Category: English

Three months after I divorced my ex-husband, I received a wedding invitation from him. Overnight, I became the laughingstock of our entire social circle. They called me “used goods” that Liam had grown tired of, a manipulative woman who had taken advantage of him when he was down. But without me back then, there wouldn’t be the powerful CEO Liam Sterling today. I had completely given up on Liam. Just as I agreed to my father’s arrangement for a political marriage, Liam knelt before me. “Maddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to love before. Can you give me another chance?” 1. While other couples were spending Valentine’s Day surrounded by roses and romance, I received a divorce settlement and a final decree. When I signed that prenuptial agreement with Liam Sterling three years ago, I knew this day would come. Now it’s all over, and I should let go. Three years ago, the Sterling family business was in crisis. Everyone avoided them like the plague. Liam’s father, the chairman, had a stroke and was hospitalized. The entire burden fell on Liam alone. He was in his early twenties, barely out of college. He begged everyone he could, but no one extended a hand. He was too young. No one trusted a kid to clean up such a mess. The only one who offered an olive branch was my father, head of the Harrington Group. I begged my dad all night. Finally, he nodded, looking at me gravely. “Don’t regret this, Madison.” How could I regret it? I had loved Liam for seven years. I had never seen him so humbled, so desperate. He was always aloof, the kind of person who stood out in any crowd. But now, he couldn’t even get a foot in the door. Hearing about his desperate situation made my heart ache. I found him at a bus stop in the pouring rain. He looked at me, panicked and ashamed. I held an umbrella over his head and pulled out the agreement. Three years of marriage in exchange for saving his father’s life’s work. Liam agreed. But I knew, if he had a second choice, he would never have chosen me. 2. After the marriage, with the backing of the Harrington family, the Sterling stock stopped plummeting, and the board of directors calmed down. Liam was busy every day, cramming to learn things he’d never touched before. He often worked until dawn. Sometimes he just slept at the office. Occasionally, seeing the light from his study late at night, I couldn’t bear it and would make him tea. But when I brought it in, his frown and look of annoyance stung me. Liam hated me. Although he tried his best to hide it, his true feelings occasionally leaked out, impossible to conceal. “I just… saw you were working late,” I said, feeling small. In front of him, I could never seem to hold my head up. “Thanks. Go to bed. Don’t worry about me.” Then he added, “Don’t come in here unless it’s urgent.” Polite, distant, cold. I fled, terrified he would say something worse. It looked like he was relying on me to keep the company afloat, but in reality, I was the one terrified he would leave. I was duckweed, rootless, drifting with the current. Liam was different. He was a tree, desperately absorbing water to grow. In just three years, Sterling Corp was back to its former glory, even better. And I, the vine that tried to bind him, was about to be torn away. There was no reason for me to stay. For three years, we lived like roommates. Liam never touched me. At first, I comforted myself saying he was too busy. But then one night, he came back from a business dinner, drunk. He hugged me, kissed me, touched me. I pushed him gently, whispering his name: “Liam.” His eyes suddenly cleared. He pushed me away, locked himself in the bathroom, and then went straight to the guest room. After he left, I went into the bathroom to pick up his clothes and felt the lingering chill. Liam hated me so much he took a cold shower to kill his desire. 3. The first time I saw Liam was at the start of high school. After the orientation, we had military training camp. Our class shared an instructor with Liam’s class. Liam was the center of attention from day one. Handsome, wealthy. Photos of him in camo were all over the school forum. Bold girls confessed to him, but Liam always rejected them with a cold, serious face. That was my first impression of him: aloof and unapproachable. Later, during a field exercise, Liam and I were on the same squad. It was a huge game of capture the flag in the woods. As time went on, our teammates were eliminated one by one. I followed Liam, picking up “ammo” and supplies for him. While moving to a new position, I stepped in a hole and twisted my ankle badly. I cried out and fell. Liam looked back, squatted down, and touched my ankle. “Does it hurt here?” I nodded, gasping in pain. But I told him: “Leave me. Go on. I’ll surrender in a minute. Take the ammo.” Liam didn’t speak. He looked toward the camp. He shook his head. “No. It’s too far. Waiting for the medics will take too long.” “I can hop…” Before I could finish, I saw Liam bend down on one knee, his back to me. I froze. Liam waved his hand. “Get on. I’ll carry you.” I climbed onto his back. Liam looked at the smoke grenade in my hand. “Know how to use it?” I nodded. “Pull it.” With a hiss, we were engulfed in red smoke. Eliminated. Liam walked steadily. I asked him: “Did we surrender to make the game fair? Or so people wouldn’t think we were cheating by walking back?” Liam seemed amused by my logic. He chuckled softly. “No. You’re hurt and you’re still thinking about the game?” “Then why?” “I was afraid someone might shoot you by mistake and cause a secondary injury,” he said calmly. My heart skipped a beat. From that moment on, I was drowning in the ocean named Liam Sterling. 4. On Valentine’s Day, the courthouse was full of couples getting married, smiling with love in their eyes. Fighting back tears, I asked Liam why he chose today. He hesitated, looking confused. “What’s wrong with today? I happened to be free.” “Nothing. It’s great. You’re free starting today.” I forced a smile. Liam nodded. “Let’s go.” He really didn’t want to spend another second with me. After we walked out, we stood at the entrance. “Liam, goodbye,” I said. “Maddie, I have something at the company, I can’t drive you back. You…” He hesitated. “I’ll take an Uber,” I said, forcing another smile. Liam nodded and drove off without another word. Watching his car disappear, tears finally rolled down my cheeks. It was always like this. No matter the weather, Liam had left me behind more times than I could count. Before, I would nod sensibly and go home alone. Waiting in that empty house for him to return. Today, it was finally over. Watching his car fade away, my heart felt like it was being torn apart. I called Chloe, my best friend from before. Since marrying Liam, I rarely went out. Chloe picked up and said, “I thought you forgot about me!” Choking back sobs, I said, “Chloe, I’m divorced.” Chloe picked me up and drove straight to a bar. “Tonight, nobody leaves sober! How long has it been since Princess Harrington came out to play?” I downed a shot. “Chloe, it’s really over with Liam.” “Don’t mention him. Don’t,” Chloe waved her hand dismissively. I continued with a bitter smile, as if I couldn’t hear her. “Chloe, three years. We were together for three years, and he never really looked at me. Am I… a failure?” Seeing she couldn’t stop me, Chloe started cursing Liam. “He doesn’t know sh*t! You’re amazing, beautiful. Losing you is his loss. That heartless bastard, ungrateful prick! If it weren’t for you back then…” “Chloe!” I interrupted her. “It was my one-sided wish. It has nothing to do with him.” “Maddie!” “I just want to drink tonight. Drink, vent to you, and tomorrow, that man won’t exist in my world anymore. Madison Harrington will no longer love Liam Sterling!” I raised my glass. “Deal!” Chloe clinked glasses with me. Maybe she got excited, but Chloe stood up and yelled, “Happy Divorce!” The people in the bar were confused but raised their glasses too, shouting, “Happy Divorce!” I stared at the crimson liquid in my glass, brainwashing myself: Forget him, Maddie. Just forget him.

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While my husband’s new electric car was charging, he and his mistress couldn’t resist getting intimate inside. They didn’t expect it, but right at the peak of their passion, the car spontaneously combusted. By the time I arrived, the fire was already raging. My husband, naked, banged frantically on the window, screaming at me: “Save me!” I approached the searing metal. But a second later, I pulled my hand back. “But honey, what should I do? I’m afraid of getting burned.” 1 By the time I rushed to the parking garage, the brand-new EV had been burning for a while. My husband, Richard, and his secretary were naked inside, pounding on the windows. “Lin, save me! Get help!” It was 11 PM at his office building. The open-air parking lot was deserted. I grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed the car, but it was like spitting on a bonfire. “I already called 911. The fire trucks are coming!” I stared blankly at the scene, feeling nothing inside. I never thought these two cheaters would meet such an end. But in a split second, I snapped back into the role of the concerned wife. I rushed toward the flames like a madwoman, braving the heat to try and open the door. But this model had flush handles, and with the power cut from the fire, the doors were locked tight. I couldn’t open them. “Lin, please! Think of something! Save me!” “I promise, if I get out of here alive, I’ll be a good husband. I’ll treat you right.” Richard’s voice cracked with tears, his eyes full of terror and despair. “For the sake of our past, please save me!” Beside him, his mistress, Mia, was choking on smoke and sobbing. “Sis, I was wrong.” “I’ll never seduce Mr. Sterling again, please save me!” I approached the fire again. As my palm neared the metal, the heat stung, and I instinctively recoiled. I looked at Richard through the flames as if he were a stranger. Then, mouthing the words slowly so they could see: “But what should I do? I’m afraid of getting burned.” Sirens wailed in the distance, red lights flashing in the night. “Lin, you’ll regret this!” Richard’s roar echoed from inside the fire, but I didn’t care anymore. They brought this on themselves. Luckily, they weren’t burned alive. Firefighters pulled them out in a bizarre, intertwined position. I stomped out a smoldering pair of lace panties near my foot, smiled faintly, and followed the ambulance to the hospital. In the ER, time was money. “Are you family?” “I’m his wife!” The doctor looked at me with sympathy. “Your husband took performance-enhancing drugs, causing engorgement. He’s currently… stuck inside the other patient and cannot be removed.” I feigned a breakdown, collapsing to the floor and wailing. “Doctor, please! Save my husband!” “I can’t live without him!” Nurses held me up as I swayed. “Ma’am, you need to be strong.” “Both patients suffered severe burns, causing extensive fluid leakage. Their skin has fused together, including… the genitals.” “We need to operate immediately to separate them, or both their lives are in danger!” “But… there’s a cost.” I looked up through teary eyes, suppressing my delight. “As long as you save my husband! I’ll pay any price!” 2 “We need to amputate the male patient’s genitals to separate them safely. However… this will affect marital life.” Richard, still pressing down on Mia, had inhaled too much smoke. His throat was ruined; he could only make incoherent noises. Beneath him, Mia whimpered weakly. “Cut it off! Please, just cut it off! I want to live!” I squeezed Richard’s swollen hand hard. He gritted his teeth in pain. “Hubby, you said you and Mia were true love!” “I believe even without that part, she’ll still love you just the same!” Mia’s eyes were red. “I love you! Richard, I love you no matter what! Let them cut it! I’ll take care of you forever!” Richard tried to struggle. He stared down at Mia, a low growl vibrating in his throat like a demon. Mia trembled, begging, “Richard, I’ll serve you like a slave for the rest of my life!” “I love your money! No… I mean, I love you! Even without that thing, I’m yours!” Richard looked at her, eyes seemingly full of deep emotion. He turned his head to meet my gaze. I saw resolve in his eyes. He nodded forcefully. Afraid he’d change his mind, I quickly signed the consent form. The red light of the OR turned green. After surgery, Richard went into a hyperbaric chamber. Mia, with no family present yet, was sent to a regular ward, hanging on by a thread. I stood by the observation window, looking at Richard wrapped like a mummy. Memories of our years together flooded back. We were college sweethearts. I stayed with him while he built his business from nothing, suffering through hardships, thinking we’d eventually enjoy the fruits of our labor. I remember our first office was a converted basement. In winter, we huddled in down jackets on the floor. In summer, we survived on three fans. He’d have a 102-degree fever and still edit contracts. I’d wipe him down with alcohol to cool him off. Back then, he always said when the company took off, he’d buy me a big house. Who knew that once he got money, he’d fall for a fresh college grad? His reason for divorce was laughable. “Mia came from a small town to the big city. It’s not easy for her. I don’t want her to suffer anymore.” She couldn’t suffer, so I had to be the one to suffer. Like I was born to be a doormat. When his first venture failed, I worked days at an investment bank and spent nights drinking with clients to get him funding. He forgot all of that. The first time he asked for a divorce, I cried uncontrollably. I knelt and begged him to remember the days we ate instant noodles in the basement. He pushed me away. “You look disgusting right now.” The second time, I begged him to just live our lives. He threw his wedding ring in my face. “Let’s just end it. Dragging this out is pointless!” The third time, I agreed. He said he could only give me half the assets because giving more would make Mia jealous. I agreed to that too. At that point, I just wanted to escape this wretched marriage. I wiped away my tears, mocking myself. Richard and I were still in the divorce cooling-off period. The doctor said his burns were extensive, infection risk high. Maybe I wouldn’t need to divorce to get all of Richard’s assets. I should be laughing. Just then, my phone rang. I stared at the caller ID: “Mother-in-Law.” My fingers trembled slightly in the antiseptic air. Right, I almost forgot about you. 3 “Lin! Send me some money.” I pressed answer, forcing a sob into my voice. “Mom… we’re at the City Hospital Burn Unit…” “Richard was burned!” “Don’t you dare curse my son!” my mother-in-law screamed. “You haven’t even divorced him yet, and you’re cursing him?” “It’s all your fault! If you hadn’t harassed