t happy. Was he being forced? “Kiss her!” someone from the crowd shouted. I watched the woman lunge for Julian’s hand. He instinctively recoiled, stepping back. The woman looked displeased. Her thick lips flapped as she spat, “Did you already forget what you promised me?” Julian’s face went pale, but he forced himself to take a step forward. He was definitely being threatened. I pushed through the crowd and screamed, “Julian! If you’re in trouble, tell me! Don’t do this to yourself!” Every eye in the ballroom turned to me. When Julian saw me, a flash of joy hit his cold eyes, instantly replaced by terrified frost. “Who is this bitch?” the woman on stage growled. She glared at me. “You call my fiancé ‘Julian’ pretty intimately, don’t you?” I was about to reveal my identity when Julian cut me off. He furrowed his brows, looking disgusted. “She’s just a simp. A gold digger I used to know. Kick her out, don’t bother with her.” A simp? A gold digger? I could feel the contempt in the room shifting toward me. Chapter 2 Yeah, nobody respects a gold digger. But I wasn’t one. Julian and I met at a club fair freshman year. I had just finished Muay Thai practice and was starving, so I stole some snacks from my roommate. My roommate roasted me and jokingly told me to call her “Mommy” as punishment. We were just messing around, so I actually did it. Julian stepped in to defend me. He lectured her, saying she shouldn’t bully people just because they were poor, and then lectured me about stealing food. He was always like that—a gentleman, obsessed with fairness. So, I played the part. I pretended to be poor and pitiful, clinging to him until we started dating. The whole school thought he was my “Sugar Daddy.” People called me a gold digger. I was afraid he’d lose face, so I told him my family was actually wealthy. He didn’t seem to care either way. We didn’t have a dramatic love story, just four years of honey-sweet stability. We barely ever fought. That’s why I couldn’t accept this sudden breakup. I walked toward the stage. Before I could speak, the woman blocked my path. She was so short I had to look down to make eye contact. “You have the nerve to come up here?” She jumped up, trying to slap me. I dodged easily, frowning. I looked at Julian. “You broke up with me to marry this?” “Shut your mouth!” Julian rushed forward and slapped me across the face. I dodged the woman, but I didn’t dodge Julian. He had been sick recently; I was afraid if I moved, he’d lose his balance and fall. He was marrying someone else, and I was still worrying about him. I was pathetic. I touched my stinging cheek, looking at him with pure sorrow. “You’re Julian’s college fling?” The woman walked over, sneering. “A money-grubbing slut daring to act tough in front of me? Do you know who I am? I’m Tiffany Gore. The Gore family owns this city!” I ignored Tiffany and kept my eyes on Julian. “Leaving without a word? That’s not fair to me.” “Fair?” Julian scoffed. “I gave you the villa, the Bentley, the cash. What more do you want?” “Stop making a scene, Vivian. We’re done.” He frowned deep. “You know people from families like mine… marriage is business. Thank you for the four years, but my wife can only be Tiffany Gore. Do you understand?” “I just want to know one thing. Do you love me?” I asked. I knew about arranged marriages. My parents had one, but they were lucky—childhood sweethearts who actually fell in love. As for me… I was supposed to have an arranged marriage, too. But my family’s status in the Capital was so high we didn’t actually need to merge with anyone to maintain power. “Love?” Julian laughed darkly. “Grow up, Vivian. I knew since I was a kid I’d be sold off in a marriage merger. I don’t believe in love.” “I dated you because you were pretty, poor, and easy to control.” He sneered. “Okay, you got your answer. Now get out.” So, everything I thought was love was just a delusion? Chapter 3 In Julian’s eyes, was I just a presentable, obedient canary? It was laughable. I nodded. If that was the case, fine. My heart hurt, but I knew when to fold. I came to salvage this. If it couldn’t be salvaged, I would let go. I looked at Julian and smiled bitterly. “Fine. I wish you happiness.” I turned to leave the stage. Julian clenched his fist and looked away, refusing to meet my eyes. But Tiffany blocked me again, grinning maliciously. “Since you’re here, stay and watch. Otherwise, you’re disrespecting me, disrespecting the Gore family, and disrespecting the whole city!” “That bold, huh?” I laughed. I’d heard talk like this before. The country is big, and not everyone knows my face. Occasionally, someone tries to flex on me. Usually, once I handle a few of them, the rest shut up. Tiffany didn’t catch the disdain