Category: English

In my husband Alex’s car accident insurance claim, I saw a life insurance policy worth five million dollars. The beneficiary wasn’t me. It wasn’t our four-year-old daughter, Betty, either. It was a name I had never heard of—Aurora. I stared at the name. The blood in my veins turned to ice. The insurance agent on the other end of the line was still speaking in a polite, professional tone: “Mrs. Wilson, your husband’s injuries are not severe. It’s mostly soft tissue bruising. You don’t need to worry too much.” “Regarding this policy…” “I got it.” I heard my own voice. It was incredibly calm—scarily calm. “Thank you.” I hung up and sat on the bench in the hospital corridor, clutching the thin photocopy of the document. There it was, in black and white: Policyholder: Alex Wilson; Insured: Alex Wilson; Beneficiary: Aurora. The policy was opened five years ago. The very first year of our marriage. The annual premium: fifty thousand dollars. Paid consecutively for five years. That was two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in total. For the past five years, I had stood by his side through his startup journey. I watched him go from having absolutely nothing to building a decently sized tech company. I gave up my job as a Creative Design Director to become a stay-at-home mom, being his strongest support system. I poured my entire life savings and the $600,000 cash gift my parents gave us for our wedding straight into his so-called tech startup. To save money, I scoured grocery apps for coupons. I only bought Betty’s clothes from the clearance racks at Target. The trench coat I was wearing right now was one I had bought three years ago. Yet, in a dark corner I knew nothing about, he was spending fifty thousand dollars a year to secure a five-million-dollar future for a strange woman. I suddenly wanted to laugh. Alex, my dear husband. What on earth did you take me for?

“Christy? What are you doing here?” Alex was lying in the hospital bed, his left leg in a cast. When he saw me, a flicker of panic crossed his eyes before he quickly hid it. “I came to see you.” I set down the insulated food jar. Inside was the slow-cooked oxtail soup he loved most. I had simmered it for four hours. “It’s just a minor injury. You didn’t have to trouble yourself.” He tried to sit up, but the movement winced his wound, making him gasp. I walked over, adjusted the bed head, and placed a pillow behind his back. “Is the office busy? Where is Betty?” he asked. “The office is fine. I dropped Betty off at my mom’s place.” I pulled my hands back, opened the container, ladled a bowl of soup, and handed it to him. “The doctor said you have a minor bone fracture. You need bed rest for three months.” “Three months?” He frowned. “What about the company? We have a crucial project launching right now.” “Your health comes first,” I said quietly, watching him take sip after sip of the soup. After a few mouthfuls, he seemed to remember something and put the bowl down. “By the way, did the insurance company call you?” “Yes.” “What did they say?” His eyes darted away. “Nothing much. Just verifying some basic details.” I lowered my gaze, staring at the cast on his leg. “Alex, when I was organizing the claim files today, I saw your accidental life insurance policy.” His hand shook, almost imperceptibly. “Oh… that one. I bought it years ago.” He pretended to be casual, picking up his spoon to stir the soup. “The beneficiary is Aurora,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “Who is she?” Alex’s face turned instantly pale. His hand froze mid-air. A drop of soup dripped from the spoon, staining the white bedsheet with a greasy spot. “Christy, I…” He opened his mouth, trying to find a plausible excuse. “Who is she?” I repeated. The air in the room seemed to freeze. He avoided my gaze and remained silent for a long time. It was so long that I thought he wouldn’t answer at all. “…She’s a… friend of mine,” he finally spoke, his voice raspy. “A friend?” I laughed. The sound was sharp and mocking in the quiet room. “What kind of friend is worth you keeping secrets, spending fifty thousand dollars a year to buy her a five-million-dollar safety net?” I took a step closer. I slammed the lid of the food jar onto the nightstand, making a sharp clattering sound. “Alex, we’ve been married for five years. How did I not know you had a friend you’d trust with your life and death?” He didn’t dare look at me anymore. His eyes fixed on the greasy stain on the bedsheet as if it held his saving grace. “Christy, it’s not what you think,” he muttered weakly. “Aurora has a bad heart. She was born with congenital heart disease. I just wanted to leave her some security.” “Congenital heart disease?” I repeated, finding it utterly ridiculous. “Alex, do you actually believe that lie yourself?” “It’s true!” He looked up quickly, trying to grab my hand, but I stepped back to avoid him. “She’s the daughter of my college mentor. Years ago, he died in an accident while saving my life.” “On his deathbed, he entrusted Aurora to me. I promised him I would take care of her for the rest of her life.” He spoke with such passion, his eyes even turning red. What a touching story. A heroic mentor, a frail orphan girl, and a loyal student. If the beneficiary of that policy weren’t Aurora instead of me, I would have clapped for my husband’s “noble character.” “Your mentor? How come I’ve never heard you mention him?” I looked at him coldly. “I went to your college graduation. Your mentor, Professor Johnson, just retired this year. He actually emailed us baby pictures of his grandson last month.”

Alex’s face went from pale to ash gray. He probably didn’t expect me to remember such a detail so clearly. “It was another professor,” he stammered, still trying to fight it. “Which one? What’s his name? What year did he pass away? I’ll go to your university’s archives tomorrow to check.” He fell completely silent. The room became dead quiet. I looked at him. This was the man I had loved for five years, the man I had given my youth and savings to. In this moment, I felt nothing but disgust. “Alex.” I took a deep breath, forcing down the nausea rising in my throat. “I am asking you one last time. Who is Aurora?” He remained silent for a long time, until the sunlight outside shifted its angle. Finally, he looked up, his eyes filled with exhaustion and silent pleading. “Christy, just don’t ask, okay?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m begging you. Just blame me. But there is really nothing romantic between us.” “I’ll find a way to cancel that policy.” “Cancel it?” I laughed. “Five years. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. And you say you’ll just ‘cancel’ it?” “Alex, that was our family’s money! That was the startup capital I saved by pinching pennies! That was Betty’s college fund!” My voice rose uncontrollably, my chest heaving. He was startled by my reaction. His lips trembled. “Christy, don’t be mad. I’ll pay you back…” “With what?” I glared at him. “Your company just got on track. Every single penny needs to be reinvested into projects. Tell me, where are you getting the money to pay me back?” He had no answer. Looking at his pathetic, guilty face, the last shred of warmth in my heart died. I turned around and grabbed my bag. “Where are you going?” he asked frantically. “Home.” I didn’t look back. “Have a good recovery, Mr. Wilson.” I spat out “Mr. Wilson” coldly. As I walked out of the hospital lobby, the bright sunlight stung my eyes. I stood by the curb and called my best friend, Charlotte. Charlotte was a fierce, sharp-witted corporate lawyer, and the only person I trusted completely. The moment she picked up, her voice came through: “Hey Christy, what’s wrong? You sound off.” “Charlotte.” My voice shook, but I forced myself to stay steady. “Can you help me dig into someone?” “Who?” “Aurora.” Saying the name felt like swallowing a needle. “Female. That’s her name. I don’t know anything else.” The line went silent for a few seconds. “Is this about Alex?” Charlotte asked sharply. “Yes.” “Alright.” She didn’t press further. “Give me half a day. Where are you now? Don’t be alone.” “I’m outside the hospital, about to head home.” “Okay. I’ll handle my meetings and come find you.” “Remember, until we have all the facts, do not make a move. Don’t pick a fight with him.” “I know.” After hanging up, I took an Uber home. The house was empty. Without Betty’s laughter, it felt cold and hollow. I walked into our bedroom and opened the closet. The left side was mine—only a few clothes hung there. Mostly cotton tees and jeans. The most expensive piece was a trench coat I bought three years ago. The right side was Alex’s—expensive suits, designer shirts, silk ties, all organized and perfectly pressed. Every single piece cost a fortune. He had told me that in business, appearance was everything. I had believed him. I thought him dressing sharp was for our family, for our future. How pathetic of me. I walked into the study and booted up his laptop. The password was Betty’s birthday. I used to be deeply moved by this detail, thinking he kept us close to his heart. Now, it just felt like a mockery. I searched the name “Aurora.” Soon, an account popped up on Instagram. The profile picture was a woman’s silhouette. She had long, flowing hair and stood in a field of flowers, looking elegant and artistic. Her handle was simply “Aurora.” Her bio read: Artist. Idealist. I clicked in. Her feed was filled with an aesthetic lifestyle—art exhibitions, luxury travels, fine dining, fresh flowers. Every photo looked like a movie still. She was living the life I had once dreamed of, the life I had sacrificed to support Alex.

I scrolled down. A post from three weeks ago caught my eye. It was a photo of a painting. The caption read: “When my inspiration runs dry, thank god I have you.” The painting depicted a beach with a lighthouse. I knew that lighthouse all too well. It was the beach in my hometown. It was the exact spot where Alex and I had officially started dating. He had told me I was his lighthouse. My fingers shook uncontrollably as I opened the comments section. The top comment was from an account named “A.W.” The profile picture was just a black screen. He had replied with just one word: “Always.” A.W. Alex Wilson. I clicked on “A.W.’s” profile. It was completely empty. He only followed one person—Aurora. I went back to Aurora’s Instagram and kept scrolling. I saw countless photos of her traveling the world. The Eiffel Tower in Paris, cherry blossoms in Kyoto, blue-domed churches in Santorini. I looked at them one by one, matching the dates of her photos with the dates in my memory when Alex was “away on business.” Paris, three years ago: He said he was attending a tech summit in New York. Kyoto, two years ago: He said he was meeting a client in Toronto. Santorini, last year: He said it was a company retreat in Miami. It turned out his “business trips” and “company retreats” were actually spent accompanying another woman on the other side of the world, indulging in romance. And what was I doing during those times? I was probably haggling over grocery prices at the market. I was probably holding a feverish Betty in my arms, waiting in line alone at the ER. I was probably at home, washing piles of his dirty socks, looking forward to him coming home from his “hard work.” I shut the laptop down. I felt utterly frozen, as if I had been dropped into a glacial lake. The love I believed in, the marriage I was so proud of—it was all a carefully crafted scam from the very beginning. And I was the fool who had been kept in the dark the longest.

In the afternoon, Charlotte arrived. The moment she stepped in, she gave me a tight hug. “I got everything.” She pressed me down onto the sofa and handed me a warm cup of water. “Drink this, calm down, and listen to me.” I held the cup and nodded. “Aurora, twenty-eight, professional painter. She owns her own gallery and studio in the city’s trendiest art district.” Charlotte spoke fast and clear. “She has a luxury condo downtown, 1,700 square feet, fully paid off. It was bought four years ago.” “And she has zero history of heart disease. She’s perfectly healthy.” “Four years ago…” I whispered. That was the second year of our marriage. That was when I handed Alex our wedding fund cash to help him expand his company. “Exactly,” Charlotte looked at me, her eyes filled with sympathy. “I also checked her gallery. She is the legal representative, but the biggest investor is… Alex’s company.” “How much did he invest?” “Over three million dollars in total.” “On the books, it was masked as ‘art procurement’ and ‘brand image design’ expenses.” I laughed. What a brilliant “art procurement.” What a creative “brand image design.” He used my money to fund his mistress’s dreams, throwing millions to pave a glamorous path for her. Meanwhile, I, his legal wife, had to hesitate before buying a single piece of new clothing. “There’s more.” Charlotte paused, pulling a document from her bag. “This is the equity structure of Alex’s company. Take a look.” I took it. My hands were shaking violently. It was clearly written. Alex owned 60%, his partner Jack owned 30%, and the remaining 10%… was under Aurora’s name. “Jack is his co-founder, I know that.” I pointed at Aurora’s name. “But what is this ten percent?” “The corporate registry shows this ten percent was transferred from Alex’s personal shares to her, free of charge, three years ago.” Three years ago. Again. The exact year he went to Paris with her. “A free transfer?” “Yes.” Charlotte’s expression was grim. “Christy, this means legally, Aurora is a shareholder in Alex’s company. She gets annual dividends.” I stared at the document, my vision blurring. I had poured my life savings into his company, and all I got was the empty title of a “supportive wife.” But that woman, without contributing a single dime, became a shareholder and sat back to collect dividends every year. Alex, you really are something else. What did you think of me? A free housekeeper who guards your house, bears your child, serves you, and funds your mistress? “Christy, are you okay?” Charlotte asked worriedly. I shook my head and set the papers back on the table. “I’m fine.” My voice was incredibly calm, surprising even myself. “Charlotte, if I file for divorce right now, what can I get?” Charlotte blinked, then took a professional tone. “Don’t rush. Let’s take this step by step. First, the most important thing is evidence.” “I have it,” I said. “The five-million-dollar insurance policy, and everything you just found.” “It’s not enough,” Charlotte shook her head. “These only prove his infidelity and the dissipation of marital assets. But to get back what you truly deserve, we need ironclad proof, especially the paper trail of that $600,000 your parents gave him.” “I bank-transferred that money to him in two installments. There are bank records.” “Did you write a memo on the transfer?” “No. Back then… I trusted him completely.” Charlotte sighed. “That makes things trickier.” “He can easily argue that the money was a gift, or that it was already spent on family expenses. To prove it was a business investment and that he misappropriated it, we need to get our hands on the company’s internal accounting books.” “He will never give them to me.” “I know,” Charlotte’s eyes turned sharp. “So, we have to find a way to get them ourselves.”

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I was on a romantic getaway abroad with my fiancée, Grace Fletcher, when our plane went down in a catastrophic crash. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had been reborn. We were back to the days when we had just met. In my past life, I loved her to the point of madness for three years. I spoiled her rotten, but she never allowed me to get physically close to her, using her extreme germophobia as an excuse. It was only by pure accident that I discovered the truth—she was still deeply in love with her childhood best friend, Isaac Vance. Having been given a second chance at life, I decided to let her go. I chose to step aside and stop entangling myself with her. Five years had passed. Grace, now an award-winning actress, was walking arm-in-arm with her childhood sweetheart, Isaac, handing out wedding invitations to a line of her loyal fans. When she noticed me standing alone at the very back of the line, her face twisted with sheer disdain. “Edward, no matter how amazing I am, is it really necessary for you to stalk me through two lifetimes?” I couldn’t be bothered to waste my breath on her. Instead, I reached down and scooped up my daughter, Maria, into my arms. The color instantly drained from Grace’s face. She screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice cracking with hysteria: “You promised me! You said you would only ever marry me, and that I was the only one allowed to be the mother of your children!”