him, he wouldn’t turn off his phone so much. Now I can’t reach him either.” “You have to take responsibility!” Back when I was trying to save the marriage, I called and texted Richard day and night. He got tired of it, blocked me, and I used different numbers. Finally, he just started turning his phone off. Waiting for his reply was like a black hole, swallowing me over and over. Hearing my silence, she assumed I was submitting. “I’m hiking with my sisters. Send me money!” “Mom, I don’t have money. Richard’s treatment costs thousands a day!” “I’m warning you, stop cursing my son! Transfer the money now!” “If I’m in a good mood, maybe I’ll put in a good word for you with Richard.” “I don’t want much. Just send two million for now!” Before I could speak, the line went dead. Fine. Since she insisted. I grabbed a nurse changing Richard’s dressing. I knelt down, eyes red. “Please tell the doctor… we have no money left. No imported drugs, just the basics!” “We can’t afford the hyperbaric chamber anymore. Can you put a cot in a regular ward? We’ll squeeze.” The nurse tried to pull me up. “Ma’am, don’t panic. I’ll ask the doctor!” Richard was awake. He couldn’t speak, just making guttural noises. I wiped his dry lips with a wet swab. “Hubby, I’m so sorry!” “Your mom just called. She demanded two million dollars.” “I really couldn’t come up with it. You’ll have to suffer a bit!” He got agitated, growling low in his throat. “If you want to blame someone, blame your mother!” “I called her to tell her you were burned, but she said I was lying. She refuses to come back and see you.” “See? You always wanted to leave me. In the end, I’m the only one by your side.” “Boohoo…” Richard thrashed, tearing his wounds. Yellow fluid seeped through the bandages, the smell nauseating. But he was a cripple now. And I was his only family. His life was in my hands. “Are you sure? Changing the treatment plan now… it’s leaving it up to fate.” The doctor confirmed repeatedly. I nodded firmly. “My mother-in-law needs the money urgent. I’m at a dead end.” “Should I call your mother-in-law to confirm?” So, under the doctor’s gaze, I called her. “Lin! Why haven’t you sent the money?! I’m telling you! If you don’t send it now, I’ll make my son kick you out and marry that little vixen!” I lowered my head awkwardly, tears dripping onto my hand. The doctor took the phone, suppressing his anger. “Is this Richard’s mother? This is the City Hospital Burn Unit. I need to discuss Richard’s post-op treatment.” “Burn unit my ass!” “Are you Lin’s side piece?” “Great! You dog couple waiting for my son to be away to scam me!” “Listen, Lin! Send two million right now! Or I’m telling Richard!” “Just wait until I get back, see how Richard deals with you!” “Mom, at least tell me what you need that much money for?” I wailed. “If I send it, what do I tell Richard when he asks?” “None of your business! Do I need to report to you to use my son’s money? Look at yourself, who do you think you are?” She hung up. “Unbelievable.” The doctor stood up, composing himself. “We’ll do as you asked.” To save money, Richard was moved to a cot in the hallway of a general ward. The hallway reeked of disinfectant. The overhead fluorescent lights stung Richard’s eyes, making them water. I thoughtfully put sunglasses on him. “Hubby, now no one can see you crying.” Just like those nights he cheated, he never wanted to see me cry. Not out of pity, but disgust. After taking care of him personally for a few days, I hired the cheapest caretaker I could find. I had more important things to do. 4 I had investigated Richard’s assets when preparing for the divorce. Now it came in handy. Richard had secretly bought a 1,600 sq ft condo after we married—his love nest with Mia. With our marriage certificate, I got the keys from the property management. It was filled with proof of his love for Mia. Ironically, when we got married, we were so broke we couldn’t afford wedding photos. Back then, he held me on a simple wooden bed in a rental, put a soda tab ring on my finger. “One day, I’ll give you the best of everything!” Now, this house stood as irrefutable proof of my pathetic marriage. “Sell this place!” I turned to the agent. “I need it gone fast. Transfer this month.” “No problem, sis!” The agent took photos and videos professionally. “And the other two properties you saw. Sell them all, expedited. Price is negotiable.” “You got it!” I was converting everything related to Richard into cash. Only money never betrays you. I sold Richard’s equity to his company’s rival. He climbed fast these years, making plenty of enemies. Now that he was down, many wanted to watch him burn. By the time I liquidated our joint assets, half a month had passed. When I went back to see Richard, he was agitated, making noises. “Hubby, I finally scraped the money together.” “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the doctors treat you ‘well’.” Richard looked at me gratefully. Those were just comforting lies, like the promises he made back then. “I prepared a special gift for you.” Amidst his expectation, I opened the box. “How do you like this little toy?” “I went to several design firms to get it custom made for your… measurements.” The moment he saw it, his eyes filled with breakdown. I had stepped precisely on his pain point. He let out a hysterical scream, twisting his bandaged body like a bursting maggot. “Seeing you so excited, I knew you’d like it.” “Out with the old, in with the new!” “Look, rechargeable is better. If you and Mia get in the mood later, just push the button. It’s waterproof too.” “Way better than those pills you used to take.” “Technology is amazing, isn’t it? Such a blessing for mankind!” “Mmm… uhhh…” He couldn’t speak. I leaned in close. “Aww, you’re thanking me even like this?” “We’re husband and wife, no need to be so polite.” Because of the fire, Richard’s eyelids were burned off. He couldn’t close his eyes. He could only stare at my smiling face, tears flowing. Maybe he really didn’t want to see me. He pushed his head back against the bed, groaning, trying to turn away. “Too moved for words?” “You know, hubby?” “I contributed a lot to your and Mia’s happiness!” I sneered. “Mia would love this if she saw it!” “After all, she said no matter what you became, she’d serve you like a slave!” “Oops! Wait!” I covered my mouth theatrically, adopting an innocent, weak tone. “She probably can’t serve you in this life.” Richard’s twisted face showed shock. “You’re in the same hospital, didn’t you know?” “Your precious Mia had a massive infection. No saving her. The doctors said they did their best.” I played with a loose thread on his bandage. “But it’s okay. You have the next life!” Richard braced his feet, eyeballs bulging, staring straight at me, screaming with all his might. Only two garbled syllables came out: “Poison… woman!” “Tofu?” I patted his chest symbolically. “Still thinking about eating tofu in your condition?” “You’re so dedicated!” Veins popped on his neck. His bandaged stump twitched under the restraints, his throat making a sound like a broken bellows. “Look at you! Can’t even speak clearly!” “Tools confiscated, and you’re still thinking about that?” BEEP BEEP BEEP… The monitor screamed. Richard’s blood pressure skyrocketed. I ran out into the hall screaming. “Help! My husband is dying!” Richard went back into the ER. While waiting anxiously, my mother-in-law called again. “Lin! I’m begging you, okay? Send me two million!” Her voice was much softer this time. “I can’t reach Richard. Help me. When I get back, I’ll write you an IOU!” “But Mom, Richard is in the ER being resuscitated! We really don’t have extra money!” “Lin!” “Stop lying to me!” Wailing came from the other end. “I can’t reach Richard.” “I really have no choice but to ask you!” “I went hiking and met a fit young guy. I couldn’t control myself.” “But it was a badger game! They took photos!” “If those photos get out, I’m ruined!” Her crying made my head throb. “Mom, for something like this, you should call the police!” “Richard needs money here. I really can’t help.” Just then, the doctor came out. “Gotta go.” I hung up and rushed over, grabbing the doctor. “How is my husband?”

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The call came from my usually sensible granddaughter, Aria. There was a parent-teacher conference, she said, and her homeroom teacher was insisting that all parents be present. My son and his wife had made the ultimate sacrifice. The only family she had left was me, an old woman with a few war wounds. My heart ached for her. “Don’t you worry, sweetie,” I soothed. “Grandma will go for you. I’ll explain the situation to your teacher.” When we got to the school, Aria pleaded with me in a small voice. “Grandma, please… don’t tell my classmates that I don’t have a mom and dad. Okay?” Looking into her begging eyes, I smiled and agreed, but a bitter sorrow flooded my heart. That girl must have been suffering a great deal at this school. At the conference, Aria’s homeroom teacher, Ms. Thorne, spoke with dripping sarcasm. “Ma’am, with all due respect, you can barely keep your own thoughts straight. What are you doing at a parent-teacher conference? You’re just making a mess of things.” I frowned. Did she look down on me because I was old? Back when I was dodging bullets and fighting Nazis, you weren’t even a twinkle in your father’s eye. 1 “I have stressed this repeatedly,” Ms. Thorne announced, her voice sharp with irritation. “This is their senior year. Every single parent must attend! We have forty students in this class, and thirty-nine sets of parents showed up. Is someone here an orphan?” I knew that barb was meant for me. I stood up to explain. “Ma’am, Aria’s parents had a… special situation. They truly couldn’t be here. From now on, I’ll be handling all of her affairs—” She looked me up and down, her tone glacial. “Immediate family! As in, parents. Do you understand? A grandmother does not count.” Ms. Thorne’s patience was clearly wearing thin. “Let me be blunt. Rules are rules. If you were to drop dead tomorrow, I wouldn’t even approve Aria’s absence for the funeral, because you’re not her legal guardian. Is that clear?” The words “drop dead” stabbed me in the heart. My son and daughter-in-law had given their lives when Aria was only three. Now, I was all she had. I couldn’t die. If I died, Aria would truly be alone. Whispers rippled through the room. “She’s right, the teacher must have a good reason for wanting the parents here.” “If the parents don’t care, what good can a grandparent do?” “What do old people know, anyway? School is completely different from our day.” “Her parents are probably working out of town. It’s a tough situation, I guess.” I clenched my calloused, old hands on my knees and said nothing. Seeing my tight-lipped silence, Ms. Thorne rolled her eyes dramatically. “Fine. Talking to you is a waste of time anyway. It’s not like you have any real authority here.” She waved a dismissive hand, her disgusted gaze finally moving away from me. “Let’s continue. The next item on the agenda…” When the conference finally ended, Ms. Thorne gathered her lesson plans and swept out of the classroom without a backward glance. Hiding the truth wasn’t going to work. I had to explain things to her properly. I stepped into the hallway, but Aria wasn’t there waiting for me. I quickened my pace, my eyes scanning the corridor. As I neared the girls’ restroom, I heard the faint sound of mocking laughter. I drew closer to the slightly ajar door, and the voices inside became clear. “Who do you think you’re fooling, Aria?” a sharp, cruel voice, clearly the ringleader’s, sneered. “That was your grandma today? So where are your parents? Did they drop dead somewhere?” I didn’t hear Aria’s reply, only a soft, hitching breath. “Oh, cat got your tongue? Since school started, you’ve had a different guy dropping you off every week, haven’t you? Young ones, old ones… what’s the deal? Does your family run a museum of men?” A wave of cruel laughter followed. “Yeah, what about that guy in the Jeep the other day? He seemed pretty friendly with you.” “Kids with no parents to watch them are always wild. Tsk, tsk.” I was shaking with fury. My hand was on the door, ready to burst in. Then, the ringleader’s voice rang out again, dripping with malice. “You know what I think? I bet your mom couldn’t stand being lonely and found you a new daddy. Or maybe… maybe those are all the sugar daddies she’s lined up for you?” The words were followed by another round of vile laughter. “Shut up! Don’t you dare talk about my parents!” Aria’s voice was filled with shame and rage. “Ah!” There was the sound of a body hitting something, followed by a girl’s shriek and a pained curse. “Aria!” I slammed the restroom door open. The sight before me made my blood run cold. 2 Aria was cornered between the sinks and the wall by three other girls. A bright red handprint was emblazoned on her cheek. Her hair was a mess, and her eyes were red-rimmed. On the floor lay the silver locket she never took off—the only thing her mother had left her. The pendant was a small silver heart, and inside was a tiny photo of her parents. The ringleader, Jessica, was clutching her chin, wincing in pain. “You dare hit me? You fatherless, motherless little stray!” With a snarl, she lifted her foot and brought her shoe down hard on the locket. The glass cover shattered, smearing dirt across the two young, smiling faces in the photograph. Aria shoved the girl away and gently, carefully, picked up the broken locket from the floor. I rushed forward and pulled her into my arms. Aria looked up, her eyes swimming in tears, her voice broken. “Grandma, they… they broke the locket Mom gave me.” The words seemed to drain the last of her strength. She buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed, her cries like a knife twisting in my heart. They were my son and daughter-in-law, too. I held her tight, patting her back, unable to find any words of comfort. I looked up, my gaze locking onto the ringleader. “You are out of control,” I said, my voice shaking with rage. “Bullying a classmate, destroying her property… Do you have no fear of me reporting you to your teacher?” The girl, Jessica, faltered for a second, then shot back arrogantly, “Are you blind, you old hag? Didn’t you see your granddaughter attack me?” “She shoved me into the wall! I’m dizzy! If I have a concussion, you won’t be able to afford the hospital bills even if you sell your house!” She took a step forward. “I’m going to tell the whole school that Aria is a violent psycho! We’ll see who Ms. Thorne believes—a senile old woman, or us! I’m going to get your granddaughter expelled!” Her two cronies chimed in. “Yeah! Let’s go to the teacher! Get her kicked out!” I held Aria’s hand tightly. It was ice-cold and still trembling. We followed the girls, Jessica groaning and crying theatrically, to the faculty office. Only Ms. Thorne was still there. She looked up, annoyed. When she saw Jessica’s dramatic display, her face darkened instantly. “Ms. Thorne! You have to help me!” Jessica stumbled to the desk. “Aria went crazy and attacked me! She smashed my head against the wall, I’m still seeing stars!” Ms. Thorne’s voice was stern. “Aria! What is the meaning of this? Assaulting another student on school grounds? Have you lost your mind?” “She hit me first—” Aria tried to explain, her voice choked with sobs. “Ms. Thorne,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the fire in my chest. “These students cornered Aria in the restroom. They insulted her deceased parents with vile language and then snatched and destroyed the locket her mother gave her! The mark on Aria’s face is proof!” “Enough!” Ms. Thorne cut me off, her voice sharp. “It doesn’t matter what happened. Striking another student is wrong! It is an act of violence!” Her eyes were filled with contempt. “Aria, I’ve always suspected there was something off about you. It takes two to tango. Why do they pick on you and not someone else? It’s clear to me the problem lies with your character!” Aria stared at her teacher, her face a mask of disbelief. Tears welled in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall. “You can’t just listen to one side of the story!” I felt a rush of blood to my head. “Aria’s parents were heroes! They died in service! These girls were insulting them, and they were talking about the men who pick her up—” “The fact that different men are always dropping her off is something many students have witnessed!” “Those are her parents’ comrades-in-arms! Their army buddies! They care about her, so they take turns giving her rides!” I explained, my voice rising with agitation. “Oh, really?” Ms. Thorne leaned back in her chair, a scornful look on her face. “What kind of ‘comrades’ are so dedicated they take turns chauffeuring her every day? Ma’am, if you’re going to lie, at least make it believable. This just proves your family has no moral compass. