Category: English

My arranged marriage husband suddenly lost his memory. Every ounce of his past obsession and ruthless pursuit of me vanished from his mind. Now, he looks at me like I am a total stranger. Furious, I slapped divorce papers onto his desk. Then, I packed my bags and dragged my best friend on a singles cruise to let loose. But on the night of the party, a tall figure stepped out of the shadows, backing me into a corner. In a tone that left zero room for argument, he whispered. Isla, there is no divorce in this marriage. Only widowhood. 1 When I rushed into the hospital corridor, Victor’s assistant was already waiting by the door. I practically jumped out of the elevator, my voice laced with a frantic edge I didn’t even recognize. “How is he? Is it serious?” Simon offered a brief glance, his tone as steady and practiced as ever. “Please do not worry, Mrs. Sinclair. Mr. Sinclair is fine physically, but…” “But what?” “He forgot a few things.” Pushing open the heavy door, I saw Victor sitting up in the hospital bed. He turned his head at the sound of my entrance. A square of white gauze covered his temple, and a few shallow scrapes marred his sharp jawline. He lifted his heavy eyelids. His gaze washed over me, perfectly calm and terrifyingly cold. I froze in my tracks. Victor Sinclair had never looked at me like that. Whenever his eyes found mine, he looked like a starving wolf locking onto its prey, burning with an intense, suffocating possessiveness. This was the first time I had ever seen such absolute indifference in his expression. That was the exact moment I realized I was part of the “few things” he had forgotten. The neurologist explained that Victor’s amnesia was a result of the trauma to his head during the car crash. It was fragmented memory loss. It would not affect his daily routine or his ability to run his corporate empire. However, the recovery timeline was entirely unpredictable. It could take days, months, or years. He might never remember. And in a twist of cruel irony, every single memory of me had been completely wiped clean. When I stepped back into the private suite, Victor was alone, casually leaning against the pillows while flipping through a stack of legal documents. I took a hesitant step closer. “The doctor said they need to keep you for a few days of observation. If you need anything from home, I can bring it by.” Victor studied me in silence for a long moment before asking a question. “Are we happily married?” I looked down, pouring a glass of water from the pitcher. “It is terrible.” The room plunged into a deafening silence. “Why is it terrible?” His face remained expressionless, asking the question with the genuine curiosity of a man who truly did not know the answer. A sudden, inexplicable spike of irritation flared in my chest. I set the water glass down onto the bedside table with a sharp thud. “A forced match is never sweet.” Victor held my gaze, one dark eyebrow slowly arching upward. “How fortunate. I despise sweet things.” 2 I almost forgot. Delivering the most shameless remarks with an utterly straight face had always been Victor’s greatest talent. Back then, the Sinclair Enterprise’s sole condition for bailing out my family’s failing gallery was my hand in marriage. Even knowing I was deeply in love with my boyfriend, he refused to back down an inch. “Leave him. I am a much better fit for you.” Victor and I were virtually strangers. As the youngest heir and ruthless CEO of his family’s empire, he was notoriously unpredictable and fiercely guarded. I had only seen him once from a distance at a charity gala. We had never even shared a conversation. “With your wealth and status, you could have anyone you want. Why force a woman who does not love you?” He had leaned back in his leather chair, staring at me until a slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. “That sounds like a personal problem, Miss Isla. Am I truly that impossible to love?” He played the perfect gentleman that day. When I rejected him, he did not lose his temper. He even put on a flawless mask of understanding, claiming he respected my choice. It wasn’t until our family’s debt spiraled out of control, and not a single bank in Boston dared to offer us a loan, that I understood the reality. Victor held the city in his palm. The moment he extended an olive branch to my family, he silently banned anyone else from stepping in. He made it look like I had a choice, but he systematically burned down every other bridge until his path was the only one left. I had no choice but to surrender. The day I broke up with my boyfriend, the rain was pouring in sheets. I sat in the passenger seat of Victor’s Maybach, sobbing until my chest ached. Victor lowered his dark eyes, patiently using his expensive silk handkerchief to wipe the muddy water off my bare calves. “There is actually another way you can be with him.” “After we get married, you can slip a slow acting poison into my morning coffee. Once I am dead, your lovely boyfriend can take my place.” His tone was thick with dark humor, but his eyes were completely serious. For a terrifying second, I couldn’t tell if he was joking. I just stared at him, paralyzed. Then, a low chuckle rumbled in his chest, genuine amusement dancing in his eyes. “You really want to kill me, don’t you?” “I suppose I would allow it.” I glared at him through my tears. “You are despicable.” The smile never left his face. He simply reached over, intertwining his long fingers with mine, completely ignoring my resistance. He looked incredibly satisfied. “You can think whatever you want about me. It does not matter.” “All that matters, Isla, is that you are going to be my wife.” Victor leaned back against the hospital pillows, that exact same half smile playing at the corners of his mouth. It was the exact same arrogant smirk from three years ago. I took a deep breath, swallowing down the curse words burning on my tongue. I could not yell at him. The man literally had brain damage. Grabbing my designer tote, I turned to leave, nearly colliding with Simon as he walked in. He held out a sleek, rectangular velvet box. “Mrs. Sinclair, Mr. Sinclair asked me to bring this for you.” Inside rested a vintage Italian sable watercolor brush. I had lingered on a picture of it in an art magazine for maybe two extra seconds last week. It was always like this. Whenever I showed the slightest flicker of interest in something, it miraculously appeared in my hands a few days later. I cast a sideways glance at the man in the bed. He was deeply engrossed in his paperwork, acting as if the entire exchange had nothing to do with him. That familiar, suffocating knot tightened in my throat again. I tossed the velvet box onto the edge of his mattress. “I do not accept gifts from strangers.” 3 The sky outside the studio window slowly bled into a bruised purple. I had been sitting at my easel all afternoon, ruining sketch after sketch. My mind was an absolute mess. Victor losing his memory should have felt like a massive victory. But instead, a heavy, suffocating weight pressed down on my chest. It wasn’t sadness. It wasn’t pity. It was a bizarre, irrational wave of anger. It felt like… I actually cared that he had forgotten me. When he asked about our marriage today, my answer wasn’t entirely a lie. In the beginning, it truly was terrible. For the first two months of our marriage, I refused to eat at the same table as him. I treated him like a ghost haunting my own house. Even when I caught a horrific fever in the middle of the night, and he scooped me out of bed to force medicine down my throat, I just slapped him across the face. He didn’t even flinch. He just took the hit, his expression completely blank, and muttered, “You have no strength left. Take the pills, then you can hit me again.” Victor seemed to possess an infinite threshold for my anger. And somewhere along the way, my bitter resentment slowly morphed into a quiet, reluctant reliance. When exactly did the shift happen? I couldn’t pinpoint the exact day. Maybe it was the night of that corporate gala, when he introduced me to his ruthless business partners as “Isla, the brilliant artist,” rather than “Mrs. Sinclair.” Maybe it was during the Autumn Art Expo, when a rival gallery intentionally moved my pieces to a dark, hidden corner. Victor canceled a multi million dollar board meeting just to show up and tear the organizers apart. Or maybe it was the time I went on a mountain retreat to paint and got caught in a massive mudslide. The roads collapsed, the bridges washed out, and he walked five miles through a torrential downpour just to find me. Three years. He moved into my life like water, silently seeping into every single crack and crevice. By the time I finally noticed, he was everywhere. But now, he had wiped the slate clean. We were right back at square one. I sat in the dark for a few more minutes before throwing my brushes into the sink and grabbing my coat. The crisp night air hit my face, carrying the sweet scent of blooming jasmine. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a familiar black luxury car idling near the curb. I froze. Simon quickly stepped out and opened the rear door for me. And there, sitting in the leather backseat instead of a hospital bed, was Victor. “What are you doing here?” The white gauze was still taped to his temple, though his color looked much better. “I was on my way.” I didn’t even have the energy to roll my eyes. “This road leads to a dead end. Where exactly were you heading?” Victor let out a low chuckle. “Who said it leads to nowhere? It led me straight to you, didn’t it?” I ignored his smooth talking and slid into the seat next to him. The amber glow of the streetlights flickered across the tinted windows, illuminating the sharp angles of his face in flashes. “What do you want for dinner?” I turned my head to stare out the window. “I am not hungry.” Victor gave a soft laugh. “Are you not hungry, or do you just not want to eat with me?” I couldn’t stop myself from shooting him a deadly glare. His eyes only crinkled with deeper amusement. “Well, that is a shame, because I really want to eat with you.” “You are just going to have to suffer through it.” Even with his memories completely wiped, his ability to get under my skin remained absolutely flawless. 4 The Maybach pulled up to an exclusive French bistro downtown. The hostess guided us to a private booth by the floor to ceiling windows. While we waited for our appetizers, we sat in total silence. The only sound was the soft, melancholic melody drifting from the grand piano in the center of the room. Victor studied my face for a long time before casually tilting his head. “Were our dinners always this quiet?” “I don’t remember.” “Have we eaten here before?” “I have no idea.” “Do we go out on dates often?” “I couldn’t tell you.” Victor let out a quiet sigh. “Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe I am the one with amnesia.” That single sentence acted like a match to gasoline. I fell silent for a heavy second before flipping my phone face down onto the marble table. “And? Do you want a medal for forgetting?” Victor clearly didn’t expect the raw hostility in my voice. His playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a serious intensity. “Isla, that is not what I meant.” “I don’t care what you meant.” “Victor, I am not obligated to tutor you on our past. If you want to remember, figure it out yourself. If you can’t, then just let it go.” The rest of the meal tasted like cardboard. I set down my silverware and pushed my chair back. “I am going to the restroom.” The restrooms were tucked away at the back of the restaurant, past a dimly lit corridor lined with towering monstera plants. I kept my head down as I washed my hands, the cold water splashing against my skin. I didn’t notice the quiet footsteps approaching until a tall figure stepped up beside me. He didn’t turn on the faucet. I instinctively glanced up, meeting a pair of eyes in the mirror that were both deeply familiar and completely foreign. He was dressed in a tailored, expensive suit, radiating a quiet, refined maturity. He looked absolutely nothing like the struggling, broke college student I used to know. “Isla?” The unexpected reunion clearly caught Oliver off guard. His voice wavered with a hint of disbelief. I hadn’t expected to run into him here either. After he left me three years ago, we cut all contact. I only heard through mutual friends that he had moved to Europe. “It has been a long time, Oliver.” “A very long time.” Oliver pressed his lips together. He looked like a man drowning in a thousand unspoken words. His gaze eventually drifted down, landing heavily on the diamond ring flashing on my left hand. He swallowed hard. “Have you… been doing well these past few years?” I offered a polite, distant smile and tossed my paper towel into the trash bin. “I have been great.” “That is good.” After those three words, the air between us completely died. I noticed a cigarette pinched between his fingers. He kept twirling it nervously, making no move to light it. “I should get back to my table.” Oliver blinked, snapping out of his daze, and nodded quickly. “Right. Take care.” When I returned to the booth, Victor was leaning back in his chair, slowly swirling the ice water in his crystal glass. Seeing me approach, he set the glass down, his dark eyes locking onto my face for a split second. He asked the question entirely too casually. “What took you so long?” “There was a line.” “Do you want to order dessert?” “No, I am full. Let’s go home.” He didn’t press the issue. He simply stood up, wrapped his warm hand around mine, and led me toward the exit. Deep in the shadows of the corridor we had just left, a solitary figure leaned against the textured wallpaper. A tiny spark flared in the dark as the cigarette finally ignited, the cherry glowing dull red through the leaves of the monstera plant. 5 The Boston Autumn Art Salon was the biggest event of the year, and I was honored to be featured among the invited artists. Usually, Victor would be hovering right over my shoulder at these events, but today, he was nowhere to be found. Halfway through the exhibition, the gallery curator approached me, whispering that a VIP collector was extremely interested in one of my pieces and requested a private chat. When I stepped into the viewing area, I immediately recognized the broad shoulders facing my canvas. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit, a Patek Philippe watch gleaming subtly on his wrist. He looked like the epitome of low key wealth. Hearing my footsteps, Oliver turned around, a soft, nostalgic smile playing on his lips. “We meet again.” We both turned our attention back to the canvas. It was an oil painting of an old, ivy covered gazebo on our college campus. I had painted it six months ago, right after being invited back to the university to give an alumni speech. Oliver’s eyes softened completely. “The rain was pouring so hard that day. I still remember your canvas shoes were completely soaked.” The memory hit me instantly. That gazebo was the exact spot where Oliver and I had first crossed paths. We had both sprinted under the wooden roof to escape a sudden thunderstorm. It was an impossibly cliché, ridiculously perfect coincidence. I stayed quiet for a long moment before offering a tight, polite smile. “That is all in the past now.” Oliver looked down at me, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “Is it in the past? Because I remember every single detail.” He knew exactly when to pull back. He dropped the heavy nostalgia and seamlessly transitioned into a professional discussion about purchasing the artwork. We had only exchanged a few sentences about pricing when a chilling voice drifted from behind us. “Isla.”