Five years later, I ran into Grace again at an exclusive private country club. I had just finished planning, coordinating, and setting up three major weddings back-to-back. Absolutely exhausted and looking a bit of a mess, I was sitting in a quiet corner of the lobby, nursing a bottle of water. Nearby, Grace and Isaac were handing out invitations to a crowd of adoring fans, soaking in their endless flattery. “Grace, you’re literally the breakout star of the industry! An Academy Award in just three years!” “And you and Isaac are finally getting married! You really have it all!” “Seriously! Grace is the most sought-after actress both here and abroad. Her wealth and connections are insane now.” “Isaac is a rising star in Los Angeles’ elite circles, too. You guys are the definition of couple goals!” “Grace, if your next movie needs extras, please throw us a bone! Let us experience the star life too.” “Yeah, let us ride your coattails and make some quick cash!” Grace smiled warmly, pointing at the man beside her. “Once our wedding is over, I’ll make sure Isaac sets something up for you guys.” Suddenly, one of the fans piped up, “Hey, Grace, is that guy Edward still stalking you?” “Ugh, remember how he used to follow you around like a lost puppy? It was so annoying.” “Yeah, rumor has it that the first TV show you invested in was actually based on your story with him.” Hearing my name, I paused and looked up. Grace’s smile vanished, and she frowned in annoyance. Being the perfect, attentive fiancé, Isaac quickly stepped in with a smooth smile. “Oh, come on, guys. Those are just internet rumors.” “If Grace and Edward actually had anything going on, would I be standing here handing out our wedding invitations today?” The young fans nodded in agreement, immediately turning their anger on the internet trolls who started the rumors. Sitting in my corner, I let out a mocking, silent laugh. In our past life, Grace had once told me that if she ever became an actress, she would tell the whole world our love story so everyone would envy how pure our love was. Back then, we were both kids raised by single parents. We met through a mutual college roommate and gradually became inseparable. Perhaps because we shared similar lonely childhoods, we always had endless things to talk about. After a group dinner one night, Grace got a little tipsy and confessed her feelings to me. With blushing cheeks, she had said, “Edward, you’ve been in my heart for so long. I want to be with you forever.” Young and hopelessly in love, I happily agreed. At that time, I genuinely believed I had found my soulmate. But reality soon started slapping me in the face. Clank! My water bottle slipped and rolled across the marble floor, the sharp noise instantly drawing everyone’s attention to my corner. “Wait, isn’t that Edward? Is he seriously stalking Grace again?” “Look at that blue utility jumpsuit. Don’t tell me he’s working here as a janitor?” “We, as Grace’s loyal fans, are all high-class people with actual money.” “You sneaked in here without an invitation. Don’t get caught by the paparazzi, you’ll make Grace look bad!” “Honestly, let’s just start a GoFundMe and throw him a thousand bucks so he can get the hell out of here! He’s embarrassing us!” The crowd erupted into nasty laughter, throwing looks of pure disgust my way. I calmly picked up my water bottle, wiped it down with a napkin, and ignored them. Grace looked at me with a complicated expression, her voice dripping with condescension. “Edward, look at yourself. What have you become?” Isaac wrapped a comforting arm around her waist and said gently, “Now, Grace, we did know Edward back in the day.” “Since he’s reduced to working as a low-level setup guy here, we should show some charity and help him out.”

Isaac looked at me, a smug smirk playing on his lips. “Seriously, Edward, if you’ve been struggling so hard these past five years, you should have just asked us for help!” “Even if you were too embarrassed to face Grace, you could have come to beg me.” “A man with no money and no stable job… it’s just pathetic.” The fans cheered at Isaac’s words, praising his generosity. I got up, opened the heavy glass doors for a pregnant woman walking by, and then turned back to decline his offer. “No, thank you. I can feed myself.” Having just managed three luxury weddings in a row, my entire body was aching. All I wanted was to sit down and rest. Since I was already wearing my durable work clothes, I didn’t care about manners and simply sat back down on the clean floor. The fans gasped, looking like they wanted to physically throw me out. “Wow, the nerve of this guy! Isaac was just being nice, who do you think you are?” “He’s staying here on purpose just to play the victim card in front of Grace.” “He wants Grace to pity him and throw him some cash! Disgusting!” A storm of emotions flashed through Grace’s eyes, her frown deepening. Suddenly, she reached into her designer bag, pulled out an expensive emerald necklace, and threw it right into my lap. “Pawn it. The cash you get will be enough to buy a decent apartment.” “Whether you live in it or rent it out, you won’t have to humiliate yourself working as a janitor anymore.” “Edward, there’s no need to make yourself look this miserable. No matter how much you loved me, we are in the past now.” “I don’t even hold a grudge against you anymore.” “Can’t we just live our own lives? Why do you have to show up like this and make things awkward for both of us?!” Leaning against the wall, I looked at her, utterly baffled by her sudden outburst. I couldn’t understand what I had done in our past life—where I had literally given her my heart and soul—that made her “grudge-holding” and so determined to completely cut me out of her life after we both got a reset. In our past life, Grace carried the heavy burden of her mother’s terminal cancer bills. But she was vain and beautiful, obsessed with the dream of becoming a famous Hollywood star. To support her dream and be her rock, I didn’t hesitate to remortgage the house my parents left me and gave her every single penny. When she said she wanted to move to another state to attend an elite acting school but worried about her hospitalized mother, I didn’t hesitate. I quit my job just as I was about to be promoted to regional manager. I spent my days and nights at the hospital, taking care of her dying mother so she could pursue her Hollywood dream without any worries. Back then, I gave her everything. I just wanted her to know that I loved her, and that she could lean on me. But when she was preparing for a crucial audition and couldn’t find a single designer dress in her closet, she completely snapped. She lost her mind, scratching my arms until they bled. “I was crazy! Why did I ever get stuck with a loser like you?!” “You can’t give me anything! If I had just accepted Isaac’s sponsorship, I wouldn’t be struggling like this!” “I hate myself for choosing you!” From that day on, Grace became a completely different person. She stopped talking about her acting dreams with excitement, and she stopped going to auditions. Our relationship turned ice-cold. The memory of her harsh words still felt like a physical stab to my chest. To cheer me up, a close friend gifted me two tickets for a three-day tropical getaway. Terrified of losing her, I got down on one knee on the plane and proposed. “Grace, you are the only one I want to marry. Let’s make this official.” But I would never forget the look of absolute disgust in her eyes. She slapped the silver ring out of my hand and snapped, “No money, no house, and you want to get married? Are you insane?” “Do you have zero self-awareness? How did you even come up with such a pathetic idea?” “Let me make this clear. I could marry anyone in the world, but you? Never.” Her cold, ruthless words made me realize it was truly over. I sat back in my seat, utterly hollowed out. Even when the plane began to violently shake and dive, I felt no fear. As the nose of the plane plunged toward the ocean, I closed my eyes and whispered in my heart: Let it end. Let this messy, miserable life finally end.

The tiny spark of affection I once had for Grace had been completely incinerated in that plane crash. In this new life, we had both silently agreed to ignore each other’s existence, living like parallel lines that would never intersect. Even running into her now, I had zero desire to have anything to do with her. I calmly picked up the emerald necklace and tossed it back into her lap. “Miss Fletcher, if you want to make a charitable donation, the orphanage is down the street. I’m not your trash can.” Grace’s face flushed with anger. “Edward! You know exactly what I’m trying to do. Why do you have to twist my words like this?” “Miss Fletcher,” I replied, my voice cold and flat. “You are a taken woman. Please mind your boundaries.” “I don’t need to understand your intentions, nor do I care. I make enough money to support myself, and I’m perfectly content.” With that, I turned my back on her. Furious, Grace slammed the emerald necklace onto the floor, the heavy gems making a sharp clattering sound. Isaac’s expression darkened instantly. He picked up the necklace, dusting it off, and looked at me with a condescending, patronizing smile. “Edward, we’re both men here. I get it, you’re trying to save face.” “But Grace is my fiancée, and since she sincerely wants to help you, I’ll make sure it happens.” “Since you’re too proud to accept a valuable piece of jewelry, how about a comfortable, easy job?” “Grace and I just got a golden retriever, and we need a live-in dog nanny. The pay is five thousand dollars a month, room and board included.” “Drop the useless pride, Edward. Come report to our mansion tomorrow morning.” The fans immediately began to murmur in awe. “Oh my god! Grace and Isaac are literally saints!” “They’re basically offering to feed him and pay for his retirement.” “Playing with a puppy pays way better than being a janitor!” “If he rejects this, he’s just being greedy and probably wants to blackmail Grace for more!” “Seriously, does he not look in the mirror? He’s not even a fraction of the man Isaac is!” My brows furrowed. “No interest,” I said coldly. Grace lost her patience and snapped, “Fine! If you love being a lowly setup guy so much, keep doing it. Go ahead and rot at the bottom of society!” Seeing Grace turn hostile toward me, her rabid fans immediately jumped at the chance to please her. The fan who had been called out earlier for spreading rumors stepped right in front of me, a nasty, mocking sneer on her face. “Hey, Edward, aren’t you just holding out for more money?” “Tell you what. If you crawl through my legs ten times and call me ‘gorgeous’ each time, I’ll gladly pay for your rent and meals. What do you say?” The girls next to her, eager to show off in front of Grace, surged forward and aggressively shoved me. Losing my balance, I tripped and fell hard right at her feet, my forehead hitting the floor as if I were bowing to her. “What the hell is wrong with you guys?!” Grace’s face turned furious. She rushed over and violently shoved the fans away. “Is this the kind of garbage behavior my fan club represents? Who gave you the right to do this?” “If anyone ever pulls a disgusting, low-class stunt like this in front of me again, get the hell out of my sight! You’re making me sick!” The fans who had been pushed to the ground were completely stunned. Realizing they had crossed a line, they burst into tears, begging Grace for forgiveness. But Grace showed no mercy, coldly kicking their hands away. Isaac quickly grabbed her arm, whispering urgently, “Grace, calm down. People are watching. Don’t let anyone record this and twist it!” “You just won Best Actress! You need to protect your public image!” Grace glared at the crying fans, her chest heaving with anger. “Then they shouldn’t be acting like trash under my name!” I slowly sat up, feeling incredibly perplexed. Did Grace just turn on her own fans… to defend me? Isaac quickly tried to change the subject, pointing to the massive LED screen in the club lobby. “Grace, do you know why I booked your fan meetup at this specific private club?” “The owner of this place is a legendary billionaire tycoon. She owns over fifty major media, entertainment, and production companies.” “Almost all the award-winning blockbusters recently were produced by her companies. Everyone in the industry is desperate to get a meeting with her.” “Today, she’s bringing her family here for a routine inspection.” “If we can get on her good side, our careers will skyrocket!” The fans who had been crying a moment ago immediately forgot their tears and crowded around the entrance, craneing their necks to look outside. A moment later, a sleek, custom stretch Lincoln pulled up at the entrance. A crowd of elite bodyguards and private nannies walked in, surrounding a beautiful little girl. A fan squealed in excitement, “Oh my god, the billionaire’s family is here!” I tried to step through the crowd to see the little girl. But a fan violently shoved her elbow into my chest. “Get out of the way, loser! Only Grace’s VIP fans get to stand here. Who do you think you are?” “You insulted Grace and refused to be my boy toy. You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as us!” Isaac smirked slightly, giving the fan an encouraging look, and another girl pushed me hard. The little girl in the center of the crowd suddenly gasped, her face turning pale. She broke away from her nannies, running past the security guards straight toward me. “Daddy! Are you okay?”

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When I was chasing Victor, the cold and penniless campus heartthrob, I didn’t just cover his tuition. I even paid for his mother’s life-saving surgery. With nothing but raw passion and my family’s deep pockets, I finally won him over. I thought marriage would be my happily ever after. But Victor never loved me. Not for a single second. During our years of marriage, he wore a mask. Secretly, he loathed me, believing I was a wicked woman who used money to humiliate him. So, on the day I went into labor, which happened to be the wedding day of his first love, Vivian… In utter despair, he refused to sign the C-section consent form, leaving me and our unborn twins to die on the operating table. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in college. This time, I immediately donated the money to the school’s financial aid fund instead. Ignoring Victor’s shocked stare, I smiled and accepted the proposal of a wealthy heir who actually matched my status. “A power couple,” I said. “We were always meant to be.”

“Victor, if you’re struggling, you can apply for a tuition waiver.” “No need, Mr. Harrison. Alice will pay it for him.” I opened my eyes abruptly. I wasn’t on that blood-stained hospital bed anymore. I was sitting in a university classroom. Right now, our professor, Mr. Harrison, was trying to convince Victor to apply for financial aid. My classmates were smirking, expecting me to jump in and pay Victor’s tuition like I always did. I pinched myself. The sharp pain told me everything. I had been reborn, back to fifteen years ago. Back then, I was Victor’s ultimate simp. I followed the cold campus heartthrob everywhere, throwing money at him. Not only did I cover his tuition and fees, but I even begged my parents to get the city’s top surgeons for his sick mother. In my past life, I was helplessly infatuated with him. I gave him my heart and my wealth, but all I got in return was his cold shoulder. Yet, after ten years of my relentless chasing, he finally agreed to date me. I thought my love had finally melted his icy heart. In reality, he only did it because Vivian was injured and desperately needed money for surgery. Once I found out, I cried my eyes out and tried to let him go. But his eyes went red. “Alice, don’t leave me.” He promised over and over that we would build a real life together. He started treating me like a queen. Stupidly, I forgave him. Later, Victor took over my family’s business. I stepped back to focus on our home and soon got pregnant. But the day Vivian’s wedding invitation arrived, my beautiful dream shattered into a million pieces. When I had a difficult labor, Victor refused to sign the C-section consent form. As I was dying of pain on the delivery table, Victor leaned down, his eyes bloodshot, and whispered in my ear: “This is your punishment, Alice.” “If you hadn’t used your money to force me, threatening me with Vivian’s life and my mother’s medical bills, Vivian and I would never have broken up.” “Just die. Once you’re gone, I’ll inherit the Bowman family fortune and be with Vivian.” “Consider this your compensation to us!” The labor went on too long. My twins suffocated inside me, and I drew my last breath in agony. Three lives gone, just like that. I paid with my life to learn a lesson: some things can never be forced. Recalling my horrific death, I pulled back my hand just as I was about to hand over my credit card. I looked up at Victor, who was standing tall and proud. He still had that arrogant, aloof expression, rejecting Mr. Harrison’s suggestion to apply for financial aid.