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” “You—!” I trembled with fury. “I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses,” Ms. Thorne waved her hand. “The facts are clear. Aria assaulted another student. Jessica has suffered both physical and emotional trauma.” “Here are my terms. First, Aria will give Jessica a sincere apology. Second, as her guardian, you will cover all of Jessica’s medical and nutritional expenses. Third, Aria will write a formal letter of apology and read it aloud to the class tomorrow.” She looked at us, her voice dripping with threat. “If you cannot comply, then you can take Aria home for an indefinite suspension. She can return when she has learned her lesson.” I stared at Ms. Thorne, my voice barely a whisper. “Is this how you conduct yourself as an educator? Believe me, I will report you to the Board of Education.” 3 Ms. Thorne froze for a moment, then a cold smirk spread across her face, as if she couldn’t believe someone had dared to challenge her authority. “Are you threatening me?” she sneered, then chuckled as if a brilliant idea had just occurred to her. “Fine. We’ll forget this whole incident. I won’t pursue it. But if anything like this happens again, don’t come crying to me. Now take your granddaughter and get out of my office.” I thought we had won. I led a still-shaken Aria out of the school. On the way home, I tried to comfort her. “Don’t be afraid, sweetie. Grandma will protect you. They won’t dare bully you again.” Aria leaned against me, a flicker of hope returning to her eyes. The next afternoon, I received a call from the school’s disciplinary office. A robotic voice informed me that Aria had been involved in a violent conflict with multiple students and was being sent home for “parental education.” My heart sank. I rushed to the school. I found Aria huddled in a corner, her uniform stained with ink, her hair dripping wet. The books from her backpack were torn to shreds, scrawled with words like LIAR, THIEF, and PSYCHO. When Aria saw me, her eyes were hollow, devoid of any light. I stormed off to find Ms. Thorne. She was sitting at her desk, calmly grading papers. She didn’t even look up. “Oh, that? Just a little friction between classmates. It’s normal. Flies are only drawn to rotting meat. Have you ever asked your granddaughter why everyone picks on her? Maybe she has a personality problem. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to get along with others.” I stared at her, horrified that these words could come from a teacher’s mouth. I gritted my teeth. “So you’re refusing to do anything about this?” She raised an eyebrow, a triumphant smile playing on her lips, mocking my powerlessness. “That’s right. I’m not getting involved. This time, it was a conflict between students. You can’t possibly blame me for that, can you, ma’am?” I understood then. She was getting back at me for my threat. 4 There had to be someone who would listen to reason. I took Aria to see the principal. He was polite but dismissive. “We will investigate the matter. Ms. Thorne is a very experienced teacher, and we must trust her judgment. Parents also need to cooperate with the school and look for the cause of these problems within their own children.” I refused to give up. I went to the Board of Education. I submitted a thick file of evidence, my voice breaking as I told them our story. A clerk took my information. Then came the long wait. Finally, a phone call. “Following a review, it was determined that while the school’s handling of the student dispute may have had some minor flaws, no serious misconduct on the part of the teacher was found. We recommend that the parent and the school work to improve communication…” Communication? They had slammed every door in my face. Only then did I learn the truth. Ms. Thorne’s class was filled with the children of the wealthy and influential—relatives of the principal, children of district officials. The word had been put out. No one was going to help us. Every trip, every dismissal, was like another handful of salt poured on our wounds. Aria grew more withdrawn, her eyes filled with fear and shame. She began to refuse to leave the house. One gloomy afternoon, Ms. Thorne showed up at our door with several people. “What do you want?” I asked, instinctively trying to close the door. Ms. Thorne blocked it with her hand, her eyes filled with malice. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been dragging your granddaughter all over town causing trouble for me, haven’t you? Claiming I’m unfit to be a teacher? Well, now I suspect Aria is suffering from paranoid delusions. She needs immediate medical intervention.” “You’re lying! Aria isn’t sick! You did this to her!” I screamed, using my body to block the doorway. “Please cooperate with us. This is based on a professional medical opinion,” Ms. Thorne said, then gave a nod to the men behind her. A security guard roughly shoved me aside. I stumbled, desperately trying to stop them. “Don’t you touch my granddaughter! Let her go!”

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During my livestream today, a little girl connected with me to get an antique appraised. Staring at the battered vase in her hands, I knew instantly it was junk, not even worth fifty bucks. But when I clicked on her profile, I saw a wall covered in academic awards and a medical report for a serious heart condition. I kept a straight face. “This vase is from the Qianlong period. I’ll buy it for $15,000.” I thought I was doing a good deed. I never expected a woman claiming to be her mother to jump on the mic: “Streamer, that’s not right. A Qianlong vase is worth at least $150,000! You’re a big-shot influencer; you can’t bully poor people just because we don’t have power or money!” 1 Faced with this mother’s aggressive tone, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the vase was obviously fake. Because her daughter had heart disease, this money could be a lifesaver. I’ve done this before—pretending a client’s item is real to give them financial support. So I smiled. “Ma’am, the market price for this vase is exactly what I offered. I can’t go higher.” Unexpectedly, the woman, whose voice had been gentle a moment ago, suddenly turned harsh. “Impossible! A Qianlong vase is worth at least $150,000!” “If I had known, I wouldn’t have let my daughter connect with you. You’re just bullying her because she’s young!” “I’m telling you, I won’t take a penny less than $150,000. You need to send the remaining $135,000 right now!” “We’re already struggling enough. Why do you have to kick us while we’re down?” A fan checked her profile and immediately commented: [Oh my god, her daughter has such good grades. How did she get heart disease?] [If she can really sell it for $150k, the little girl can definitely get treatment and maybe even go to a good college. Streamer, don’t take this black money, okay?] [You need a conscience in this business. What kind of person bullies the desperate?] I kept my patience. “Ma’am, not all Qianlong pieces are that valuable. Who told you it’s worth a hundred fifty grand? Can I see proof?” The next second, she slapped a certificate of authenticity onto the screen. “Don’t try to trick me! The seller gave me this certificate when I bought it! See for yourself!” On the certificate, the minimum valuation was written in bold: $150,000! 2 My assistant whispered, “That looks like a fake certificate from a knock-off shop.” I sighed. She was right. Antiques can be forged, and so can certificates. She probably got scammed at a flea market. “Ma’am, this certificate… it’s fake.” “I’m not saying the vase is fake, of course, but this certificate greatly overestimates its value!” “The normal price is around a few thousand. But since your daughter needs the money, I’ll add another $7,000. How about $22,000?” The woman suddenly burst into tears. “I knew it! You big influencers with millions of fans, you just suck the blood of poor people like us to get where you are!” “You make so much money, you don’t need this little bit. You don’t scam the rich, why do you have to scam us?” “I’m telling you, I won’t agree. If you don’t give me $150,000, I’ll report you to the platform! I’ll report you to the Better Business Bureau!” The comments started to turn against me. [Honestly, the rich get richer by exploiting the poor. Big influencers are just capitalists. You can’t expect them to do good.] [No, streamer! I’ve followed you for so long. Don’t do something shady!] [Can you be honest? You forgot how sincere you were when you were a small streamer? Now that you have capital, you’re floating away?] The comment section was spiraling out of control. I frowned. “Ma’am, I’ve been appraising treasures for five or six years. I know better than anyone how much things are worth. I haven’t scammed a single person in all these years!” “Your vase is worth $15,000 tops! The extra $7,000 is because I pity your daughter!” “I’m not going to ruin the reputation I’ve built over years just for this. I’ll add another $3,000. I’ll take the vase for $25,000. Deal?” The woman cried harder. “You buy it for $25,000 and turn around to sell it for over $150,000. How can you be so black-hearted?” “What did my family ever do to you? Why do you have to cheat us? My baby is counting on this to save her life! How can you steal life-saving money?” I was getting angry. “I’m not stealing from you! I don’t need to steal from you! I…” “Then send the money!” Amidst the woman’s heart-wrenching sobs, the chat went crazy. [Does your conscience not hurt doing this?] [Unsubscribing and reporting. This kind of person doesn’t deserve to make money.] [Refund all the gifts I sent you!] My DMs instantly hit 99+ with insults. The platform sent a warning notification—people were reporting the stream. The woman cried even louder. “Everyone, judge for yourselves! We can’t let this streamer keep harming people!” “Enough!” I roared. “I’m not doing this deal! Okay?!” 3 The woman stopped crying. I pointed at the camera. “I’ll return the vase to you, and you return the money to me. You say this vase is worth $150,000? Fine. Take it to someone who knows their stuff. Good goods sell themselves, right?” The woman choked back a sob. “Can’t you just send the remaining $130,000?” “No!” I said firmly. “I don’t deserve this vase, okay?” Silence on the other end. Then, she spoke. “Fine. Send it back. But it must be my original one. Don’t try to swap it with a fake.” “Don’t worry! I have unboxing videos for every item I receive! There’s surveillance in the shop! I’ll video the packing process too, okay?” She finally agreed. I immediately cut the connection. After going offline, I carefully packed the vase, recorded a video, and shipped it back to the original address. Not long after, my phone showed it had been signed for. But three days passed, and she hadn’t returned the money. When I called, I found I was blocked. 4 I immediately posted about this online. Since the livestream, fans had been following the story. When they learned I was blocked after returning the vase, suspicion arose. [Could that vase actually be fake?] [I was too emotional then, but thinking about it now, what certificate has crooked text?] [Even if the streamer wanted to flip it for profit, since the vase was returned, the money should be refunded.] The incident continued to ferment. Finally, during another broadcast, she connected with me again. “Streamer, how can you be like this? It’s one thing that I didn’t ask for compensation, but how dare you slander me online?” She pointed the camera at the base of the vase. There was a faint crack. I frowned. “Ma’am, I have video of the packing. Your vase already had that crack.” “Impossible! It was perfectly fine when it was in my house!” Her tone was agitated. I sighed. “Ma’am, that crack has been there for years. I have no reason to lie to you. Like you said, I wouldn’t ruin my reputation for a few thousand dollars.” “What do you mean a few thousand?! You obviously didn’t want my vase to sell for a high price, so you deliberately sabotaged me!” She started crying again. “My daughter needs surgery right now. We need money! Just because I exposed you for trying to flip it for profit! Hit me, scold me, but why damage my vase? You’re killing us!” “I was going to treat that $15,000 as compensation and not pursue it, but you’re smearing my name…” Her cries were incredibly aggrieved. The chat buzzed with discussion. [Is she humiliated and lashing out after being exposed? But devaluing the vase is too malicious!] [Exactly, how is this different from murder?] [Streamer, you’re a big shot. Is $15k worth it to you? That’s a human life!] “Okay, Ma’am, you’re sure I did it, right?” I asked. She was emotional. “Who else could it be! Why would I break my own vase and delay my daughter’s surgery!” I nodded. “Okay, then let’s call the police.”