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1. I took the bullet for Richard when his pet project crashed and burned. In exchange, he promised me a year-end promotion and a hefty raise. Yet the moment the layoff rumors started circulating, I was the very first person called into his office. “Harper, corporate is restructuring. Your metrics are at the bottom of the barrel, so we have to let you go.” I stared at the termination agreement. The words “Stack Ranking Elimination” glared back at me. I did not argue with him. I simply packed my things in silence. And then I took a seat in the office directly across from his. The one with the frosted glass marked “Exclusive Corporate Auditor.” … “Harper, regarding the restructuring, you are the first on the list.” Richard’s voice was completely devoid of warmth. I sat across from him in the conference room. The air conditioning was cranked up so high the chill seeped right into my bones. He slid a manila folder across the mahogany table. It was a formal termination notice. The words “Performance-Based Termination” stung my eyes. “Richard, I recall the performance reviews for this month. I was nowhere near the bottom.” My voice was dead calm. Richard barely lifted his eyes from his phone. “The company looks at the big picture, Harper. It is not just about raw sales.” “Besides, you know exactly how much money your mistakes cost us on Project Apex.” I stared at him, my mind going completely blank for a fraction of a second. Project Apex was his brainchild. His flawed decision-making nearly cost the firm ten million dollars. It was me who stayed up for three consecutive nights with my team, rebuilding the entire data model from scratch to stop the bleeding. And it was him who stood in my office, looked me dead in the eye, and said those exact words. “Harper, just take the bullet for me on this one. I swear I will make you Vice Director by December.” Now, that very same project was the weapon he was using to execute my career. The HR Manager, Davis, cleared his throat from the corner of the room. “Harper, our hands are tied here. You have to understand the business side of things.” “Just sign the paperwork. We are offering a very standard severance package to make this easy.” I did not even glance at the contract. My gaze drifted right past Richard and landed on Sophie, the new intern standing by the filing cabinet. Sophie was looking down, pretending to sort papers, but a smug smirk was plastered across her glossy lips. She was wearing a brand-new designer dress. The exact same limited-edition dress Richard had bought during his business trip last week. Even the potted monstera plant I had nurtured on my desk for three years had already been relocated to her cubicle. Richard sighed, tapping his expensive watch in annoyance. “Do not waste our time, Harper. We have a long list of people to get through today.” “Your performance is dragging the whole department down. People have been complaining to me for weeks.” I took a deep breath and stood up. “Understood.” I left the pen on the table, turned around, and walked out. Back at my desk, the bullpen was dead silent. My colleagues kept their heads glued to their monitors, typing aggressively to avoid making eye contact with me. A thick, suffocating awkwardness hung in the air. I began dropping my life into a cardboard box. Piles of market research, client files, and the crystal trophy engraved with my name. Richard had handed me that trophy himself after I secured the massive Southside Development deal. At the celebration dinner, he had raised his glass and announced to the whole room. “Harper is the lucky charm of this division! She is my absolute right-hand woman!” Now, he was chopping off his right hand just to save his own skin. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a Slack message from Greg. “Harper, what the hell is going on? I just heard you got pulled into the firing squad?” “How can they PIP you? You were literally the top biller last quarter!” I typed back. “It is about Project Apex.” Greg instantly tried to call me. I hit decline. I was not in the mood to talk. A wall of furious text popped up on my screen a second later. “Are you kidding me! If it wasn’t for you, corporate would have fired his incompetent ass months ago!” “He forced that project through against everyone’s advice, and you cleaned up his mess!” “You cannot just let him get away with this, Harper! Go to corporate HR! File an appeal!” I kept my fingers steady as I replied. “Calm down, Greg.” “He did this because he thinks I have zero leverage.” “This termination notice was a theatrical performance.” The clack of high heels interrupted me. Sophie sauntered over, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Do you need some help with that, Harper?” She pointed a manicured finger at my master project binder. “Those files are highly confidential. Richard told me to take over your accounts, so you can just hand that over to me.” Her eyes sparkled with naked ambition and petty triumph. I looked at her the way one might look at a clown performing a cheap trick. I picked up the heavy binder and shoved it into her chest. “Good luck.” She hugged the binder like she had just won the lottery. “Thanks! I will definitely work super hard so I don’t disappoint Richard.” Richard stepped out of the glass conference room and clapped his hands loudly to get the floor’s attention. “Everyone, stop what you are doing for a second. I have an announcement.” “Effective immediately, Harper is leaving us due to personal reasons. Sophie will be taking over all her active accounts.” “Also, let us congratulate Sophie. She has officially passed her probation and is being promoted to Project Lead.” The title he had promised me was handed to a twenty-two-year-old intern who had been here for three months. You could hear a pin drop in the office. I picked up my cardboard box and walked toward the exit, feeling the weight of a dozen stares burning into my back. As I walked past Richard, he did not even bother to look in my direction. He was already leaning in, whispering softly to Sophie. “Where do you want to go for your celebration dinner tonight?” 2. I carried my box out the revolving glass doors. The glaring afternoon sun made my eyes water. Instead of going home, I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address to the corporate headquarters downtown. Greg called me again. This time, I answered. “Harper! Are you seriously just walking away? How can you swallow this?” His voice was shaking with pure outrage. “I am furious! Richard and that little intern are treating you like absolute dirt!” I leaned against the cool metal wall of the elevator, my initial shock having completely crystallized into cold clarity. “Greg, he fired me because I know too much. He wants me gone.” “If I throw a tantrum in the lobby, he will just have security drag me out.” “He planned this perfectly.” Greg was practically growling into the receiver. “So what? You made this company millions! Now he throws a bucket of dirty water on your head and kicks you to the curb?” I watched the digital floor numbers climbing higher and higher. “Of course I am not letting it go, Greg.” “Then what are you going to do? Tell me!” I hung up the phone. I opened the PDF of my termination notice that HR had just emailed me. I took a clean screenshot. Then, I logged into a hidden corporate email portal on my phone. An administrative account I had never used before. The recipient was Bennett, the Secretary of the Board of Directors. I attached the screenshot, along with a massive encrypted zip file containing every single piece of raw data from Project Apex. I also attached a crystal-clear audio recording of Richard begging me to be his fall guy in his office. In the body of the email, I typed a single, simple sentence. “My name is Harper. I am officially activating my Corporate Auditor protocol.” I hit send and powered off my phone. A year ago, Richard was managing a failing branch. They had bled money for three consecutive quarters. Headquarters had issued an ultimatum. One more quarter in the red, and the entire branch would be liquidated. I was the one who stepped up. I led a skeleton crew, worked through the holidays, and secured the Southside Development, landing the biggest contract in the branch’s history. I practically spoon-fed Richard. I taught him how to analyze the market data, how to forecast trends, and how to write the executive presentations he gave to the Board. Thanks to me, our branch became the crown jewel of the enterprise. His throne was finally secure. And suddenly, the architect who built his throne became a threat. I knew all his weak spots, so I had to be eliminated. My phone buzzed as I turned it back on. Greg was spamming me with screenshots. “Harper! Look at the company Slack! It is a warzone!” “Richard just posted a company-wide announcement saying you were fired for gross negligence. He is actively implying you were embezzling funds!” I did not even bother opening the app. I knew exactly what was happening. Sophie, lacking any actual brain cells, had probably whispered poison in his ear. She wanted to be the new right-hand woman, which meant she needed to bury the predecessor six feet under. They were a match made in heaven. Two absolute fools. Richard’s days of playing king were officially over. I walked into a pristine office on the top floor and slowly wiped a speck of dust off the mahogany desk. 3. At two o’clock the following afternoon, I returned to the branch office. This time, I wore the title of Corporate Auditor. I did not give anyone a heads-up. When I pushed through the double glass doors, the receptionist dropped her pen, her jaw practically hitting the desk. She stared at the unfamiliar solid gold corporate badge clipped to my lapel, entirely unsure if she was supposed to call security. I walked right past her without breaking stride. Richard was standing outside his office, looking incredibly smug as he explained something to Sophie. When he saw me, he froze. His smug smile warped into a deep, ugly scowl. “Harper? What the hell are you doing here? You don’t work here anymore.” He stepped forward to block my path, his tone dripping with the arrogant authority of a man protecting his territory. I kept my face completely blank and walked right past him. I could hear him barking orders behind my back. “Who let her in? Get security up here now! Throw her out!” “You got fired for being dead last in performance, and you still have the nerve to show your face?” The new hires who didn’t know me watched the scene unfold with wide, fearful eyes, clearly intimidated by Richard’s rage. I turned the corner and stopped in front of the door directly opposite his office. It was a room that had been locked for years. The frosted glass read “Exclusive Corporate Auditor.” I lifted my new gold badge and tapped it against the security scanner. A soft beep echoed through the dead silent office floor. The heavy magnetic lock clicked open. I pushed the door open, stepped inside, and closed it firmly behind me, making sure everyone got a good look. The entire bullpen plunged into absolute, suffocating silence. I could hear someone gasp in the cubicles. Richard’s aggressive shouting was instantly choked off, as if someone had wrapped a hand around his throat. I could only imagine the spectacular color of his face at that exact moment. My laptop chimed. Greg was messaging me on the encrypted internal server. “Holy shit! Harper! Are you a Corporate Auditor?” “I just saw you walk in! The entire floor is losing their minds!” Greg followed up seconds later. “I bet Richard’s little stunt yesterday triggered some alarms at HQ!” “He thought he was invincible once he kicked you out. He is so dead!” I allowed a small smirk to touch my lips. I booted up the desktop and logged directly into the enterprise’s highest-clearance administrative portal. Outside, the whispers were spreading like wildfire. Every single person in the building had witnessed me unlocking that door. Chaos was beginning to brew inside Richard’s office. Greg’s live updates kept rolling in. “Richard locked himself in his office. He has been on the phone for thirty minutes.” “He just bolted out of his room looking like a ghost. He was screaming at HR Davis, asking where your personnel file was.” “Davis is sweating bullets. He told Richard that corporate HQ confiscated your physical file yesterday afternoon.” Within thirty minutes, a parade of nervous department heads began scurrying in and out of Richard’s office. The panic was finally setting in. 4. Desperate for damage control, Richard made Sophie post an announcement in the main Slack channel. “Tagging everyone. Please focus on your deliverables and do not listen to office gossip.” “Just because certain individuals use shady tactics to sneak back into the building does not change the fact that they were fired for dead-last performance.” “Management will strictly penalize anyone caught disrupting the workplace environment.” He actually believed that if he lied aggressively enough, people would blindly accept it. Greg messaged me again. “Harper, this bastard is still doubling down!” “He is such a moron!” “He is definitely panicking now, though. I just caught him ordering Davis to permanently delete your PIP evaluation records from the server.” Richard was completely losing his grip on reality. He started making frantic, loud phone calls with his office door wide open. “Hello? Secretary Bennett? Yes, this is Richard. I just wanted to inquire about the new Corporate Auditor situation…” “What? You are in a meeting? No, wait, I just need a second to ask about Harper…” I couldn’t hear the response, but Richard’s voice instantly shrank to a pathetic squeak. “Yes, sir. Understood, sir. I apologize for interrupting.” He hung up the phone. His face had gone from pale to a sickly shade of gray. Finally, one of the newly promoted team leads couldn’t take the suspense anymore. He knocked tentatively on Richard’s door. “Richard, what exactly is Harper’s status here?” “The whole floor is freaking out. We need some clarity.” That question was the spark that lit the powder keg. Richard pretended he didn’t hear him. Instead, he frantically typed out a bonus announcement in the general chat. “Thanks to our heroic efforts on Project Apex, everyone involved is getting a double bonus this month!” The team lead standing in his doorway asked again. “Richard? Are you listening? Everyone is waiting for an explanation!” Richard’s pathetic attempt to play dumb finally pushed Greg over the edge. Greg couldn’t hold back anymore. He stood up in the middle of the bullpen and shouted at the top of his lungs. “Stop acting like an idiot, Richard! Harper is the Corporate Auditor sent by the Board to investigate you! What are you playing at?” Those words hit the office like a bomb. The floor erupted. “Wait, what? Corporate Auditor?” “No way! Didn’t he say she was fired for incompetence?” “Oh my god! That means everything Richard said yesterday was a complete lie!” A few of the veteran analysts I had personally mentored immediately caught on. “Exactly! I knew there was no way Harper was at the bottom of the metrics!” “Tagging Richard. Say something! You can’t just burn bridges and expect us to stay quiet!” “Keep your dirty bonus money! I don’t want a dime of it! Tagging Richard.” Dozens of eyes were currently drilling holes into Richard’s glass office. He was still trying to play dead. Greg let out a loud scoff. He pulled up the email screenshot I had sent to the Board Secretary and posted it anonymously into the massive company-wide channel. “Hard evidence! What is your excuse now, Richard?” With the undeniable proof glaring on their screens, the employees finally snapped. The notifications pinged relentlessly as a tidal wave of outrage forced Richard out of hiding.

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1 The night I accepted his proposal, a message flashed from an unknown number. The sender’s name chilled me: “Samuel, from the future.” I brushed it off as a joke, texting back, asking with a laugh if he’d finally married me, and whether we’d had a cute baby. There was a long pause before the reply came. He said we did marry, becoming the envy of everyone. Then the messages turned dark. He admitted to cheating—with my own sister, Victoria. On the night of our engagement, they’d gotten drunk, and he confused her for me. It became an “unforgettable night.” He described her wild passion, so unlike my reserve. He claimed his heart was mine, but he craved her body. They continued the affair in secret—until Victoria became pregnant. The day I went into labor, he bribed the doctor to swap my stillborn baby with Victoria’s healthy one. My mind said it was a prank, but my heart felt pierced by ice. As I tried to close the chat, a new link appeared: If you don’t believe me, click to see the truth. … Some unseen force guided my thumb, and I clicked. My world plunged into darkness. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital. A flood of unfamiliar memories was forced into my mind. I was in labor. The baby was coming. Samuel was holding my hand, his grip tight. He leaned in and whispered, his words a venomous secret meant only for me. “Victoria’s child is mine. I promised her I’d give the baby my name.” “Be a good girl, Amelia. Our next baby, I’ll let you keep that one.” I thought the pain was making me hallucinate. Then, the doctor pulled a lifeless bundle of flesh from between my legs and shook his head. “What a shame, it was a boy. If we try to resuscitate now… there might still be a chance.” Samuel’s voice was as cold as a morgue slab. “Don’t. Just save my wife.” And then, I passed out. I fumbled for my phone. The screen displayed the date: October 11th, 2029. Had I really traveled three years into the future? The deep, aching soreness in my body confirmed it. This was no dream. Suddenly, an address materialized in my thoughts. It was the house Samuel and I would share in this future. The dream home we’d always talked about, now a physical reality. A pathetic flicker of joy ignited within me, and I hailed a cab. The moment I pushed open the front door, that flicker was extinguished, and my world shattered. A pair of scarlet stilettos. A rumpled dress shirt. A creased tie. A trail of debauchery led from the foyer, through the living room, and up the stairs to the master bedroom. Through the slightly ajar door, every sound was a new twist of the knife in my heart. “Vicky, I swear, you’re even better after giving birth…” “You’re so soft… God, I just want to hold you like this every single day.” Victoria’s voice was a sugary purr. “Oh, stop. Aren’t you afraid Amelia will find out and lose her mind?” “Baby, can you please focus on me? Don’t mention other people…” My hand shook as I pushed the door open. The scene inside was even more heated than I’d imagined. They were a tangle of limbs, moving from the bed to the floor and back again, completely lost in each other. They hadn’t noticed me. Bile rose in my throat. I grabbed a picture frame from the nightstand and hurled it at them. The sound of shattering glass sliced through the air. A sharp fragment flew back and cut my cheek. Samuel instinctively pulled Victoria into his arms, shielding her. He looked at me, a flash of surprise in his eyes, before he quickened his pace, finished, and then gently laid the now-sleeping Victoria on the bed. He lit a cigarette, his expression indifferent as he watched the blood trickle down my face. “Vicky’s exhausted. If you’re going to have a meltdown, get the hell out and do it somewhere else.” He kicked at a piece of broken glass on the floor, his eyes filled with contempt. “And take this trash with you. I don’t want her to get hurt.” My gaze fell to the debris on the floor. A shattered photograph of us glinted up at me. It was the only picture of the two of us in the entire house. On the day of our wedding photoshoot, I had been in the hospital, trying to prevent a miscarriage. So Victoria had stood in for me, wearing my gown, for the entire session. “AI is so advanced now, we’ll just swap her face with yours later,” he’d said. “Besides, Vicky has a better figure. The dress looks better on her anyway.” On our wedding night, not only had the photos not been changed, but Victoria had also taken my place in the marriage bed. My vision blurred as tears streamed silently down my face. Seeing me cry, Samuel seemed to soften for a moment. He offered me a tissue. “Don’t cry. After all these years, I still can’t stand to see you cry.” I flinched away from his hand. “Samuel,” I said, my voice quiet but firm, “I want a divorce.” He froze. His expression shifted from shock to disbelief, then to something close to horror. “So… you really are the Amelia from three years ago?” he whispered. “You actually clicked that link?” I was just as stunned. “How did you know?” He let out a low, bitter laugh, the mockery in his eyes undisguised. “Because the Amelia of this time would never look at me like that,” he said. “And she would never, ever ask for a divorce.” He was right. The Amelia of this time had her heart ground to dust by years of betrayal. She had chosen to let her marriage fester into a toxic swamp, determined to drag him down into the muck with her. She wanted Victoria forever branded as a home-wrecker. She wanted the cheating husband to be reviled by the world until the day he died. But the Amelia from three years ago… she just wanted out. More memories flooded in, connecting to that night on the beach, three years ago. Under a sky full of stars, Samuel knelt and proposed. But halfway through, his phone rang. He took the call and vanished for the entire night. I later found out it was Victoria who had called. He’d told me, “Wait for me, I’ll be right back.” I waited all night, the cold sea breeze chilling me to the bone. By morning, I was sick. When I woke up, both Samuel and Victoria were by my bedside, their eyes red-rimmed. Victoria’s lips were slightly swollen, her neck covered in angry, red marks. Samuel’s hair was a mess, his arms crisscrossed with scratches. The evidence was everywhere, screaming at me. But then Victoria burst into tears, claiming she’d been tricked and beaten by a scumbag boyfriend, and that Samuel had saved her life. And because of that, I let my suspicions go. To make up for abandoning me, Samuel bought me a one-of-a-kind wedding gown, a breathtaking creation covered entirely in diamonds. It was a fairy tale. But as I was basking in my happiness, I got the call. My father had died of a sudden heart attack. I collapsed. After my mother passed, my father was all I had. His condition had been stable for years. Something must have triggered it. I searched every inch of our security footage but found nothing. Then, in a box of his old things, I found his camera. He’d taken up photography after he retired. A sixth sense made my hands tremble as I turned it on and pressed play. The scene that unfolded on the small screen shattered my soul. Samuel was pinning Victoria to the living room sofa, both of them naked. Victoria’s red bra was hanging from Samuel’s neck, swinging back and forth like a triumphant flag. The camera shook violently. Then came the sound of my father hitting the floor. A sharp pain lanced through my chest, and the world spun. I coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed. When I woke up, the doctor told me I was pregnant. I was only two months along, but I was already showing signs of a miscarriage. Samuel knelt by my bed, slapping himself across the face, over and over. “I’m so sorry. Vicky was in a bad place and asked me to stay with her.” “We both had too much to drink, and we… we crossed a line.” “But we didn’t… we didn’t go all the way before…” Before my father caught you. I started laughing, a wild, unhinged sound, and began to beat my own stomach. “You killed my father, Samuel! Now I’m going to kill your child!” He just held me, letting my fists and nails rain down on his face and chest. It was only when Victoria came in to “apologize” that he reacted. I lunged at her, ready to tear her apart, but Samuel shoved me. Hard. My stomach slammed into the corner of a table. I crumpled to the ground as blood poured down my thighs. “Vicky’s pregnant,” he said, his voice flat. “I can’t let you hurt her.” I laughed, the sound cold and broken. So Victoria’s child was precious. But mine was disposable. The doctors rushed in and gave me a sedative. As my consciousness faded, I saw him lift Victoria into his arms and walk away without a backward glance. After that, Samuel kept me in a private VIP hospital room. A prisoner, force-fed medications, subjected to endless treatments to save a pregnancy he never wanted. He refused to let me lose the baby, but not because he loved it. He needed my child as a cover, a way to legitimize the one Victoria was carrying. He married me, giving me a title and a ring, but our marriage was a sham. Then he turned around and gave Victoria the wedding of the century. Everyone thought she was Mrs. Price. I was just the crazy woman locked away in a hospital, dependent on drugs to survive. The agonizing memories flashed through my mind, one after another. Samuel leaned down and gently kissed the tears from my eyes. “Amelia, I’m so sorry you have to remember all of that.” “But it’s in the past. We can start over now. Okay?” Just then, Victoria stirred. She saw Samuel holding me, and a flash of hatred crossed her face. Then, she threw herself at my feet, sobbing. “Sister, please, for the sake of our childhood, you have to forgive me!” “Samuel and I talked. This was the last time. We’re done.” “You two can be happy together. Don’t worry about me. Just… just pretend I’m dead!” I sneered. “Then why don’t you go die?” Samuel pulled her to her feet and roared at me. “That’s enough! Vicky has been through hell with her own husband. I was just comforting her. Don’t you dare push your luck!” “If it weren’t for her, you would have died years ago! What’s the big deal about giving her one child?” He was right. When I was five, I was diagnosed with a rare blood disease. My father found Victoria in an orphanage and adopted her so she could be my bone marrow donor. She saved my life. A debt of life should be repaid. But our family raised her for eighteen years. My father treated her like his own flesh and blood, showering her with affection and even giving her half of the family inheritance. But she knew about my father’s weak heart. She knew any shock could kill him. And she brought Samuel into our home and had sex with him anyway. She was my mortal enemy. I wanted to see her suffer. Victoria grabbed my hand again. “Amelia, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything, just please forgive me.” A wave of pure hatred washed over me. I seized her by the hair and slammed her head against the wall. “Then die,” I hissed. “Die, and then I’ll forgive you.” Samuel rushed over and threw me to the ground. “Amelia, are you insane? That’s your sister!” Victoria continued her act, weeping pitifully. She took the baby from the nanny and held him out to me. “Sister, this is my son with Samuel.” “I’m putting him under your name on the birth certificate. Consider it my apology.” She leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper only I could hear. “Oh, and I forgot to tell you. Samuel was worried you might have another child of your own one day and mistreat my precious baby.” “So while you were unconscious, he had you sterilized.” “You’ll never be a mother, Amelia. Everything you have now will belong to my son. Doesn’t that just eat you alive?” “Get away from me!” I screamed, shoving her away. The baby let out a piercing wail. Victoria immediately started crying. “Sister, I know you’re angry, but take it out on me! The baby is so small, why would you pinch him?!” Before she even finished the sentence, a hand cracked across my face. “You venomous bitch,” Samuel spat, his eyes blazing. “You’d even harm a newborn?” “If I had known you were this vile, I would have locked you in that hospital and thrown away the key!” He gathered Victoria and the baby into his arms and delivered his cold command. “Drag her to the basement. Don’t let her out until I say so.” He knew. He knew I’d had severe claustrophobia since I was a child, that I was terrified of the dark. But he let them drag me away, ignoring my desperate, broken sobs as he locked the door, sealing me in the darkness. That night, I cried until I had no tears left. I watched the video my father had left behind, over and over again. And a plan, a seed of pure vengeance, began to grow in my mind. At dawn, Samuel came down with a bowl of porridge. He looked exhausted. “I was wrong yesterday,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have hit Vicky.” “She did nothing wrong. It was all my fault.” “Tomorrow is the baby’s christening. I want you to be there.” “I’ve broken things off with her. From now on, things will be good between us. Please, stop fighting, okay?” I clutched my phone. Tomorrow? Good. At the christening, I will give you and Victoria a surprise you’ll never forget.