The classroom started whispering. “Alice has spent so much on Victor anyway. What’s a little tuition?” I let out a cold, mocking laugh. Suddenly, Victor yelled: “I may be poor, but I have pride! I’d rather drop out of school than accept Alice’s charity!” He strutted over to my desk, chest puffed out. “Stop trying to bind me with your money. I wouldn’t be with you even if I were begging on the streets!” Hearing this, it hit me. Victor had been reborn too. In our past life, he would only frown and look reluctant, but he still accepted my money. This time, he was rejecting me outright. Great! What a man of steel! I turned around and handed a thick stack of cash to Mr. Harrison. “Mr. Harrison, since the school helps students in need, I’d like to donate this money directly to the university’s scholarship fund.” “I hope it goes to students who actually need it.” Mr. Harrison froze. Victor froze too. “Alice? Did I hear you right? Isn’t this money for Victor?” I nodded. I looked at Victor and caught the shock and humiliation written all over his face. Seeing the rich girl who used to chase him suddenly stop his allowance made his fragile ego crumble. He sneered, “Alice, stop playing hard to get. I said I won’t take your money.” “Unless you promise not to force me to be with you, then maybe I’ll let you sponsor me.” I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. I asked loudly, “Victor, did I ever say this money was for you?” “Whether you swallow your pride to apply for aid or pack your bags and drop out, it has absolutely nothing to do with me.” The classmates, who were waiting for a show, burst into laughter. Victor was famous for being aloof and noble. But he was too used to being confident. After a brief moment of panic, he composed himself. He turned to me and said, “I only accepted your help before because you insisted. But don’t you dare think you can buy my love.” “Swear to everyone here that you won’t force me to date you, and I’ll accept your tuition money.” Wow. Even the onlookers couldn’t hold back their chuckles. It was their first time seeing a beggar try to be a chooser so shamelessly. “Is Victor deaf?” “Alice just said she’s giving the money to the school fund. When did she say she was sponsoring him?” “Man, if Alice hadn’t been boosting his ego all this time, where would he get this delusion?” “Maybe Alice really did force him because of his looks, and he’s just fed up?” Everyone was whispering, and the gossip quickly drifted back to me “forcing” Victor to date me.

I wasn’t about to carry the reputation of a desperate rich girl who bought a boyfriend for a second lifetime. I had to clear my name right then and there. I looked Victor dead in the eye and said coldly: “You still want my money?” “The school has financial aid, but you’re too proud to apply, expecting me to beg you to take my cash?” “Do I look that pathetic to you?” Seeing my serious face, Victor’s confident facade began to crack. He blustered, “I don’t care if you’re playing mind games or trying to blackmail me with money.” “You will never separate me from Vivian again, you wicked woman.” By now, the crowd understood. I was done being his ATM. Besides, I had never forced Victor to do anything in my life. How could I have “stolen” him with money? Sure, Alice used to be a simp, but times change. Who says I have to love Victor forever? With that established, no one could throw dirt on me anymore. “Victor, just apply for financial aid. Everyone knows your situation anyway.” “Yeah, dude. Don’t demand pride and cash at the same time. Let Alice go.” “Honestly, Alice gave you so much money, and she never forced you to date her.” Hearing a few voices take my side, the sheer injustice of my past death washed over me. I admitted I liked him. I liked his pride and aloofness, but I never forced him. Instead, he was always cruel to me. He took my money and then insulted me for being a useless rich girl. For him, I fought with my parents and moved into his tiny, run-down apartment. I took care of his sick mother, did all the chores, and even paused my studies to help his career. I was a silent giver, yet he always saw me as a monster who humiliated him with wealth. He believed I ruined his chance with Vivian and forced him into marriage. I used to hate that he couldn’t see my devotion. But now, I only hated his hypocrisy, cowardice, and double standards. I announced loudly, “Victor, yes, I used to chase you.” “But starting today, we are strangers. I want Mr. Harrison and everyone here to be my witness.” “And of course, you won’t get another single penny from me.” Leaving a stunned Victor behind, I turned on my heel and went home.

My parents were shocked and thrilled to see me home. Looking at them, and remembering how they suffered in my past life, I burst into tears. My dad, who had been furious with me for obsessing over Victor, panicked when he saw me cry. “Alice… if you really love him that much, I won’t stop you!” My mom was heartbroken. Thinking someone had bullied me, she wanted to go pull some hairs out. I choked back my sobs. “No, Dad. It’s over. I was stupid.” “Victor just wanted to bleed us dry. I was ungrateful and made you guys suffer for nothing.” My dad let out a massive sigh of relief. He didn’t care why I suddenly woke up; he was just glad I did. I wiped my tears and sat down at the dining table under their warm gazes. The table was packed with my favorite dishes. Mom smiled, “Eat up, sweetheart. You’ve gotten so thin lately.” In my past life, to protect Victor’s fragile ego, I wore cheap clothes, took the bus, and refused to use our family chauffeur. Now, looking at my designer clothes and perfect makeup in the mirror, I found my past self hilarious. I was born to stand on top of the world. Why did I drag myself through the mud for a piece of trash? The next day, I had my chauffeur park my Maybach right at the school entrance. As the door opened, whispers erupted. “Is that Alice in a Maybach?” “Didn’t she walk to school every day just to spare Victor’s feelings?” I walked past the crowd with my head held high, only to be blocked by Victor at the corner of the hallway. His collar was stained with grease, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was clutching a crumpled piece of paper. I glanced at it. It was a tuition warning letter. “Move,” I said, not even looking at him. “Alice!” He grabbed the strap of my designer bag, pulling so hard I almost fell. “Do you think playing hard to get will make me bow down to you?” I slapped his hand away and sneered, “Victor, you’re blocking my way.” His breathing turned shallow, and he slammed the letter against the wall. “Stop pretending! Didn’t you beg me to spend your money in our last life?” “Wait… did you get reborn too?” He stepped closer. “So what if you did? You’re still the same desperate girl who would do anything for me!” “Go to the office right now, cancel that donation, and pay my tuition! And Vivian’s too!” I almost laughed out loud. “Why on earth would I do that?” “Because you’re the reason she can’t afford school!”

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In the seventh year of serving a prison sentence for Ethan Foster, I was released early for good behavior. When I walked out of prison, Ethan held up a priceless pink diamond and proposed to me. Everyone praised him for never abandoning me. It was not until the night before the wedding that I learned his real wedding gift to me was putting my virginity up for auction. The starting bid was one dollar. Ethan’s friends burst into laughter. “Ethan, your bride just got out of prison, and she’s carrying all that bad luck with her, so I bet she won’t even sell for a dollar.” “Exactly, you get to enjoy your wedding night with your lover Chloe while leaving trash like this for us.” He sat in the shadows, his expression indifferent. “If she doesn’t sell, then make her free, because if Grandpa hadn’t said I could only get the company shares by marrying her, I’d think she was too filthy to even look at.” “I heard Chloe argued with Ethan for days over Evelyn and wouldn’t even let Ethan into her bed, and if he hadn’t come up with the idea of auctioning off the wedding night, Chloe would probably still be mad.” “She upset Chloe the moment she got out, so she really does deserve a lesson.” Ethan gave a disdainful sneer. “What kind of lesson is this?” “Evelyn spent seven years in prison, seven full years without touching a man, so she must be dying of loneliness by now.” “And she has always had strong needs, since she used to tempt me so badly that I wouldn’t leave the bedroom for days.” Ethan kept looking down and scrolling through his phone, then suddenly curled his lips and said, “Found it.” After saying that, he lifted his phone. “There’s video proof.” “This is a video from before Evelyn went to prison, and back then we were together every day, but she still wouldn’t let me rest.” “Now that she’s been lonely for seven years, I’m sure she’s even wilder.” Broken, breathy moans came from the phone, making everyone present flush. Then his friends whistled like hooligans, and their laughter and shrieks rose wave after wave. Ethan’s expression stayed calm, as if the person at the center of the topic had nothing to do with him. Amid the overwhelming mockery, tears rolled down my face, and my whole body trembled uncontrollably. Ethan was not like this before. I was a child sponsored by the Foster family, and I had followed Ethan around since I was little. In name, I was his playmate, but in reality, I was a bodyguard trained specifically to protect him. When I was eighteen, he took my body while drunk. From then on, I had another identity, Ethan Foster’s bed partner. I knew I could never climb into the Foster family’s world, so I never dared to have any other thoughts. But Ethan refused to accept that. When he was young, his love was passionate and sincere, and he swore again and again that he would marry me and give me a home. During those years, everyone in the city knew it. The eldest son of the Foster family, Ethan Foster, had a girl he loved down to his bones. Until Ethan was kidnapped. I broke into an abandoned factory alone to save him. Everything had been going smoothly, but just before we left, one of the kidnappers touched my calf. That one touch made Ethan’s expression change on the spot. He chopped off the kidnapper’s right hand, then stabbed a knife into his heart. Even though the Foster family was powerful and influential, killing someone still meant paying with a life. Ethan was the only son, the lifeblood of the Foster family. Because of that, Grandpa Foster came to me and asked me to take the blame and go to prison for Ethan. In return, once I finished my sentence and was released, the Foster family would acknowledge me as their daughter-in-law. Grandpa Foster had shown me kindness, and Ethan was the man I loved. After sitting in silence for an entire night, I signed the confession. Before I went to prison, Ethan knelt in front of me and cried bitterly.

“Evelyn, when you get out, I will make it up to you with the grandest wedding.” His vow still rang in my ears, but the man before me was no longer the man from back then. No wonder he often hid from me to make phone calls, and each call lasted all night. No wonder he insisted on sleeping in separate rooms from me, and he would not even eat at the same table with me. No wonder whenever he accidentally touched me, he sprang away as if he had been burned. How ridiculous that I only thought he was having trouble adjusting, so I lay in bed waiting for him in the lingerie he had once loved most. That day, Ethan flew into a rage, dragged me into the bathroom, and threw a steel wool scrubber at me. “You just got out of prison, so it’s impossible for you not to be dirty, and we’ll talk after you wash yourself clean.” After my whole body was scrubbed until the skin peeled, I curled up in the corner while tears slid down together with blood. Just as my heart was about to die, he carried me back to the bedroom and promised to give me a wedding night I would never forget. Naively, I thought he had finally changed his mind. It turned out he had only thought of an even more humiliating way to shame me. Seven years was too long. So long that the man I loved had become completely unrecognizable. Since that was the case, I would let go. Holding back the sharp pain in my heart, I called Grandpa Foster and spoke numbly. “My wedding night has been put up for auction, Grandpa, and Ethan doesn’t love me anymore, so please let me leave.” It was nearly dawn when Ethan came home. For once, he entered my bedroom and called my name in a hoarse voice. I had already gone to sleep, and his voice startled me awake, leaving me full of annoyance, but the moment I met his eyes, that anger somehow faded. Ethan and I had once had feelings for each other. When our love had been at its strongest, he had always looked at me with those eyes and said I was the most beautiful girl in the world, the one who moved his heart the most. As if possessed, I reached out and touched his brows and eyes. But when I remembered the filthy things he and his friends had said, my hand stopped halfway, then snapped back. “It’s late, so hurry up and rest.” When he heard me say that, he frowned, but he still coaxed me patiently. “Evelyn, I was wrong these past few days, and I didn’t take good care of you.” “I didn’t even notice your lips were cracked, so I made you honey water specially, come on, try some.” Sensing something strange about him, I resisted. But as soon as I turned over and got out of bed to run, the man grabbed my calf and dragged me back. “I made it with my own hands, so drink it before you leave.” He pinched my chin, forced my mouth open, and poured all the honey water into my mouth. “Cough, cough,” I choked until my face turned red and coughed violently. When I looked up again, Ethan had doubled in my vision, and my head had become heavy and dizzy. He had drugged the water. When I regained consciousness, I was tied to a European-style high-backed chair with only a layer of thin gauze draped over me. Several unsightly tags were wrapped around my ankles. Murderer, new Foster bride, cheap goods. Ethan’s assistant had even thoughtfully noted my measurements, accurate to two decimal places. The seats below the stage were filled with people, and their gazes fell over me without restraint, as if they wished they could devour me clean with their eyes. “Mr. Foster really is thoughtful, since he was worried no one would dare take a murderer like this, so he even let us inspect the merchandise first.” “Evelyn may be a little older, but her body is seriously amazing, with that tiny waist and those long legs, and I can barely hold myself back now.” “Although the starting bid is only one dollar, there are so many rich men and big shots here tonight that who knows how much it’ll cost to take her away, so I might as well feast my eyes first.”

Those filthy words were like countless sharp knives, stabbing straight into me and slicing away my dignity inch by inch. In the shadows at one corner of the auction hall, Ethan and a girl leaned together intimately. That must have been Chloe, the woman his friends had mentioned. I could not lift my eyelids, so I could only narrow my eyes and look over. The girl had long hair and wore a white dress, and from a distance, she looked somewhat like me when I was young. I did not know what she said, but it made the man beside her darken his gaze, his face full of desire. He picked the girl up in his arms and walked straight into the lounge backstage. After he had only taken a few steps, one of his friends asked, “Ethan, your wife is still here, so where are you going?” Without looking back, Ethan threw out one sentence. “Chloe is hungry, so I’m going to feed her.” Then he paused and ordered coldly, “Evelyn took the drug, so she won’t know what happens tonight, and after the inspection is over, just find someone to throw her back home, but none of you are allowed to disturb my fun.” Tears slid silently from the corners of my eyes. My heart kept falling until it fell into a bottomless abyss and made no more sound. Ethan thought that under the effect of the drug, I would not remember anything. But he did not know that so I could better protect Ethan, Grandpa Foster had long ago trained me to resist ether-type drugs. The lounge door closed with a bang. Without Ethan present, the words of the men below the stage became even more explicit. Someone even slowly approached me, the desire in his eyes completely undisguised. The gauze was torn away, and several greasy hands roamed freely over my body at the same time. Just when I was drowning in despair, someone glanced at the lounge door. Perhaps thinking of how Ethan had once protected me, they did not dare to truly do anything. The bitterness in my heart spread little by little. Ethan, who had once been jealous if someone so much as looked at me, now placed me in such a humiliating place and let others bully me. My mind grew hazy, and I did not know when I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in my own bedroom with my pajamas intact. If not for the faint red marks still left on my wrists, I probably would have thought everything from last night was an absurd nightmare. Before I could gather myself, the bedroom door opened, and more than a dozen people rushed in at once. They hurriedly dragged me up. They did my makeup while changing me into a wedding dress. Only then did I realize in a daze that the day of my wedding to Ethan had arrived. After I changed into the wedding dress, I discovered that it was not the one I had originally chosen. The neckline of the dress I was wearing was extremely low, and without lowering my head, half of my pale chest could be seen. I was ashamed and angry, and my hands instinctively covered my chest tightly. But the woman in charge was not satisfied and forcefully pulled my hands away. “Miss Harper spent a few years in prison, and now she really has no manners at all, because what bride acts so timid at her own wedding and doesn’t even fear embarrassing the Foster family?” “This is the wedding dress Mr. Foster personally chose for you, and he said it suits a woman like you best.” I gritted my teeth as tears swirled in my eyes. Life in prison had been extremely hard, but every time I thought that after I got out, I could become Ethan’s wife openly and properly, I found the strength to keep going. It turned out the love of our youth had trapped only me from beginning to end. In a daze, I was dragged and shoved all the way to the wedding venue.