in my voice. She clapped her hands. A dozen men in black suits emerged from the shadows, surrounding the stage. “Bitch, if I’m not happy today, you don’t walk out of this room,” Tiffany spat. Julian stepped forward, glaring at me. “Just get out of here! I don’t want to see you!” “Did I say you could speak?” Tiffany snapped at him. “Do you think I’m stupid? I see you trying to protect this slut.” Protecting me? I looked deeply at Julian. Beneath the cold exterior, his eyes were full of panic. Maybe what he said earlier was a lie. Julian shook his head. “I just don’t want ties to my past. Plus, having my ex here at our engagement? It makes us look bad. Think about your reputation, Tiffany.” His voice softened. “I’m thinking of you.” Tiffany’s face relaxed slightly, but she sneered, “I don’t care about reputation. In this town, I am the law.” She pointed at me. “Go sit down and watch!” I nodded, shot Julian a knowing half-smile, and walked off the stage. Immediately, four security guards surrounded me, escorting me to a corner table. They were terrified I’d bolt. From the stage, Tiffany yelled, “You watch closely. If I don’t say you can leave, you stay put.” “If you don’t let me leave now,” I said calmly, “when you want me to leave later, I might not go.” “Shut up!” Julian yelled. I smiled and stayed silent. If they wanted to play, we could play. Tiffany continued, “I heard you’re from the Capital? That’s cute. Later on, some real heavy hitters from the Capital are coming—real elite circle guys. I’ll introduce you. Help you see what the real world looks like.” “I’ll thank you in advance, then,” I chuckled. A group of young people walked over to my table. They looked arrogant, loud, and tacky. Definitely Tiffany’s entourage. “Little gold digger, do you have a death wish?” “You think Julian can protect you?” “Let’s be real, even if you didn’t crash this, Tiffany wouldn’t have let you go. She’d never let a woman who slept with her fiancé for four years live.” “I have a phone, want me to call the cops for you?” Chapter 4 They mocked me recklessly. I just looked down at my phone, ignoring them. But one thing was certain now: Julian was definitely protecting me. The ceremony ended quickly. Next came the reception—networking and drinking. Tiffany dragged Julian from table to table, toasting guests. Everyone fawned over her. I had done a quick background check on the Gore family. They were the richest in the city, sure, but they were “new money”—no class, no history. They gained power by leveraging a connection in the Capital to secure big contracts. But they had never broken into the true “Old Money” circle of the city. That meant everyone here was either a Gore family parasite or one of Julian’s family friends. Julian’s family, the Thornes, were Old Money, but they were in decline. This marriage was a transaction. The Gores wanted a ticket into high society—marrying a Thorne gave them that pedigree. The Thornes wanted cash to resurrect their business empire. I’d seen this dynamic a thousand times growing up. Mergers and acquisitions, using people as currency. Suddenly, a girl who looked about sixteen sat next to me. She was sweet, with a little baby fat on her cheeks, looking adorable. Her eyes looked just like Julian’s. “I’m Chloe Thorne. Your ex-man’s little sister.” “Don’t talk. Follow me. Now.” She looked cute, but her voice was icy. She grabbed my hand. I didn’t move. “Did your brother send you?” “What do you think?” Chloe frowned. “Hurry up, or you’re stuck here!” Several men in black suits stepped closer. Chloe sighed, let go of my hand, and slumped back into the chair. She knew it was too late. “You shouldn’t have come,” she whispered. “If it weren’t for you, my brother wouldn’t have been forced to marry that pig, Tiffany Gore!” Because of me? Before I could ask, a commotion erupted at the entrance. Tiffany and Julian rushed to the door, signaling everyone to stand. Seven or eight people walked in. Young men and women, dressed impeccably, carrying an air of effortless power. Especially the leader—a guy in his early twenties who walked like he owned the building. “Sebastian! You finally made it. The party felt dead without you,” Tiffany gushed, reaching out to shake his hand. Sebastian Vance didn’t shake her hand. He didn’t even look at her. He stared intently at Julian. “You’re Julian Thorne?” Julian paused, then nodded. Sebastian’s attitude softened slightly. He smiled. “She hid you too well. Otherwise, we would have met a long time ago.” Tiffany thought the “she” referred to her. She turned to the room. “Everyone, this is Sebastian Vance, the Prince of the Capital! The Vance family is the Gore family’s biggest backer!”

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