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During my vacation, I received an urgent message asking me to return for overtime work. My job is highly specialized, and all my assignments are classified. I immediately booked a first-class ticket on the nearest available flight. But when I tried to board, I was stopped. “I’m sorry, ma’am, the flight is overbooked, so you’ll have to take the next flight. We’ll compensate you five hundred dollars.” The airport staff member was polite and gentle as she changed my flight information for me. I disagreed and voiced my refusal, but they acted as if they couldn’t hear me. I called the person who had booked my ticket for me. He said he had used a special channel to purchase it. No one had the authority to prevent me from boarding. The plane was taking off in forty minutes, and my flight information had already been changed. But dozens of lives at my destination were waiting for me. The airport staff member handed me the new boarding pass with both hands. Looking at the sixteen-hour wait until the next boarding time, by the time I arrived, it would probably be too late for everything. I tried to communicate again. “Sir, could you please check once more? How could first class be overbooked?” “I’m in first class, not economy.” I emphasized. The other person rolled their eyes impatiently, their tone maintaining professional gentleness. But the words dripped with sarcasm. “We know, ma’am. We all know you gritted your teeth to buy a first-class ticket.” “First time flying it, right? Couldn’t bear to leave the first-class lounge, which is why you’re so late.” “You only have yourself to blame for not watching the time.” Hearing this, I knew something was wrong. Just a moment ago, they said it was because the flight was overbooked that they wouldn’t let me board. Now their words implied I was late, which was why I couldn’t board. But the boarding pass stated that the gate closed forty minutes before departure, and I had arrived forty-five minutes before takeoff. “When I arrived, the gate was still open. Economy passengers were still rushing over. There were even people boarding after me.” “How am I late?” “Moreover, did you see me lingering in the first-class lounge?” I tried to control my anger and anxiety, attempting to reason with them. “In any case, I don’t agree to the rebooking. You must let me board.” “You also have no authority to rebook a first-class passenger who can board at any moment.” “Alright, alright, stop emphasizing that you’re in first class.” The airport staff member said impatiently. “As if you’re afraid people won’t know you’re flying first class. This is probably the only time in your life you’ll get to do it, so you can’t wait to announce it to everyone.” “How embarrassing.” He muttered under his breath, but I still heard him. I pointed at him angrily. “How can you be so rude!” Our argument attracted other waiting passengers. “What’s wrong? Which flight can’t take off?” someone asked. The staff member at the gate immediately put on a wronged expression. “This passenger arrived late, and we’ve already closed the boarding gate.” “She insists on boarding and wants the entire plane to wait for her.” “She keeps emphasizing she’s in first class, saying we can’t let the plane take off without her, and she’s going to file a complaint against us.” “We’ve been trying to convince her for ages. We’re rebooking her for free and giving her five hundred dollars in compensation, but she still won’t agree.” “We pooled that money ourselves.” Hearing this, the gathering crowd looked at me with condemning eyes. “They’re just working folks, it’s not easy for them.” “Exactly. They work hard too, and their salaries aren’t high. You’re flying first class and you’re haggling over five hundred dollars?” “Which princess escaped from home? Do you really think the whole world revolves around you?” I took a deep breath. “I arrived at the gate on time and wasn’t late.” “They first said first class was overbooked and forcibly prevented me from boarding, then changed my flight information without my consent.” “Then they accused me of not having money, of pretending to be rich and not wanting to leave the first-class lounge, which is why I was late.” “I’m just defending my rights. How am I making the world revolve around me?” The onlookers exchanged glances. Still, someone spoke up. “Well, you don’t need to make things difficult for them.” “Whether you can board or not isn’t up to them. Who knows what your situation really is?” “Exactly. Would the staff refuse to let you board for no reason?” “And what’s wrong with taking the next flight? They’re giving you compensation. Causing a disturbance here and bothering others—what a shrew.” Several men spoke righteously, muttering under their breath, “Who knows where she got the money for first class.” I was about to lose my temper when someone said, “The supervisor is here.” A man in a navy blue suit approached with several people. He spoke authoritatively. “What’s going on here? Hasn’t this gate already stopped boarding?” “Why are so many people still gathered here?”

Seeing a supervisor arrive, my heart settled down a bit. “Hello, supervisor. I’m a passenger on this flight. I arrived at the gate before it closed for check-in.” “But for some reason, the staff here found various excuses not to let me board and forcibly changed my flight.” “I only have one requirement. I’m in a hurry and must take this flight. Please investigate and let me board as soon as possible.” I calmly described the problem I encountered and stated my request. I couldn’t help thinking that if this operation hadn’t been sudden and top secret, I would suspect this staff member was sent by the enemy. Hearing my words, the supervisor adjusted his glasses. I had a strange feeling about the way he looked at me. “Ma’am, give me your passport. I’ll look into this.” Upon hearing this, I handed him my passport and anxiously checked the time on my phone. After about three or four minutes, the supervisor spoke. “Ma’am, my system shows you obtained your boarding pass five minutes before the gate closed.” “For you to get through security and arrive here, it would take at least eight minutes, not to mention this is peak holiday season.” “It really wouldn’t be possible to arrive within the designated time. I’m very sorry, ma’am, but our airport staff made no error.” I shook my head in disbelief. “How is that possible?” My voice was somewhat shrill from agitation. The supervisor maintained his gentle smile. “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but those are the facts. You can only take the next flight.” “Even the supervisor says she was late, and she still wants to argue.” “She’ll probably go crazy soon. Does whoever makes the most noise win? That’s how women are.” “Don’t say that. Not all of us women are like her. She’s really an embarrassment.” I refused to give up and confirmed the time with him repeatedly, but the answer was always, “I’m very sorry, ma’am.” The feeling of punching cotton made my stomach burn with anger. I didn’t want to use my authority to pressure them, but the situation was now urgent. I picked up my phone and had just dialed when someone roughly bumped my arm. The phone slipped from my hand and was kicked toward the gate by someone. An airport staff member carrying a chair seemed to want to step over the phone but didn’t stand steady. The chair crashed down hard on the phone. The screen went black and shattered. The female airport staff member who had bumped me and the one carrying the chair rushed to stand in front of me. Their faces were full of panic. “Ma’am, we’re truly sorry. Please don’t file a complaint against us.” “We’re willing to compensate you for your phone. Please don’t tell anyone else.” Their words caused a stir among the surrounding people. “What do they mean?” “Tell anyone else? Could this woman be someone’s mistress?” “No wonder she’s so arrogant.” “But this mistress isn’t doing very well. That broken phone is obviously a garbage brand.” “She probably doesn’t know any better. Her sugar daddy buys her a fake and she doesn’t even realize it.” “I don’t think so.” Suddenly someone spoke as if defending me. “She doesn’t seem like that type.” “She’s not wearing a single valuable thing. She couldn’t possibly be kept by someone.” “I bet she starved herself for several months to buy a first-class ticket, hoping to find a sugar daddy.” “Otherwise, why would she be so anxious and keep emphasizing she’s in first class?” As this person spoke, everyone laughed. A gleam of triumph flashed in the supervisor’s eyes. He was definitely suspicious. I shouted angrily, “Call the police!” “Since we have a dispute, call the police and have them check the surveillance footage.” “And I’m saying this right now! If I don’t get on that plane today, it’s not taking off!”

None of the onlookers around me helped me call the police. They all believed I was an emotionally unstable crazy woman. I was waiting. Now that the gate had closed and the plane was about to take off, the people at my destination would surely confirm with the airport whether I had boarded. At that point, all obstacles would naturally disappear. But I didn’t expect someone would lie about this. Some people in the crowd started livestreaming on their phones with the title: [Princess Causes Scene in Airport Lounge.] The topic, full of gender antagonism, immediately attracted countless viewers. Multiple phones were held high, pointed at my face. “You’re violating my image rights. Turn off the livestream immediately, or I’ll sue you.” I couldn’t expose my identity, so I could only hope they would fear the law and restrain themselves. But the livestreamers just laughed and didn’t take my words seriously. They interacted with their livestream audience. “See that? The princess is throwing a fit.” “Protect me, guys. I’m risking being sued to livestream this for you.” [Don’t worry, streamer. Let her sue. We’ll pay the fine.] [Don’t be afraid. We want to see how this princess’s tantrum ends.] [This is hilarious. She says if she doesn’t board, the plane can’t fly. She really thinks she’s a princess.] [Women like this are just spoiled. Slap her once and she’ll behave.] Their cameras got closer and closer, while others blocked me from retrieving my phone. My fingers clenched tightly. My breathing became rapid, and my chest felt stuffy. On one hand, I worried about the situation at my destination. On the other, I feared this place had already been infiltrated. For no reason, I was being prevented from boarding. I suppressed my emotions and begged the women in the crowd to help me call the police. Their eyes darted away, and only one person spoke. “It’s not that we won’t help you, but given your current state, we’re afraid of being backstabbed.” “Right, what if you falsely accuse us of making a fake police report? Our own travel plans would be delayed too.” Someone added quietly, with some disgust in their eyes. “Gold-digging like this is never good. People should rely on their own efforts.” Someone else kindly advised. I didn’t defend myself and continued to beg desperately. “You can record a video proving I asked you to call the police. Any problems are mine.” “If your travel plans are delayed even slightly and you suffer any losses, I’ll compensate you ten times over.” Seeing that the women on my side were softening. The supervisor’s walkie-talkie crackled. He said a few words. Under my constant persuasion, a woman finally took out her phone to record a video and help me call the police. But then two teams of people in black uniforms came running over. My heart lifted with joy. I was about to say there was no need to call the police when I saw the large words on their chests. “Security.” “Security, over here. Someone is disturbing airport order and obstructing flight departure.” The supervisor shouted loudly. Another team in black uniforms also approached. This time it was the police. The supervisor’s face paled, but after they spoke, he looked at me triumphantly again. “Arrest her.”

“Hello, we received orders to protect the last first-class passenger to board.” “May I ask what that woman’s name is?” The airport supervisor paused, operated the computer for a moment, then turned the monitor toward the lead police officer. “Hello, officers. This is the last first-class passenger to board. Her name is Anna.” “Thank you. We need to ensure her flight takes off smoothly. Is there a problem?” “It’s her!” The supervisor pointed at me. “This Ms. Juliet keeps saying if she doesn’t board, the plane can’t take off.” “She’s been disrupting airport order and delaying the normal departure of the flight.” I looked at the police officers walking toward me. Something was wrong. Weren’t they supposed to be sent to protect me? Why? Oh, right. They didn’t want to leak my information prematurely. Odom probably thought I had already boarded. This is a misunderstanding. I need to explain quickly. Thinking this, I spoke. “Officers, this is all a misunderstanding.” “Now she says it’s a misunderstanding. Who knows who was so arrogant just now, clamoring that if she didn’t board, the plane couldn’t take off.” “Now she’s scared. The princess is about to get what’s coming to her. Send some more gifts so we can celebrate.” His interruption cut off what I was about to say. I was about to continue when the police officer saluted. “Ma’am, please come with us to the station to assist with the investigation. If we confirm you’re innocent, we’ll clear your name.” They moved to grab my arms and escort me out of the airport. A surge of blood rushed to my head. I felt my whole face tighten. Anger made me shout. “Forget the damn station! I need to get on that plane. Call your superior and ask who exactly you’re supposed to be protecting!” “I need to get to Washington to save lives, do you understand? If I don’t go, many people will die!” “I’m begging you, can you please figure out what orders you actually received?!” “And make them turn off those livestreams. Does police work need to be a public spectacle?” I was so angry I was speaking without thinking. The entire police team’s faces darkened. I had not only questioned their professionalism but also their intelligence. “We’re very clear about what orders we received.” “However, this colleague is right about one thing. Please turn off all livestreams and video recordings.” After speaking, two officers behind them went to check the phones of the onlookers. The airport supervisor sidled over. “Don’t be angry, officers.” “This Ms. Juliet is just like this—unreasonable. She probably has some mental problems and thinks the whole Earth belongs to her family.” “We can just take her in for criticism and education.” Then he turned to me. “Ms. Juliet, the plane is taking off in just over ten minutes. You see, there’s no way you’re boarding that plane today.” “So tell me, is this plane taking off or not?” He smiled smugly at me. I glanced at his name tag. “Wood, Supervisor Wood.” Hearing the plane was about to take off, I actually calmed down instead. I sat in a chair behind me, leaning against the backrest with my legs crossed. “I said this plane can’t take off. Even if it takes off, it will have to fly back for me.” “Officer, I sincerely advise you to confirm once more the name of the person you’re supposed to protect.” “And check what relationship this Ms. Anna has with Supervisor Wood here.” Sure enough, hearing this, Wood’s expression changed slightly. When I heard him tell the police that the last person to board was Anna, all the airport staff members’ faces changed, and their eyes all fell on Wood. The two of them were definitely connected. I also understood why I had been prevented from boarding. A supervisor wanted to pull strings for an acquaintance and thought he’d found a soft target. My sudden change in tone and relaxed state made the police officer waver slightly. But thinking of the urgent orders from above and their serious tone, he still had his team surround me. “Ma’am, you’ve now committed a criminal offense—obstructing flight safety. We will arrest you in accordance with the law.” Two officers lifted me from my chair, and silver handcuffs were fastened around my wrists. They planned to drag me out of the airport by force. A burst of more orderly, rapid footsteps approached from afar. “Holy crap, that team is even carrying guns!”

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I walked out of the examination room, clutching my “infertility” report. I saw my Alpha pinning another woman against a hospital bed, caressing her swollen belly. His child. That woman was his brother’s mate. He once said I was his only Luna in this lifetime. But the next second, he was choking me by the throat, forcing me to my knees to apologize. All for her sake. That’s when I finally understood: the cruelest betrayal isn’t a change of heart. It’s his gamble that I would never leave. The smell of disinfectant in the corridor stung my nose. But the cold report in my hand was even harder to bear. “Extremely low conception probability.” I, Amelia, Luna of the Ironclaw Pack, had been sentenced to death once again. To bear an heir for my husband, Alpha Leo, I had swallowed countless bitter medicines over the past three years. Enduring one painful attempt after another. I took a deep breath, stuffed the report into my bag, and prepared to leave. Just as I reached the VIP ward, I found the door slightly ajar. I caught Leo’s familiar scent of pine, but now it was tangled with another’s. A cloying rose fragrance that made my stomach turn. That was Grace’s scent. The mate of Leo’s late brother, and the former Luna of the Ironclaw Pack. I froze in place. Through the gap in the door, the scene before me made my blood run cold. Leo had Grace pinned against the hospital bed, his large hand possessively stroking her prominently swollen pregnant belly. He lowered his head, kissing her neck with fervor, drawing breathy moans from Grace. “Leo… be gentle.” Grace purred coquettishly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. I could clearly see the triumphant gleam in her eyes. “If Amelia saw us like this, she’d definitely be jealous. She’s still desperately hoping to conceive your heir. Aren’t you afraid she’ll cause trouble?” Leo let out a cold laugh, his tone dripping with contempt I’d never heard before. He nuzzled Grace’s neck with his nose. “She doesn’t need to know. And even if she did, so what? She’s a useless Luna. I’ve given her more than enough time. If she dares to cause problems for you and our pup, I can reject her anytime and make you my Luna, fair and square.” My heart felt as though an invisible claw had crushed it. My wolf cried out in anguish. This was the man who had once knelt before me, vowing to love me forever? I touched my flat abdomen, my heart aching. Images from these past months flooded my mind unbidden. All the humiliation. Back then, the Council of Elders had pressured me relentlessly, citing “the pack needs an heir.” And when Leo decided to hold a marking ceremony with Grace, he had held me tight, his eyes red. “Amelia, I only love you. Marking Grace is just to satisfy the Council of Elders, just to produce an heir for the pack. You’ll always be my only Luna.” I had believed him. From that point on, Leo frequently stayed overnight at Grace’s place, barely spending any time with me. Whenever Grace used the mind-link, he would drop everything and rush to her side. He even brought her to pack gatherings, as if Grace were his Luna. I had complained to him many times. But each time, he gave me the same excuse. Everything he did was to ensure Grace bore the pack’s heir quickly, nothing more. I kept telling myself he was just fulfilling his duty as an Alpha. I firmly believed our mate bond remained solid. Now, not only had he successfully gotten Grace pregnant, he was even ready to strip me of my Luna status at any moment. My grief receded, replaced by complete clarity. I, Amelia, was no one’s doormat. I pulled out my phone and dialed that familiar number. “Father.” I took a deep breath. My father’s low, authoritative voice came through. “My princess, you’ve finally contacted me. Has that idiot from the Ironclaw Pack been mistreating you?” “You were right. He doesn’t deserve my devotion. I want to break the mate bond with Leo.” I stared coldly at the two people still entangled in the hospital room. “Dad, I want to come home.” “Good. The Princess of the Silver Crescent Pack doesn’t need to waste time on trash. I’ll send our finest guards to bring you back.” I hung up the phone.