The guests were all prominent New York families, and they were dressed appropriately. Only I wore a wedding dress that barely covered my private parts, like a ridiculous clown, unsure of what to do under everyone’s gaze. As soon as he saw me, Ethan brought the girl from last night forward. “This is Chloe, the neighbor girl I grew up with, and she’s here today to be your bridesmaid.” Now even his lies were this careless and perfunctory. We had grown up together, so how could I not know whether he had some neighbor girl? What was more, the train of Chloe’s bridesmaid dress was a full ten feet long and covered in rhinestones. On her ring finger was a fourteen-carat Oppenheimer pink diamond. I remembered it, because it was the pink diamond Ethan had used to propose to me on the day I was released from prison. Only back then, he had said the pink diamond ring was expensive, so he would personally put it on me on our wedding day. No bridesmaid in the world was more glamorous than the bride. Unless she was not a bridesmaid, but the woman the groom truly wanted to marry. I did not expose him and simply looked at Ethan’s features from across the space between us. The man who had sworn again and again that he would marry no one but me had died long ago. Inside this body now was a completely unfamiliar soul. Perhaps I stayed silent for too long, because Chloe stepped forward and warmly linked her arm with mine. “Your figure is seriously amazing, and this wedding dress is such a good choice today, because it shows off your whole body so well that even a girl like me is about to get a nosebleed.” The next second, a burst of laughter suddenly rang through the banquet hall. “The Foster family’s new daughter-in-law really is shameless enough, dressing like that after being in prison, and I have no idea how Mr. Foster could have fallen for her.” “She came up to a perfectly good wedding dressed like this, like some cheap hooker, and she really can’t be brought into high society.” Mockery louder than the last was like a sharp blade, stabbing straight into my heart and making me hurt so badly that I could barely breathe. My face darkened, and I shoved Chloe away. “Since you like it so much, you can wear it instead.” Ethan protected Chloe in his arms and frowned, clearly a little displeased. “What do you mean by that?” “Chloe was complimenting your figure, so why are you being so passive-aggressive here?” “You’ve been in prison so long that you’re out of touch with society, and you can’t even tell good words from bad.” Prison, prison, prison again. Ethan had probably long forgotten that if it were not for me, those two words should have been nailed to him instead. Seeing that my face was still cold, Chloe raised a wineglass to me. “What I said just now was wrong.” “Come on, I’ll toast you, and consider it my apology.” Staring at the slightly cloudy liquid in the glass, alarm bells went off in my heart. When I looked up again, I realized everyone present had their eyes locked tightly on me. Thinking of last night’s cup of honey water, I understood at once. Yesterday was the inspection, and today was the official auction. “What, are you not going to give me this little bit of respect?” Chloe urged sweetly, with a hint of grievance in her tone. “Drink this wine yourself,” I said coldly, “because I don’t dare drink anything you offer.” Chloe’s face instantly became very ugly, and she turned to look at Ethan with tears filling her eyes. “Ethan, Evelyn, she…” Ethan frowned and stepped forward. “Evelyn Harper, don’t go too far.” “Chloe only wants to make peace with you, so why do you have to be so aggressive?” I looked directly into his eyes and asked each word slowly. “What exactly are you trying to do?” Guilt flashed through the man’s eyes, then he took the wineglass from Chloe’s hand and approached me step by step. I kept backing away until my back pressed against the cold wall and there was nowhere left to retreat. “Ethan Foster, do you want to force it into my mouth again like you did last night?” As soon as I finished speaking, he pinched my chin again. The wineglass in his hand was lifted high, the wine sloshed, and the next second, it all poured into my mouth. The cold wine flowed down the corners of my mouth, soaked the front of my wedding dress, then ran into my neck. Soon, under the effect of the drug, my consciousness became blurry again. Everything before my eyes grew shadowy, and Ethan and Chloe’s figures twisted in my blurred vision. I wanted to resist, and I wanted to call for help. But my body would not obey me, and my limbs were soft and powerless, so I could only let myself slide to the floor. My reaction stirred up everyone present into a frenzy. They cheered and screamed as they surrounded me in the middle. I did not know who squatted down and blew smoke into my face, and a cold lighter slapped my face hard twice. “We finally waited until the official auction, and after seeing you last night, you’ve been stuck in my head the whole time, making me wish I could have you right away.” “Baby, even though you just got out of prison, plenty of people are bidding on you, and I heard the price has already reached seven figures.”

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After our divorce, I moved thirty-three times. To win me back, my ex-husband slit his wrists, jumped into a river, swallowed sleeping pills, and even slit his throat right in front of me. In the end, I gave in. We got remarried. For the past three years, he seemed like a changed man. He changed all his passwords to my birthday. He handed over his paychecks. He shared his real-time location with me twenty-four hours a day, taking meticulous care of me and our daughter. Until late last night, when I glanced at his iPad and noticed he had forgotten to log out of his burner Snapchat account. A message from Chloe popped up: “Did you still not touch her tonight? Ugh, I missed out on another live show.” He replied almost instantly: “I haven’t touched her since she got pregnant.” “Stop watching the security feed and go to sleep. If you stay up late again, you’ll feel terrible tomorrow.” It turned out the camera in our bedroom was never meant for monitoring our baby. It was to prove his “innocence” to her. This time, I will not let him drag me down again.

From the bedroom, I could hear Ethan’s soft, patient voice singing a lullaby to our daughter, Lily. But I felt ice cold. The thought of me breastfeeding Lily in that room every day, completely exposed and off-guard, while the person I hated most watched the entire thing… It made me want to throw up. Hearing me gasp, Ethan rushed out of the room. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again?” He frowned, concern written all over his face. I calmly locked the iPad screen. “My stomach hurts a bit. Can you get me a glass of water?” He did so immediately, carefully holding the glass to my lips. “Better?” When I didn’t answer, he gently touched my cheek, then my forehead. “Still feeling bad? Do you want to go to the hospital?” I looked into his eyes, searching for the warmth that now felt so fake. I spoke softly. “Ethan, are you still in touch with Chloe?” His eyes flickered. “Of course not. We haven’t spoken in years. Why would you ask that?” Seeing my silence, his eyes welled up with tears. He dropped to his knees, his voice cracking with desperation. “I promised you I’d cut her off, and I meant it. Clara, please don’t leave me again.” “Did I do something wrong? Did I make you doubt me?” I dug my nails into my palms, fighting back the tremors racking my body. I forced a tiny smile. “It’s nothing. I just suddenly thought of the past.” He let out a long sigh of relief, taking my hand and pulling me back toward the bedroom. “You always overthink when you can’t sleep,” he teased gently. We lay down, and he reached out to pull me into his arms, as he always did. My body reacted before my brain could. I flinched away, turning my back to him. “It’s too hot.” He paused for a second, then picked up the remote and lowered the AC by two degrees. “Clara, I’ve changed. You can’t keep punishing me based on baseless suspicions.” I said nothing. A long time passed. He probably thought I had fallen asleep. In the darkness, the glow of a phone screen lit up. The sound of fast typing was incredibly sharp in the quiet room. It was quick, accompanied by a faint, amused chuckle under his breath. I couldn’t sleep. Tears slipped silently down my cheeks, soaking the pillow. I stayed awake all night. The next morning, before he left for work, he kissed my forehead. “Don’t let your mind wander while you’re home alone. Call me immediately if you feel sick.” The moment the front door clicked shut, I bolted to the bathroom and threw up. A few minutes later. I turned on the faucet, washing the sour taste from my mouth. Walking back to the living room, I opened the iPad. The chat logs between him and Chloe showed a level of intimacy that proved they had never actually stopped talking. It was just like three years ago, when I caught them pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window of a hotel room, completely tangled up in each other. I bit my tongue hard, forcing my eyes open to read every single word. I watched as the man who refused to touch me after I got pregnant under the guise of “safety” discussed buying kinky sex toys with Chloe. I watched as the man who refused to let me accompany him on business trips because he “didn’t want to get distracted” took Chloe to out-of-town conferences, treating her to luxurious vacations. When Chloe asked him, “Who do you like better, Clara or me?” he replied instantly: “Her body is ruined after the pregnancy. She doesn’t compare to you.” Just one sentence. It completely destroyed me, the woman who had let her guard down to remarry him and bear his child. I was nailed to a cross of absolute humiliation. My tears splashed onto the screen, blurring the words. I opened my phone, pulled back my resignation letter, and submitted an application for an overseas transfer. My manager, Marcus, called me almost immediately. “Clara, I’m thrilled you want to come back. But a transfer to New York? Are you sure?” “This is a highly confidential project. Even though you can bring your family, you won’t be allowed to have any contact with the outside world for at least three years.” I gently stroked Lily’s sleeping face. “I’m sure.” This time, I would take my baby and disappear. Ethan would never find me. Just as I hung up, another message from Chloe popped up on Ethan’s iPad. “Ethan, you promised me. Once Clara gives birth to our baby, you’ll divorce her. When is that happening?” “Lily isn’t weaned yet. We have to wait until she’s at least two.” “Then promise me you won’t touch Clara again. Now that the baby is here, she’s off-limits.” My hands and feet went completely numb as I stared at the screen. So, the only reason he begged me to remarry him was because Chloe wanted a baby. But she was terrified of the pain, and she didn’t want stretch marks. So he suggested that I should be the one to carry it. “Clara is family, we can trust her. Once the baby is born, I’ll divorce her and take full custody.” I suddenly burst out laughing. But as I laughed, my throat felt like it was being choked.

For the past three years, everyone said Ethan loved me to death. He would drive four hours in the middle of the night just to get me the specific cinnamon rolls I suddenly craved. When I ran a high fever, he didn’t sleep for three days and three nights. Once my fever broke, he collapsed from exhaustion. During my pregnancy, when my legs cramped, he massaged them every single night before bed, only sneaking out to the living room to put ice packs on his sore hands after I fell asleep. It turned out all this devotion was just the compensation he paid me for being his surrogate. How pathetic. I had actually felt so bad for him balancing work and taking care of us that I planned to resign and become a full-time stay-at-home mom. As I sat in a daze, another notification chimed. “I saw you gave her a necklace in the bedroom the other day. Didn’t you say you bought that for me?” “If you want it, I’ll buy you another one.” She seemed to get upset. “That’s not the point! Why did you give her something you promised me?” “And last time, you said you’d watch a movie with me, but you stood me up because her breasts were engorged. You ran across the city to find her a lactation consultant. I waited until the movie ended, and you never showed.” “Are you being too nice to her?” He remained silent for a long time before replying. “Chloe, she is still your sister, not your enemy. We did her wrong. I’m just trying to make up for it.” Reading his words, I only felt a deep sense of irony. Chloe was supposed to be my closest family. Our parents passed away early, and I had taken on the burden of raising her from a very young age, which made me mature and reserved. Ethan used to say he loved my quiet elegance, but after meeting Chloe, he changed his tune, saying girls should be lively and free-spirited. I wasn’t blind to his special treatment of her. But when I asked him to keep his distance from my sister, he only laughed and ruffled my hair. He told me not to be petty, asking why I was jealous of my own sister. The things that followed were so dramatic that I hadn’t let myself think about them for a long time. They got closer and closer, eventually sharing the same straw. When we first got married, he even chose a wedding ring style that she liked. On our first anniversary, I walked in on them wrapped around each other. Chloe only stared back at me with a mocking look in her eyes. When I screamed and demanded to know why, her voice was quiet and cold: “You’re my sister. You’re supposed to share everything with me.” And Ethan? He shielded her behind his back, remaining completely silent. I couldn’t handle being betrayed by the two most important people in my life. I divorced him and blocked them both. I thought we would never cross paths again. But he went to such extreme lengths to get me back that my heart softened. Thinking about it now, I laughed like a fool, my tears falling uncontrollably. I was so stupid. Stupid enough to believe he had repented. Stupid enough to believe he actually cared. But once you peeled back the mask, the core was completely rotten. Thankfully, there was still time. After deciding to leave, I began clearing out my things. This house was decorated according to my taste. I chose most of the furniture. Ethan had said he wanted me to feel comfortable, to feel happy the moment I opened my eyes and came home. I chose the dusty blue curtains. I sat on dozens of sofas before choosing this one. The paintings on the wall, I had only glanced at them once, and he immediately bought them. Now that I thought about it, this wasn’t a home. It was a golden cage tailored specifically for me. The things I once loved now made me sick to look at. I stuffed them all into black trash bags. After clearing the clutter, I pulled out my suitcase and packed only the essentials. Ethan walked in, his brow furrowing as he looked around. “Why does the house look so empty?” I didn’t look up, continuing to pack. “Just getting rid of old things. I’m planning to buy some new stuff.” “As long as it makes you happy. Let me know if you need money.” His eyes drifted to my empty vanity. “I’m going on a business trip in a few days. Do you want me to bring you anything from the duty-free shop?” “No, thank you.” “Didn’t you say you wanted that designer face cream last time?” I gently patted Lily’s back to soothe her to sleep, my voice flat. “I don’t really want it anymore.” The things, the people, I didn’t want any of it anymore.