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My mother’s body was frail, and she went through hell to conceive me. The doctors said I wouldn’t make it, but she insisted on keeping me. Hormone shots, nutrient injections—they were a daily ritual. After each one, I would stir uncomfortably in her womb, a wave of sickness washing over me. Even then, my mother would grit her teeth through her own pain to soothe me. “Be a good baby,” she’d whisper. “You have to grow up healthy and strong.” Her morning sickness was severe. She’d eat, throw up, and force herself to eat again, all so that I would be healthy. To make it easier for her, I learned to stay perfectly still, no matter how much I hurt. Until I heard her ask the doctor: “Doctor, can we induce the birth soon? Her sister is waiting for the umbilical cord blood and bone marrow to save her life.” And just like that, I understood. My mother didn’t love me. She only loved my cord blood and my marrow. Rather than become a living organ bank for my sister, I’d rather take my chances and be reborn. … The moment my mother asked if I could be cut out of her, I unleashed a tempest in her womb. It was a stark contrast to the quiet, compliant way I’d been growing. My mother felt the full, long-forgotten force of a baby’s kick. She lay weakly in bed as my father’s voice, laced with concern, filled the room. “This baby’s been so quiet, never bothering you. Why such a commotion all of a sudden?” My mother’s voice was sharp, her teeth clenched. “This one’s a little demon, here to collect a debt. If it wasn’t for Pearl, I never would have kept it.” “Pearl was so good,” she went on, her tone softening with pride and affection. “I barely felt a thing when I had her.” But I was good, too. Wasn’t I? My mother’s body was a hostile environment, and I was in constant discomfort, my tiny form aching all over. But I endured it. I grew quietly inside her. She quizzed my father about my sister’s condition, asking about every little detail, down to what she ate. My father answered her with equal care. It was as if they had both forgotten about the child still inside her. I listened in silence. I told myself that if she said she loved me, just once, I would stay and be her child, even if my existence was born of calculation. The suffering she endured for me was real, after all. I waited and waited. Finally, she spoke of me. Her voice was bright with excitement. “The doctor said this one’s liver, kidneys, and heart are all developing perfectly. All my suffering wasn’t for nothing. Now, even if Pearl’s kidneys fail someday, she’ll have a replacement.” My world went silent. I felt my breath hitch in my nonexistent lungs. I wanted to cry. At only six months in the womb, I understood a brutal truth. My mother didn’t love me at all. I wanted to tell her that I had waited in line for eighty years for a chance to be reborn, that I had waited so, so long to be her child. I wanted to tell her how much I hurt, how sick I felt every single day, but how I forced myself to absorb every nutrient, to grow strong, just for the chance to be born. But my luck had run out. The nurse came in with another needle. This one went straight into the belly. Every time I saw that sharp point pierce her skin, I would recoil in fear, but I always held still for my mother’s sake. Not this time. I didn’t want to be her child anymore. I aimed a powerful kick right at her belly. She cried out in pain. Seeing the bulge on her stomach, the nurse hesitated, needle in hand. “Do it,” my mother hissed. “I won’t be defeated by this little monster in my own body.” Her voice rose to a shriek. “What are you waiting for? If I can’t deliver this baby, you can kiss your job goodbye!” I thrashed and kicked, but they found their moment and plunged the needle in. A wave of drowsiness washed over me. My limbs went slack. My mother was drenched in sweat, panting through the pain. Over and over, she chanted a name. “Pearl… Pearl…” As if the name itself gave her strength. Then, my father gasped. “Blood! You’re bleeding!” My mother was rushed into the emergency room. I felt so sleepy, so heavy, as if I could drift away from this world at any second. It was for the best. I could get back in line and try again. Mother, a child who isn’t loved should never be born at all. I was still inside her. I overheard the doctors and nurses. My mother had performed a miracle, they said. She had used some kind of superhuman willpower to keep me from miscarrying. The price was that she would be confined to bed until my birth, enduring three hormone injections every day. She didn’t care. All she cared about was when I could be delivered. My sister’s condition had worsened. She needed my cord blood and marrow. To ensure I would be viable when they cut me out at seven months, my mother began consuming a litany of supplements. Bitter herbal tonics, thick, gelatinous soups, anything and everything that was rich in nutrients. I hated the taste of it all. I kicked upwards, a sharp jab right into her stomach. “Ugh—” Everything she had just forced down came right back up. But my mother was relentless. She had someone bring another bowl. The moment she drank, I kicked. She vomited until there was nothing left but bile. I was exhausted, my kicks turning into feeble waves in the amniotic fluid, but she still didn’t give up. She played a recording of my sister singing. Listening to that voice, she choked down bowl after bowl of the bitter medicine. In that moment, a venomous hatred for the sister I’d never met bloomed inside me. Why did they love her so much? What had I done wrong? Why should I have to sacrifice everything for her? I refused to live that life. I gathered what little strength I had left. When I was too weak to kick, I used my fingernails, scratching at the walls of her womb. She clutched her stomach with one hand, her mouth with the other, writhing on the bed. Her cries were so agonizing that a small crowd gathered outside her room. “I know her,” someone whispered. “She’s been here on bed rest since she got pregnant. Must have spent a fortune, all to save this baby.” “And you know why? Her first child has a blood disease. This baby is just for the cord blood and marrow.” “Poor thing. Condemned before it’s even born.” Hearing their words, I fought harder. Back when I was waiting in the afterlife, I’d met other souls like me, conceived to be a cure. One of them told me his story. His life had been a nightmare. Constant blood draws, a strictly controlled diet—he existed solely for his older sibling. The marrow extractions were so frequent that his body gave out. He died at seven and was back in line with the rest of us. But he was happy. “It’s great,” he’d said. “Being dead means no more operating tables. This time, I’m going to be born into a good family. I’m going to eat fried chicken and soda.” A shudder went through me. That life was too terrifying to imagine. I’m sorry, Mother, but I can’t be born into a family like this. “Mommy!” A little girl with no hair appeared at the door, held by my father. She was tiny and frail, a ghost of a child. It was the first time I saw my sister. The sight of her seemed to fill my mother with a new strength. She forced a smile. “Pearl, what are you doing here? Did you eat properly today?” The two of them spoke with an intimacy that left me on the outside, listening quietly, imagining it was me. Imagining my mother stroking my face, holding me with aching tenderness, blaming herself for not giving me a stronger body. My sister touched my mother’s belly. “Mommy, now that you have another baby, will you stop loving me?” My mother shook her head emphatically. “You are my only child. This one in my belly was only created for you. You will always be my precious girl.” My sister looked down at me, her face clouded with worry. “But what if the baby is healthier than me? If I had a healthy body, Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t have to worry so much, right?” Tears welled in my father’s eyes at her maturity. He wrapped them both in his arms, his voice thick with emotion. “Never. Even if we have other children, you will always be the most important one.” They cried on the outside. I cried on the inside. I would not follow their script. I would make sure their plans came to nothing. I grabbed the umbilical cord and bit down. Hard. “Ah!” A cold sweat soaked my mother’s clothes. After my father took my sister out of the room, she screamed at her belly. “You little monster! Do you know how much your sister is suffering waiting for you? You keep fighting me! What if you damage the quality of the cord blood? All my suffering will be for nothing!” What baby wants to be born with a price tag on its head? I hated my sister. I hated my mother. I hated my father. I wrapped the cord around myself and spun. The pain was so intense my mother could no longer scream. I thought, after all that, surely I would be gone. But my mother’s superpower was formidable. She grew weaker, but I remained stubbornly alive inside her. “See? Nothing like Pearl,” I heard her say to a visitor one day. “When I was carrying Pearl, it was so peaceful. I never suffered like this. But this one…” She trailed off, aware of her audience. I knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to curse me. The difference between love and its absence was so painfully clear. I was almost seven months old, and she still hadn’t given me a name. I was just “the baby,” or “this one.” Only on a good day would she call me “my baby.” Panic began to set in. Seven months was fast approaching. My parents had already decided. At seven months, they would cut me out. My life and death would no longer be my own to decide. The doctor had ordered my mother on strict bed rest. She couldn’t even get up to use the bathroom. Any movement, he’d warned, could risk the pregnancy. His tone was severe. My mother was confused. “But you said the fetus was healthy. Why is it suddenly so critical?” she demanded, her voice rising with agitation. “I’ve followed all your instructions! I haven’t missed a single injection! How can you say you can’t save it?” I was my sister’s only hope. The doctor explained that I was never viable to begin with; I was being kept alive by sheer medical intervention. The news sent my mother into another rage. She cursed me for being weak, for being useless. But soon, she had no time for me. My sister had a relapse and was moved to the ICU. Ignoring the doctor’s warnings, my mother got out of bed. My parents stood outside the glass doors of the intensive care unit, watching my sister. My mother’s grief was a palpable thing, a heavy wave that washed over me, but all I felt was annoyance. I was just an innocent baby caught in their tragedy. I didn’t want to live for my sister. The sight of Pearl, so still and lifeless in that bed, finally broke her. She grabbed the doctor, her voice frantic. “Can you deliver the baby now? My daughter can’t wait any longer!” The doctor was horrified. He tried to reason with her. “The baby’s lungs aren’t fully developed. A C-section now… the chances of survival are incredibly low.” A flicker of hesitation crossed my mother’s face, but it was gone in an instant. Her eyes saw only her dying daughter. “I don’t care if the baby lives or dies,” she spat. “Even if it dies, I won’t hold you responsible. I just want my daughter to be safe!” “This,” she said, stabbing a finger at her own belly, “is its only reason for existing!” My father pulled her into his arms, stopping her from hurting herself. How noble. What a great mother’s love. If only it wasn’t at my expense. My resolve hardened. I could not, would not, be born. I had to get back in line, quickly. Maybe I’d get a better chance next time. After much persuasion from the doctor and my father, my mother abandoned the idea of an immediate C-section. But she was a nervous wreck, checking the fetal heart monitor every hour to make sure I was stable. This made my plan much more difficult. Every time I tried to wrap the cord around my neck, the machine would blare an alarm. “Fetal heart rate dropping! Fetal distress! Prep for surgery!” I would quickly let go, terrified. But I knew a secret: if the host body is weak, the parasite cannot survive. So I waited. I stayed awake all day, and at night, when she tried to sleep, I would dance and spin inside her womb. Time and again, I thought I was on the brink of death, but she would have the doctors give her another injection. The needle was thick and menacing, but she wouldn’t even flinch. The drugs pulled me back from the edge of oblivion, over and over again. Sometimes, she would look at her belly with the same loving gaze she gave my sister. But she would always catch herself. “It’s just the hormones,” she’d mutter. “I still love Pearl more. Pearl is my real child.” With the help of modern medicine, I remained stubbornly alive. As my seventh month approached, the smiles on my mother’s face grew more frequent. One day, her sister—my aunt—came to visit. My mother took her hand and placed it on her belly. She had grown frighteningly thin, claiming I had drained all her life force. I disagreed. I was still very small. Feeling the large hand on her belly, I placed my own tiny hand against it from the inside. My aunt gasped in delight. “He just held my hand! Look, do you think he likes me?” My mother just gave her a cold, empty look. My aunt hesitated. “This isn’t right,” she said softly. “Pearl is a wonderful girl, but you shouldn’t have to sacrifice another child to save her.” She loved Pearl, too, but I was her blood as well. The thought of my future—endless marrow extractions, perhaps even organ harvesting—made her feel sick. Was this really the right thing to do? My mother’s eyes turned to ice. “I gave him life. He will do as I say.” “If it weren’t for his sister, he wouldn’t even have the chance to be born. He should be grateful.” My aunt looked at my mother as if she were a stranger. “He was just unlucky,” my mother said quietly. “For Pearl, anything is worth it.” She rubbed her aching back, her hand resting on her belly. Her expression was unreadable, almost sad. I didn’t believe in luck. My fate was my own to decide.