Leo soon followed the pack doctor to another office to review ultrasound images. Grace, using the excuse of needing the restroom, emerged from the ward. After they disappeared down the corridor, she walked straight up to me, her pitiful facade instantly vanishing. “Amelia, you don’t need to hide anymore. Did you enjoy the show?” Grace crossed her arms and looked down at me with the arrogance of a victor. I stared at her expressionlessly, saying nothing. My silence seemed to infuriate her. She suddenly snatched the follow-up report from my hand. “What a useless Luna!” Grace glanced at the report and laughed mockingly. “I knew it! An Omega like you, picked up by Leo from some rogue pack, doesn’t deserve to carry noble Alpha blood! You’ll never bear an heir in this lifetime!” She spoke while flaunting her pregnant belly with exaggerated caresses. “See this? This is Leo’s true offspring. Every night he whispers in my ear about how much he loves me, how much he’s looking forward to this pup’s birth. And you? You’re just a Luna in title only!” “Shut up.” I glared at her coldly, my wolf beginning to stir from her provocation. My claws itched to tear her apart. “What? Did I touch a nerve?” Grace’s mocking smile grew wider. “Amelia, if you know what’s good for you, get out of the Pack now. Stop clinging to the Luna position and embarrassing yourself. You barren-” Smack! I’d had enough. I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. The crisp sound echoed through the corridor. Grace’s head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly swelling red. “How dare you hit me, you lowly she-wolf?!” Grace shrieked. Then her eyes rolled cunningly, and she deliberately staggered backward, slamming herself against the wall behind her with a piercing scream. Blood immediately began flowing from her forehead. “Ah! My head… my belly… help!” Almost instantly, a powerful and violent Alpha pressure swept through the entire corridor. Leo charged over like an enraged beast, shoving me aside. His large hand clamped around my throat, slamming me hard against the wall. “Amelia! Have you lost your fucking mind?!” Leo’s eyes blazed red as he roared at me, his voice deafening. “You dared to hurt Grace and my pup?!” He choked me until I could barely breathe. My back slammed hard against the wall, the pain making me gasp. Grace lay on the floor, clutching her belly, crying pitifully. “Leo, don’t blame Amelia… I just told her about my pregnancy. I thought she’d be happy for you, but she probably thought of her own inability to conceive and lost control for a moment. I’m fine, as long as our pup is safe…” The more she spoke this way, the more Leo’s fury blazed. Before I could react, Leo grabbed my shoulder and hurled me against the wall. My spine hit the concrete floor hard, sharp pain radiating through my battered body. I gasped, tasting blood, my wolf whimpering from the impact. The Alpha command struck me like a hammer. “Kneel and apologize to Grace immediately! Otherwise, I’ll reject you in front of everyone today and strip you of your Luna status!” I looked up at him in shock, blood slowly trickling from my split lip. Before I could speak, Grace let out a pitiful whimper. “Leo, please don’t punish the Luna. It’s all my fault. As long as my pup survives, it doesn’t matter if she beats me to death to make herself feel better.” Tears streamed down her face. Leo’s face contorted with rage as he glared at me viciously. “Amelia, I command you to kneel and apologize to Grace,” he ordered. “Then you will beg her forgiveness for attacking her and my pup.” I struggled to breathe, looking at this man I’d loved for years, finding him utterly foreign and repulsive. “Leo…” I gritted my teeth, enduring the sharp pain in my neck, and said slowly. “I. Will. Never. Apologize.” Leo froze, apparently not expecting me, who had always been so submissive, to resist like this. Tears burst forth, streaming down my cheeks as my entire body trembled with rage and heartbreak. Seeing my tears, for a split second, remorse flashed across his face, and his tone softened slightly. “Amelia, listen… just do as I say. Apologize properly, and I’ll consider letting this go. As the pack’s Luna, how could you attack a pregnant she-wolf? You’ve tarnished the pack’s honor.” I wrenched myself free from his grip. “If you want to officially reject me, you can do it anytime.” I straightened my disheveled clothes, my eyes coldly sweeping over Grace and her fake fragility. Without another glance at them, I turned and strode out of the hospital.

“Leo, go after Amelia quickly.” She said breathlessly, her hand pressing the wound on her head. “Don’t worry, the pup and I will be fine… cough cough.” Her whimpering made him stop in his tracks immediately. “Stop talking. She’s not even pregnant. Right now, your and the pup’s safety is what matters most.” Leo’s voice was firm. With my enhanced wolf hearing, I heard every word he said. I returned to the Packhouse. Pushing open the master bedroom door, I found it empty and bone-chillingly cold. Since Leo held the marking ceremony with Grace, he’d spent nearly every night at her apartment. Grace, emboldened by Leo’s favor, had gradually encroached upon my Luna authority: she took over the she-wolves’ training, brazenly attended Council of Elders meetings, and even meddled in Pack affairs. On countless deep nights, while Leo mated with Grace, I endured the torment of our mate bond alone, curled up in bed by myself. Now, it was time to end all of this. I walked forward and tore down the photo of Leo and me from the Luna ceremony. I smashed it against the wall. The glass shattered. I didn’t want to leave any trace of my former foolishness, any trace of the love I’d wasted on him. I began throwing away everything related to the past: gifts he’d given me, our photos together, gifts we’d prepared for future pups. I stuffed them all into garbage bags, erasing these memories as if our years of marriage never happened. I pulled out my suitcase and started packing what I’d take with me, only to realize there was nothing worth taking. Finally, my gaze fell on the velvet box on the vanity. Inside lay a Luna ring, the one Leo had personally placed on my finger at the mating ball years ago, when we were declared mates. How bitterly ironic it seemed now. Just then, noisy footsteps sounded downstairs. “Careful, Grace, walk slowly.” Leo’s gentle voice rang out beyond the door. I went downstairs to see Leo helping Grace inside, her head wrapped in white bandages. Seeing me carrying a bag of trash, a flash of impatience crossed Leo’s eyes. “Amelia, pack your things and move to the guest room,” Leo commanded. “Grace was frightened by you at the hospital today. The doctor said she lost too much blood and feels dizzy. She needs me to care for her throughout the night. Give up the master bedroom and sleep in the guest room.” He wanted me to give up the master bedroom to his mistress?! “Care for her?” I laughed bitterly. “Then why don’t you stay at the pack hospital to care for her? Why the fuck are you bringing your mistress into our home?” “Watch your language, Amelia,” he said sternly. “I’m just making amends for your mistake. You put Grace in this condition. Whether you like it or not, Grace is staying in this house.” Grace’s voice came out weak. “I’m sorry, Luna Amelia. I didn’t mean to move in. I’m just worried about the pup…” She said this to twist the knife deeper. My wolf howled with rage. I looked Leo straight in the eye and said loudly, “This is my home, Leo. Make her leave.” Leo hesitated. Suddenly, Grace clutched her belly. “Leo, my stomach hurts a little,” she said softly. “Enough!” he roared. “You’ve never carried a pup, how could you understand Grace’s hardship? Move to the guest room first.” I stared at him, feeling the color drain from my face. “As you wish, Alpha Leo,” I said quietly, my voice dangerously low. Tonight would be my last night in this den. I turned and walked toward the door. “Leo, go check on Amelia quickly.” Grace’s false voice rang out behind me. But then came Leo’s disdainful snort: “Let her go! It’s just her playing hard to get. Don’t bother with her. Without me, she won’t last even a day! She’ll come crawling back and begging soon enough!” I didn’t look back.

I had just pushed open the Packhouse door when a piercing laugh came from upstairs. The sound came from the nursery I had originally prepared for our future pup. Rage instantly consumed me, my wolf growling furiously. That room held immense significance for me. Three years ago, Leo and I had carefully decorated it together, eagerly awaiting the birth of our pup. The pale moonlight-colored paint on the walls, we’d applied it. The exquisite oak crib in the corner, we’d chosen it together. Over these years, because of my weak body and inability to conceive an heir, that room had become my deepest wound. Whenever the darkness of night pressed down on me, I would come here alone to heal, seeking a shred of comfort among those soft little blankets. Now, he’d actually let Grace in there? Fury burned in my chest. I rushed up the stairs, through the corridor, and shoved the door open, only to find Grace sitting comfortably on the very crib I had carefully selected. “This room is wonderful, Leo,” she cooed softly, her hand stroking the bed rail, undisguised smugness in her eyes. “Our pup will be so blessed to have this place after birth.” I didn’t think twice before rushing in, ready to shove her away. But before I could get close, Leo strode forward and grabbed my wrist, pushing me away with force. “What’s wrong with you? You burst in here like a lunatic!” he barked, his brows furrowed. “You’re really going to give this room to her?” I stared at him, my voice hoarse and broken. “Have you forgotten what this room means to me? You promised me this room would only ever belong to our pup!” Leo snorted coldly, his tone dripping with arrogance and impatience. “Enough, Amelia! You’ve disappointed me all these years. You still haven’t gotten pregnant. This room sitting empty is just a waste. Better to let Grace use it. She’s carrying my pup now.” “So I’m supposed to just hand over my hope to someone else?” My heart was bleeding. “You’d better face reality and accept the current arrangement.” He threatened me coldly. “If you keep making unreasonable scenes like this, I’ll have to reconsider whether you’re still fit to hold the position of Luna of Ironclaw Pack.” Looking at that face I once loved so deeply, watching him treat me so cruelly for another she-wolf, I felt all our memories crumbling in an instant. His sweet words, those promises, they’d all become poisoned blades stabbing into my heart. I said nothing more, shook off his hand, and walked out of the room. In the end, I moved into the guest room. However, as a werewolf, my keen hearing became the cruelest torture device. I heard the rhythmic creaking of the wooden bed, accompanied by Grace’s sweet moans and Leo’s low grunts. “Leo…” Grace panted coquettishly, “Our child will definitely be the strongest Alpha. You’re amazing.” Leo’s voice was thick with lust and pride. “The one in your belly is the true heir of Ironclaw Pack.” “But Amelia… she’s still the Luna after all.” “Don’t mention her. It kills the mood.” Leo snorted coldly, his tone filled with undisguised contempt. “A Luna who can’t even bear a pup? And she still boils those foul-smelling herbs every day, really thinking I’d still have the appetite to touch her?” Hearing this, I was thunderstruck, frozen in place. Thinking back to how I’d traveled everywhere trying to conceive an heir, enduring agonizing pain… it turned out all of it had been my own self-deception! All his tenderness toward me, his patience, his guilt, all fake. I kept blaming myself for not being able to bear an heir for the pack, never knowing I was just a ridiculous stepping stone from the very beginning. I clenched my fists tight, nails digging deep into my palms, blood dripping through my fingers onto the floor, but I couldn’t feel any pain. Because the ache in my chest was already so intense I could barely breathe. But I didn’t cry.

After that nauseating night, Leo practically never left Grace’s side. As for me? From the moment I accepted the truth, I stopped holding any expectations for him. Several days passed. I was in my room organizing the last of my personal belongings when Grace’s affected voice drifted into my ears. “Leo…” Her voice was so fragile it seemed ready to shatter at a touch, carrying a restrained sob. “I felt some cramping in my belly again today. I’m so scared… scared I won’t be able to keep our pup.” “But the doctor said my body is too weak…” Grace sniffled, her tone full of pitiful grievance. “I heard that the Crescent Moon necklace around Amelia’s neck received the Moon Goddess’s deepest blessing at the altar. If I could borrow it for a while, it would surely bless our pup to be born safely. But… it’s her treasured possession after all, and she already resents me. Never mind, I don’t want you fighting with her because of me. I can endure more hardship myself, it doesn’t matter…” Hearing this roundabout manipulation made me want to vomit. That necklace was the symbol of Ironclaw Pack’s Lunas through the generations. At my Luna ceremony, Leo had placed it around my neck himself. On the surface, Grace was praying for the child’s well-being, but in reality, she wanted to brazenly strip away the last remnants of my dignity as Luna. “Don’t talk nonsense. You’re carrying my heir now. Nothing is more important than you and the pup.” Leo snorted coldly, completely disregarding his former vows. “I’ll get it from Amelia tonight. You should wear it, carrying my heir, you need the best protection.” If I’d heard these words a few days ago, they would have cut me like claws. But now, my heart was nothing but a dead wasteland. Before long, Leo pushed open my door. “Amelia…” He walked over and gently took my hand. “Grace’s health is a bit fragile. The pack witch said the Moon Goddess’s blessing on the Crescent Moon necklace can help her deliver safely. Could you… lend it to her? Just until the day she gives birth.” “Sure.” I agreed readily, my tone so calm it surprised even me. Leo froze, a flash of astonishment crossing his face. He clearly hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. He’d anticipated a major scene. “Leo,” I lowered my eyes, putting on an exhausted appearance. “I’ve been running around trying to conceive an heir all these years, and the doctor said my body has been severely damaged. I really don’t have the strength to bear Luna’s responsibilities anymore. So, I want to officially transfer Luna’s duties to Grace.” I walked to my desk and picked up a document I’d prepared long ago, handing it to him. “This is the responsibility transfer agreement. It needs your signature. Once you sign, the necklace is Grace’s.” Relief flooded his face, as if I’d solved all his problems. He tried to pull me into an embrace, but I dodged, not letting him touch me. Grace’s sticky scent still clung to him, making my wolf sick. “Thank you for being so reasonable,” he said, giving me the first genuine smile I’d seen in weeks. “After Grace gives birth to the pup, I’ll return the necklace. Your status as Luna will never change, Amelia.” He finished speaking and eagerly picked up the pen. He didn’t even look carefully. He signed his name without hesitation. The moment his signature dried on the paper, the mate bond connecting us in my mind began to tremble violently, but I bit down hard and didn’t even furrow my brow. I expressionlessly raised my hand and undid the clasp at my neck. “It’s just a necklace.” I handed it to Leo, my voice ice-cold. “Grace can keep it forever.” Leo took the necklace, triumph and eagerness flashing in his eyes. He didn’t even notice the finality in my tone, turning to rush off to Grace. Seconds later, I heard Grace’s delighted laughter. I stood in the empty room, gazing at the moonlight outside the window. Tomorrow, I would leave this place forever and never look back.

That night, Leo tried to approach me as usual, as if nothing had changed. But the moment he reached out, I instinctively pulled away. Ever since learning the truth, his scent mixed with Grace’s only made me nauseous. I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. Just then, I noticed Leo’s body suddenly tense. Grace was contacting him through the mind-link. I didn’t know what Grace said through the mind-link, but Leo bolted upright in bed. “I’m coming right now. Don’t move, don’t panic.” He whispered reassurances, and seeing I was asleep, hastily dressed and left the room. Some force compelled me to follow. I silently trailed behind him, finally stopping at the nursery door. The room I’d once decorated with such anticipation for my child. Grace was half-reclined against the crib, her nightgown clinging to her swollen belly. Leo rushed over and pulled her into his arms. “The pup’s kicking so hard,” she said softly. “It’s like he really misses you.” “I’m here now,” Leo murmured, his voice tender. “It’s okay, I’m with you.” Grace looked up, false tears brimming in her eyes. “I know I shouldn’t be selfish… you haven’t been with Amelia in so long. But…” Leo stroked her hair. “Don’t worry about Amelia. She’s already asleep.” “But if Amelia wakes up and finds you in the nursery with me…” “You’re carrying the pup. You’re what matters most.” He said firmly. I stood there, listening to him coax Grace in that gentle tone. Grace wrapped her arms around Leo’s neck, kissing him with urgent desire, pulling him closer. “We can be careful. It won’t hurt the pup.” He murmured against her lips. In an instant, they were lost in each other’s passion in that room I’d so carefully prepared. This was what he looked like when he truly loved someone. I stood outside the door, feeling my wolf roaring with fury at this ultimate betrayal, desperate to burst in and tear them apart. “Quiet,” I soothed my wolf softly. “They’re not worth it.” I numbly turned and walked back to the guest room. The mate severance agreement lay quietly on the bed, Leo’s scrawled signature at the bottom. He thought he was so clever, thinking this was me surrendering to him. He never imagined that by signing his name, he’d set me free. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the photo on the table. I picked up the frame and smashed it against the wall. The glass shattered into countless pieces. I didn’t sleep that night. Watching the time tick by, second by second. When dawn came, I would leave completely. He didn’t know yet what price he would pay.

At dawn, I’d already packed my bags and was carrying them downstairs. Right there in the hall, I witnessed a revolting scene. Grace, completely ignoring the strange looks from the pack guards and servants nearby, sat suggestively on Leo’s lap, giggling as she waited for Leo to feed her breakfast. Seeing me come downstairs, Grace pretended to be startled, scrambling off Leo’s lap like a frightened deer. I paid no attention to this sickening display, walking straight ahead with my luggage, ready to leave. “Stop!” Leo called out immediately. His gaze fell on my luggage, brows furrowed, voice sharp. “Amelia, what tantrum are you throwing this early in the morning? Where are you going with that luggage?” I had no intention of responding. Seeing I was leaving, Grace immediately put on an aggrieved expression. She picked up a glass of milk from the table and walked over, her tone full of false concern. “Amelia, don’t be angry. I noticed you haven’t had breakfast. Here, drink some milk first…” “Take it away.” I said coldly, casually pushing away the glass she offered. “Ah!” Grace screamed, deliberately falling backward dramatically and landing hard on the floor. “Leo, it hurts! Amelia, why did you push me!” She clutched her belly and cried out, tears instantly streaming down her face. “Amelia, I know you’ve always resented me, but I was just kindly offering you milk. Why did you deliberately push me!” Leo immediately flew into a rage. He first checked on Grace’s condition, his hands caressing her belly, whispering comfort. “I’m fine, Leo.” Grace sobbed. “Just a little frightened. But Leo, I’m so scared of what Amelia might do next.” Then he stood up and strode toward me. I tried to step back, but he grabbed my arm. “Didn’t I warn you?!” he roared, gripping my chin so hard it felt like he’d crush the bone. “Since you won’t drink it yourself, I’ll feed you personally!” He angrily grabbed the remaining milk and roughly forced my mouth open, pouring the milk directly down my throat. I choked violently, struggling desperately, but he threw me aside like trash. I lost my balance and my forehead slammed hard into the corner of a nearby table. Sharp pain struck, and warm blood instantly streamed down my forehead, blurring my vision. Suddenly, a tearing pain shot through my abdomen. “It hurts…” I clutched my belly, crying out for help. “My stomach hurts so much…” However, Leo only looked down at me coldly from above, not a trace of mercy in his eyes. “Amelia, you think you can fool me with this pathetic act?” he scolded harshly. “You just viciously attacked a mother carrying a pup, and now you’re playing pitiful? Let me tell you, your tricks don’t work on me!” Suddenly, Grace’s voice came from nearby. “Leo? I think my belly really hurts. Is it the pup…” He turned without hesitation and carefully lifted Grace from the floor into his arms. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll take you to the pack hospital right now.” He coaxed Grace in gentle tones, his voice full of concern. He personally carried Grace and strode out of the main house. Even now, with me lying on the ground covered in blood, struggling in pain, he didn’t spare me a single glance. This realization was more sobering than any physical pain. He would hurt me without mercy to protect Grace. Wave after wave of excruciating pain hit me. With trembling, bloodstained fingers, I pulled out my phone and dialed emergency services myself.