Before the overseas transfer, accompanying family members also needed a physical exam. After taking Lily for her checkup, I was waiting for the results when I saw Ethan and Chloe standing near the fever clinic. She was speaking in a whiny, nasal voice. “It’s all your fault. You kept the car AC so high yesterday, and now I have a fever.” He pinched her nose playfully. “Who was the one begging to do it in the car? Take this as a lesson. Don’t do it again.” The loudspeaker called his name, and his phone rang at the same time, so he didn’t go in with her. He hung up, turned around, and saw me standing there quietly. The moment our eyes met, he froze. Then, he quickly walked over. “Clara? What are you doing here? Is Lily sick?” He reached out to touch Lily’s face, but I took a step back, my voice calm and even. “Company physicals. I brought Lily along.” “Oh,” he glanced toward the clinic room, offering an unprompted explanation. “A client of mine got sick. I came to accompany them.” I didn’t ask what kind of client was so important that the CEO himself had to accompany them to a fever clinic. “I’m heading home first.” Before he could answer, I turned and walked away without looking back. I didn’t see the complicated look in his eyes behind me. That evening, he came home much earlier than usual. I was sitting in the living room watching TV, ignoring him. He walked over, holding a cake box. “Clara, didn’t you say you wanted to try the cake from this bakery? I took a detour after work to get it for you.” I glanced at the logo. I didn’t recognize the brand. But I had seen it on Chloe’s Instagram page a couple of days ago. The bakery was in the suburbs, miles away from his office. I smiled faintly. When you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned eventually. Seeing me smile, he thought I was happy. “Go ahead, try it.” He handed me a spoon. I didn’t take it, my smile vanishing. “Ethan, I never said I wanted to eat this.” He froze. I rarely called him by his first name. “I… I must have misremembered,” his breathing turned shallow, and he leaned in to kiss me. “Don’t be mad. Tell me what you want, and I’ll go buy it right now.” I pulled away. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” The color drained from his face. “Just because of a cake?” I didn’t feel like making up an excuse. I stood up. “Sure. Let’s go with that.” “Where would you even go if we divorced?” Seeing me walk toward the bedroom, he snapped, his words turning sharp and desperate. “Who would want a divorced woman with a kid?” My footsteps halted. The air in the room grew suffocatingly quiet. “I didn’t mean that…” his voice panicked. “I just… I can’t accept you wanting a divorce.” His eyes darted to the fruit knife on the table. He grabbed it, pressing the blade against his wrist. “You know how hard it was for me to get you back. You can’t break your promise.” I stared at his bloodshot eyes. I wanted to tell him that he was the one who broke his promise. But I realized it was pointless. In the silence, the blade pierced his skin, and bright red blood began to ooze out. This old trick might have made my heart ache in the past. But now, I felt nothing but numbness. Since a mutual divorce agreement was out of the question, I would have to take him to court. I took a deep breath and forced a relaxed smile. “I was just kidding. I was just a little upset because I saw you with another woman at the hospital today.” “I told you, she was just a client,” he let out a huge sigh of relief, dropping the knife. “What’s wrong with you lately? You’re always overthinking.” “Probably just postpartum mood swings,” I said quietly, turning to walk into the guest bedroom. “Lily and I will sleep in here for a while. I need some space to clear my head.” I didn’t push further, and he didn’t say another word. Over the next few days, we tacitly avoided the topic, both of us busy with our own things. He was busy preparing for his business trip, and I was busy preparing to disappear. Before he left, he slid a heavy gold bracelet onto my wrist. “Wait for me to get back. I have something important to tell you.” It was a Vance family heirloom. I had seen it in his family’s vault registry in his study. He had never offered it to me before, and I didn’t know why he was giving it to me now. But I didn’t care. On my phone, Chloe’s Instagram was updating constantly. Her latest post was a photo of the sunset over the Seine. In the corner of the frame sat a half-empty coffee cup, and the edge of a sleeve was visible. The agate cufflink on the sleeve was the birthday gift I had given Ethan last year. Her caption read: “Twilight in Paris is so long, perfect for two people to walk slowly. I never want this business trip with you to end.” The posts before that were just as lively. One day she was taking a selfie with a crepe in front of the Louvre, the next she was posing under the Eiffel Tower at night. He made frequent appearances in her photos, tying her shoelaces, holding an umbrella for her. I screenshotted every single one of them. Chloe seemed very happy. No one would ever guess that she was actually an abandoned baby left near a bridge. My parents had adopted her and kept the secret until the day they died. I wondered how she would react when she finally found out the truth about her birth. On the day of my flight to New York, I left a thick folder and a signed divorce agreement on the coffee table. Next to them sat the heirloom bracelet and my wedding ring. I left a note: “I am taking an overseas transfer for at least three years. Review the agreement. If you agree, sign it and mail it to my company’s legal department. If not, we will proceed with a contested divorce after two years of separation.”

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There’s an unwritten rule in New York’s underground fight clubs. The final round is a fight to the death. The winner walks out alive. The loser leaves in a body bag. Everyone thought I’d be the one walking out safe. After all, for six straight months, my name had been solid at the top of the leaderboard. But I never expected to see Tyler Vance step into the ring. He was my mentor. The man who taught me every punch, every feint, every finishing move. Fighting him was suicide. The moment the whistle blew, a barrage of brutal, merciless strikes rained down on me. With a sickening crack of my ribs, I crashed heavily to the canvas. As the referee declared the match over, I heard Tyler let out a soft sigh. “Yesterday was Chloe’s birthday. She wanted to see me beat you just once.” “Her health is failing. The doctors said she might not make it to her next birthday.” “I had to grant her this one last wish.” Below the ring, Chloe Sinclair sat in her wheelchair. Her cheeks were flush with color, a smug smile playing on her lips. I lay on the cold floor, my chest barely moving. Even breathing was agony. I didn’t know if Chloe would survive until next year. But I knew for a fact that I wouldn’t survive the next three days. *** ###

The deafening roar of the crowd cut off instantly. The referee gently placed his hand on my shoulder. “Can you get up, Aria?” Lying there, I felt my shattered rib pierce into my lung. Every word I gasped out felt like swallowing glass. “Let it go, Marcus.” Losing to Tyler was a bitter pill, but I accepted it. After all, surviving in this cutthroat place for so long was entirely thanks to the moves he had taught me. Just last night, too excited to sleep, I had climbed up to the rooftop of the gym. The sky was filled with stars. Through my headphones, I could hear his deep, comforting breathing. My heart had been pounding like a drum, my voice trembling with hope. “Tomorrow is my final fight. Will you be there to watch?” I wanted Tyler to witness my ultimate victory. A soft chuckle had drifted from the other end of the line. “Of course I will.” He kept his word. He actually came. He personally replaced my opponent, personally stepped into the ring, and personally signed my death warrant. Tyler unstrapped his gloves, a few minor scratches on his handsome face from our brief struggle. He extended a long, vein-defined hand toward me. “Stop being dramatic. Get up. The ring is no place to show weakness.” “Cough, cough…” Just as I was about to reach for his hand, Chloe’s sharp coughing cut through the air. She hunched over, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Tyler’s brows furrowed instantly. He vaulted over the ropes without a second thought, rushing to her side to wrap a cashmere shawl around her shoulders. “The smell of blood is too strong here. You’re too weak to handle this. Let’s get you out.” His voice sounded reprimanding, but it was dripping with pure indulgence. “I told you not to come. If you wanted to know the result, I could have just texted you.” “When have I ever broken a promise to you?” He cradled Chloe protectively in his arms. As they reached the exit, he glanced back at me over his shoulder. “Stop playing dead. I pulled my punches. I know exactly how hard I hit.” “I know you’re just mad that I broke your winning streak.” “I’ll pick you up tomorrow and take you to that steakhouse you love.” He was doing what he always did—trying to brush our conflicts under the rug with a free meal. I closed my eyes. But this time, it was different. After they left, Coach Marcus helped me limp off the stage, begging me to go to the hospital. When I peeled off my shirt, my torso was covered in horrific, dark bruises. *** ###

The purple-and-black bruising looked absolutely terrifying. Tyler’s punches had been exceptionally heavy today. I splashed some rubbing alcohol over the cuts and tightly wrapped a compression bandage around my chest. Only then did I find the strength to speak. “I don’t have many days left anyway. Let’s not waste the money.” “I need to save every penny for Grandma Eleanor’s medical bills.” I cast my eyes down, forcing a weak smile. In my head, I began calculating the remaining balance on my card, wondering if it was enough to cover Grandma’s next few rounds of chemotherapy. Suddenly, my phone lit up with a push notification. The cover photo of the trending article showed Tyler carrying Chloe in his arms out of the fight arena. The headline was massive and eye-catching: *Sparks Fly: Billionaire Heir Tyler Vance and Chloe Sinclair Take Their Romance Public!* Whether intentionally or not, Chloe had liked the post on Instagram before quickly unliking it. Marcus stood beside me, his voice cracking with rage. “These damn paparazzi keep making up lies! You’re Tyler’s actual girlfriend! She’s just a—” I flipped my phone face down on the table, a bitter taste in my mouth. “They come from the same social circle. They look good together. It’s a perfect match.” While I sat there dazed, the door to the locker room was slammed open. One of our neighbors stood there, panting and frantic. “Aria, this is bad!” “The Sinclair Group just bought out the Riverside District. They’re tearing the whole neighborhood down to build luxury condos, and they’re forcing everyone out.” “Your grandma… they threw her out on the street!” I stood up so fast that a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my chest, making me gasp. After taking a few seconds to catch my breath, I threw on a jacket and sprinted out. The sky outside was heavy and gray, threatening to snow at any second. When I arrived home, the street was in utter chaos. Grandma was sitting on the freezing ground. Our few pieces of cheap furniture had been smashed to splinters. Several men in sharp suits were pinning Grandma’s hand down, trying to force her thumbprint onto a contract. “Get your hands off her!” I grabbed a broken broom handle and swung it wildly at them, forcing them to back off as I threw myself protectively over Grandma. In the scuffle, the contract fluttered to the ground, stained with dirty boot prints. I looked down at it. The compensation line read a glaring, mocking **$0**. Rage boiled in my veins. I glared at the suits. “This is robbery!” A neighbor opened their door and peeked out. “Aria, just tell your grandma to sign it. The five-hundred-thousand buyout is enough to pay for her hospital bills.” My brain went numb. My voice was dry. “What five-hundred-thousand buyout?” The neighbor looked confused. “The relocation package. The Sinclair Group is offering that same flat rate to everyone in the neighborhood.” I turned my glaring eyes to the lead suit. “Why is ours zero?” The man sneered, adjusting his tie. “You only have yourself to blame for crossing the wrong person. Consider this a lesson in respect.” “I suggest you sign it quietly. Otherwise, with how sick your old lady is, I doubt she can survive us hounding her every day.” My heart sank into a dark abyss. The person I shouldn’t have crossed… the Sinclair Group. “Was this Chloe’s idea?” The men didn’t deny it. Their silence was answer enough. I remembered the night Tyler proposed to me. Chloe, who had always been perfectly healthy, suddenly fell critically ill and was rushed to the ICU. The entire Sinclair family went into a frenzy. When the call came in, Tyler was in the middle of fastening his family’s heirloom diamond necklace around my neck. “Chloe is in trouble.” Leaving me with only those words, he turned and ran without looking back. When I saw him the next day, that exact necklace was already hanging around Chloe’s neck. Tyler had stood in front of her like a shield, treating me as if I were some kind of monster. “Chloe fell in love with the necklace. I’m just letting her wear it for a bit.” *** ###

Seeing that I didn’t respond, his expression had darkened. “Since when did you become so petty? She’s a dying girl, Aria. Don’t pick a fight with her.” Chloe had grabbed my hand, her other hand gently stroking the diamond pendant. “I don’t have much time left anyway, Aria. Please don’t be mad at me.” Her voice was incredibly fragile, but her sharp fingernails dug deep into my palm, leaving bloody crescent marks. It was on that day that I fully realized Chloe’s sick obsession with Tyler. She hated me. She hated that I, a nobody, had taken her place. But I never imagined her hatred would drive her to put me and my family on a literal death path. After the suits left, I turned around and slowly helped Grandma off the cold ground. As we walked into the ruined house, the distant sky suddenly erupted with brilliant, dazzling fireworks. It was beautiful and grand. I looked up, noticing that the first snow of the year had quietly started to fall. Back in late autumn, Tyler had held my hand and made a promise. “When the first snow falls, I’m going to throw the most magnificent fireworks show for you.” “I want the whole city to witness our happiness.” Now, the snow was falling. But the fireworks and the man no longer belonged to me. Due to the extreme shock, Grandma ran a dangerously high fever that very night. Left with no other choice, my hands shook violently as I dialed Tyler’s number. The phone rang for a long time before he finally picked up. “Tyler, Grandma is…” Before I could finish, his exhausted, irritated voice cut me off. “Are you seriously using the ‘Grandma is sick’ excuse again to make me come over?” “Aria, this trick is getting really old.” The rest of my words choked in my throat, completely blocked. Tyler continued, “Chloe is just finishing her bath. She can’t sleep lately without me reading to her.” “Have some decency and show some compassion to a dying girl. Stop throwing these pathetic tantrums.” I lowered my head, hot tears splashing onto the back of my hand one by one. I still remembered the very first time I stepped into the underground ring. I had been beaten to a pulp. When I was dragged off the canvas, my face was swollen beyond recognition. As I huddled in a dark corner of the locker room, a clean white handkerchief was suddenly offered to me. Tyler had stood there, blocking the harsh overhead light, his voice softer than silk. “Clean yourself up.” After that, he was the one who applied my ointment, accompanied me to visit Grandma, and taught me how to use my body’s leverage to deliver the most devastating punches. After my first win, he had pulled my head into his chest in front of everyone, his warm breath tickling my ear. “From now on, you can lean on me.” I actually believed him. Looking back now, I was such a fool. Grandma lay on the bed, her breath growing hotter and more labored by the minute. I wiped away my tears, walked outside, and pulled out our old, rusty utility cart. I lined it with a thick blanket. Then, gritting my teeth through the agonizing pain in my chest, I carried Grandma on my back and laid her gently in the cart. The snow on the road was thick and heavy. I dragged the cart, my boots sinking deep into the snow with every agonizing step. By the time we reached the hospital doors, I had completely lost all sensation in my limbs. A team of doctors rushed out to wheel her in. Soon, the red light of the operating room turned on. I leaned against the wall, my eyes staring blankly at the door. The snow on my shoulders had melted into freezing water, soaking through my thin jacket. Thankfully, the doctor’s words gave me a glimmer of hope when he walked out. “We’ve stabilized her for now, but she needs to start the next phase of treatment immediately.” My heart hammered with anxiety. “How much will the subsequent treatment cost?” “Around a hundred thousand dollars.” I let out a sigh of relief. *** ###

Over the past two years, I had barely taken a break, fighting match after match. The money I had saved up was just enough to cover the hundred thousand. When I entered the ward, Grandma had already regained consciousness. “Aria… Grandma is a burden to you again.” I shook my head, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. I pulled out my bank card and tucked it safely under her pillow. “Grandma, use this card to pay for your treatments. When I’m not here, you have to take good care of yourself.” The next day, while waiting in line at the hospital pharmacy, I bumped into Chloe. “Oh, Aria. What a coincidence.” “I had a slight headache last night, but Tyler insisted on bringing me to the hospital for a full checkup today.” I clenched my jaw, refusing to engage with her. But when I returned to the ward, my heart stopped. Grandma was lying on the cold floor, having fallen out of bed. “Grandma!” Grandma’s hands were shaking violently, and she was crying hysterically, clutching her head in distress. I grabbed her hands, my stomach dropping. “What happened?” Tears poured down her wrinkled face as her lips trembled. “Some men… they broke into the room just now and took the card.” “It’s my fault… I’m so useless! I couldn’t protect your hard-earned money!” She kept sobbing, her face pale with helplessness and despair. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My vision began to go black. Grandma grabbed my arm, her eyes filled with terror. “They were the same men… the ones who came to tear down our house yesterday!” I instantly pictured Chloe’s smug smile downstairs. It was her! I turned and bolted out of the room. In the distance, I spotted the familiar silhouette in the wheelchair. “Chloe Sinclair!” I ran up to her, my eyes bloodshot, and demanded, “Give me my card back!” She tilted her head, her face a mask of sweet innocence. “Aria? What are you talking about? I don’t understand.” “Stop lying!” I grabbed the armrest of her wheelchair, begging desperately, “Do whatever you want to me! I don’t care about Tyler anymore, you can have him! Just give me my money back!” “Please, I need that money to save my grandma!” She stared at me for a second. Suddenly, her eyes welled with tears, and her shoulders began to shake. “Aria… you’re scaring me…” The next second, a powerful force shoved me violently to the side. Tyler grabbed my arm, his eyes burning with pure fury. “You really never learn, do you? Harassing Chloe at the hospital?” “I guess I went too easy on you in the ring yesterday.” I let out a hollow laugh that sent a stabbing pain through my chest. I looked at him with dead, empty eyes. “I just want her to give my money back.” Tyler’s brow furrowed. “You lost your money?” “If your money is gone, you can earn it back. Why the hell are you taking it out on Chloe?” I wrenched my arm out of his grip, screaming in absolute despair, “There is no time! I don’t have the time to earn it back!” Tyler’s temper flared, and he slapped me hard across the face. “What do you mean ‘no time’?” “I’ve spoiled you for too long, and now you’ve just gotten lazy!” “You’re nothing but a pathetic piece of trash!” Once, he had called me a wild flower—resilient, unique, and beautiful. He said that was why he fell for me. Now, he called me trash. I swallowed the metallic taste of blood rising in my throat. He turned and began pushing Chloe’s wheelchair away. “I am so incredibly disappointed in you, Aria.” My body went rigid, but I didn’t miss the fleeting look of triumph in Chloe’s eyes. And there, slipping slightly from the sleeve of her coat, was a flash of my familiar blue bank card.