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1 The night before my thesis defense, I discovered that Leslie, my girlfriend of four years, had been financially supporting an underprivileged student. Every dollar she saved from her allowance went straight into that boy’s pocket. I confronted her, phone in hand. She was silent for the entire night, finally offering only a single, defiant sentence: “Yes, I pity him. Is that what you want to hear?” Four years of us, wiped away by a single pang of her pity for him. I couldn’t just let it end like that. I wiped away my tears and stood beside her in the line for our graduation photo, forcing a smile. That’s when her roommate rushed over. “Leslie! Leo heard you and Ben are getting engaged after graduation! He’s in his dorm—he took a bottle of sleeping pills!” Leslie’s graduation certificate slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground. She bolted, a blur of motion. I clutched my own certificate, shouting after her, “You walk out that door now, you’re choosing him!” Her footsteps faltered for a single, agonizing second. Then, without a shred of hesitation, she vanished into the crowd. I stood there, frozen, the tassel of my graduation cap swinging in front of my eyes. The world around me was a cacophony of laughter and celebratory screams, but it all sounded distant and warped. The university president stood on the stage, microphone in hand, looking from me to the empty space where Leslie had been, utterly at a loss for words. Leslie’s parents, their faces ashen, rushed over and grabbed my hands. “Ben, I’m going to drag that wretched girl back here myself! The nerve of her!” her father seethed. I just shook my head. Slowly, I rolled up the certificate in my hand. “Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, just let her go.” The expressions on my own parents’ faces were even worse. My dad was white with fury, and my mom was openly crying. “What is this supposed to be? Her graduation, our engagement party! How could she humiliate our family like this?” my dad hissed. I stepped off the platform and took my mother’s arm. “Mom, Dad, let me take you home.” The scene was pure chaos. Leslie’s roommate, Daisy, scurried over, wringing her hands. “Ben, I’m so sorry. Leo’s condition was critical, I had to…” I looked at her and said nothing. Daisy had been Leslie’s roommate for four years. She knew Leo. In their eyes, Leo was the fragile one who needed protecting. But a truly fragile person doesn’t try to kill themselves on the most important day of someone else’s life. I picked up my degree, turned my back on the celebration, and walked away. My phone vibrated in my pocket, again and again. I didn’t answer. I knew it was Leslie. She would explain, apologize, tell me how dire the situation was, how she had no choice but to go. After four years together, I knew her inside and out. She had a crushing sense of responsibility, especially towards anyone she felt she had wronged. Two years ago, during the review for the university’s financial aid grants, Leslie, as the Student Council President, had publicly questioned the documentation Leo submitted. She thought something didn’t add up. It turned out to be a misunderstanding. Leo had just filled out the forms incorrectly. But the incident turned Leo into a laughingstock in our department and became Leslie’s personal cross to bear. That guilt had haunted her for two years. I used to think she was right to help him. She’d made a mistake; she should make amends. It was only today that I finally understood. Some amends cross a line. Back in my dorm, I stripped off my cap and gown and changed into my own clothes. I knew that if Leo had been rushed to the hospital, it would be the university health center, the closest one. I grabbed my keys and headed over. In the emergency room, just as I’d expected, Leslie was sitting by his bedside. Leo was lying there, an IV drip in his arm. He was pale, his eyes closed, with tear tracks still glistening on his lashes. Leslie was clutching his other hand, her brow furrowed with worry. I walked in. When she saw me, she shot to her feet, her eyes filled with apology. “Ben, you’re here. I’m so sorry, about today…” “How is he?” I cut her off, my gaze fixed on the boy in the bed. “The doctors pumped his stomach in time. He’s not in any danger, just weak and emotionally unstable.” I nodded. “Good.” I turned to leave. Leslie grabbed my wrist. “Ben, don’t be angry. This happened because of me, I couldn’t just ignore it. He’s just a kid, his family’s poor… he’s in such a pitiful state.” I pulled my hand away. “Leslie, I’m not angry. I just think our graduation day should have been more important than a freshman we’ve known for two years.” “That’s not it! Ben, you’ll always be the most important person to me! But he was dying!” “The doctor said he’s not going to die,” I stated, my voice flat. Leslie’s lips parted, but no words came out. Just then, Leo’s eyes fluttered open. The moment he saw me, fresh tears welled up. “Ben… I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. I didn’t mean to… I just… I just couldn’t control myself.” He sobbed, his body trembling. “I saw you two at the ceremony, and I started thinking about my own life… I just lost it. I’m sorry, I ruined your graduation…” Leslie immediately sat back down, murmuring reassurances to him. “It’s okay, it’s all over now. Don’t think about it. You just need to rest.” The look she gave me was laced with blame: See? He’s already like this. Can’t you have a little compassion? I didn’t say another word. I just turned and walked away. Outside the hospital, the summer air was hot and sticky, clinging to my face like a film. It was only then that I realized my hands were shaking. The next morning, Leslie was waiting for me outside my dorm with breakfast. I buzzed her in but told her not to come up. She handed me the bag, a placating smile on her face. “Ben, I’m apologizing on Leo’s behalf. He was just emotional yesterday, he didn’t do it on purpose.” “Does he not have a mouth? Why do you have to apologize for him?” Her smile froze. “He’s… he’s still weak.” “Leslie, let’s forget about him for a second and talk about us,” I said, looking her straight in the eye. “Our graduation was ruined, our engagement party is a joke. What are you going to tell our families and all our friends?” She was silent for a moment. “We’ll wait a while, until this blows over. Then we can just have a small dinner with them.” “A dinner?” I laughed, a short, bitter sound. “You think a dinner is going to fix this?” “Well, what else can we do? It’s already happened!” She was getting frustrated. “Ben, I know you’re hurt, but Leo has nothing, and he almost died. Can’t you just find it in your heart to pity him, to be a little more understanding?” There it was again. Understanding. I took the breakfast from her and set it on a nearby ledge. “Fine. You should go back. He’s all alone at the hospital, he needs someone to look after him.” Leslie visibly relaxed, thinking I had conceded. “I knew you had a soft heart. Don’t worry, as soon as he’s discharged and stable, I’ll make this all up to you.” She turned and left. I watched her walk away, then picked up the breakfast from the ledge and threw it into the nearest trash can. Later, I went to the administration building to complete my checkout procedures. On the way, I passed the university hospital and, on a dark impulse, decided to go in and see Leo. He was propped up in bed, scrolling on his phone and laughing with the patient in the next bed over. He looked perfectly fine. The moment he saw me, his smile vanished, instantly replaced by a look of pathetic misery. “Ben. You came.” I nodded. “Yeah. Came to see how you were doing.” I walked over and picked up his chart from the bedside table, flipping through it. “Looks like you’re recovering well. You’ll probably be discharged tomorrow.” “Yeah,” he mumbled, looking down. “Thanks for… for coming to see me.” “Don’t mention it. Just don’t do anything stupid again. It’s your life.” He bit his lip, his eyes turning red again. “I know, Ben. It’s just… sometimes it’s just too much to handle.” I didn’t respond. I put the chart down and left. That afternoon, I found a friend of mine who was interning at the hospital. “Hey, Sarah. You remember that kid who was brought in for an overdose yesterday? Leo?” Sarah thought for a moment. “Oh, that guy. Yeah, I remember. A gorgeous girl brought him in, practically carrying him. She was pale with panic.” “What was the dosage like?” “Ha, don’t even get me started!” Sarah scoffed. “It was a few vitamin pills mixed with a couple of sleeping pills he probably got from god-knows-where.” “The dose was less than what I take to get to sleep some nights. It looked scary, him coming in crying and all, but everyone in the ER knows the type. It’s all for show. He was never in any danger of dying.” My heart sank, stone by heavy stone. That evening, Leslie came to take me to dinner, to celebrate my acceptance into the graduate program. She seemed to be in a good mood. Leo had been discharged, and she’d gotten him settled. “I booked a table at your favorite steakhouse.” In the car, she kept trying to take my hand, but I pulled away each time. “Ben, I know I’ve put you through a lot. I owe you a graduation ceremony, and I promise, I will give you an even bigger, better one.” I stared out the window at the passing city lights, saying nothing. “Leslie, how much money do you give Leo every month?” I asked suddenly. She flinched. “Not… not much. Just… half of my allowance.” Leslie’s family was well-off. Half her allowance was not a small amount. “Didn’t he apply for financial aid?” “He did, but it’s not enough. And you know how proud he is, he’s too embarrassed to ask his family for more.” “So you’ve been keeping him?” My voice turned to ice. Leslie frowned, her own tone growing sharp. “Ben, what kind of way is that to put it? Keeping him? I’m making amends for a mistake I made!” Her voice rose. “I almost ruined his reputation! The least I can do is make sure he doesn’t have to worry about money for the rest of his life! Is that so wrong?” I didn’t answer. The temperature in the car plummeted. We ate our meal in stony silence. On the way back, Leslie’s phone rang. It was Leo. Her voice instantly softened. “What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?” “The power went out in your dorm? Don’t be scared, and don’t move. I’ll be right there to check on it!” She hung up and forced a smile at me. “Ben, I’ll drop you off first, then I have to go check on Leo. He lives alone, and he’s easily frightened.” I just stared at her. “Leslie, what is he to you?” The smile on her face froze. “He’s… my friend. My underclassman.” “So you’re responsible for the rest of his life, including fixing his circuit breakers?” “Ben!” She was genuinely angry now. “Why are you being so unreasonable? He’s all alone, he just got out of the hospital, and his room is pitch black! I can’t just ignore him!” “He could call the dorm supervisor. Or the campus electrician.” “It’s not the same! He doesn’t trust other people!” I laughed. “Right. He only trusts you.” I reached over and opened the car door. “Don’t bother dropping me off. I’ll walk. You go. Your little brother is waiting.” I got out and slammed the door. Leslie’s car idled behind me for a moment, and then, it drove away. In the direction of Leo’s dorm. After that, we were in a cold war. Leslie didn’t contact me. I didn’t contact her. The apartment we’d rented for grad school was ready and waiting. We were supposed to move in right after graduation. I went there alone. The place was huge and empty. We had picked out every piece of furniture together. I sat on the sofa for a long, long time. A week later, Leslie called. She sounded exhausted. “Ben, we need to talk.” We met at the new apartment. She was thinner, with dark circles under her eyes. “Ben, I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair to you lately,” she began. “Leo’s been really unstable, and I’ve had to spend more time with him.” I said nothing, just waited for her to continue. “I know you’re upset, but Ben, we’ve been together for four years. Don’t you know me by now? All I feel for Leo is guilt and responsibility. Nothing more.” “I know,” I said. She let out a breath of relief. “I knew you’d understand.” She moved to hug me. I took a step back. “Leslie, I came here today to tell you… I don’t want this apartment anymore.” She froze, her arms still outstretched. “What… what do you mean?” “The lease is in your name, you paid the deposit. I don’t want it.” “Why? Ben, this is our home!” she said, her voice rising in panic. “Because one day, the power will go out in Leo’s dorm again, or his sink will get clogged, and you’ll decide that he needs a home more than I do.” The color drained from her face. “Ben! Why do you have to talk like that? Why are you trying to hurt me?” “Am I not telling the truth?” “I’m just helping him! It’s a small thing!” “Running out of our graduation in front of thousands of people was a small thing? Giving him half your allowance every month is a small thing? Leslie, your ‘small things’ are adding up.” She opened her mouth, but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she took a deep breath. “Fine, Ben. If that’s what you think, then I’ll prove you wrong.” She locked her eyes on mine, her voice deliberate. “I’m going to have Leo move in here. He can take the guest room.” A buzzing started in my head. “What did you say?” “I said, I’m moving Leo in!” she repeated, her voice louder, as if trying to convince both me and herself. “I can’t trust him to be alone in the dorms, he’s always having some kind of crisis. If he’s living under our roof, I can keep an eye on him, and then you won’t have to worry! That should solve everything, right?” I stared at her as if she were a complete stranger. “Leslie, you’re insane.” “I’m not insane, I’m being responsible! I can’t let anything else happen to him! It’s my duty!” Each word was a hammer blow. Suddenly, I felt tired. A deep, bone-weary exhaustion. “Fine,” I said. “Have him move in.” Leslie seemed stunned that I’d agreed so easily. I took my key out of my bag and placed it on the coffee table. “Here’s your key back.” “From now on, this is your home. Yours and his.” “I wish you two a happy life together.” I stood up and walked out of the home I had once been so excited about. As the door clicked shut behind me, I thought I heard the sound of something smashing inside. And finally, the tears came. Four years. Over. Just like that.