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After Ethan was rescued from the fire, he claimed he’d lost his memory. He remembered everyone but me. His own wife of five years. Completely forgotten. To keep his little assistant around, he called me a desperate, clingy lunatic in public. At first, I thought the injury had messed with his head. So I held back my pain and took care of him. Then I found out it was all an act. A disgusting lie to replace me with someone younger. Since he loved to act, I decided to play along. I’d pretend to lose my memory too. Right in front of him, I threw my arms around the most powerful heir without hesitation and called him “husband” in the sweetest voice. Today was my birthday. At ten o’clock at night, Ethan Grey still hadn’t come home. I called him, but his personal assistant Susan answered instead. On the other end, Ethan’s voice was muffled and indulgent. “Susan, stop fooling around.” I hung up in fury and sent him a text about divorce. One minute later, Ethan’s call came through. “Miranda Walsh, are you ever going to stop? I booked a hotel. I’ll celebrate your birthday there, okay?” Not wanting to ruin my birthday completely, I reluctantly took a cab to South Mountain. But halfway up the mountainside, the road ahead was completely blocked by police tape. South Mountain Restaurant had caught fire. The flames had turned half the sky red. I don’t know how I made it to the emergency building at City Hospital. The nurse’s station told me he was in a special care room on the third floor. I didn’t even wait for the elevator. I ran up the emergency stairs like a madwoman, losing a shoe along the way without bothering to pick it up. At the hospital room door, it was left slightly ajar. I pushed it open. Ethan was wearing a hospital gown with a white gauze bandage on his forehead, sitting safely against the headboard. And his arms were wrapped tightly around a completely uninjured woman. It was Susan, the assistant who’d been fooling around with him on the phone. Ethan was looking down at her, coaxing her in a gentle voice. “As long as I’m here, I’ll never let anything happen to you.” I froze in the doorway, my nails digging into my palms. Hearing the door open, Susan jumped out of his embrace like she’d been electrocuted. She turned around, looking at me with reddened eyes, though a barely perceptible flash of panic crossed her gaze. “Miranda…” Ethan’s eyes followed. The tender look from moments ago turned to ice the instant he saw me. He showed no guilt at being caught in an affair. He pulled Susan behind him, his defensive gaze sweeping over me from head to toe. “Who are you? Who gave you permission to barge into my hospital room?” I stood stunned, my breathing stopped for a beat. “Ethan, what kind of joke is this?” I forced down my trembling voice and took a step forward. “I’m Miranda Walsh! I’m your wife!” “Wife?” Ethan let out a cold laugh, his lips full of mockery. “Did you suffer some kind of shock that made you lose your mind?” Ethan’s eyes were ice cold, his ridicule merciless. “Even if my brain got burned by the fire, I would never marry you.” I stared at him in disbelief. “What?” Susan hid behind him and spoke timidly. “Mr. Grey, the doctor said you inhaled dense smoke that damaged your nerves, causing retrograde amnesia. Miranda… she really is your wife.” Ethan’s expression instantly darkened. He grasped Susan’s hand in return, his tone somewhat displeased. “Susan, you don’t need to speak up for her. The only person I’ve ever loved in my life is you. I’ve never been married!” He stared at me intensely, his eyes full of undisguised rejection. “Even if I did get married, who knows what methods she used to force me! Please leave immediately and stop disturbing us!”

“What methods did I use to force you?” I laughed bitterly, my whole body trembling as I raised my left hand. The diamond wedding ring on my ring finger stung my eyes. “Ethan, this is the matching ring you personally put on my finger five years ago when you knelt in front of the entire company and begged me to marry you! Our initials are even engraved inside!” I thought this ring he’d personally designed would awaken some sense of familiarity in him. But Ethan only glanced at it coldly. Then without hesitation, he removed the men’s ring from his own hand and casually tossed it into the trash can. “You bought a matching ring and think you can scam me?” Ethan’s eyes were full of disdain. I felt struck by lightning, frozen in place, even breathing felt like it was tearing at my lungs. Susan’s eyes reddened as she tugged at his sleeve. “Mr. Grey, Miranda looks so pitiful. What if she really is…” “Susan, you’re just too naive.” Ethan’s tone instantly turned tender. “Even if she produces a marriage certificate, it would be a fake.” He looked up at me again, his expression changing with chilling speed. “You’ve made Susan cry.” He pointed at the hospital room door. “Get out with your things! Don’t make me call security!” The door was urgently pushed open from outside. Lucas came in carrying several brain CT scan films. Seeing the tense atmosphere, he quickly stepped in front of me. “Miranda, Miranda, calm down! Didn’t I tell you outside just now that Ethan can’t handle stimulation right now?” “He threw away his wedding ring!” I said with reddened eyes, grabbing Lucas by the collar. “Lucas, you tell me what’s wrong with him? How could a perfectly fine person suddenly forget the past five years completely?” Lucas’s eyes darted around frantically, not daring to meet my gaze. He coughed twice and forcibly pried my hands away, half-pushing, half-dragging me toward the door. “The brain impact injured his hippocampus. This type of retrograde amnesia is rare medically, but it does exist. Ethan’s memory is stuck five years ago, right before he met you.” “What about Susan?” I gritted my teeth, pointing into the room. “He forgot everyone else, so why is he so devoted to a mere assistant?” Lucas swallowed, guiltily fabricating lies. “The fire was critical. Susan stayed by his side the whole time. It might be a psychological thing. He subconsciously sees Susan as a lifeline, even mistaking her for his first love.” “First love?” My tears finally fell. Lucas pushed me out of the hospital room and closed the door behind us. “Miranda, arguing with him now won’t help. He’s a patient. The more you push him, the more he’ll resent you.” “If you want him to recover his memory, you need to go along with him. Don’t try to stimulate him with things from the past anymore.” After saying this, Lucas left and returned to the doctor’s office. I stood alone in the corridor. Barefoot on one side, my dress hem covered in black soot from the fire rescue. Through the glass window in the door, I watched the man I’d loved for five years. He was holding a cup of warm water, carefully bringing it to Susan’s lips. Susan took a sip and smiled sweetly at him. Ethan’s eyes overflowed with adoration. I covered my face and slid down the cold wall to sit on the floor.

The day Ethan was discharged, I went to the hospital to pick him up. But the room was already empty. The nurse checked the bed records and told me, “Mr. Grey completed his discharge paperwork two hours ago. Miss Susan left with him.” I suppressed the bitterness in my heart and dialed Ethan’s number. It rang for a long time before connecting. “Ethan, why didn’t you tell me you were being discharged?” He didn’t say a word and hung up directly. When I called again, I’d been blocked. I stood in the hospital’s empty corridor like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. Even if he’d forgotten my status as his wife of five years, he shouldn’t be avoiding me like this, right? That evening, my phone suddenly vibrated. It was a message from Susan. When I opened the image, all the blood in my body instantly flowed backward, and my breathing stopped. In the photo was a large double bed. On the nightstand sat two half-finished glasses of red wine. Most jarring of all was a men’s white dress shirt casually draped over the foot of the bed, alongside a silk nightgown. That white shirt was the custom-made one I’d personally selected for Ethan during my business trip to Paris last month. The room’s décor was unmistakably from Ethan’s luxury apartment in the city center. Susan’s message came through, every word reeking of nauseating pretense. “Miranda, I’m truly sorry for disturbing you so late at night.” “Ethan… he’s very dependent on me right now. He insisted I move in to take care of him. The doctor said he can’t handle stress, so I couldn’t refuse.” “You must be heartbroken seeing this, but love can’t be forced. He only remembers me now and treats me so well he’d give his life for me.” “Miranda, for Ethan’s health, please do a good deed and let us be together. He told me that as long as you agree to divorce, he’ll give you satisfactory compensation.” Every word was like a knife stabbing into my heart. My hands shook with rage as I immediately clicked into Susan’s social media. Ten minutes ago, she’d posted something visible only to me. In the photo, she wore that oversized men’s shirt, clearly Ethan’s. She stood in the kitchen, turning to smile shyly at the camera. The caption read: “I’m still getting over being sick, and someone insists on making me a midnight snack. Being spoiled like this feels so good.” On his first day out of the hospital, he’d brought another woman into our home and even allowed his assistant to send me this disgusting provocation. I gripped my phone so tightly my nails dug into my flesh, blood seeping out without me even noticing. A massive sense of humiliation mixed with fury instantly consumed all my rationality. I grabbed my car keys from the coffee table and rushed out the door like a madwoman. Fifteen minutes later, I kicked open the password-protected door of the luxury apartment. The password for this place had originally been my birthday. He hadn’t even bothered to change it. The living room was brightly lit, the air thick with the pungent smell of alcohol. “Susan, you really understand me…” On the sofa, Ethan was pressing Susan beneath him, their posture intimate. “Ethan, Miranda just messaged me saying she…” Before Susan could finish, she caught sight of me out of the corner of her eye and screamed like she’d been electrocuted, shoving Ethan away and frantically grabbing a throw pillow to hold against her chest. Ethan, interrupted, turned around angrily. Seeing it was me, the tenderness in his eyes was instantly replaced by extreme disgust. “Miranda!” He shot to his feet. “Who gave you the nerve to break into my house?” “Your house?” I said with reddened eyes, glaring at him. “This is marital property! You brought some questionable woman here. Do you have any shame left?” I roughly pulled free from his grasp and raised my hand to slap the cowering Susan. But before my hand could land, Ethan intercepted it mid-air. “You dare touch her? Try it!” His eyes were cold to the extreme. He jerked his hand violently, and I lost my footing, my ankle twisting painfully as I fell to the floor. “Miranda, I’ll say this one last time.” Ethan straightened his disheveled collar, enunciating each word as a warning. “I don’t remember anything. Leave this place immediately. If you dare set foot here again, don’t blame me for being ruthless!”

Ethan threw me hard to the floor, my ankle throbbing with pain. Susan climbed off the sofa, wrapped in Ethan’s shirt, and ran over with red eyes to help me up. “Miranda, are you okay? Ethan didn’t mean it. He’s just sick and can’t control his emotions…” “Don’t touch me!” I violently shook off her hand. Looking at her pretentious face made my stomach churn. Ethan yanked Susan back into his arms, his eyes sinister and terrifying. “Get out! If I see you acting crazy again, I’ll sue you for trespassing!” I braced myself against the cold floor and stood up. Looking at this husband who, for the sake of another woman, wouldn’t even spare me a glance, I suddenly felt utterly pathetic. I didn’t argue anymore. I limped out that door. For the next few days, I felt like my soul had been drained. I suffered through sleepless nights. I kept telling myself, Ethan was just sick. He didn’t mean it. Once he recovered his memory, he would definitely love me like before. Just as I was about to break down completely, my mother’s call suddenly came through. As soon as I answered, her hysterical crying voice came through. “Miranda, save your brother! Jason was arrested by the police!” My head buzzed. “Mom, don’t panic. What happened to Jason?” My brother Jason had just started his senior year of college. Though he was usually a bit wild, he’d never caused trouble this serious. “He got into a fight tonight and cracked someone’s head open! The other family won’t let it go. They say they’ll make sure he rots in prison! Miranda, find a way to reach Ethan. He knows people. He can definitely get your brother out!” Hearing my mother’s tearful pleading, I broke out in a cold sweat. But Ethan wouldn’t even see me now. He’d even blocked me. How could he possibly help? “Ethan has been… sick recently. I can’t reach him. Let me go to the police station first to check the situation.” “What illness could be more serious than your brother going to prison! Miranda, Jason is your own brother. Even if you have to beg on your knees, get Ethan to help!” My mother’s words were desperate on the phone. “If you don’t save your brother, I’ll die right in front of you!” She hung up violently. I clutched my phone, anxious as an ant on a hot pan. The other family was causing a scene at the police station, absolutely refusing mediation. I had no options. With nowhere else to turn, I could only use another backup number to dial Ethan’s phone. This was, after all, the first time in our five years of marriage that I’d asked him for help. The phone rang for a long time. Just as I was about to hang up in despair, it finally connected. “Hello?” However, the person who answered wasn’t Ethan. It was Susan. Her voice was soft and sweet, with a trace of ambiguous hoarseness, accompanied by a series of soft, sticky sounds. “Susan, give me the phone…” Ethan’s low, husky voice came through the receiver, carrying the intimate indulgence I knew all too well. “Ethan, hurry up…” Susan complained coquettishly, followed by the sound of kissing and the violent shaking of a mattress. My brain went blank. All the blood in my body froze in that moment. The crisp sound of plastic packaging being torn echoed through the silent night, amplified clearly in my ear through the receiver. I abruptly hung up. A wave of physiological nausea surged up from my stomach. I covered my mouth and rushed into the bathroom like a madwoman. Hunched over the toilet, I nearly vomited up bile. The husband I’d loved for five years was currently rolling around in bed with another woman. He’d forgotten me. But he hadn’t forgotten how to flirt with other women. So his so-called amnesia was just a disgusting cover for his blatant affair! I sat paralyzed on the cold bathroom floor, my fingers gripping my phone turning white at the knuckles. I desperately scrolled through my contacts, trying to find someone who could help bail out my brother. Suddenly, my eyes fixed on a profile with a pure black avatar. The name displayed: Hunter Shaw. He was the biggest investor in Ethan’s company, supposedly the all-powerful, ruthlessly effective heir of the Shaw family. Five years ago, at Ethan’s annual party, I’d added him on social media. We’d never exchanged a single word since. I stared at that black avatar, bit my lip, and sent a message. “Mr. Shaw, sorry to disturb you so late. I’m Miranda. My brother got into trouble. Could I ask for your help?” As soon as I sent the message, I regretted it. How could someone like Hunter, a big shot so powerful that even Ethan had to bow and scrape before him, possibly bother with an insignificant woman like me? Just as I was about to retract the message, my phone screen suddenly lit up. Not only had Hunter not deleted me. He’d replied instantly. On the screen, just one word: “Address.”

Seeing those two words Hunter sent back, I froze for a long time before snapping out of it. I quickly sent him the police station location and my brother’s name. There was no further reply. I didn’t know why this top-tier mogul would agree to help me with such a small favor. But right now, I could only grasp at straws. In less than half an hour, my mother called again. “Miranda! Jason’s fine! The other family suddenly backed down. Not only are they dropping the charges, they even proactively paid for medical expenses! Did you get Ethan to help? I knew it. At critical moments, you still have to rely on your brother-in-law!” Hearing my mother’s grateful tone on the phone, I only felt it was deeply ironic. My husband was currently tumbling around in bed with another woman. And the person who truly pulled me out of the mire was a stranger I’d only met once. I suppressed the churning in my stomach and hung up on my mother. Opening the chat, I sent Hunter two words. “Thank you, Mr. Shaw.” He replied instantly again, but only with a question: “Just thank you?” I froze. A billionaire venture capitalist. After doing me a small favor, would he really joke around with a married woman like me in the middle of the night? I hesitated, then replied, “Can I take you to dinner?” After a long pause, he finally answered with one cold word: “Fine.” I didn’t know how to continue the conversation. Just as I was about to put down my phone, the screen suddenly lit up. It was an unfamiliar text message with no saved contact. No words. Just a video file. The moment I opened the video, my breathing hitched and my face turned pale. It was pinhole camera surveillance footage from a hotel room. The quality was crystal clear. In the video, Ethan was pressing Susan down hard on the sofa. That face that had always been refined and courteous toward me was now filled with lust and indulgence. Susan wrapped her arms around his neck, responding coquettishly. “Ethan, if Miranda finds out, will she be angry?” “Don’t mention her and ruin the mood.” Ethan let out a cold laugh, his tone utterly callous. “Facing her every day, I only feel suffocated. If it weren’t for the company shares, I would’ve divorced her long ago. Being with you is so much more relaxing…” My head went blank. I could barely stay standing. He’d acted so convincingly, all just to brazenly keep Susan by his side, to have an excuse to divorce me, even to take over the company we’d built together! I’d fed the best five years of my youth to a dog. I stared at the footage on my screen, waves of nausea surging up my throat. I didn’t cry. In the silent night, I only felt my hands and feet turn terrifyingly cold. I pressed the save button and forced down the discomfort in my heart to sleep. No matter what, life had to go on. … The next morning, I put on a little makeup to hide my puffy eyes and dark circles. I cooked his favorite dish and packed it in a thermos. Today was the day Ethan was scheduled to return to the hospital for a follow-up brain CT. I was going to the hospital. I wanted to watch him in person as he continued this nauseating performance. At the hospital, I headed straight for Lucas’s vice president’s office. Pushing open the ajar door, I was about to enter when I heard Ethan’s voice. “All right, she’s gone. You really put on a convincing performance with that amnesia act. Even Mr. Shaw was fooled?” Lucas’s teasing voice came through. I stopped in my tracks. Through the door crack, I saw Ethan sitting on the sofa, smoking. He blew out a smoke ring, his lips curving into an arrogant arc. “If I didn’t do this, how could I openly protect Susan and systematically strip Miranda of her power in the company?” “Aren’t you afraid Miranda will actually divorce you? You’ve been married five years.” Lucas chuckled. “Divorce? Would she dare?” Ethan scoffed dismissively. “Miranda is a blockhead who revolves her whole life around me. Being with her is like completing a task. I’ve been sick of it for ages. How could she compare to Susan, young, vibrant, understanding what I need?” “Taking advantage of this amnesia, I’m getting some novelty. Once I’ve had my fun, I’ll tell her I’ve recovered my memory. Won’t she still come crawling back gratefully?” I stood outside the door, the thermos in my hand burning like a hot iron. I didn’t burst in to tear off the mask. I took out my phone and recorded their entire conversation, word for word. Find me boring? Want some novelty? Fine, Ethan. Since you love playing the amnesia game, I’ll play along with you. But bigger.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “396129”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I am the true heiress of the Lynn family, lost for twenty years. On the day of the reunion, my older brother Ethan had tears in his eyes as he swore to give me the best things in this world. My fiancé Derek also promised he would never let anyone mistreat me again. He said he would marry me as soon as I turned twenty. But when the stage collapse happened, I watched helplessly as they both rushed past me toward someone else. Their eyes full of heartache, they picked up that girl. She had only scratched her skin. Hannah, the fake heiress with asthma, had stolen my place and enjoyed twenty years of my privileged life. I lay in a pool of blood, my right hand crushed beneath several hundred pounds of steel framework. Even the sound of my bones shattering was clearly audible. That was my right hand. The hand I had protected through beatings and abuse in the countryside. The hand I relied on to play the violin with my incredible talent. I thought they would turn back to look at me. But what I got instead was Ethan’s furious roar. “Aria, why did you deliberately push Hannah! If her asthma acts up, I won’t forgive you!” Derek stood beside him, disgustedly stomping on and breaking my violin strings. He looked at me with eyes as cold as ice. “You’ll do anything to compete for attention. It’s truly revolting.” The agony of being abandoned by my blood relative and my lover even surpassed the pain of my shattered bones. I watched them carefully protect Hannah as they ran out of the theater, not even calling an ambulance for me. When I woke up again, I had already been taken to the hospital by staff members. The emergency room doctor looked at the scan and delivered a cold verdict. “The nerves in your right hand are severed. Forget about playing the violin in the future. You won’t even be able to lift heavy objects.” My only pride and future in life had been destroyed by the combined efforts of the sister I saved, my biased brother, and my fiancé. I leaned against the hospital bed, pale as a ghost, unable to shed even a single tear. Suddenly, familiar footsteps came from outside the door. It was Ethan and Derek. They didn’t enter my room, but stood in the corridor negotiating with the doctor. “Call all the best specialists to Hannah’s room. She was frightened, and we absolutely cannot let her suffer any psychological trauma.” Derek’s voice carried undeniable concern. “What about Miss Aria Lynn next door? Her hand…” the doctor probed tentatively. “Don’t bother with her.” Ethan interrupted impatiently. “She’s tough as nails. A little injury won’t kill her. Let her stay in there and reflect on her actions.” Something in my head buzzed, and something shattered completely. From returning to the Lynn family until now, I had compromised myself for a whole year. Staying up late to work on proposals for Ethan, learning to cook Derek’s favorite dishes, yielding to Hannah at every turn, all just to beg for a little bit of family affection and love. But now I understood. When there’s no love, there’s no love. Even my ruined hand mattered less to them than Hannah being frightened. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just dragged my disabled right hand and calmly took out my phone. I opened the chat with my professor from the Vienna Royal Academy of Music. A few months ago, the professor had noticed my perfect pitch and compositional talent and invited me to study abroad, transferring to symphonic conducting. Because I couldn’t bear to leave Ethan and Derek, I had refused. But now, I had no reason left to stay. I typed out a line and sent it. “Professor, is that invitation still valid? I accept. I can leave next Monday.”