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In my past life, I desperately tried to stop Lucas from donating his kidney to Chloe, the girl he worshipped. Because he couldn’t receive the transplant in time, Chloe passed away three days later. Lucas kept his kidney and eventually joined a prestigious NASA-affiliated aerospace program. He had a brilliant, limitless future ahead of him. But he hated me for the rest of his life. My parents told me I was cold-blooded. They said I murdered Chloe and ruined Lucas’s chance at a perfect life. Later, they ruined my college graduation opportunities and sabotaged my career. I ended up dying alone from an untreated illness in a damp, rented room. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Lucas was about to sign the organ donation consent form. This time, I didn’t stop him. I just quietly turned on the voice recorder on my phone and asked calmly, “Lucas, do you confirm that you fully understand all the risks? And do you promise you won’t hold it against me in the future?” On the table in the transplant center’s meeting room sat a thick stack of files. The top page was the Living Organ Donor Informed Consent Form. My brother, Lucas, gripped a black pen, his knuckles turning white. In my past life, today was exactly the same. I had burst into the room and snatched the pen out of his hand. I had said, “Lucas, you can’t do this. You have your physical exam for the astronaut program next month. You’ve had high blood pressure and protein in your urine. The doctor said your risk is way higher than a normal person’s.” I had screamed until my throat was hoarse. And Lucas had hesitated. The surgery was eventually canceled. Chloe only lasted three days. After she died, I became the ultimate sinner of the family. Lucas’s career went incredibly smooth after that. But every time he got a promotion, every time he won an award, every time people praised him for being a young genius, he would stab me with his words: “If it wasn’t for you, Chloe would be alive to see this.” My parents were the same. They enjoyed the glory of Lucas’s health and success, yet they blamed Chloe’s death entirely on me. They took away my tuition money, forced me to give up my opportunities for Lucas, and sabotaged my job interviews and relationships. They said I owed Chloe a life. Until the day I died, they never picked up my last phone call. Now, I was back at the exact moment before Lucas put pen to paper. Seeing me walk in, my mother instantly blocked Lucas. “Hazel, I’m warning you. If you make a scene today, I will never forgive you.” My dad looked at me with a cold face. “Lucas is saving a life. It’s a good deed. Don’t embarrass yourself with your selfish little thoughts.” I almost laughed out loud. In my past life, when I stopped him, they had actually let out a sigh of relief. But after Chloe died, they didn’t want to admit they were terrified of their son getting hurt. So, they needed a villain. Lucas looked up at me. “Hazel, I know you don’t like Chloe, but she really can’t hold on much longer.” Chloe, pale and weak in her wheelchair, looked at me. “Hazel, please don’t blame Lucas. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t be a burden to him…” Lucas’s heart broke for her, just like I knew it would. “Chloe, don’t say that.” My mom started crying too. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t be scared. We won’t just stand by and watch you die.” Everyone was waiting for me to lose my mind. They expected me to cry, beg, and scream like I did in my past life, taking all the blame onto myself. But this time, I didn’t. I took my phone out of my bag. I tapped the record button. My dad frowned. “What are you recording?” “Just keeping a record.” I placed the phone flat on the table. “No faces, just audio. I want to make sure nobody says I forced Lucas to donate in the future. And I definitely don’t want anyone saying I ruined his life by not stopping him.” My mom’s face twisted. “What is that supposed to mean? We’re family. Do you have to make things so ugly?” In my past life, when I was burning up with a fever and drifting in and out of consciousness, I called home seventeen times. No one answered. Back then, why didn’t they care about being “family”? The doctor sitting at the table looked a bit awkward. “Miss Miller, the hospital keeps records of the pre-op interview. You don’t need to be so nervous.” “I’m not nervous,” I said. “I just want every adult here to be responsible for the words that come out of their mouths.” Lucas stared at me coldly. “You’re disgusting.” In the past, those words would have made me shake with hurt. Not anymore. I looked at the pen in his hand. “Before you sign, I have a few questions.”

Suppressing his anger, Lucas sat down. “Ask.” I picked up the risk disclosure form the doctor had handed over earlier. I read it out loud, line by line. “First, after a kidney is removed, the donor needs long-term follow-ups and must avoid high-stress, high-intensity work. Are you aware of this?” Lucas gritted his teeth. “Yes.” “Second, you have a history of mild hypertension and occasional protein in your urine. Although your current tests look fine, your surgical risk is still elevated. Are you aware of this?” The doctor nodded. “We have explained this. It’s not an absolute disqualification, but the donor must be fully informed.” Lucas’s voice dropped a bit. “Yes, I know.” “Third, you are scheduled for the NASA Astronaut Candidate physical exam next month. That selection has strict requirements for kidney function, medication use, and physical stamina. After this donation, you will likely fail the medical clearance. Are you aware of this?” The room fell dead silent. My mom panicked first. “But didn’t the doctor say people can live a normal life with just one kidney?” The doctor sighed. “Mrs. Miller, a normal life and a specialized military-grade physical exam are two entirely different things. We explained this before.” My mom froze. In my past life, it was this very sentence that made her hesitate. But later, she conveniently forgot all about it. Lucas gripped the pen tighter. “I know.” I kept going. “Fourth, the surgery carries risks of bleeding, infection, and rare but serious anesthesia complications. Are you aware of this?” “Yes.” “Fifth, even after a successful transplant, Chloe will need lifelong immunosuppressant therapy. It is not a permanent cure. Are you aware of this?” This time, I looked directly at Chloe. “You answer.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “I… I know.” “Sixth, do you confirm that you are accepting Lucas’s donation entirely of your own free will, without any coercion from him or pressure from the Miller family?” Tears immediately spilled from Chloe’s eyes. “Hazel, why are you asking me this? How could I ever…” “Answer the question.” My voice was completely flat. She froze. In the past, as long as she cried, I would instantly become the bitter, cruel sister in everyone’s eyes. But today, I wasn’t giving her that power. She had to answer. “I confirm. I am accepting it willingly.” I nodded, then turned to my parents. “And you two? You fully support Lucas’s donation, right?” My dad said coldly, “He’s my son. He’s doing a noble thing. Of course we support him.” My mom hesitated for a fraction of a second. But quickly, she wiped her tears. “Yes. As long as it saves Chloe, we support him.” I pulled three copies of a supplemental confirmation agreement from my bag. I slid the papers across the table. “Sign here.” My dad slammed his hand on the table. “Hazel! You actually prepared this? Are you here to help, or are you here to scheme against your own family?” I looked up at him. “I’m not here to help.” The room became silent as a grave. I said every word clearly: “I am only here to witness your choices.” Lucas let out a cold laugh. “Fine. I’ll sign.” He grabbed the pen and scribbled his name. The scratch of the pen on paper sounded like he was slicing open his own future. My dad signed too. My mom’s hand shook as she signed. When it was Chloe’s turn, her tears dripped onto the paper, smudging the ink. “Hazel, do you really have to push us this far?” I looked at her. “I didn’t push any of you.” I gathered the papers, took photos of them, uploaded them to my Google Drive, and emailed them to my backup account. “You all said you were doing this willingly.” Outside the door, my aunt Clara whispered to another relative, “She’s so cold-blooded. Her brother is saving a life, and she’s treating it like a business transaction.” I spun around to look at her. “Do you think donating an organ is that honorable?” She blinked, startled. “Of course it is.” “Well, your son is an adult too. Why don’t we get him tested to see if he’s a match?” Her face drained of color instantly. “What nonsense are you talking about?!” I smiled. “So it’s honorable when it’s someone else’s body, but it’s nonsense when it’s your own family. Your charity really knows how to choose its targets.” The hallway fell dead quiet. Lucas handed the consent forms to the doctor. “Doctor, please schedule the surgery.” He didn’t look at me again. “Hazel, as of today, I don’t have a sister anymore.” I nodded. “Fine.” I had heard that exact phrase too many times in my past life. This time, it didn’t feel like a punishment. It felt like freedom.

The surgery was scheduled for that afternoon. Before Chloe was wheeled into the operating room, she held Lucas’s hand tightly. “Lucas, if I survive this, I will owe you my life forever.” Lucas leaned down to wipe her tears. “Don’t be scared. You’re going to make it.” My mom was crying uncontrollably next to them. My dad patted Lucas’s shoulder, his eyes full of pride. “Lucas, I’ve never been prouder to call you my son.” I stood far away, near the exit. As the nurse was checking the charts, she asked casually, “Aren’t you going to say something to your brother?” Lucas cut in coldly, “No need.” The nurse gave me an awkward look. I said nothing. In my past life, I had said too much. I had screamed until I lost my voice, knelt on the floor, and begged. In the end, every single one of those actions was turned into proof of my cruelty. This time, I was as quiet as a wall. The operating room doors swung shut. My mom finally found the time to put me on trial. “Hazel, your behavior today is absolutely heartbreaking.” I kept my head down, organizing my bag. “Okay.” “Lucas is lying in there on an operating table, and you don’t care at all?” “My worrying won’t change his surgical outcome.” She choked on her words. My dad said in a deep, booming voice, “Lucas is sacrificing his entire future to save Chloe. As his sister, the least you could do is show some support instead of being so sarcastic.” I looked up. “I warned him about the risks to his career. You both said saving a life was more important.” My mom’s eyes welled with tears again. “Do you have to say things like that right now?” “Then what do you want me to say?” I looked her in the eye. “Do you want me to say you were right, so that when things go south later, you can blame me again?” Her face froze. My dad snapped. “How can you be so vicious? The surgery isn’t even over, and you’re already cursing Lucas?” I didn’t bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and messaged my academic advisor. I applied for an early return to campus. In my past life, after this day, I stayed at the hospital to help. I paid the bills, bought the food, picked up the lab reports, and stayed overnight. When Chloe woke up and Lucas recovered, they received all the credit. Meanwhile, because I missed too many classes, I missed the final presentation for my national law competition. Later, I lost my early-admission slot for grad school because of it. Back then, my dad had said, “You’re just a woman. Why do you need so much education anyway? Lucas’s career is what matters.” This time, I was not going to leave my life sitting at the door of their hospital room. Four hours later, the surgeon stepped out. “The surgery is complete. Everything went smoothly. The recipient is stable, but the donor will need close monitoring.” My family rushed forward immediately. “Thank God.” “Lucas is such a brave soul.” “Chloe is so blessed to have him.” In my past life, they had crowded around him just like this. Except back then, they were praising his promotions, his bonuses, and his bright future. And then they would add: “It’s a shame Chloe didn’t have the luck to live.” And finally, they would glare at me. “Hazel’s heart is made of stone.” My mom sat by Lucas’s bed, crying tears of pity. “Lucas, my poor baby, you’ve suffered so much.” The anesthesia hadn’t fully worn off, and his eyes were unfocused, but he was still asking, “Chloe… is she okay?” My dad’s eyes were wet. “Yes, she’s perfect. You saved her.” A slight smile appeared on Lucas’s face. It looked like he had finally received the gold medal he had always wanted. I placed a receipt on the bedside table. “This is the $3,700 I advanced. Make sure to Venmo me.” My mom snapped her head up. “Lucas just got out of surgery, and you’re asking us for money?” “It’s not Lucas’s money,” I said. “Chloe’s family didn’t have enough for the pre-op deposit, and you told me to put it on my card.” My dad’s face turned purple. “Are you really that desperate for three grand?” “Yes,” I looked at them. “My rent is due next month.” My mom stared at me as if I were a stranger. “You never used to be like this.” Used to be? I used to think that if I was just obedient enough, they would finally love me. But I finally realized they just didn’t think I deserved to be loved.

I picked up my bag. “I’m heading back to campus.” My mom panicked. “What about Lucas?” “He has his parents, his nurses, and Chloe’s eternal gratitude.” I stopped at the doorway. “I only have myself.” When I left the hospital, there was a food truck selling hot clam chowder downstairs. In my past life, I had bought countless meals here. Lucas would complain it was too bland, Chloe would say it was too hot, and my mom would yell at me for taking too long. This time, I bought a bowl just for myself. As the warm steam hit my face, tears almost came to my eyes. Not because I was sad. But because for the first time in two lifetimes, I had bought a warm meal just for myself. Chloe survived. Lucas became the ultimate romantic hero in our social circle. My mom posted on Instagram every single day. “My brave son gave a part of himself to bring another beautiful soul back to life.” The post had hundreds of likes. Someone commented: “Where is Hazel? Lucas did such an incredible thing, she must be so proud.” My mom replied: “She’s still young and selfish. She doesn’t understand.” I saw it. I didn’t comment. I was too busy preparing my final presentation for the law competition. Three days after returning, I packed up and moved out of my tiny bedroom at my parents’ house. In my past life, that room was eventually turned into Lucas’s home office. My things had been tossed into cardboard boxes and shoved onto the balcony. My mom had said, “Lucas is under so much pressure. He needs a quiet study. You’re a girl, you can crash anywhere.” This time, I didn’t wait for them to kick me out. I left on my own. The apartment I rented was tiny. Downstairs was a noisy night market, and the smell of greasy food drifted through my window every evening. But the lock on the door was mine. The light was mine. The yogurt in the fridge was mine. No one was banging on my door at midnight demanding I make Lucas ramen. No one was rifling through my drawers to steal my cash to buy Chloe organic supplements. I had never felt so safe. Two weeks later, Lucas was discharged. Chloe was moved to a general ward. Our family threw a small welcome-back party. But I didn’t go. My mom called me, her voice dripping with irritation. “Lucas is finally taking his first steps out of bed today. You’re not even going to come see him?” I kept my eyes on the legal essay on my laptop screen. “I’m busy.” “What could possibly be more important than your brother?” In my past life, this question had trapped me for years. This time, my answer was instant. “My life.” The line went silent for a few seconds. My mom’s voice turned icy. “Hazel, don’t you dare regret this. If you act like this now, don’t expect this family to help you when you’re struggling.” I smiled. “Sounds great. Good practice for the future.” She hung up in a rage. That night, I got a text from Lucas. It was just one sentence: “Chloe said she’s going to spend the rest of her life by my side.” I stared at the screen for a long time. In my past life, after Chloe died, Lucas had said something similar at her grave. He had said, “I will never love anyone else for the rest of my life.” He never got married. And everyone blamed his loneliness on me. But in this life, Chloe was alive. Would she really stay by his side forever? Three months later, the decision everyone had praised so highly began to unravel from the inside out.