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My husband and I had planned a ski trip for Christmas. It was supposed to be our getaway. But then, he bailed. He rented out an entire ski resort for the “one who got away”—his first love. She sent me a video from the slopes, her voice soft and feathery in the background: “I had no idea Julian would ditch you for me. I feel terrible. Maybe next time, I’ll tell him to make it up to you.” I replied calmly: “Have a blast. Don’t worry about the cost.” Oh. She probably didn’t know that the resort Julian rented out? I own it. 1 When Julian came home, I was reviewing the resort’s quarterly revenue on my laptop. He walked in and handed me a gift box. “Chloe, I brought you a present.” It was a green box. The standard complimentary souvenir for anyone who spends over $15,000 at the resort. I didn’t even need to open it to know it was the limited-edition Christmas snow globe with the green glitter. I looked up. “Did you have fun with Bella?” Panic flickered in his eyes for a second, followed by a sigh of relief. “So, you know. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to overthink it. Bella is going through a messy divorce. She’s depressed. I just took her there to clear her mind. It meant nothing.” “Okay,” I nodded, my eyes returning to the spreadsheet. He stared at me, brows furrowing. “Are you mad? Over this?” His tone shifted to impatience. “Chloe, drop it. I just got back. I’m exhausted.” He turned and went into the bathroom to shower. His phone, left on the coffee table, lit up. A message from Bella. [Julian, is Chloe mad? Should I explain it to her?] [I’m scared she’ll be even angrier if she sees me.] It was the first time I saw the contact name he had for her: Little Fragile One. Unlike mine. In Julian’s phone, I was permanent and static: Chloe Yu. Full legal name. 2 I picked up his phone and replied to Bella. [No need to explain. An apology will do.] [Cash transfers show the most sincerity.] I sent it as a voice memo. Bella didn’t reply for a long time. She didn’t send any money, either. When Julian came out of the shower, he checked his phone. Then he glanced at me. Just then, Bella finally replied. She sounded cautious and timid. [Chloe? Why are you replying? Are you guys fighting because of me? Please… don’t fight. It was my fault for asking Julian to keep me company…] Julian listened to her message, then clicked on mine. “No need to explain. An apology will do. Cash transfers show the most sincerity.” He listened to it twice. His face darkened completely. “Chloe, is money the only thing you care about?” “What else should I care about? You?” I looked at him, genuinely surprised. I opened the green box he gave me, tracing the cheap green roof of the snow globe. “Should I care about the free gift you got for spending money on another woman?” Julian froze. His anger stalled, replaced by awkwardness. “The flight was tight… I didn’t have time to shop. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” “Okay,” I nodded. “Cash is fine too.” “Chloe!” His voice rose. I looked at him, perplexed. I didn’t understand where his sudden indignation was coming from. We stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Julian gritted his teeth. “You’re unbelievable.” He stormed into the guest bedroom and slammed the door. Psycho. 3 Early the next morning. I was packing a bag for a business trip. Julian opened the guest room door, his face instantly sour. “Chloe, what are you doing? Running away from home first thing in the morning? Are we doing this?” I frowned. “I have a business trip.” Julian’s expression softened slightly, but he stayed silent. He turned and went to brush his teeth. By the time he was ready, I was dressed in my suit. “Let’s go.” He blinked. “Where?” “To your office. I need to pick up the bid documents.” He finally remembered. The original plan was for us to go skiing because I had a bid meeting for the Snow Village development project in Aspen. Halfway there, Julian signaled to turn left. The car’s display screen lit up. Incoming call: Little Fragile One. He glanced at me instinctively. “Inconvenient to answer?” I asked, not looking up from my tablet. “Don’t be passive-aggressive,” he snapped. He answered via Bluetooth. A woman’s voice, bright and cheery, filled the cabin. “Julian, where are you? I’ve done my makeup and I’m waiting!” Julian cleared his throat. “You should call a heavy Uber. It’s not convenient for me right now.” Her voice paused, then turned frantic. “Julian, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” In the car, the atmosphere solidified. I chuckled softly. “Yeah, something happened. His wife is sitting in the passenger seat.” Dead silence on the other end. Then, Bella’s panicked voice. “Chloe? Oh god, I’m sorry to cause trouble, I really didn’t mean anything by it, don’t misunderstand…” “Enough.” Julian interrupted her, frowning. He paused, then his voice softened. “Just call a car. Go to the office first.” He hung up. At the red light, he glanced at me, hesitating before explaining. “Bella lives in a remote area now. It’s hard to get a cab.” I laughed. “Do you want a gold star for being so considerate?” Julian’s face shut down. He didn’t say another word. 4 I was printing the bid documents in Julian’s office. While I was drinking tea, the office door burst open. Bella stood there, eyes red-rimmed. “Julian, I still couldn’t get a car…” She looked at him with wet, puppy-dog eyes, hesitating. “Did Chloe throw a tantrum today? Can you… can you still come pick me up?” She looked down, dejected. “And… can I still work at your company?” I was sitting on the sofa with my back to the door. I set my teacup down on the saucer with a crisp clink. “Good tea,” I said aloud. Bella’s face went pale instantly. She looked at Julian for help. “Chloe.” Julian’s voice was low, warning. “That’s enough.” He called his secretary right in front of me to settle Bella in. Then he locked the door and rubbed his temples. “Stop treating her like an enemy. She’s divorcing, unemployed, and homeless. I’m just looking out for her.” I laughed out loud. “Just looking out for her?” “Familiar enough to barge into your office without knocking? Are your security guards and secretaries dead? Do they just let strangers waltz in?” Julian’s face twitched. “Save it, Julian. It’s disgusting.” I sneered, grabbed my documents, and walked out. Bella was standing by the secretary’s desk. Our eyes met. The corner of her mouth lifted slightly. It was a look only another woman would understand. It said: Look, I’m stealing your man. I stopped walking and raised my voice. “Miss Yao, what are you smiling at? Are you proud of yourself?” Her expression shifted to panic in a split second. Julian pulled the office door open behind me. Bella nervously tugged at the hem of her shirt. “I… I wasn’t smiling…”

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The day of my wedding, I made a last-minute decision: I was choosing a new bride. It was all because my fiancée, Rina Aniston’s, childhood sweetheart had been diagnosed with cancer. His one dying wish was to marry her. Five years later, I returned to the country for Old Man Aniston’s eightieth birthday. During the banquet, I twisted my ankle. Rina immediately knelt to inspect the injury. The sight sent whispers rippling through the crowd, dredging up the old scandal. “What is she doing? Wasn’t she the one who ruined their wedding by flashing a marriage certificate with another man, demanding they postpone for a year?” “That’s right. I remember Matt Cross set their wedding portrait on fire right there, tore off his tuxedo, and left the country. It was an absolute mess.” But now, back in this city, Old Man Aniston grasped my hand. “You’re the only son-in-law I’ve ever wanted,” he said. “Rina has never forgotten you all these years.” He leaned in closer. “She said if you’re willing, she’ll divorce him and marry you right now. She’ll give you a wedding grander than anything you could have imagined back then.” Too bad for them. My kid’s already old enough to talk back to me. 1. “So, Matt, what do you think?” Old Man Aniston sat at the head of the table, dressed in a custom-tailored suit. His expression was benevolent, but it couldn’t hide the calculating glint in his eyes. A sudden hush fell over the room. All eyes turned to our table, hungry for the drama about to unfold. I took a slow sip of wine, my gaze lowered to hide the cold indifference in my eyes. For Rina to do what she did on our wedding day, and now to talk about marrying me again… the audacity was breathtaking. But her grandfather was an elder, and it was his birthday. I had no desire to make a scene. When I looked up, my smile was a mask of polite distance. “I appreciate the thought, Mr. Aniston, but I’m afraid I’m not so fortunate. I could never be worthy of someone like Miss Aniston.” The ballroom erupted in a cacophony of murmurs. “Did Matt Cross just refuse her? I thought he would marry no one but Rina Aniston!” “Twenty years of their lives tied together by an engagement, and he’s just letting her go?” It was true. Rina and I had been engaged since we were children, a twenty-year story of two kids growing up side-by-side. I’d started calling her my “wife” when I was three. I spent more time with her than with my own parents. I’d give her my only piece of candy. I’d save up my allowance to buy her pretty dresses. I was the one who, blushing furiously, bought her first box of tampons when she got her period. The year my love for her burned brightest, I drove across half of Seacrest City at two in the morning, all because she’d whispered that she was craving a cupcake. She used to say I was her husband, and spoiling her was my sacred duty. And I treated it like my mission in life. Back then, I believed love was a lifetime promise. No matter how ruthless I was in the boardroom, with her, I was always the gentle, attentive husband who put her first. Until one week before the wedding, when Liam Vance came back. He was the son of Rina’s beloved mentor. He’d been abroad for years and only rushed home when he heard she was getting married. At first, out of respect for his late father, both Rina and I were nothing but courteous to him. But then, slowly, she started caring more and more about Liam’s affairs. She even started canceling our dates to spend time with him. The day we were supposed to shoot our engagement photos, I waited an hour for her. I called her a dozen times, only to get a curt, one-word text: “Busy.” Minutes later, I saw it on her Instagram: a photo of her and Liam, smiling together. When I opened the comments, my blood ran cold. Her friends were calling him “brother-in-law.” They were joking and laughing as if they were the ones about to be married. I couldn’t take it anymore. I video-called her. But it wasn’t Rina who answered. It was Liam. Through the blurry screen, I saw with dawning horror that they were in a bridal shop. And Rina was wearing a magnificent wedding gown. My voice turned to ice. “What the hell are you two doing?” Rina finally looked up from the dress, startled. There wasn’t a trace of guilt on her face, only a flicker of annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you I was busy?” “Your ‘busy’ is trying on wedding dresses with Liam?” The question came out laced with a pain I couldn’t hide. For all my strength and resolve, the sight of them shattered something inside me. Her expression stiffened for a second, and she avoided my gaze. “You’re so controlling, Matt,” she muttered. “You never even let me explain.” “Liam was bored all alone at home, so I brought him with me to help pick out my dress. I just wanted it to be a surprise for you.” For a moment, I was lost. Her excuse was flimsy, pathetic even, but a seed of doubt took root in my mind. Was I really that overbearing? Others had said it before, but as the heir to the Cross family and CEO of our corporation, I’d never felt the need to apologize for who I was. But this was Rina. Her words cut deep. Maybe she saw the uncertainty on my face, because a flicker of sympathy crossed her features. She softened her tone, trying to soothe me. “Matt, I’m sorry. That was my fault. I shouldn’t have said that.” “I’m just… not feeling well.” My hand clenched into a fist. “Rina, does being with me make you… uncomfortable?” She offered a reassuring smile and apologized again. “I misspoke. Please don’t be angry with me, Matt. Please?” Seeing her gentle, patient demeanor, just like always, my heart began to settle. The old confidence returned to my voice. “If you ever dare to do anything to betray me,” I warned, my tone sharp, “I swear I will not let you off easy.” “Hmph. Trying to do something nice and I get threatened for it. Someone’s a real tyrant, isn’t he?” Her playful jab made my face flush with irritation. I shot her a look that could have cut glass. Before she could say more, the phone suddenly jolted, followed by a loud bang from the other end. A panicked voice stammered, “I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean it! Mr. Cross, please don’t be angry. It was my fault, I insisted on coming with her. Please don’t blame Rina…” 2. The screen went black. I stared at it, momentarily stunned. Was I really that terrifying? I’d scared Liam so badly he’d dropped the phone. The phone must have landed some distance away, because I could faintly hear Rina’s voice, soft and low as she comforted him. It was a tone gentler than any she’d ever used with me. The next time I visited the Aniston family, Rina’s mother greeted me with a look of disapproval. “Liam is young,” she said coolly. “If he does something wrong, you should be more accommodating. Don’t hold it against him.” Rina quickly chimed in. “Matt, Liam is my mentor’s son. Now that she’s gone, he’s all alone in the world. It’s our duty to take care of him.” That strange, unsettling feeling washed over me again. But Rina’s tone was so earnest, and Liam’s position was… delicate. I nodded. A smile lit up her face. She reached out and smoothed a wrinkle on my suit jacket. “I was wrong about you. The great Matt Cross isn’t so unreasonable after all!” Her playful intimacy quieted the unease in my gut. I handed her a thick folder containing stock certificates and property deeds. I didn’t know what other fiancés gave as pre-wedding gifts, but for me, my company, my shares, my assets—they were the most important things I had. And I wanted to share them with the person I loved most. Her eyes gleamed with excitement. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. “Matt Cross, I love you!” Her sudden affection made me blush. “I love you, too,” I mumbled back. But I didn’t know then that her love was a firework—dazzling, brief, and never meant for just one person. While I was drowning in wedding preparations, her affection began to drift, to tilt in another direction. Her social media became a gallery of her and Liam. April 16th, morning: they were feeding pigeons in Central Square. April 17th, evening: they were releasing flower lanterns under the old Phoenix Bridge. … Soon, the rumors started. Whispers that Rina had fallen for Liam, that she was going to call off our engagement. Uneasy, I went to confront her about it. Before I even stepped through the door, I heard Liam’s apologetic voice. “I’m so sorry, Rina. I was just in a bad mood and wanted you to keep me company. I never thought it would start rumors like this.” His voice was choked with guilt and self-reproach. When he saw my grim expression, his eyes reddened with fear. I had no choice but to let it go. We were getting married in a few days. The rumors would die on their own. But the day before the wedding, I received a text from Liam. “Mr. Cross, I bet you don’t know. Rina has already decided to marry me. I’m her lawful husband now.” “A domineering, unreasonable man like you? No woman could ever truly love you.” At the same time, he posted a photo of himself and Rina in a hotel room. The caption read: Looks like the childhood sweetheart couldn’t compete. We found our way back to each other in the end. 3. In the photo, her skin was pale against the rumpled sheets, her hair a mess, her body sinking into the soft bed like a perfectly carved Greek statue, igniting the darkest corners of the imagination. I fought down the rising tide of nausea and dialed her number. She answered quickly, her voice slightly hoarse. “Matt, what’s wrong?” I sent her screenshots of the post and the text messages. Then I waited, the silence on the line stretching into an eternity. The phone’s microphone was sensitive. I heard her breath catch. A long, heavy silence followed. Finally, she spoke. “Matt, those pictures are fake. Don’t you trust me?” Her voice dropped. “…Besides, Liam is so kind. He would never say things like that. Matt, are you sure you’re not mistaken?” My heart plummeted. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Twenty years of history, the ironclad proof in the screenshots, and her first instinct was to defend him. Was it that she didn’t believe me, or was she desperately trying to hide something? The anxiety I’d been feeling crested into a tidal wave. Something was terribly wrong. Before I could process it, a warm body pressed against my back. It was Rina. She’d rushed over. She wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight, and leaned in to kiss me. “Matt, please believe me. I love you so much. I would never let you get hurt.” Her voice was a desperate whisper. “We’re getting married tomorrow. Please, don’t overthink this.” “As for Liam… he’s my mentor’s son, and now that he’s… I just feel obligated to look after him. You can understand that, can’t you?” She buried her face in my neck, showing a rare vulnerability, like a cat seeking a safe harbor. I stroked her back, my mind a warzone of conflicting emotions. Finally, I gave in. “As long as you haven’t betrayed me,” I promised softly, “I will always trust you. And I will always love you.” Her body went rigid. She didn’t reply as she always had. She just stayed silent, hidden against my neck. I never got her answer that day. I went home alone, my heart filled with a gnawing dread. The next morning, I arrived early to pick up my bride. I waited in the limousine at the foot of her building for what felt like an eternity, but Rina never appeared. My calls went straight to voicemail. My messages went unanswered. Every unanswered ring, every unread text, screamed that my worst fears were coming true. But how could they? This was Rina, my childhood best friend, the love of my life for twenty years. Clinging to a final, desperate sliver of hope, I went up to her apartment. The scene that greeted me was a nightmare. Rina, in her wedding dress, standing next to Liam. She couldn’t meet my eyes. “Matt,” she mumbled, her voice cracking, “can we… postpone the wedding? Just for a year?” Before the words had even settled, Liam began to sob dramatically. “Mr. Cross, I don’t have much time left. Marrying Rina is my only dream. Please, just grant me this one wish!” I stared at the grotesque tableau before me, tears streaming silently down my face. “Rina,” I asked, my voice barely a whisper, “are you really going to marry him?” Her head bowed lower, her voice trembling uncontrollably. “Matt, just give me one year. After a year, I swear I’ll give you a wedding even grander than this one.” It was the height of summer, but a chill colder than any winter seized me. “Growing up together, inseparable… does none of that mean anything to you anymore? The promises, the vows of love… was it all just a lie?” My questions weren’t an attack. They were a eulogy, delivered with a dead, hollow finality. Her silence was its own answer. I closed my eyes, ready to turn and walk away. But as I did, Liam grabbed my sleeve. “Mr. Cross, this is all my fault. Please don’t blame Rina.” I shot him a venomous glare. Before I could speak, Rina jumped to his defense. “Matt, don’t you dare touch him.” In a blind rage, I ripped my arm away from Liam. He cried out, and something fluttered from his sleeve, landing on the floor. I instinctively glanced down. The sight of the bright red marriage certificate burned my eyes. On it was a smiling photo of Rina and Liam. The room fell silent for a heartbeat before erupting into a roar of shock and gossip that nearly tore the roof off. “She’s already married to him? She’s dragging the Cross family’s name through the mud!” “I heard Matt gave her a huge portion of his company shares. He’s lost everything—the woman and the money.” My mind went blank. My hand moved faster than my thoughts. The sharp crack of my palm against her cheek echoed in the stunned silence. “You bitch, Rina.” The crowd’s chatter grew louder. All eyes were on Rina, waiting for her reaction. But she remained silent. She simply pulled Liam into her arms, shielding him, and walked away without a single backward glance. As they turned, I saw it clearly: a triumphant smirk on Liam’s face. I had never been so humiliated in my entire life. Fury consumed me, a wildfire burning away all reason. On the spot, I ordered my men to tear down the wedding decorations. I ripped off my tuxedo. And in front of everyone, I declared that from that day forward, the Cross and Aniston families were severing all business ties. For the next five years, I stayed abroad. I never once returned to the city that had broken my heart. My mind snapped back to the present. I realized with a strange sense of detachment that the all-consuming love and hate of the past had faded into a distant, muted ache. “Matt, what happened back then was Rina’s fault,” Old Man Aniston was saying, his voice earnest. “But you were childhood sweethearts, after all. A bond like that doesn’t just disappear. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

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When my new neighbor, a heavily pregnant woman named Tammy, found out I was the Head of Obstetrics at the local hospital, my life turned into a nightmare. “Dr. Lin! Open up! I feel weird down there, you need to check me!” “Are you dead in there? I’m carrying a miracle baby! If anything happens to him, you can’t afford the damages!” At 3 AM, my door was being pounded so hard I thought it would break. This was the sixteenth time this month. At first, I thought she was actually in trouble. I did a thorough checkup. Turns out, she just ate too much takeout. She was healthier than I was. But she took my kindness as a lifetime subscription to a free 24/7 private doctor. Every night, she demanded I check the fetal heartbeat. I had to work during the day and wasn’t sleeping at night. I almost fainted during surgery twice. I started refusing her. But she wouldn’t stop. Every night, like clockwork, the banging started. The other neighbors were furious. Just when I was at my wit’s end, I saw a post in a local rental group: “Looking for an apartment. Severe insomnia, chemically imbalanced, just beat up my last neighbor. Need a new place immediately.” My eyes lit up. I messaged him instantly. 1 He replied fast. We agreed on the rent, and he said he’d move in next month. I exhaled a long breath. Finally, someone who could handle this neighbor. Seeing no movement from my apartment, Tammy escalated. She screamed at the top of her lungs: “Dr. Lin! Are you trying to murder me and my baby?” “They say doctors are healers, but you’re heartless! You don’t deserve your license!” “I command you to come out and check me right now, or I’m calling the police and reporting you for malpractice!” Her screeching woke up half the building. The neighborhood group chat started pinging like crazy. “Again? Seriously? It’s 3 AM!” “301 and 302, whatever beef you have, take it offline. People are trying to sleep.” “Pregnant lady in 302, have some decency. My kid has SATs coming up. Shut up!” Tammy saw the message notification and immediately pivoted her rage to the hallway. “Your kid is stupid anyway! Can’t even stay up late to study? He’s probably going to community college.” “My baby is a one-in-a-million genius! The psychic said he’s destined to be a Senator!” “If anything happens to him, all your worthless lives couldn’t pay for it!” The parent was furious and tagged the building management. “Are you guys going to do anything? We pay HOA fees to get abused?” The property manager, sounding exhausted, called me. “Ms. Lin, can you please talk to Ms. Tammy? Ask her to stop screaming at night. We’ve tried, but she just throws a tantrum.” I wanted to talk, but does Tammy look like she speaks human? “You guys better come up. I can’t communicate with her either.” I rubbed my temples, a headache splitting my skull. Two days ago, I opened the door and told Tammy to go to the hospital for a checkup and stop harassing me. She barged into my apartment, yelling righteously: “Easy for you to say! Do you know how much a copay is?” “A checkup costs as much as my grocery budget! I’m not rich like you!” “My husband works construction out of state, every dollar is blood money!” She marched to my medical cabinet, grabbed my fetal doppler, and shoved it into my hand. She forced me to check the heartbeat. Then she raided my pantry and took a bunch of expensive prenatal supplements. 2 I wanted to snatch them back, but she was wielding that belly like a weapon. If we scuffled and she “fell,” I’d be sued into oblivion. Thinking about that, and hearing the BANG BANG BANG on my door, I wanted to rush out and slap her. I clenched my fists and breathed. Calm down. End of the month. The insomniac moves in. Let’s see how arrogant Tammy is then. Security arrived. I opened the door to find Tammy hands on hips, screaming at the poor guard. “I’m here to see the doctor! None of your business!” “Get lost! If you stress out my genius baby, can you afford it?” The property manager looked at me pleadingly. “Dr. Lin, maybe just… check her one more time? If this keeps up, no one sleeps tonight.” Tammy smirked triumphantly. “Dr. Lin, letting you check my son is an honor. I don’t let just anyone touch my belly.” I took a deep breath and put on my professional face. “I’m sorry, but I am not your private physician. I have no obligation to give you daily checkups.” “There is an Urgent Care two blocks away. If you feel unwell, go there.” Tammy’s eyebrows shot up. She pointed a finger in my face. “You’re the Head of OB/GYN! Why should I pay to go to a hospital?” “You doctors are all black-hearted! Won’t even lift a finger to help, just want to scam people out of money!” “I know! You get a kickback from the Urgent Care for referring patients, don’t you?!” “If you don’t check me right now, I’ll post about you online! I’ll ruin your career!” I had tolerated her for too long. Today, I snapped. “Ms. Tammy, let me be clear: I will never check you again.” “I have a Ring camera. Your slander is recorded. Go ahead and post it online. Let’s see who goes to jail!” I’m usually gentle, so my outburst stunned her. After a pause, she gritted her teeth. “Fine! Don’t check me.” “I have three months left. A checkup every two days… that’s expensive. Give me $10,000 for medical fees, and I won’t bother you.” The manager’s jaw dropped. I gasped, breathless with rage. “It’s not my baby! Why should I pay for it?” Tammy looked me dead in the eye. “You make six figures a month! My husband breaks his back for pennies! What’s $10,000 to you?” “Doctors are supposed to be angels! If you won’t help, pay up!” I have never met anyone so logically bankrupt in my life. The manager tried to intervene. “Ms. Tammy, Ms. Lin is just a neighbor…” “Shut up!” Tammy screeched. “She’s a doctor! It’s her job!” “Why are you defending her? Are you two sleeping together?” The manager’s face went black. “I’m married! Watch your mouth!” 3 Tammy rolled her eyes. “So what? Look at how slutty she dresses. She’s definitely seducing men.” “Probably hooked up with half the married men in the building.” “Thank god my husband is out of state. I wouldn’t feel safe living next to her.” I wear scrubs all day. Off the clock, I wear T-shirts and jeans. How is that slutty? I forced myself to stay calm, but my heart was pounding. “Ms. Tammy, slander is actionable. Say one more word, and I’ll see you in court!” Tammy snorted. “Whether it’s true or not, you know. You never open the door for me. Probably hiding a man inside.” “Look decent, act like a whore!” She kept going. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. Seeing me actually call the police, a flicker of panic crossed her eyes. But then she touched her belly, and the arrogance returned. The cops arrived in twenty minutes. Before I could speak, Tammy started wailing. “Officer! Help me!” “This doctor is bullying a pregnant woman! My stomach hurts so bad, I’m dying, and she refuses to help! It’s attempted murder!” The officers frowned and looked at me. “What’s going on here?” I didn’t argue. I just played the Ring footage. “I am a doctor, but I am not on call 24/7 for my neighbors. She pounds on my door every night and verbally abuses me. I want to press charges.” The cops watched the video, faces hardening. The lead officer turned to Tammy sternly. “Ma’am, your behavior constitutes harassment and disturbing the peace. Please come with us to the station.” Tammy didn’t expect this. She screamed, “Why arrest me?! She’s the one letting me die! Arrest her!” An officer reached for handcuffs. Tammy threw herself on the ground, clutching her belly. “Help! Police brutality! They’re killing my baby!” She was a rolling roadblock of a human being. The pregnancy made her untouchable. The officer looked at me helplessly. “Ms. Lin, she’s pregnant. We can’t force her.” “How about this: we’ll give her a formal warning. If it happens again, we’ll escalate.” I knew their hands were tied. I nodded. After that, Tammy was quiet for a few days. I finally got some sleep. Just when I thought it was over, I came home from work to find my window open. The security screen had been ripped off. I thought I’d been robbed. I rushed in, only to find Tammy sitting on my sofa, eating a durian. 4 She glanced at me, disgusted. “This durian isn’t ripe. Tastes like crap. Buy a better one next time.” I was stunned. “What are you doing in my house?” Tammy replied matter-of-factly: “I ran out of vitamins. You weren’t home, so I had to come in through the window.” I was shaking with rage. “This is breaking and entering!” “And what does your lack of vitamins have to do with me? Why steal mine?” Tammy rolled her eyes. “So stingy. How much does this cost?” “If my son is born with a deficiency because of you, can you afford it?” The vitamins were high-end imports I bought for my sister who was trying to conceive. Hundreds of dollars a box. I didn’t care before, but these were hard to get. I couldn’t let her have them. I walked over to snatch them back. She clutched them to her chest and screamed. “What are you doing?!” “I didn’t charge you for the checkups, and you won’t even give me some vitamins? You are so cheap!” She was screaming like a banshee. I couldn’t get close without risking a lawsuit. I called the police again. The cops looked exhausted seeing Tammy again. But this time, breaking and entering plus theft was enough to drag her to the station for a statement. It didn’t help. She left the station and immediately went online. She wrote a post full of lies. Title: [Elite Hospital Director Lin Refuses to Treat Dying Pregnant Woman, Colludes with Police to Bully Her] The post went viral. The hospital leadership called me, demanding I fix it immediately. I explained everything to the Dean. Then, forcing down my anger, I knocked on Tammy’s door. She took forever to open it. Seeing me, she smirked. “What? Ready to give me a checkup?” “Finally learned your lesson, bitch?” I shoved my phone in her face. “Did you write this?” Tammy grinned. “Yeah. That’s what you get for calling the cops!” I dug my nails into my palms. “Delete it. Now.” She scoffed. “Make me. It’s all true. Sue me!” “Even if you sue me, they won’t arrest me. Let’s see who loses more!” With trash like this, logic doesn’t work. I gave her a cold look and went home. I waited three more days. Finally, the day the new tenant was moving in arrived. I called movers and quietly packed up and left. I hired a lawyer to handle the online defamation and focused on work. A week later, my upstairs neighbor added me on WeChat frantically. “Dr. Lin! Huge news! The pregnant lady in 302 hung a banner at the gate accusing you of murder!”