After spending one night in the hospital, I handled the discharge procedures alone. My right hand was wrapped in thick plaster, suspended from my neck with a sling. When I returned to the Lynn family villa, there was laughter and joy in the living room. Ethan and Derek were accompanying Hannah as she opened gifts, celebrating that despite the accident, she had still been awarded first place in the competition for her outstanding performance. At the sound of the door opening, the laughter stopped abruptly. Ethan turned his head, and seeing my hand hanging at my chest, his brow immediately furrowed. “Aria, you didn’t come home all night just to pull this victim act?” He strode over, his tone full of accusation. “The doctor said you only had superficial injuries. Why are you putting on a cast and pretending to be disabled?” Hannah also stood up from the sofa. Looking at my hand, her eyes immediately reddened, and she fearfully hid behind Derek. “Aria, I’m sorry… it’s all because of me. Are you still blaming me for taking your violin, so you deliberately hurt yourself to punish me?” Derek immediately shielded Hannah behind him, looking at me with eyes full of disgust. “Aria, Hannah couldn’t sleep all night from guilt. Now you come back deliberately wearing a cast just to make her feel more guilty, don’t you?” He coldly issued an order. “Put away that pitiful act. Don’t upset Hannah by being an eyesore in this house.” I looked at these two men who had once sworn to protect me, and surprisingly felt no ripples in my heart. Before, even if they just frowned slightly, I would anxiously review what I had done wrong. But now, knowing that my hand was truly ruined, I only found this scene ridiculously absurd. “Fine. I won’t be an eyesore to you anymore,” I said calmly, without a single word of rebuttal. They both froze. Perhaps accustomed to my usual aggrieved explanations and humble submissions, my sudden compliance made Derek’s eyes flash with bewilderment. But he quickly snorted coldly. “It’s best that you can see reason. Stop being so ungrateful all the time.” I walked around them, went straight upstairs, and returned to my room. There were six days until my flight. I didn’t have time to waste on them. I took out a black garbage bag and clumsily swept the things I had once treasured into it with one hand. A paint-chipped music box that Ethan had casually tossed to me, a hair clip Derek had bought me. I once thought these were proof of family affection and love. Now I saw them as nothing more than charity handed out to a beggar. The next morning. Unlike the past year when I would wake up an hour early to make stomach-soothing soup for Derek and iron Ethan’s suits, I did none of that. When I came downstairs carrying the garbage bag full of old belongings, I ran right into Ethan and Derek. Ethan looked at my empty hands and demanded harshly, “Aria, are you deliberately throwing a tantrum because of Hannah winning first place yesterday?” Derek also frowned, his tone extremely impatient. “Are you done with your tantrum yet? Do you have to force the whole family to revolve around you before you’re satisfied?” I walked to the door and calmly threw the garbage bag into the recycling bin outside. Then I turned back and looked at them. “I’m not throwing a tantrum. It’s just that my hand is ruined and I can’t do these things anymore. From now on, find someone else to do your things.” After speaking, I ignored their livid faces, pushed open the door, and walked out. I still needed to handle expedited visa procedures.

The next day I went to the visa center to expedite my visa processing. After that, I went to a pawn shop. Living abroad required money, but I didn’t want to take a single penny from the Lynn family. I only had two items in my bag. One was the diamond necklace Ethan had casually thrown to me on the day of our reunion. The other was the family heirloom jade pendant Derek had given me when he promised our engagement. I had just handed the necklace to the counter when Hannah’s surprised voice came from behind me. “Aria? What are you doing here selling things? Are you short on spending money?” I turned around to see Hannah intimately holding onto Derek’s arm as they walked in. They had come to select jewelry for Hannah’s celebration banquet in three days. Derek’s face darkened instantly when he saw the pawn ticket in my hand. “Aria, you deliberately came here to play the victim so outsiders will criticize the Lynn family for mistreating you?” He strode over and snatched the necklace from my hand, slamming it on the counter. “To make Hannah feel bad, you’ll even use such underhanded tactics!” Hannah bit her lower lip and pitifully shed tears. “Derek, don’t blame Aria. I must have spent too much. I’ll transfer all the money in my account to her right now…” “Don’t bother with her.” Derek coldly interrupted. His gaze swept over and landed on the jade pendant in my hand. His eyes tightened sharply, the disgust in them growing deeper. “What are you taking that jade pendant out for? Planning to threaten me with breaking off the engagement?” Derek sneered, his tone full of mockery. “Aria, aren’t you tired of playing this retreat-to-advance game? Hand over the jade pendant. You don’t deserve to hold anything from the Pierce family.” In the past, if I had heard him say I didn’t deserve it, I would have desperately explained that I didn’t mean that, then clutched the jade pendant tightly to prove how much I loved him. But now, I only felt relieved. Relieved that I could sever the last thread of connection with him so quickly. “Fine.” Without any hesitation, I threw the jade pendant I had once kept warm against my body onto the glass counter in front of him. The jade made a crisp, muffled sound. Without looking at Derek’s shocked, rigid expression, I took the money from pawning the necklace and walked straight out the door. When I returned to the Lynn family home, Ethan was already sitting on the living room sofa waiting for me. Clearly, Derek had already told him about the pawn shop incident. “Aria, you’re getting bolder and bolder.” Ethan suddenly smashed his teacup on the coffee table, pointing at my nose and cursing. “Are you only satisfied when you’ve turned this house upside down? Do you think selling a few pieces of jewelry will earn sympathy and cover up the fact that you pushed Hannah?” I quietly watched him rage without saying a word. “In three days, there will be a celebration banquet for Hannah’s championship. All the prominent people in River City will be there.” Seeing my wooden expression, Ethan’s tone became even more severe as he issued an ultimatum. “At that time, you must publicly apologize to Hannah at the banquet for your unreasonable behavior these past few days! Otherwise, get out of the Lynn family!” I raised my head and glanced at the calendar on the wall. Three days from now. That would be exactly the day I got my passport and flew to Vienna. I met Ethan’s furious gaze and calmly nodded. “Alright, I promise you. In three days, I will completely get out of the Lynn family.”

Since I had promised to leave completely in three days, I stopped clinging to anything and accelerated the pace of clearing out my room. The next day, while cleaning the bottom drawer of my nightstand, my left hand touched an old, yellowed box. Opening the box, a violin string that had been blackened and broken by fire lay quietly inside. Looking at this string, my thoughts briefly wandered. Ten years ago, there was a sensational serial kidnapping case. Ten-year-old Derek had been hidden by the kidnappers in an abandoned warehouse in the countryside. At that time, I had just been beaten by my adoptive mother and locked in the woodshed, separated from that warehouse by only a wall. I heard him crying out desperately in the darkness, terrified. Through the wall, I played lullabies for him all night on this violin. Later, the warehouse accidentally caught fire. I desperately broke through the wooden boards and used all my strength to drag him out of the flames. That broken string had fallen beside him at the time. And on the inner side of my right forearm, I had been left with a scar that could never be removed, from shielding him from falling burning debris. Later, when I returned to the Lynn family, Derek became my fiancé. But not only did he fail to recognize me, he actually treated Hannah, who had stolen the credit, as his savior and doted on her endlessly. I had wanted countless times to take out this string and tell him the truth, but every time, before I could speak, he would ruthlessly cut me off. “Aria, what are you dawdling about now?” The door was suddenly pushed open without courtesy, and Derek walked in with an impatient expression. I instinctively turned around. Because I moved too quickly, my loose sleeves slid down to my elbow, revealing the hideous, ugly burn scar on my right hand. Derek’s gaze fell on my wrist, and his steps suddenly halted. Immediately after, his brow furrowed tightly, unconcealed disgust rising in his eyes. “What’s that scar on your hand?” I froze, my heart seeming to be viciously squeezed by an invisible hand. “This is from ten years ago…” “Forget it, I’m not interested in hearing about your past!” Derek cut me off. “The Lynn family has given you so much money. Don’t you know to go to the hospital and have that scar removed?” “Tomorrow night at the celebration banquet, you’d better wear long sleeves. Don’t show up with that scar and embarrass both the Pierce and Lynn families!” Every word was like a poisoned knife, precisely stabbing into my heart. Not only had he forgotten me, but he also regarded the scar I got from saving him as a crude, filthy mark, thinking I would embarrass him. Hannah walked in from outside the door. She intimately took Derek’s arm, holding imported ointment in her hand. “Derek, Aria suffered in the countryside, so having scars is unavoidable.” Hannah put on a considerate appearance and held the ointment out to me. “Aria, this is scar removal cream Derek had someone airship from Switzerland. When I fell yesterday and accidentally scraped a little skin, Derek was so heartbroken he insisted on buying it for me.” “My superficial wound has already healed, so I’ll give you this ointment to use.” Looking at Hannah’s wrist, smooth as jade, then at the hideous scar on my own wrist. I suddenly felt utterly absurd. For a fraud with a scraped bit of skin, he could spend lavishly, his eyes full of distress. But for me, who had actually pulled him back from death’s door, he only felt disgusted and ashamed. Seeing that I wasn’t taking the ointment, Derek’s face showed even more annoyance. He snatched the ointment back from Hannah’s hand and said coldly, “Hannah, you’re just too kind. Using this ointment on her would be a complete waste.” He looked at me with harsh eyes. “Why waste good things on her.” In that instant, I felt all the blood in my body turn cold. The Aria who used to hide under the covers and cry all night just because he ignored her completely died in this moment. I didn’t cry, nor did I justify myself aggrievedly like before. I picked up the charred violin string from the desk. Right in front of Derek, I casually threw the string I had treasured for ten years into the nearby trash can. Seeing my action, Derek’s frown deepened. “What are you going crazy about now?” I raised my head, looked at that face I had once deeply loved, and pulled my lips into an extremely faint smile. “Don’t worry. Tomorrow I absolutely won’t expose this scar to be an eyesore to you.” Never again.

Not long after Derek left with Hannah, Ethan walked in. The family had been busy with Hannah’s celebration banquet these past few days, and the servants, reading the room, hadn’t come to clean my room for several days. His gaze swept around my room, his eyes full of impatience. “Hannah won the championship this time, and Mom, Dad, and Derek all gave her lots of haute couture dresses. Her closet is completely full now.” Ethan strode to the door connecting to my bedroom and pointed at the small study next door that originally belonged to me. “Clear out all that junk in your study and make room for Hannah to use it as a fitting room.” Hearing this, my hands, which had been folding clothes, suddenly froze. In that small study were music scores I had spent countless days and nights over the past year hunched over my desk writing, stroke by stroke. I still remembered when I first returned to the Lynn family. Ethan saw me crouched at the coffee table in my bedroom struggling to write compositions, and with reddened eyes, he touched my head and promised me. “Aria, it’s my fault as your brother for letting you suffer so much outside. From now on, this room will be your dedicated music room. I’ll have the best music desk custom-made for you so you never have to compromise yourself again.” But now, the music room he had personally promised me was being casually taken back just because Hannah’s dresses wouldn’t fit elsewhere. Seeing me standing there silently, Ethan’s face immediately darkened. “You’re not willing?” He walked to the desk, casually flipped through a stack of scores I had placed on top, then threw them back on the desk with a face full of mockery. The papers scattered all over the floor. “That hand of yours is already ruined. You can’t even hold a water glass steady. So what’s the point of keeping this waste paper? To look at it every day and feel sorry for yourself? Or to remind everyone how much you’ve suffered?” “Aria, hurry up and clear the space for Hannah. Don’t force me to call the servants in to throw things out for you!” Every word was like a rusty, dull knife, cutting the last remnants of my family affection into bloody pieces. “Fine, I’ll clear it now.” I looked at him calmly, my voice showing no trace of emotion. Anyway, I was about to leave for Vienna soon. I didn’t need to take a single one of these scores with me. Ethan clearly hadn’t expected me to agree so readily. He looked me up and down suspiciously, as if trying to determine what scheme I was playing this time. But he was too busy to investigate further. “Good that you know your place. It must be cleared by dark.” After dropping this cold warning, he turned and strode away, rushing to arrange the evening celebration banquet schedule for Hannah. After he left, I found some garbage bags. I swept the music scores from the study into the trash can, handful by handful. There were also those ill-fitting dresses that Ethan had casually bought for me as compensation when we first reunited. And on the vanity, the only family photo I had carefully printed out, which they disliked because my expression was too wooden. For two solid hours, I cleared away every trace of my existence until it was spotless. Looking at the corner piled with garbage bags and the room that seemed as if no one had ever lived there. My heart collapsed along with everything else. After clearing everything, I walked to the desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. A document lay quietly inside. It was the share transfer agreement that the Lynn parents had publicly signed on my first day back home to demonstrate their compensation to me. I took out the document and spread it flat on the desk. In the section for renouncing inheritance rights, I signed my name. After signing, I took out a blank sheet of A4 paper and carefully wrote out a “Declaration of Severance of Family Relations.” “I, Aria Lynn, voluntarily renounce all property and status in the Lynn family. From this day forward, I sever all blood and family relations with Ethan Lynn and all members of the Lynn family. In life and death, we shall never meet again.” I carefully folded these two signed documents. Then, from my backpack, I took out the medical diagnosis from yesterday. “Right hand permanently disabled, irreparable.” I put these three sheets of paper together in a manila envelope. After sealing it, I placed the envelope squarely in the center of the desk. After finishing all this, I glanced at the time on my phone. There were still twenty-four hours until tomorrow night’s celebration banquet, until I completely left this city.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “396130”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

In my third year as a blind massage therapist, my ex-husband Damien Hunt brought his employees to my shop. When he saw me, he remained perfectly calm. I served him just like any other customer. Until his phone rang. The ringtone was a song I had once sung. I froze for a moment. His colleague teased him: “I never would’ve guessed Mr. Hunt was into this girly pop music.” Damien smiled as he explained: “My ex-wife recorded it when she was younger.” Just as he was about to leave, Damien suddenly turned back: “Chloe, I’ve never forgotten you. Are you sure you want to keep raising my child and continue living like this?” After a long silence, Damien let out a sigh. “Chloe, look at all those calluses on your hands. Can you really raise a child properly?” “Just apologize to Sydney, and I can take you both home right now to live comfortably.” I didn’t move, just calmly took out my phone. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Hunt. Just leave us a good review.” Damien didn’t move. His fingertips drummed on the table. His voice grew heavier. “Chloe, you’ve already lost your sight. What good does this do you?” I blinked my sightless eyes and was about to speak. Damien’s phone rang. Two young voices came through the speaker. “Daddy, I miss you. When are you coming home? Mommy has a fever.” “Yeah, Mommy feels so bad today her eyes are all red. Come home and be with us.” Damien softened his voice, coaxing them gently. “Daddy misses you too.” “Take good care of Mommy at home. I’ll be right there.” After hanging up, I could sense Damien’s hesitation. His voice was hoarse. “Chloe, I…” I smiled and deliberately moved aside to let him pass. “Have a good evening, sir.” After a long moment, I finally heard his footsteps leaving. But at the door, he paused again. “Chloe, I remember you weren’t like this before.” Before? I touched the corner of my eye, as if the pain still lingered there. Before, I had cried and made scenes, tried to use the baby to keep him, but it never made him turn back. In the end, the baby was gone, my eyes were ruined, and all I got was him saying I deserved it. Only after confirming he had left did I return to the massage room. A colleague came over and nudged me. “You two know each other? That’s Mr. Hunt himself.” I shook my head. “Not really.” Another colleague laughed as she approached. “What do you mean ‘not really’? He just bought an annual membership with you. Chloe, you won’t have to worry about meeting your targets all year.” “Mr. Hunt is so handsome, and he’s the kind of good man you can’t find even with a lantern.” “If I were his ex-wife, I definitely wouldn’t have fought with him.” I found it ironic but didn’t respond. My colleague became more enthusiastic. “I’m serious. A man who was willing to drop a hundred million for her—what more could she want?” “I heard he’s still single. That’s true devotion.” I was silent for a while before I couldn’t help speaking up. “Devotion?” “Cheating during marriage and having twin illegitimate children—that’s devotion?” “A hundred-million-dollar mansion with his mistress living in it—that’s devotion?” “His wife of ten years not even having ten dollars to buy ice cream at the end—that’s devotion?” My colleague gasped. “These things… how do you know?” I lowered my head with a bitter smile and pulled out an old photo of myself to show them. “Were my eyes beautiful?” My colleagues nodded. “Back then, yes. Very beautiful.” I pointed at the corner of my eye. “Damien Hunt destroyed my eyes. Do you still think he’s a good person?” They gasped in shock. I ignored them and calmly continued working. That evening after work, I took my white cane. I bought many flowers and toys and went to the cemetery. I arranged everything in front of the gravestone. “Baby, are you doing well in heaven?” I touched the cold stone. “I ran into your father today. He mentioned you. Too bad he’ll never get to see you in this lifetime.”