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On the night we lost the championship, the TV was still replaying the footage of Ethan Vance missing that crucial penalty kick. I looked at Ethan, who was slumped on the couch smelling of cheap beer, and swept the aluminum cans in front of him straight into the trash. He looked up, his eyes bloodshot and swollen. “You saw it too, didn’t you? I ruined everything. That penalty…” Seeing that I didn’t offer a single word of comfort, he let out a bitter laugh. “You think I’m useless too, don’t you? I practiced that shot a thousand times…” I slid the divorce papers across the coffee table, stopping right in front of him. I looked at him calmly. “Let’s get a divorce.” A flash of utter shock crossed Ethan’s face. Then, he reached out, trying to grab my hand with a helpless, forced smile. “What’s wrong with you? Is this a joke? You’re divorcing me over one lost game?” He squeezed out a laugh, but the panic in his eyes was impossible to hide. “I know I let you down. I’ll work harder next year. I promise we’ll win the cup, okay?” His voice trembled. He was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince me. Looking into his pathetic, pleading eyes, I pulled my hand back. My voice was cold. “It has nothing to do with the game.” The gentle facade on his face cracked, and his brows furrowed. “Not the game? Then what else could it be?” His brow tightened further, a trace of impatience creeping into his tone. “Is it because I didn’t pick you up today? Or did your friends talk trash about me behind my back again?” “Or are you mad because I didn’t spend enough time with you while preparing for the finals these past few days?” His tone softened, as if he were coaxing a child. “Stop being dramatic, babe. I’ll spend every single day with you during the off-season, okay?” He reached out again to grab my wrist. The moment his fingers brushed my skin, I snatched my arm back and glared at him. “Don’t touch me.” “I said I want a divorce. Do you not understand English?” “It’s not this, it’s not that! What the hell do you want from me then?” He finally dropped his pleading act, his voice rising with uncontrollable irritation. “You can’t seriously divorce me just because I lost a match! Do you have any idea what people will say if they find out?” I looked at him blankly. “Yes, I am divorcing you because you lost.” I stared straight into his eyes, pronouncing every word clearly. “Do you have a problem with that?” He looked at me in disbelief. “Do you even hear yourself?” His eyes widened, as if he were seeing a stranger. “Because of a loss? I sat here all night waiting for you to come home and comfort me, and instead, you walk through the door and throw divorce papers in my face?” “And I already said we’d win it back next year, but you just won’t listen. Now you’re…” I didn’t bother to answer. I turned around and walked into the bedroom to pack my bags. Behind me, his roar echoed through the apartment: “Chloe! Do you even have a heart?!” Refusing to give up, he rushed after me. He tried to block the door, but his elbow slammed against the doorframe, making him gasp in pain. “Chloe, make it make sense! What did I do? Why are we divorcing?” Through the door, his voice sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “At least give me a reason. Even if we break up, I deserve an explanation, don’t I?” I leaned against the door, closing my eyes. I didn’t say a word. After a long time, a heavy thud echoed from the other side of the door. “I’m not signing it. Don’t even think about it!” With that, his footsteps faded away, followed by the heavy slam of the front door. After he left, I stood alone in the empty living room, staring at the divorce agreement on the coffee table for a long time. Then, I picked up my phone and called my lawyer friend. “Lily, help me draft a final divorce agreement. The house goes to me, and we split the savings fifty-fifty.” Ethan didn’t come home that night, but I slept like a baby. The next morning, right after I woke up, I received a call from his parents asking me to come over. Shortly after Ethan left last night, they had called, saying we needed to talk. But when I arrived at their house, I realized Hailey, the team’s personal physical therapist, was also there.

At the dining table, Helen put a piece of steak onto my plate, speaking in a probing tone. “Chloe, you know Ethan. He’s been terrible at sweet-talking since he was a kid. If he did something wrong, please bear with him…” I didn’t take the food. I laid my fork down. “Helen, Richard, we are getting a divorce.” The fork in Helen’s hand clattered onto her plate. The smile on her face froze. “Divorce? Why on earth would you divorce? Tell me what Ethan did wrong, and I’ll kick his ass for you.” I kept my head down, avoiding her eyes. “Nothing. We just drifted apart.” Ethan choked on his breath, his eyes turning red as he stared at me. “Babe, what did I do wrong?” His voice was raspy, his eyes rimmed with red. “Just tell me, and I’ll change, okay? I don’t believe you don’t love me anymore. We’ve been together for ten years. Ten years of love, and you’re just throwing it away?” Richard and Helen exchanged looks. Helen sighed, her voice softening. “Chloe, is it because Ethan was so busy with training and matches this past year that he didn’t have time for you? Do you feel neglected?” I kept my head down and remained silent. “You know what he’s like. His head is filled with nothing but soccer. Sometimes he really neglects the house,” Richard chimed in with a sigh, his tone apologetic. “But he loves you. Every time he gets a bonus, the first thing he thinks of is buying you something nice. If you feel like he doesn’t spend enough time with you, we’ll make him take more days off to be with you, okay?” “If you’re really unhappy, we can have him talk to the club to skip some away games so he can stay home more,” Helen said, reaching out to squeeze my hand, her eyes tearing up. “Is there anything you two can’t just talk through? Why does it have to end in divorce?” I gently pulled my hand back and put down my fork. “Helen, Richard, it’s not about how much time he spends at home. This divorce is happening. Please don’t try to persuade me otherwise.” Ethan snapped his head up, staring at me with bloodshot eyes. “Babe…” Richard and Helen exchanged another look, their expressions finally hardening. “How can you be so stubborn, girl?” Helen’s voice began to tremble. “Maybe Ethan isn’t perfect, but how has he wronged you? He hands over all his paychecks to you, he never goes out partying, and he’s completely devoted to you. And you’re just discarding him because of one lost game?” Richard’s face went cold as well. “Do you think he’s washed up? Do you think his career is over?” I didn’t answer. I stood up. “Thanks for breakfast, but I should go.” Behind me, Helen let out a stifled sob. Hailey quickly grabbed my arm. “Chloe, let’s step out onto the balcony for some fresh air. I need to talk to you.” Before I could answer, she pulled me across the living room and pushed open the glass door to the balcony. She looked at me with deep concern. “Chloe, what’s really going on? If there’s something bothering you, you can tell me. I know you’re not an unreasonable person. Something must have happened.” Hailey and I had a decent relationship; we were practically friends. She was the team’s official physical therapist, and she had been there since Ethan was in the youth academy. So, when we went on trips, shopping, or to the spa, I would occasionally invite her along. I was actually considering whether I should tell her the truth. But then, my eyes caught a gym bag sitting open on the lounge chair in the corner of the balcony. Peeking out from the bag was a bottle of men’s energy drink and a bottle of massage oil. Noticing where my eyes were drifting, Hailey’s face drained of color. She hurriedly knelt down and zipped the bag shut. Perhaps because she was in such a rush, her clumsy movements caused something to slip out of the side pocket. A hotel notepad paper drifted onto the floor. On it was Ethan’s handwriting: *”Thanks for last night. Same place tomorrow.”* She scrambled to pick it up, her face flushed with panic. “Please don’t misunderstand. This is… Ethan left it at my place after his therapy session…” “He just… asked me to bring him a cup of coffee upstairs, so he wrote a quick note…” Looking at her panicked face, the words caught in my throat. “I see. Let’s go back inside.” She grabbed my hand. “No, wait, you haven’t told me what’s wrong. Why the divorce? Is there really nothing that can be fixed?” I threw a cold glance at her. “Nothing. We’re just done.” I slid open the balcony door and walked back into the living room. Inside, Helen was still wiping her tears, while Richard sat grimly on the couch, smoking. Ethan was on his knees on the floor, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Without giving them another look, I walked straight toward the front door.

“Don’t leave, babe! Please don’t go!” As if suddenly waking up, Ethan scrambled to his feet, chased me to the door, and fell to his knees again, wrapping his arms around my legs. “Is it because I didn’t care enough about you? I’ll change! I promise I’ll put you first in everything from now on. Just don’t divorce me, please! I… I really can’t live without you!” Seeing this, Richard and Helen clutched their chests, groaning in dismay. I looked down at Ethan kneeling at my feet. His tears were dripping onto my shoes. I pulled my leg back, stepped around him, and opened the door. “Instead of begging me, you should take your parents to the hospital for a check-up. You might actually kill them with this pathetic show.” Ignoring their pale faces, I walked out. As I turned the corner, I could faintly hear Helen’s cries echoing from the apartment. “How can she be like this? Ethan gave her his whole heart, and she’s divorcing him over a soccer game?!” Richard’s voice sounded deep and exhausted. “Let it go. The girl has a heart of stone. We can’t change her mind.” I paused for a second, then kept walking. As soon as I walked out of the community gate, my phone rang. It was Lily. “The agreement is drafted. Come pick it up whenever you’re free.” The other end of the line fell silent for a few seconds. “Is it really just because of the game?” Lily’s voice was filled with confusion. “You guys always seemed so perfect. He never did anything to hurt you, did he?” I held the phone tight, staying silent. “I don’t mean to gossip, but I really don’t get it. You two have been good for so many years. Why the sudden divorce?” I rubbed my temples, feeling a wave of exhaustion. “It’s nothing. Being with his family is just too draining. I want to be free.” Lily sighed, sensing my fatigue, and didn’t push further. I drove over to her office, got the divorce papers, and signed my name immediately. By evening, I went back to the apartment to pack up my belongings. I wanted to remove all traces of my life here over the years, waiting for him to come back, sign the papers, and let me leave. But I waited and waited. It was past 9:00 PM, and there was still no reply from him. Frustrated, I decided to call him to get this over with. But before I could dial, my phone rang. It was one of Ethan’s teammates. The voice on the other end was frantic and drowned out by loud background noise. “Chloe, you need to get over to the club right now! Ethan lost his mind at the season review press conference. A reporter asked about the missed penalty, and he smashed the microphone on stage. The backstage area is a total mess right now!” I drove to the club’s media center. In the backstage green room, a crowd was gathered. Aside from Richard, Helen, and Hailey, there were club executives, sponsor representatives, and a bunch of Ethan’s teammates. My parents were standing right at the front. My mom’s eyes were red, and my dad’s face was thunderous. The way they looked at me made me feel like an absolute stranger. I opened my mouth to speak, but before a word could escape, my dad grabbed my arm aggressively, shoving me back against the doorframe. My ears buzzed from the impact. Ethan was slumped on the couch, his tie loosened, his face flushed. He struggled to stand up. “Robert, please, let’s just talk. Don’t touch her.” Seeing this, my dad’s eyes welled with angry tears. “Look at him! Look at what you’ve done to him! He lost his mind in front of the entire club!” “Have you lost your damn mind?” My dad’s voice boomed through the green room. “How has Ethan ever wronged you? You’re divorcing him over one missed penalty? How are we supposed to face our friends and neighbors?” His eyes grew redder. “I think you’ve had it too easy these past few years. We spoiled you!” My mom, who had always babied me and spoiled me since I was a child, looked at me with deep disappointment. “I hate to say this, Chloe, but you’ve gone way too far this time!” My dad snorted coldly. “Why are you still standing there? Apologize to Richard, Helen, and Hailey right now! You nearly gave them a heart attack yesterday!” I kept my head down, my voice quiet but firm. “This is between Ethan and me. Stay out of it.” With that, I snatched a pen from someone standing nearby and handed it, along with the papers, to Ethan. “I didn’t come here to make a scene. I came to get a divorce.” The moment the words left my mouth, the teammates—who had assumed I would back down after being scolded by my parents—glared at me in utter shock. Looking at the divorce papers I had already signed, Ethan began to tremble violently. His eyes were completely bloodshot as he clutched his chest. “Chloe…” His voice was so weak it sounded like it would blow away with the wind. “I promise I’ll bring the championship back next year. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t leave me, please?” Someone nearby couldn’t take it anymore and muttered under their breath, “This woman is a straight-up sociopath.” There wasn’t a shred of warmth in my eyes. “No need. Just sign the papers.”

When Helen saw me, her eyes welled with tears, but she swallowed her anger and walked over. “Chloe, I am begging you. Can we please go home and talk about this? Ethan is already going through hell. Don’t do this to him now.” I said nothing. Seeing that I was unmoved, Hailey stepped up to support a staggering Helen. “Chloe, what is wrong with you?” Meeting her probing gaze, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. The crisp sound made the entire room fall dead silent. Hailey clutched her cheek, tears instantly streaming down her face. “You… you hit me?” The room immediately erupted. “Whether I’m heartless or not is none of your business, Hailey. Keep your nose out of my marriage.” Helen was shaking so hard she couldn’t speak. Finally, she hissed through gritted teeth, “Good… great… my son was truly blind to marry such an ungrateful bitch!” She didn’t hit me back; she just turned her head away, her shoulders shaking violently as she wept. At this point, Ethan’s teammates couldn’t hold back their anger anymore. “Chloe, what is wrong with you? No respect for your elders, no respect for anyone! Ethan treated you like a queen, gave you everything you ever wanted, and you’re dumping him over one bad game? How does that make any sense?” I spared him a cold glance. “Is your training done? If you have so much free time, go home and worry about your own wife and kids. Stop sticking your nose in my business.” A few of Ethan’s close friends on the team got right in my face. “Ethan is such a great guy. He was a fool to marry you!” one teammate yelled. “Do you have any idea that just last night, he was telling us he wanted to throw you a massive vow renewal ceremony once we won the cup? Is this how you repay him?” “There’s no point talking to a woman like her. Ethan, just sign the damn papers! Let her rot! She’ll regret this!” I let out a cold chuckle. “Don’t worry. I won’t regret a single thing.” Hearing this, Richard slammed his fist on the table, knocking a chair over. “Divorce! Divorce her right now! Our family doesn’t need a cold-blooded monster like you!” He reached out to snatch the papers from my hand. But my dad quickly stepped in, blocking him with a submissive smile. “Richard, Helen, please don’t be angry. She’s just being childish. We can’t let her ruin this.” “I promise you, as long as I am here today, I won’t let her go through with this divorce. Don’t worry, I’m taking her home right now to set her straight!” With that, he grabbed my arm, trying to drag me out. I used every ounce of my strength to yank my arm free. “I said I am not leaving! This divorce is happening today, and none of you can stop me!” My dad, who had never been defied in his life, lost his temper completely. He threw a harsh shove that sent me stumbling to the floor. “You think I can’t control you?” His finger was practically poking my nose. “If you dare sign those papers today, you are no longer my daughter! Get the hell out of this family, and don’t you ever call me dad again!” The documents in my hand scattered all over the floor. My eyes burned with tears, but I bit my lip. “Fine. Since you’re taking his side, I have nothing left to say to you.” I knelt down to gather the scattered papers. But in the next second, my dad snatched them off the floor, glaring at me with fury. “I am ripping these damn papers right now! You’re going to put this ridiculous divorce out of your head once and for all!” I practically lunged at him. “No! Don’t!” My voice finally cracked with panic. “Dad, please, don’t rip them! I’ll explain everything to you later…” Before I could finish, his hand froze mid-tear. His eyes locked onto a few unexpected pages slipped between the legal documents. In that instant, all the color drained from my dad’s face. His hands began to shake violently, and he took two steps back, bumping into the table behind him. His gaze darted back and forth between Ethan and me, his lips trembling, but not a single sound came out. Seeing my dad’s shocked expression, my heart sank. I quickly snatched the crumpled papers back and tucked the hidden pages safely inside. The people in the room looked back and forth between us, completely baffled by our silent exchange. But it didn’t take long for someone to jump to conclusions. One of Ethan’s teammates sneaked a glance and sneered, trying to grab the papers from my hand. “What are you hiding? Must be something disgusting.” I shoved him away. “None of your business! Back off!”