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I was resting in the lounge when a girl burst in. She apologized, her face flushed red. But I could hear her thoughts: [Oh no, I think I’m in the wrong place.] [But this is all my sister’s fault for trying to bully me. I was in such a hurry.] [I heard no one is allowed in Mr. Landon’s private lounge.] [Oh god, what do I do? I’m so scared.] What she didn’t know was that I’d had a dream. In that dream, I followed her inner monologue, pitied her, took care of her, and ended up on a path to ruin. My company went bankrupt, my family died tragically, and in the end, she kicked me to the curb while debt collectors sold my organs. It was only after I died that I learned the truth: she could choose who heard her thoughts. It was with this trick that she, a fake heiress, became the head of the Warren family. Now, looking at the blushing, doe-eyed girl before me, I smiled. “Who are you? How did you get in here?” 1 The girl panicked. Tears welled in her eyes as her face turned crimson. She stammered, but her inner voice was working overtime. [Oh no, I really didn’t know this was Mr. Landon’s private lounge!] [If my sister hadn’t set me up, I wouldn’t have gotten lost.] [What am I going to do? If I get my family in trouble, I’d rather just die.] [Oh, Buttons, Patches, I’m so scared.] She was certainly interesting. If I hadn’t had that dream, I probably would have fallen for it, just like before—thinking I’d discovered some fascinating secret and becoming intrigued by her. And then, I would have walked step by step down that same path to destruction. After waking from the dream, I had her investigated. Her name is Chloe Warren. On the surface, she’s the youngest daughter of the Warren family, but in reality, she’s an adopted fake. She was taken in after the Warrens’ real daughter went missing. At first, she was just meant to comfort the elderly Mrs. Warren, but somehow, she won the hearts of the entire family and was showered with affection. In contrast, the real heiress, whom the Warrens found a few years ago, wasn’t so lucky. Within a few short years, she had gained a reputation throughout their social circle as being crass, tacky, and an ugly duckling. Even the Warrens treated her with disdain. I’d heard the Warrens never gave up searching for their biological daughter, only to treat her like this after finding her. I had my suspicions, but no way to prove them. I came here today, to my private art studio, to see if Chloe would show up. And just like in my dream, she did. Only this time, I made a different choice. I was curious to see how her story would end now. 2 I watched her with a smile. “Take her to the dean’s office. Ask him how he’s managing his students that anyone can just barge in here. Weren’t all new students supposed to be informed about this room?” Chloe’s expression froze for a second. [How could this happen?] [This isn’t how it’s supposed to go!] She quickly tried to defend herself. “Mr. Landon, I didn’t mean to come in, I just got lost…” My friend, Ryan, spoke up. “Come on, Liam. It’s not a big deal. Just let her go. Otherwise, those scholarship kids will start complaining about you getting special treatment again.” Special treatment? My family donated three of the main buildings on this campus. All I asked for was one room to be my private studio. What was wrong with a little special treatment? I glanced at him. Ryan’s face was sincere, looking as if he had my best interests at heart. But in my dream, he was the one who conspired with Chloe to bring about my downfall. I ignored Ryan and simply motioned for my security to take Chloe to the dean. Chloe’s eyelashes trembled. She stumbled back a few steps, then her body went limp, and she fainted on the floor. And just like that, her inner monologue stopped. I figured if it hadn’t, it would have been filled with curses directed at me. Ryan’s smile stiffened. It was probably the first time I had ever so blatantly ignored him. Seeing Chloe on the floor, he rushed to her side and gathered her into his arms. “Liam, she fainted. I’ll take her to the infirmary.” Without waiting for my reply, he carried her out. Let him. But I wasn’t going to let Chloe off the hook. “Go tell the dean that someone broke into my studio today,” I said to my other friend, Jake. Jake put down his paintbrush and nodded, leaving the room. The Landon family holds a 40% stake in this school. For student safety, there are cameras everywhere, running 24/7. I was confident that within the hour, the school would identify Chloe, and the entire campus would know about her attempt to seduce me. Once they were both gone, I packed up my things, ready to leave. 3 I was intrigued by Chloe’s claim that her sister had set her up. In my dream, not only did I forgive Chloe for trespassing, but I also investigated the matter for her. Sure enough, there were a few thuggish-looking students waiting for Chloe in one of the academic buildings. But the dream was limited; I never found out the full truth of that situation. All I remembered was that everyone believed the real heiress, an aspiring artist named Vera, had hired them to bully Chloe. Because of that, Vera was kicked out of the Warren family, and their fortune fell into Chloe’s hands. Now, I was going to see for myself what those thugs were really up to. Jake returned after speaking with the dean. As we were walking, Ryan caught up to us. “Liam, where are you guys going?” Jake immediately rounded on him. “What was that back there? Are you into that girl or something? Seriously, man, choosing some random girl over your friends?” Ryan had always been the most dedicated of our trio. I’d always preferred him to the more carefree Jake. But I had to admit, Jake was saying what I was thinking. Ryan’s face flushed. “It’s not like that.” My identity meant I had few true friends, so I had always cherished them and never wanted to put them in a difficult position. But now? Heh. “Maybe women are just more important to him,” I said coolly. Ryan looked up at me, startled. I just smiled and strode away. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, a bucket of dirty water came flying toward me. I reacted instantly, pulling Ryan in front of me as a shield. “You little bitch! How dare you mess with the Warren family’s eldest daughter! Don’t you know your place? You— Mr. Landon!” The girl let out a sharp cry. The group of students behind her stared at me in terror. A foul stench rose from Ryan. I quickly stepped back, putting a good ten feet between us. “What’s the matter?” I said with a grin. “Tired of living?” The girl trembled. “Mr. Landon, I’m so sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose.” “I was trying to throw it on Chloe.” I sneered. “So this is what the school teaches you? Bullying?” “Mr. Landon, it’s not like that! Chloe told us to throw it on her! We’re good students, we’d never bully anyone.” She gave me a fawning smile. “We really didn’t know it was you. We heard footsteps and thought it was Chloe. She’s the one who told us to do this.” “She told us to frame Vera, to say that Vera was the one who told us to bully her.” “Oh? And did I tell you to do that?” She spun around in shock, stammering, “Vera? Y-you… how did you get here?” Behind her, a crowd had gathered, and among them was the very Vera she had just mentioned. Everyone was looking at the girl with the bucket in disgust. “Was it me who told you to bully Chloe?” Vera asked, her expression serious. This Vera was nothing like the crass, tacky girl from the rumors. In fact, she was the complete opposite. To me, Vera was not only strikingly beautiful, in a way that was a world away from Chloe’s wilting-flower act, but more importantly, she carried herself with an elegance that surpassed even Chloe, who had been raised in the Warren household for fifteen years. Interesting. The girl was shaking, her eyes wide with panic. Hearing my question, she had no choice but to confess. “It was all my fault,” she whimpered. “My father works for the Warren Corporation. Chloe contacted me and told me to throw dirty water on her, and then to say Vera put me up to it.” “She said if I didn’t agree, she’d tell Mr. Warren I was bullying her at school and get my dad fired.” “I know the Warrens dote on Chloe the most. I had no choice! My dad can’t lose his job.” The crowd erupted in murmurs. Those who knew Vera looked at her with sympathy. I turned my curious gaze to Vera. “Miss Warren, it seems someone is trying to frame you.” Vera looked thoughtful. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Landon.” “What do you plan to do?” Vera glanced at the trembling students. “Forget it,” she said. “They were forced into it.” The three of them sighed in relief. “Thank you, Miss Warren, thank you. We’re so sorry.” Fine. If she wasn’t going to press it, I wouldn’t interfere. A shame about Ryan, though. His face was a mask of utter disbelief. 4 Just then, an announcement echoed across the campus PA system. “Due to a violation of school regulations, student Chloe Warren has been given a major demerit.” For a normal student, that punishment was severe. But Chloe wasn’t normal. She had done it on purpose. The dean was an old fox; he saw right through her little act. Chloe had cried in his office, claiming her innocence, but it was useless. She wasn’t a new student. She had been here for three years, and at every freshman orientation, the dean made a point of sternly warning everyone that my studio was strictly off-limits. The next day, I heard that when Vera went home, her mother had yelled at her and even refused to let her eat dinner. I couldn’t understand it. I was shocked. Jake told me, “I heard Mrs. Warren said it was Vera’s fault for not looking after her sister, which led to Chloe getting a demerit. She also accused Vera of hiring people to ruin her sister’s reputation. That’s why she punished her.” “…” I asked, incredulous, “Is Vera actually her biological daughter?” Or was Chloe really that good at manipulating people? Jake looked pensive. “Something’s not right.” Ryan remained silent, trying to make himself as small as possible. I’d been friends with him for years, and I’d never seen him so subdued. I went home for the weekend. My stepmother was waiting for me. The moment she saw me, she rushed over, her eyes scanning me anxiously. She only relaxed when she saw I was unharmed. “Liam, are you alright?” I was fine. But I was happy to see her. In my dream, even after my family went bankrupt and my father jumped from a building, this woman, who had always seemed so cold, worked desperately to earn money to keep me in this school. In the end, she died in a car accident, and I was sold off. Our rival, the Sterling family, had swallowed our company whole. The first thing they did after the acquisition was marry their heir to Chloe, and they became the internet’s favorite power couple. At that time, Ryan was Chloe’s most devoted and tragic suitor. It was only then that I learned the truth. Ryan had grown up next door to the Warren villa. They were childhood sweethearts. Later, Ryan’s family moved up in the world and relocated. But their childhood bond was apparently unbreakable. And I, in my naivety, had believed our friendship could never be broken by a woman. I had never once suspected him. I was such a fool. For the first time, I smiled at my stepmother. “I’m fine.” Her eyes widened slightly. Ever since I was a child, I had blamed her for breaking up my parents’ marriage. Even when my father told me he and my mother had fallen out of love long ago, I refused to believe him. So I had always antagonized my stepmother. No matter how kind she was to me, I resented her. “What’s the deal with that Miss Warren, barging into your studio like that?” she fumed. “And that dean is useless. I’ll have him replaced.” “It’s nothing,” I reassured her. “She can’t hurt me. I’m a grown man, am I supposed to be afraid of a little girl?” “Mom,” I added, “I’d like some salt and pepper lobster for dinner.” My stepmother froze, patting her ears as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. I felt awkward myself, so I quickly made my escape. 5 My old man was working in his study. When he saw me peeking in, he grumbled, “Get in here.” “You got it!” I hurried inside. My father and stepmother never planned on having more children. I knew this was something my dad had settled with her before they married. Though he had divorced my mother, he truly loved me. The thought of him in my past life, driven to jump from a rooftop because of my failures, made my eyes well up. My dad panicked. “What are you crying for? Are you still upset about that little incident yesterday?” I blinked back the tears and rolled my eyes. “Crying? Who’s crying? You’re nearsighted, can you even see clearly from that far away?” My dad scratched his head. “I must have seen wrong.” “Dad,” I said, “why would the Warrens punish Vera for something Chloe did?” He went back to his documents. “Why are you so concerned with their family’s business?” “But Vera got in trouble because of me. And besides, aren’t you planning on partnering with the Warrens? Look at them, they can’t even tell right from wrong. Are they really good business partners?” My dad nodded. “That’s a good point. If some scandal breaks out, our collaboration would definitely be affected. I’ll reconsider.” That night, the Warrens received news that our family was delaying the partnership. I heard that when Mr. Warren found out it was because of yesterday’s events, he gave his wife and Chloe a severe scolding. I told Jake about it. He burst out laughing. “Your dad is awesome! The Warrens are something else. Everyone knows what Chloe is up to. If her tricks actually worked, you’d have to be like an ancient emperor with a harem of three thousand.” He winked at me. I shot him a look. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Jake stifled a laugh. In my dream, after my family went bankrupt, Jake was the one who helped me. In the end, he was framed and sent to prison. How could Ryan have done that? I sneered. “Tonight, I’m going to teach Chloe a lesson for trying to set me up.” Jake immediately dropped his hand. “Liam, we can’t do anything illegal.” I nodded and whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry. There’s a good show tonight.” Jake’s curiosity was piqued. “What show?” “You’ll see tonight.” Jake pouted. “Seriously? Keeping secrets from me now?” In the mirror’s reflection, I saw Ryan’s face freeze. 6 He quickly composed himself, packed his things, and made an excuse to leave. Not long after, I received a message: Ryan was meeting with someone. He had just wasted the last chance I was going to give him. When I arrived, Ryan was being cornered by my men. He looked defeated. “Liam,” he said, “I swear I just said a few things, nothing out of line. We’ve known each other for seven years! You know me better than anyone!” Seven years. A long time. But the facts were right in front of me. I looked him straight in the eye. “Why are you so flustered? Have I said anything?” “Are you so desperate because you’re afraid I won’t believe you? Or are you afraid I’ll hurt your precious sweetheart?” Ryan was speechless. He probably realized I knew more than he thought. He stopped trying to make excuses. “Liam…” Jake was so angry he punched him. “Are you crazy? Betraying Liam for a woman? Do you have any idea how much Liam helped your family’s business get to where it is today? Is this how you repay him?” He then turned to me, his expression pained. “Liam, give him another chance! He’s just an idiot. He’s never been with a woman before. He got played and thought it was true love.” This is what a real friend would do. In my dream, the story ended after the Sterling heir, Kade, married Chloe. Ryan thought Chloe truly loved him, but in the end, she didn’t choose him either. He betrayed me and Jake for a love that was never his. But I was willing to do Jake a favor. “Fine. For Jake’s sake. Since you like Chloe so much you’d betray me for her, I’ll just wait and see how far you two get.” Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. “Liam, I’ll never forget how good you’ve been to me all these years. But I really do love Chloe.” Forget it. You couldn’t remember seven years of friendship. You think you’ll remember a woman? Don’t make me laugh. It would be a miracle if he ever managed to marry Chloe. I turned to leave. He raised his voice behind me, pleading. “Liam, whether you believe me or not, I never wanted to hurt you. I know Chloe likes you, and I thought if you two got together, I could at least see her every day. That was my only selfish motive, nothing more.” Wow. He had a bit of a cuckold fantasy going on there. Too bad I didn’t like Chloe. What good would setting us up do? Oh, right. In my past life, I actually did fall for her. God, I was so stupid. That night, I didn’t sleep well. I had another dream. In the dream, Kade Sterling and Chloe were in a car. Kade was complaining coldly that all Chloe did was cry and was completely useless. Chloe retorted angrily, “She obviously looks down on me! No matter how much I try to please her, it’s never enough.” Suddenly, another car sped toward them and crashed into their vehicle. Chloe, bleeding, looked at the driver of the other car. It was Ryan. He was manic, tears streaming down his face. “You said you would never hurt Liam! Why did you do it?” I woke from the dream as the sun was rising. I thought about it. Maybe what Ryan said was true. But once you start down a dark path, there’s no stopping. It begins with one small misstep, and before you know it, you’re being dragged into the abyss. And betrayal is betrayal. 7 I bought the penthouse apartment in the building where Chloe lived, right above her unit. I moved in directly above her bedroom. Chloe’s thoughts came through loud and clear. [Damn it! Liam can obviously hear my thoughts, why isn’t he falling for it?] [Was my acting not convincing enough?] [Ugh, Mom fell for it, why can’t he?] [That bastard. One day, I’ll make sure he dies by my hand.] “…” She sure had a big imagination for someone so plain. [Tomorrow is the party where Dad will officially introduce my sister to everyone.] [I’ve already got Mrs. Quinn’s bracelet. All I have to do is slip it into Vera’s bag.] She was always plotting something. The party to formally introduce Vera was an event our family couldn’t miss. Originally, we weren’t planning on going, but now I had to. The Warrens didn’t invite many people, just a dozen or so families, all business partners. I arrived early, afraid I’d miss the good stuff if I was late. As soon as Vera arrived, Chloe went over to her with a beaming smile. I quickly took out my phone and followed them. Chloe was so focused on Vera she didn’t notice me. Vera looked disgusted. “What do you want?” “Sister, let me introduce you to some friends,” Chloe said, linking her arm through Vera’s. Vera tried to pull away, but Chloe held on tight. Not wanting to make a scene, Vera had no choice but to go with her. Chloe led her around the venue, introducing her to a string of second-generation heirs—all minor players and people with less-than-stellar reputations. “Oh dear, where did my bracelet go?” Mrs. Quinn suddenly exclaimed. The soft music in the venue meant her cry was heard by everyone. Chloe immediately let go of Vera and rushed to Mrs. Quinn’s side. “Auntie Quinn, what happened?”

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