Early the next morning, I received a call from the shop even though I had requested the day off. Damien was throwing a fit. When I arrived, his voice was low and threatening. “If you can’t get Chloe here, I don’t mind putting you all out of work.” I paused at the door, then pushed it open. “Don’t make things difficult for them. I’m here.” He spoke coldly. “Come here. You’re coming with me.” I didn’t move. “I’m not going to say it twice.” A smile curved my lips. “What if I refuse?” “This time, what else do you want to take from me?” Damien’s breathing quickened. He crushed the glass in his hand. I knew he could no longer keep up the act. Damien and I were childhood friends. When I was ten and my parents died in an accident, I moved into the Hunt family home. Back then, all I did was cry. Damien, two years older, reached out his hand to me. That hand held mine for ten years. His friends changed girlfriends constantly, but I was always by his side. On my twentieth birthday, he dragged me to the civil affairs bureau first thing in the morning. I teased him for being like an eager puppy waiting for food. He tucked the marriage certificate against his chest. “I’ve waited ten years. Can’t let someone else steal you away.” “A wife should be kept close early.” At the wedding, I lifted my dress and turned around. Damien was already crying. He held me, sobbing as he made his vow. “My wife, you’re the only one for me. Forever.” After marriage, I loved spicy food, so he went to learn how to cook it. I liked walking barefoot, so he carpeted the floors and walked with me. Every morning when I woke up, I didn’t even have to squeeze my own toothpaste. Those days, I felt like I was soaking in honey. Until he spent a month away from home for work. Worried about him, I brought him soup. I pushed open the door. His collar was half-open, a girl sitting on his lap. A cigarette burned between her fingers as she brazenly kissed his lips. I froze completely. “Damien Hunt, what are you doing?” He snapped to attention and stood up, taking the soup from me. “Chloe, what are you doing here?” My voice trembled as I pointed at the girl. “Who is she?” “Just a buddy.” He came over to take my hand. I jerked away. “What kind of buddy do you need to personally kiss on the lips?” The girl laughed and approached. “This must be Chloe? I’m Sydney Reed, just friends with Damien. Don’t take it the wrong way.” “Chloe, you’re so pretty. If I were him, I couldn’t resist marrying you early either.” She pinched my chin. I frowned and pushed her away. Sydney covered her mouth and laughed. “Chloe, I just thought you were beautiful. Couldn’t help myself.” “I’m into girls. You don’t need to worry about me and Damien.” She pulled up photos of her “girlfriend” on her phone. I looked at Damien with doubt. “Is she telling the truth?” Damien smiled and pulled me into his arms. “Of course it’s true. I’ve known her for years. If there was something between us, would I have married you?” “What just happened was an accident. Don’t overthink it.” I looked between them and softened, choosing to believe him. From then on, I kept seeing Sydney shoulder-to-shoulder with Damien. Sydney would walk around naked in front of him. I couldn’t help frowning and reminding him, but he didn’t care at all. “Just a buddy. Why make such a big deal? Just think of her as a guy.” “Besides, even her girlfriend isn’t complaining. What are you angry about?” Seeing how unconcerned he was, I even started thinking I was overreacting. Sydney often brought me gifts, calling me Chloe affectionately. I convinced myself not to be so petty. So I stupidly treated Sydney as a good friend. I’d cook extra portions for her, think of her when buying things. On her birthday, I even made her a cake myself. Until mine and Damien’s first wedding anniversary. He’d been busy abroad negotiating contracts. I specially bought lingerie and prepared gifts for him. I found his friend, eyes bright, wanting to surprise him. But when I looked up, I saw his friend looking at me awkwardly. “Chloe, maybe you shouldn’t go.” “What do you mean?” My smile froze on my face. He took a deep breath and looked away. “Chloe, he’s been in LA the whole time. With Sydney.” I got the address and rushed over. A magnificent palace stood before me. The one he had once built to make me happy. I walked closer, trembling, my legs shaking uncontrollably. Through the crack in the door, Sydney’s belly was slightly swollen. He gently rubbed her stomach. “Our son’s really active. Give him another kick.” “He’s so restless. You must be exhausted.” “When he grows up, I’ll transfer the company to him.” I gripped the door, my nails drawing blood. I remembered this past year when I said I wanted a child. He always said “no rush, no rush.” Turns out he already had one. I shoved the door open.

“Damien Hunt, is this what you call ‘busy’?” My throat felt like it was filled with blood. “What are you doing here?” Damien instinctively stepped in front of Sydney, as if I were some kind of monster. I laughed coldly. “I should be asking you that.” He frowned, his tone tinged with impatience. “Sydney got her heart broken. She said she wanted to experience being a mother. I was just trying to help her.” “Help her?” My voice nearly cracked. “Damien Hunt, where exactly do you put me?” Sydney walked over and glared at Damien. “Damien, how can you talk to Chloe like that?” She grabbed my hand. “Chloe, I just wanted a child. We’re all close, so I borrowed Damien’s seed.” “You don’t mind, right?” “Damien and I have always just been bros. Don’t worry, we didn’t cross any lines.” I laughed coldly and shook her off, trembling with rage. Right. No lines crossed. They just slept together. “Damien Hunt, let’s get divorced.” I turned around and closed my eyes. Without waiting for his answer, I went home and started packing. Halfway through, Damien came back. He grabbed my hands. “After all these years, you’re sure you want to throw it all away?” “You’ve never worked. How will you survive out there?” “That’s none of your business.” I shook him off. He suddenly pulled me into his arms, wiping my tears. “Honey, I was wrong. It’s my fault.” “For the sake of all these years, don’t divorce me, okay?” “Then make her get an abortion and send her away!” “Okay.” He paused, then agreed. I gripped his collar tightly. “I want you to have a child with me. Now. Right now.” He looked at me for a long time before finally agreeing. “Okay.” I kept him home, day and night. Endless supplements, countless remedies. Finally, three months later, I got pregnant. Damien finally breathed a sigh of relief, like he’d completed a task. But when he looked at this child, there was none of the adoration and joy I’d imagined. He wasn’t exactly bad to me. He still accompanied me to checkups, bought me supplements on time. Even when I cried at night, he’d hand me tissues and warm water. But I could tell he was just going through the motions mechanically. His body was here, but his mind was always elsewhere. Until I was five months pregnant, he started going out frequently again. Not answering calls. One afternoon, he snuck out while I was sleeping. I followed him to the old mansion. Sydney’s belly was huge, wearing his shirt, leaning on the sofa eating ice cream. But these past days, Damien never let me touch his shirts. Now, he gently took away her ice cream. Massaging her legs. “Only two bites. I haven’t been able to be with you these past days. You’ve had it tough.” I pushed the door open hard, my lips and teeth trembling uncontrollably. “You said you’d make her get an abortion. Damien Hunt, you lied to me?” Seeing me, Damien’s veins bulged. He finally exploded. “Chloe Miller, will you ever stop?” “You said you wanted me around, I’m around. You said you wanted a child, I gave you one.” “Sydney’s carrying twins and she’s far along. Do you know how much it hurts me to watch her on the surveillance cameras?” “They’re both my children. Do you really have to be so intolerant?” “But you promised me!” I clenched my fists tightly. Sydney smirked and deliberately rubbed her belly. “Chloe, these two kids have outgrown their clothes. Damien’s shirts fit just right.” “The doctor even praised me for being amazing, pregnant with two at once. Though I think I could still do cartwheels.” “It’s just Damien being overprotective. Won’t let me ride motorcycles or watch horror movies.” “But I’m not some delicate little princess. I’ve got plenty of energy.” I finally couldn’t hold back. I grabbed a vase and hurled it at her. “You’re disgusting!” “Sydney, watch out!” Damien suddenly blocked it. He glared at me viciously. “How can you be so malicious!” “Don’t you know she’s carrying twins!” “Chloe Miller, I’ve taken care of you for so many years. If you can’t handle this, then get out.” Nausea roiled in my stomach. I wiped my mouth. “Fine. I’ll get out!” I felt completely drained. I turned and left. I knocked on my best friend’s door. Crying, I told her what happened. But she just kept frowning. “Chloe, I hate to say this, but you’re being really unreasonable.” “Sydney’s a good person. She just asked Damien to father a child. Did you really need to react like this?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “What are you saying?” “You’re so cruel. Actually trying to make Sydney get an abortion. That’s a life too.” “Sydney hasn’t fought with you over anything since you got pregnant. You’re making way too big a deal out of this.” She continued selecting items. “What do you think I should give Sydney as a gift when she has the babies?” Something like congealed blood stuck in my throat. I couldn’t spit it out, couldn’t swallow it down. Even my best friend of many years was on Sydney’s side.

I left my friend’s place. Standing on the street, I realized I had nowhere to go. Out of spite, I went to the store to buy ice cream, only to discover I didn’t even have ten dollars in my account. I sat in the park near our home. From nightfall until dawn. The baby was moving. I silently returned home. Damien grabbed me, looking me over carefully. “Where did you run off to?” “I looked for you all night.” “Your tantrum is hurting the baby too.” I didn’t look at him, just held out my hand. “Phone.” He hesitated a moment before giving it to me. I entered the password. My birthday. Wrong. Our anniversary. Still wrong. He pressed his lips together. “0225.” Sydney’s birthday. My fingertips paused. I unlocked it and transferred five thousand dollars to myself. Damien’s pupils dilated. He handed me a card. “No limit. Buy whatever you want.” “Chloe, don’t run away from home again.” I held the card, its sharp edges cutting painfully into my palm. He reached out to hug me, but I dodged. I turned and went back to the bedroom. I just stayed there quietly, barely asking about him and Sydney anymore. Watching the baby grow bigger, I only looked forward to the birth. One afternoon, Sydney came to find me. She was still wearing Damien’s shirt, a smug smile on her face. “Chloe, you don’t know yet, do you? Damien said when the babies are born, he’ll come take care of me properly.” “I just mentioned being tired and he felt so bad. I heard you vomited until you brought up bile and he didn’t say anything?” “How can Damien be like this? If it were me, I couldn’t bear to let a girl suffer.” I was about to turn around when I heard her scream as she tumbled down the stairs. “Chloe, I really just came to keep you company.” “Even if you don’t trust our friendship, you shouldn’t hurt the babies.” “Sydney!” The next second, Damien’s burning slap landed on my face as he bent down to pick up Sydney. “Chloe Miller, you truly disappoint me.” I watched his desperate retreating figure and wiped the blood from my split lip. I smiled bitterly. The numbness on my face took a while to fade. That evening, he came in with a dark expression, grabbing my hand. “You hurt Sydney so badly she went into early labor. She’s lost her sight. Do you know that!” “Since you’re so cruel, you’ll compensate her with yours!” “I didn’t! She fell on her own!” I shook my head frantically. “Still lying! She’s pure-hearted, she doesn’t have all these twisted schemes.” He dragged me toward the door. I lost my temper and fell to my knees, begging him. “Damien, please don’t do this. I’m pregnant. I can’t go.” “Please just wait until the baby is born, okay?” “Just wait a few more months.” I cried until my whole body shook. He laughed coldly. “Wait? What about Sydney? Can she wait?” “The baby? You’re this malicious—do you even deserve to have my child?” Regardless of my condition, he sent me to the operating room. I watched them approach with surgical instruments. I sobbed helplessly. The corner of my eye was brutally torn away, leaving trails of bloody tears. He used to smile and kiss my eyes gently. Said my eyes were bright and beautiful. After it was over, he had me sent to a nursing home. Afraid I’d affect Sydney’s postpartum recovery. I was locked inside. Cold and damp. He never came to see me once. On the day I gave birth, I used every ounce of strength I had. It took a full day. The baby came out, but had long since stopped breathing. I held her tiny body and stumbled out of the nursing home. But that day, everything under Hunt Corporation was free. Because it was Sydney’s twins’ 100-day celebration. He organized a grand event to accumulate blessings for the children. Thanks to her, I got a free swaddle from a baby store. So I could wrap my tiny, lifeless daughter. “Chloe, I just want you and the child to come home with me and live well.” Damien’s hoarse voice pulled me back from my thoughts. I smiled slightly. “The child?” Damien continued speaking. “The nursing home told me it was a girl. She’s three now, right? I already picked out a name for her. Aria. How about that? She should come home eventually.” “Didn’t they tell you that baby was stillborn?” I interrupted him. Damien’s voice suddenly dropped, tinged with anger. “Chloe Miller, even if you hate me, you can hit me, yell at me, whatever. Don’t use the child to take out your anger.” “I’ve prepared a room for her all these years. Just waiting for you both to come home.” I didn’t respond. It all seemed pointless. I picked up my white cane and went home. He followed closely. “Chloe Miller, didn’t you hear what I said? Don’t use the child to—” I pushed open the door. He rushed over and grabbed the yellowed death certificate on the table.

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I arrived at the wedding venue in my wedding dress to find an octagonal fighting ring set up in the center of the stage. My fiancé Holt pulled his childhood friend Chelsea over and handed me a pair of boxing gloves with a smile. “Lynette, this is a tradition from back home. The bride has to wrestle with the groomsmen in the ring—it’s for good luck. I specifically asked Chelsea to go up with you. Just go through the motions.” Looking at Chelsea, who always seemed so fragile and sickly, I didn’t think twice and stepped into the ring. But the next second, her expertly executed roundhouse kick knocked me out cold with a severe concussion. When I woke up, I was paralyzed in a hospital bed. Holt held Chelsea’s hand as he said to me: “The guests already sent so many wedding gifts. The wedding can’t be without a bride. Chelsea is willing to take care of me in your place. You’re so kind—I’m sure you won’t mind, right?” Tormented by extreme humiliation and severe depression, I wheeled myself to the rooftop of the wedding suite and threw myself off. When I opened my eyes again, I was back one month before the wedding. I turned around and knocked on the door of the national Sanda champion training facility. “Coach, if I train for one month, can I punch someone’s head off?”

The coach looked me up and down, his gaze lingering for three seconds on my skinny arms and legs. He snorted with laughter. “Punch someone’s head off? With that tiny frame of yours, one slap would send you flying.” I didn’t say a word. I just pulled out a stack of cash from my bag and slapped it on the table. Fifty thousand dollars. My savings from two years of secret stashing. The coach contemptuously pushed the money back. “I don’t need this pocket change.” But when I rolled up my sleeve to show him the bruises from when Holt had drunkenly beaten me, the coach simply picked up the liability waiver on his desk and pushed it toward me. “Sign this. The facility takes no responsibility for any accidents during training.” “Including but not limited to fractures, concussions, and internal bleeding!” I grabbed the pen and quickly signed my name. The coach put away the agreement, and the smirk on his face instantly vanished. “Alright, starting today, I’ll train you at the intensity of a professional Sanda athlete before retirement.” “I don’t know if you’ll be able to punch someone’s head off after a month, but you’ll definitely want to punch your own head off after I’m done with you.” On the first day, my sparring partner threw me forty-seven times. Every time my back slammed into the mat, scenes from my past life flashed before my eyes. Chelsea’s roundhouse kick had knocked me unconscious. When I woke up, I was paralyzed in a hospital bed, tubes running through my entire body. Holt stood at the foot of the bed holding Chelsea’s hand, a troubled expression on his face. “Lynette, the guests sent so many gifts. The wedding can’t be without a bride. Chelsea is willing to take care of me in your place. You’re so kind—I’m sure you won’t mind, right?” Would I not mind? He got a marriage license with Chelsea on the third day of my paralysis. Using my money, living in my house. Everyone praised Holt for being loyal and devoted, praised Chelsea for being kind and virtuous. Not a single person asked whether a bride who’d been kicked into a severe concussion and paralyzed from the waist down could even survive. Thinking of this, I climbed up from the mat and waved at my sparring partner. “Again.” The sparring partner glanced at the coach. The coach nodded. “Go.” That night I lay on the hard bed in the facility dorm, covered in bruises. My phone screen lit up. Holt sent me a message on SnapChat. “Lynette, just finished working overtime and eating. I’m keeping an eye on everything with the wedding planner. You just relax and wait to be the most beautiful bride.” I stared at the words “working overtime,” then swiped to open Ins. Chelsea had posted three minutes ago. A selfie in a wedding dress. In the background, draped over the arm of a sofa, was a deep blue Hermès tie—the birthday gift I’d given Holt last month. The caption was just one line: “Only the favored one gets the privilege of trying on dresses.” I gripped my phone and opened SnapChat, sending Holt a voice message. “Honey, you’ve worked so hard. I’m leaving everything with the wedding planner to you. I have complete faith in you.” Then I typed. “By the way, honey, I found this limited edition haute couture wedding dress. There are only three in the world. The deposit is two hundred thousand. What do you think?” “Isn’t that a bit expensive? A regular wedding dress would look just as good.” “But I’m only getting married once in my life. And didn’t you say you’d give me the most spectacular wedding in the city?” Silence on the other end for nearly two minutes. Finally, one word came back: “Fine.” The corner of my mouth twitched. I turned off my phone and rolled over to face the wall. This wedding dress was a trendy short style—perfect for throwing punches! Holt, oh Holt. In my last life, you took my money, my house, and tried to take my life. This time, I’ll drain you dry first.

During the day at the office, I discussed wedding dress styles with colleagues and tasted wedding cake samples, playing the happy bride to perfection. After work, I dove straight into the gym. I’d put on my protective gear, strap on my gloves, and the mouth that had just been texting “honey” would be gritting its teeth counting reps as I pounded the punching bag. The coach designed a special training regimen for me focused on defending against and countering roundhouse kicks. “You said your opponent specializes in roundhouse kicks?” “Yes.” “What level?” “Underground fight club sparring partner.” The coach frowned. “People from underground fight clubs have dirty leg techniques. They don’t follow proper form—they kick straight for vital points.” He pulled up footage from an underground fight to show me. “See that? They make a small hip movement before they kick. Very fast, less than 0.3 seconds.” “What you need to do is dodge sideways to deflect the force within those 0.3 seconds, then close in for infighting.” I nodded and practiced over and over. When I backed a six-foot-tall muscular guy into a corner, he instinctively protected his groin. The coach cursed him for being useless, but I saw the slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. That evening, my best friend Sophie came to pick me up from the gym. When she saw the black and blue marks all over my arms, her eyes immediately welled up. “Lynette, have you lost your mind? Why are you torturing yourself like this?” I took off my protective gear and twisted open a bottle of water, downing a couple of gulps. “Look at what I investigated.” I handed her my phone. On the screen were screenshots of transaction records sent by a private investigator. Holt’s online loans: eighty-three thousand dollars. Sixty-two thousand of it spent on a Cartier bracelet. Recipient: Chelsea. Sophie’s eyes went wide. “That bastard took out loans to buy Cartier for that woman? What has he ever bought you? For your birthday, a nine-dollar bouquet of baby’s breath with free shipping! Call off the wedding, Lynette! Don’t marry him!” I shook my head and took back my phone. “That’s exactly why I can’t call it off. I need to make him get on his knees and cough up everything he’s swallowed.” Sophie looked at me, her expression changing. “Lynette, I don’t know exactly what you’re planning to do, but whatever it is, I’m on your side.” I watched her leave, then bent down to continue hitting the punching bag. Three days before the wedding, I received the investigator’s final audio recording, captured in Holt’s car. The recording featured Chelsea’s voice. “Holt, after the wedding she’ll be finished. That house in her name was bought with cash, right? When you transfer it to your name, we can move in together. Won’t that be perfect?” Holt laughed. “What’s the rush? After we get her house and transfer out her savings, then the marriage will have been worth it.” Chelsea giggled. “Holt, you’re so bad.” “Do you like it?” “I love it.” The recording cut off there. I sat on the bench in the gym locker room and listened to it three times. My hands were steady enough to back up that recording to three different cloud storage accounts. Then I transferred the final payment to the investigator with a note: Excellent work, exceeded expectations.

Two days before the wedding, Holt’s mother came to my door. She was carrying a bag of discounted fruit from the supermarket. She plopped down on my sofa, crossed her legs, and started issuing orders. “Lynette, I want to discuss something with you.” “That wedding house of yours was bought in full before marriage, right? Look, after you and Holt get married, you’ll be family. It looks bad for a family’s house to have just one person’s name on it.” “Add Holt’s name to it. When relatives and friends see it, they’ll think you two have such a good relationship.” I held my teacup without saying anything. “Chelsea even said that after a couple gets married, the house should be shared. You can’t be so selfish.” An outsider making decisions for me, and this mother-in-law thought it was perfectly natural. I took a deep breath and squeezed out an obedient smile. “Mom’s right. Give me the property deed and I’ll go to the housing authority tomorrow.” My mother-in-law’s face lit up. She pulled the property deed out of her bag and handed it over. Good grief, she even carried the property deed with her, just waiting for me to say those words. I took the property deed and saw off my mother-in-law. As soon as I closed the door, the smile vanished from my face. I took the property deed straight to a real estate agency and put the house up for emergency sale. The 3.8 million dollar house sold for 3.5 million. Though I lost a bit, it was better than letting Holt swallow it whole. The money arrived that same day. I transferred it all to a private overseas account. In my past life, Holt had sold this house and didn’t give me a single cent. This life, he wouldn’t touch a single brick. When I got home, Holt had miraculously appeared in the kitchen, holding a bowl of dark liquid he handed to me. “Lynette, you haven’t been looking well these past couple days. I specially made you some calming soup. Drink it and get a good night’s sleep tonight so you can be the most beautiful bride the day after tomorrow.” I took the bowl. A medicinal smell wafted up. In my past life, he’d used this bowl of soup to make me sleep for a full ten hours the night before the wedding, giving Chelsea plenty of time to transform the wedding venue into a fighting ring. I brought the bowl to my lips, pretending to drink. The instant he turned around, I spat it into a tissue, crumpled it up, and stuffed it in my pocket. “Honey, it’s delicious. Thank you.” A flash of satisfaction crossed Holt’s eyes. “Get to bed early. We still have rehearsal tomorrow.” He grabbed his jacket and left the bedroom, closing the guest room door to make a call. I pressed myself against the wall and listened to a couple sentences. “Chelsea, she drank it. She’s sleeping like a dead pig. The day after tomorrow is foolproof.” The voice on the other end belonged to Chelsea: “Holt, should I kick her left temple first or her right temple the day after tomorrow?” Holt laughed. “Whatever makes you happy. Either way, after you kick her, she’ll spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair.” I retreated to my bedroom and locked the door. I sat down at my desk, opened my laptop, and organized all the evidence I’d collected over these days into a PPT, arranged by timeline. The title was four words: “The Groom’s True Story.” I set up a timed playback program and linked it to the account for the wedding venue’s projection screen. After finishing all this, I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. No. I was a blade unsheathed.

The wedding day. Six in the morning. Sophie arrived right on time to help with my makeup. She unwrapped that two-hundred-thousand-dollar limited edition haute couture wedding dress, held it up to me, and her hands trembled. “Lynette… what are all these bruises on your arms…” “Don’t worry about it. Just help me apply extra thick concealer.” Sophie bit her lip and didn’t ask again. She applied three layers of concealer, barely covering the bruises. Despite the injuries, the muscle definition on the inside of my forearms was clearly visible. With the dress on and the veil in place, I turned a half-circle in front of the mirror. The woman in the mirror wore a form-fitting white short dress, like she was wearing white armor. They are the same as the waste who was kicked to the point of shattering his skull and paralyzed in a wheelchair a month ago. The Lynette from my past life had already died falling from the rooftop. The one who came back to life had crawled out of hell. At eight o’clock sharp, the wedding car arrived downstairs. Holt wore a well-tailored black suit and stood by the car door waiting for me, his cheeks clean-shaven, his shoes polished to a shine. When he saw me, his eyes brightened. I smiled and took his arm, getting into the car. Chelsea sat in the passenger seat wearing a bridesmaid dress, her hair in a low ponytail, light makeup on her face. Seeing me get in the car, she turned around and forced out a weak smile. “Lynette, you look so beautiful today.” Then she covered her mouth and coughed twice. I smiled and squeezed her hand. “Chelsea, thank you for your hard work today. You’re not feeling well but you’re still being my bridesmaid.” “It’s no trouble. Being able to witness Lynette’s happiness makes me happier than anyone.” Holt glanced at Chelsea in the rearview mirror. Chelsea looked back at him. That glance was extremely quick, less than a second, but I clearly saw the smugness, excitement, and impatience in it. The wedding car drove all the way to the Waldorf, the city’s most upscale hotel. Flower arches, red carpet, both sides lined with flower baskets sent by guests. Holt got out first, came around to my side and opened the door, bending down in a gentlemanly gesture. “Lynette, we’re here.” I lifted my skirt and got out, taking his arm. We walked through the corridor and pushed open the banquet hall doors. All the guests turned their heads in unison. Thunderous applause. I scanned the venue. The flowers, lighting, and table arrangements were all exactly as shown in the wedding plan. Except in the center of the stage, where the champagne tower should have been, stood an octagonal fighting ring. The ring was surrounded by protective ropes, the floor covered with thick blue wrestling mats. On the metal rack at the edge hung two pairs of brand new boxing gloves. I pretended to be surprised and asked Holt. “What is… this?” Holt gently patted the back of my hand, his tone natural. “Don’t be nervous, Lynette. This is a tradition from back home. The bride has to wrestle with the groomsmen in the ring—it’s called sharing good fortune. It’s just a traditional custom.” He stepped aside. Chelsea emerged from behind him, holding a pair of boxing gloves. She still wore that same expression, her voice very soft. “Lynette, Holt insisted I go up. I couldn’t refuse. Don’t worry, I’m so weak, I don’t have the strength of even one of your fingers. Let’s just go through the motions.” The relatives below, not understanding what was happening, started heckling. “Go on! When in Rome!” “Don’t be shy, bride!” “Chelsea’s so tiny a breeze could knock her over—what are you afraid of?” The noise grew louder and louder. Everyone was laughing, making a fuss. Not a single person thought there was anything wrong with this. Just like in my past life. I was silent for a full ten seconds, then raised my head and looked into Holt’s eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it.” Holt froze. I paused, then continued. “But I have one condition. If anything unexpected happens in the ring, no one blames anyone. We sign a liability waiver.” I took a pre-prepared document from Sophie and spread it open in front of Holt. Black text on white paper, the terms crystal clear. “During the sparring match, both parties bear full responsibility for any personal injuries sustained. The other party is not liable for compensation and cannot pursue any legal responsibility.” Holt glanced down at it twice, unable to suppress the upward curve of his mouth. In his view, I was digging my own grave. Chelsea’s eyes lit up. She snatched the pen and signed her name. After she signed the agreement, I turned and handed the document to Sophie for safekeeping. Then, in front of more than three hundred guests waiting to watch the show, I slowly put on my gloves and knee pads.

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My sister Rebecca’s engagement party was coming up. My mother Linda smiled warmly as she helped me try on my bridesmaid dress, telling me I was the most beautiful girl in the world. But the next second, I heard her vicious calculations from the depths of her mind: “The waistline of this dress is perfect—it’ll cover the incision nicely. Next week, after we harvest her kidney for Rebecca, Rebecca can marry into the Harrison family in style. As for whether this one survives the operating table… well, that’ll be up to fate.” In that moment, I felt like I’d plunged into an icy abyss. So I was never the beloved younger daughter. I was just a spare blood bag they’d carefully raised for eighteen years to use for Rebecca! Since you showed no humanity, don’t blame me for tearing down this facade of a family. Spotlights shone on the enormous floor-length mirror. I stood on a raised platform wearing a pure white bridesmaid dress. Linda knelt at my feet, several pins clenched between her lips, her hands deftly adjusting the fabric at my waist. She looked up at me, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes filled with love and tenderness. “Our Cassie is so beautiful. When your sister gets married, you’ll definitely be the prettiest bridesmaid there.” She reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, her fingertips warm against my skin. I looked at our reflection in the mirror—at the face that resembled hers—and started to form a happy smile. But then, abruptly, a cold, sharp voice echoed in my mind. *[This waistline is perfect. Next week after the surgery, we’ll slap some gauze on the wound, and this dress will hide everything.]* *[As long as she doesn’t die on the operating table, Rebecca’s illness will be cured. The wedding money and villa from the Harrisons will be secured.]* *[Even if this worthless girl does have an accident, trading one cheap life for our family’s prosperity for the rest of our lives—totally worth it.]* My smile froze instantly on my face. All the blood in my body seemed to drain away in that instant. My hands and feet turned ice-cold, like dead flesh. I stared hard at Linda in front of me. Her lips hadn’t moved at all. She still wore that motherly smile. But that voice—it was unmistakably hers, with a chilling calculation that made my skin crawl. “Linda…” I heard my own voice trembling. Linda immediately stood up, gripping my hands with a face full of concern. “What’s wrong? Is the dress too tight? Why is your face so pale?” *[Did this girl figure something out? No way. I need to watch her closely these next few days. Can’t let anything go wrong now.]* I bit down hard on my tongue until I tasted blood, barely suppressing the fear rising in my chest. “I’m fine. Maybe I didn’t sleep well last night. Just a little low blood sugar.” I forced out a weak smile. Linda breathed a sigh of relief and patted the back of my hand. “That’s good. The SATs are coming up soon—you need to take care of yourself. Your sister is counting on you to be there when she gets married.” I lowered my eyelids, hiding the coldness in my eyes. Be there when she gets married? More like hand over my kidney. Maybe even my life. This was my last day as their obedient daughter.

On the drive home, Richard was behind the wheel. He’d always been a man of few words, but today he kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “Cassie, take tomorrow off from school and go to the hospital for a full physical. You’re about to start college—need to make sure you’re healthy.” His tone was casual, like he was discussing something trivial. I leaned against the car window, watching the scenery fly past, saying nothing. Linda immediately chimed in. “That’s right. Your sister coughed up blood again today. She’s getting an IV at the hospital. If you were half as precious as your sister, I’d feel so much better.” *[Tomorrow once the compatibility results come back, we’ll schedule the surgery immediately. Richard’s already bought the drugs off the black market. She won’t have a choice.]* I suddenly gripped the seatbelt tighter, my knuckles turning white. Eighteen years. I’d finally seen this so-called family for what it really was. The living room walls were covered with Rebecca’s glamour shots from childhood to now. She wore princess dresses and tiaras—the treasured jewel held in the palm of the entire family. As for me? I didn’t have a single solo photo. The only picture I appeared in was a group shot from middle school graduation, pressed under the glass of the coffee table at the very bottom. All my life, if Rebecca coughed once, Linda would be frantic with worry. If Rebecca had a fever, Richard would drive across half the city in the middle of the night to buy her the strawberries she wanted. And me? When I had a 103-degree fever and was barely conscious, Linda just tossed two fever reducers on my nightstand. “Be good, Cassie. I have to go to the hospital to be with Rebecca. Take your medicine and sleep it off.” I used to think they favored Rebecca more because she wasn’t healthy. I tried so hard to be good, studied so hard, did all the housework—all just to earn even a single look of approval from them. Now I understood. I was never their daughter at all. I was just a “spare blood bag” they’d carefully raised and were ready to slaughter at any time—all for Rebecca.

At dinnertime, the table was laden with lavish dishes. Linda brought over a steaming bowl of beef stew and personally placed it in front of me. “Cassie, eat up. It’ll be good for you.” She smiled so kindly, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes smoothing out. *[I put half a sleeping pill in this soup. Once she’s out cold, we’ll take her straight to the hospital first thing tomorrow morning to draw blood. Saves us the trouble of dealing with a fuss.]* I looked at the bowl with its oily sheen, my stomach churning. “Thanks, Linda.” I picked up the bowl and stirred it gently with my spoon. Linda sat across from me, eyes fixed on my every movement without blinking. “Hurry up and eat. It’ll get fishy if it gets cold,” she urged. I scooped up a spoonful and brought it to my lips, then pretended to be burned and started coughing violently. “Burned! So hot!” I bent over, spitting all the soup into a tissue I’d prepared earlier, then quickly stuffed it into my sleeve. “You careless child.” Linda frowned, a flash of impatience in her tone. *[What a useless thing. Can’t even drink soup without choking. Hurry up and finish so she can sleep. Can’t delay tomorrow.]* I looked up, my eyes red from coughing. “Linda, I really can’t drink any more. I’m going to bed.” Linda looked at the bowl still more than half full, her expression darkening. “No way. You have to finish it! I spent all afternoon making this!” She suddenly stood up, grabbed the bowl, and tried to force it down my throat. I dodged to the side. The soup splashed onto the tablecloth. “Linda! I really can’t drink any more!” I raised my voice. Richard slammed his fork down hard on the table with a dull thud. “What kind of way is that to talk to your mother? She told you to drink, so drink!” I looked at their faces as they gradually shed their masks, the coldness in my heart growing deeper. I couldn’t confront them head-on right now. I took a deep breath, putting on a look of surrender, picked up the bowl, and drank it down in big gulps. Except each time, I cleverly held the liquid in my mouth, then spit it into the sponge hidden in my sleeve while pretending to wipe my mouth. After the last swallow, I set the empty bowl heavily on the table. “I’m done. Can I go to bed now?” Linda’s expression finally softened, revealing a satisfied smile. “That’s more like it. Go on, get some good sleep.” *[The drug takes effect in half an hour. Tonight’s in the bag.]*

Back in my room, I immediately locked the door. I rushed to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, stuck my fingers down my throat, and forced myself to vomit. I didn’t stop until I’d thrown up everything in my stomach, even the acid. I collapsed weakly against the sink. In the mirror, my face was deathly pale, my eyes bloodshot—like a ghost crawling out of hell. I didn’t cry. My tears had dried up the moment I saw the truth. I dug deep in my backpack and pulled out a small glass vial, carefully collecting the residual soup squeezed from the sponge in my sleeve. This was evidence of their crime. I pulled out an old, obsolete phone, connected it to a power bank, hid it in the pile of clutter under my bed, and activated the long-term recording function. After finishing all this, I lay in bed, closed my eyes, and waited quietly. Midnight. Light footsteps came from outside the door. Click—the lock was opened from the outside with a spare key. I slowed my breathing and lay completely still. Linda and Richard tiptoed to my bedside. “Is she asleep?” Richard whispered. Linda waved her hand in front of my eyes, then pushed my shoulder. “Out cold. This drug is strong—couldn’t wake a pig.” She laughed coldly, her tone devoid of any pity for her daughter—only the satisfaction of a successful scheme. “Alright, quit talking. Hurry up and get the consent form,” Richard urged. The sound of rustling papers filled the air. “Here, hold her thumb and press it right here.” Linda directed. I felt a rough hand grab my right thumb and press it toward something cold—an ink pad. *[Once she’s stamped her thumbprint, this girl won’t be able to fly away even with wings. Even if she wakes up later, it’ll be in black and white. She won’t be able to deny it.]* Just as my fingertip was about to touch that so-called “voluntary organ donation consent form,” I suddenly opened my eyes. In the darkness, my eyes shone brightly. “Linda, Richard—what are you doing?”

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