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The day my mother died of a hemorrhage while giving birth to my little brother. My wealthy biological father was too busy pampering his mistress. He pulled every OB-GYN from the wing just to treat her mild migraine. That night, my mother and my unborn brother died on the operating table. Shortly after, the mistress framed me and had me thrown out of the house. Twenty years later, I am now the CEO of a billion-dollar conglomerate. And the mistress’s daughter, who helped ruin my mother’s life, has ended up as an intern at my company. On the day the return offers were announced, everyone assumed she had it in the bag. But in front of the entire boardroom, I calmly slid the termination letter across the table. “Amber Harrison, you didn’t pass.” The room fell silent instantly. The other four interns, holding their official contracts, stood frozen. They looked at Amber, completely lost. My assistant was stunned too. Standing beside me, he frantically tried to catch my eye. “Ms. Vance…” I ignored him, my eyes locked calmly on the girl sitting across from me. She looked so much like her mother. The same pretty face, the same clever eyes, and that sense of entitlement. Out of everyone in the room, Amber was the only one who didn’t panic. She was startled for a fraction of a second, but she quickly regained her composure. Slowly, she opened her leather portfolio and spread her performance reviews across the mahogany desk. “Ms. Vance, I’ve interned here for three months. I managed four projects, two of which I ran entirely on my own, with a one hundred percent client satisfaction rate.” Her tone was polite but firm, highly professional. “My quarterly evaluations have been perfect for two consecutive rounds. My sales numbers are the highest among all the interns.” She paused, looking up to meet my eyes. “If you are rejecting me, I deserve a reason.” She tilted her chin up slightly. There was no vulnerability in her eyes, only the controlled indignation of someone who believed they were untouchable. That kind of confidence came from her bones. It was the kind of arrogance only a spoiled, wealthy girl with a perfect, loving family could possess. I leaned back in my leather chair, watching her for a long moment before speaking. “I don’t need a reason.” Amber’s face tightened. “This is my company. I want you gone. It’s that simple.” Her perfect composure finally began to crack. Her face flushed, but she quickly forced a cold sneer. “Ms. Vance, this is workplace bullying.” She snapped her portfolio shut, her voice dropping to a icy whisper. “If I leak this to the press, I’m afraid it won’t look good for Vanguard Tech’s reputation.” I smiled. “I’m not bullying you.” I looked at her, my face completely expressionless. “If you think this is bullying, maybe the problem is you. Truly talented people never feel targeted. Only those with a guilty conscience do.” At those words, Amber’s expression completely changed. She was finally losing her temper. My assistant whispered anxiously in my ear. “Ms. Vance, shouldn’t we reconsider this? Amber’s performance has been flawless. Plus, the board ran a background check. Her father is the CEO of the Harrison Group.” “Richard Harrison.” I raised a hand to cut him off, keeping my eyes locked on Amber. “That’s your father, right?” Amber blinked, then raised her chin even higher, clearly proud of her family name. “So, Ms. Vance has heard of my father.” Her voice was dripping with smug confidence. “Since you know who he is, you should also know that keeping me here would secure a massive partnership between Vanguard and Harrison Group in the future.” She spoke with absolute certainty. Over the past twenty years, although the Harrison Group had passed its prime, it was still a powerful old-money giant. To a normal company, their business was a dream. “No, thank you.” Amber froze. “I don’t need anything from the Harrison Group.” I pushed the termination letter closer to her. “Now, pack your things and get out.” Amber completely lost it. Her face flushed bright red, not from shame, but from pure rage. She had been a princess her entire life. She had never been publicly rejected like this. “Fine.” She glared at me with pure hatred, snatching the letter off the table. “I’ll remember this, Ms. Vance. I hope you won’t regret it.” After she stormed out, I dismissed the other four interns. My assistant was still panicking, desperately trying to talk some sense into me. “Ms. Vance, why did you do that? The Harrison Group still holds massive market resources. Publicly firing Richard Harrison’s daughter is not a smart business move!” “Are you done?” My voice was dead cold. The assistant immediately shut his mouth. “Copy every single project file Amber touched during her internship and bring them to my office.”

In the afternoon, right after my assistant delivered the files, my office door was slammed open. I looked up. A meticulously preserved woman in a classic Chanel suit marched in, her high heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor. The diamond ring on her finger was blindingly large. Her makeup was so heavy you couldn’t tell her real age. Victoria Sterling. Twenty years had passed, and she was living like a queen. “Are you the owner of this company?” She sat down across from me, tossing her Hermès Birkin bag onto my desk like it was trash. “Who gave you the right to fire my daughter?” I ignored her, calmly picking up my mug to pour myself a fresh cup of coffee. “Mrs. Harrison, you still have quite the mouth on you. It seems you’ve been living comfortably all these years.” Victoria paused. She stared at my face for a few seconds. But she didn’t recognize me. Of course she didn’t. Twenty years ago, I was just a scrawny six-year-old child whom she banished from her sight with a single lie. Now that I was the powerful CEO of a billion-dollar company, how could she connect me to that miserable little girl? She assumed I knew her only because of her husband’s status. “Since you know who I am, let’s not waste time,” Victoria said, her voice dripping with the casual condescension of someone used to getting her way. “Amber is my daughter. Working at your little tech startup is a favor to you. Honestly, with her talent, a regular position is insulting. Make her a department director immediately.” I smiled faintly. “Does she deserve it?” Victoria’s face twisted. “What did you say?!” I set my mug down and looked her dead in the eye. “I said, she doesn’t deserve it.” Victoria bolted upright, her face turning pale with rage. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you! My daughter working here is a blessing for you. Do you have any idea how many projects the Harrison Group controls?” “With one word from my husband, we could give you enough business to feed this company for a lifetime!” Watching her ugly, arrogant face, I couldn’t help but wonder. Did she have this exact same expression when she threatened my mother to sign the divorce papers twenty years ago? “I’m sorry, but I have no interest in the Harrison Group.” I pressed the intercom button on my desk. “Security, get up here.” Two security guards entered the office and grabbed Victoria by her arms. Her eyes widened in absolute shock. She clearly never expected anyone would dare to touch her. Suddenly, the office door was kicked open again. A tall, skinny young man rushed in. He looked to be in his early twenties, dressed head-to-toe in expensive streetwear. He pointed a finger directly at my face and screamed. “Who the hell do you think you are, putting your hands on my mother? I’ll have my dad shut this pathetic company down by tomorrow!” I stared at his angry, youthful face. His eyes and jawline were a carbon copy of Richard Harrison. Suddenly, a memory flashed in my mind. That rainy night twenty years ago, when I lost my mother and my unborn baby brother. If that baby had survived, he would have been exactly this boy’s age. “Is this your son?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. “Of course,” Victoria sneered, straightening her suit. “This is Jack, Richard’s only son.” I stared at the two of them, and then, I laughed. “Perfect.” I stood up and looked at Jack. “Go back and tell your father. Tell him I’m waiting to see how he plans to shut me down.” The security guards dragged them both out. I sat back down, picked up my lukewarm coffee, and drank the entire cup. I knew this was just the beginning.

After throwing them out, I gave my assistant another task. “Find out everything you can on Jack Harrison. I want every single detail.” An hour later, a file was placed on my desk. Jack Harrison. Twenty-one years old. A college senior. Currently interning at the local TV network. What a coincidence. The TV network? I stared at the file for a long time before picking up my phone. The call was answered almost instantly. “Sera? Why are you calling me now? I thought you said you were swamped today.” Hearing Marcus’s voice, I fell silent for a few seconds. He was my boyfriend, and also the executive producer at that exact TV network. I didn’t want to drag him into my dark past. But he was the only one who could help me with this. “Do you have an intern at your station named Jack Harrison?” “Yeah,” Marcus answered quickly. “I heard he’s the heir to the Harrison Group. Why? Do you know him?” I hesitated, but finally, I made my demand. “I don’t want to see him there anymore. Can you fire him?” Marcus went quiet on the other end. He knew me. He knew I was never unreasonable or petty. “Sera, what happened?” “Nothing,” I whispered, not wanting him to know the painful details of my childhood yet. “I just really dislike the Harrison family.” Marcus didn’t push. He just gave me a firm, comforting answer. “Okay. Consider it done.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, a wave of warmth rushing through me. “I’ll pick you up from the station tonight.” After work, I drove to the TV station. As soon as I got out of my car, I saw Jack being held back by two security guards, screaming curses at the top of his lungs. “On what grounds are you firing me? Just because I yelled at a coworker? I’m telling you, my dad is Richard Harrison! If you mess with me, you’re messing with the entire Harrison Group!” A manager was standing nearby, trying to calm him down. “Mr. Harrison, please calm down. You physically assaulted a colleague. We are just following company policy…” “Policy? I am the policy! If you don’t fire that loser and make him apologize to me on his knees, I’ll ruin this entire station!” Just then, Marcus walked out of the building. He spotted me immediately and walked straight toward me, naturally taking my hand. “Have you been waiting long?” “No, I just got here.” I smiled at him. Jack caught sight of us. When he saw how close Marcus and I were, his eyes flared with understanding. “You bitch! It was you! Firing my sister wasn’t enough, so you had your boyfriend fire me too?!” He broke free from the guards and charged at me with his fist raised. Marcus’s face darkened instantly. He stepped in front of me, shielding me, and delivered a swift, hard kick to Jack’s stomach. Jack collapsed, groaning. “Get him away from here,” Marcus ordered the guards, his voice dangerously low. The two security guards grabbed Jack and dragged him away. “You’re dead!” Jack screamed as they dragged him down the street. “My dad is going to destroy you! Just you wait!” Marcus turned to me, his eyes full of concern. “Richard Harrison is one of the most powerful men in this city, Sera. What is going on?” I shook my head, keeping my lips sealed. That night, my phone rang. It was an unrecognized number, but the voice was deeply familiar. It was Richard Harrison. Twenty years. Hearing his voice again made my heart stop for a agonizing second.

“Are you Sera Vance, the CEO of Vanguard Tech?” On the other end of the line, his voice was heavy with arrogance. “I am.” “Who gave you the permission to mess with my kids?” I let out a dry laugh. “Mr. Harrison, are you confused? Compared to Vanguard, your company is practically a relic of the past. Why would I waste my time targeting a failing business?” “You arrogant brat!” My words completely set him off. He had probably never been spoken to like this by a younger professional in his life. I could hear his heavy, ragged breathing over the line. “Fine! Very good! Let’s see how long your precious Vanguard can survive after tonight!” “I’ll be waiting,” I said quietly, and hung up. Richard moved fast. The next morning, my assistant burst into my office, holding his iPad. His face was pale. “Ms. Vance, you need to see this!” Trending at number three on Twitter was: #VanguardTechCEOScandals. I scrolled down. Several media accounts had posted long articles claiming that a woman in her early twenties couldn’t possibly become a CEO without a wealthy sugar daddy. Then, they posted several threads hinting that Vanguard’s core technology was stolen, claiming our success was built entirely on fake marketing. “Ms. Vance, several of our key partners are calling,” my assistant’s voice shook. “If we don’t handle this, they might pull their funding.” Before I could speak, there was a frantic knock on the door. A PR coordinator ran in with her laptop open. “Ms. Vance, Amber Harrison just posted a video on TikTok!” I grabbed the laptop. In the video, Amber was sitting in front of the camera, looking professional and polished. She displayed her project reports one by one. “These are the projects I completed during my internship at Vanguard Tech. I poured my heart into them, and my metrics were the highest. But Ms. Vance terminated me without any explanation.” She paused, her eyes turning red and tearing up. “Later, I found out that two of the male interns had private meetings with Ms. Vance. I don’t want to make assumptions, but the facts speak for themselves.” At the end of the video, she posted a comparison of her metrics versus one of the male interns who got the job. The caption read: What did I do wrong? My assistant slammed his fist on the desk. “This is absolute garbage! That male intern was working on backend infrastructure! He didn’t even have client-facing metrics!” The PR director wrung his hands in panic. “Ms. Vance, public opinion is completely against us. Everyone is calling us a toxic workplace. Should we release a statement?” I nodded slowly. “Yes. We definitely need to release a statement.” But I didn’t release a clarification. Instead, I filed a lawsuit against Amber Harrison for defamation and corporate slander. My retaliation pushed the Harrisons over the edge. Within hours, Richard Harrison contacted a major TV network and arranged a live-streamed debate. He publicly challenged me to go head-to-head with him on air. I was about to accept when Marcus stormed into my office, stopping me. “Sera, don’t go. Richard bought off the media. The host, the guest panel, they are all on his payroll. It’s a trap. The moment you step on that stage, they will tear you apart live.” I listened quietly, then looked up at him. “Marcus, can you get control of the broadcasting booth?” He blinked, surprised. “I can do that, but…” “That’s all I need.” I unlocked my phone and sent a message back to Richard Harrison. “I’ll see you there.” I put my phone down, walked into the executive bathroom, and looked at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a sharp, charcoal-grey pantsuit. I stood tall and proud. Twenty years. From the night my mother died until today, I had been waiting for this exact moment. I looked at my reflection and whispered, “Mom, the day is finally here.”

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### My boyfriend had been missing on his business trip for three days, so I finally called 911. Right after I hung up, the doorbell rang. He stood there, holding a bunch of red roses, smiling. “Hey baby, did you miss me?” My entire body froze. Cold sweat broke out across my back. We had a secret code using rose colors. Red roses meant… *Danger. Run.* I stared at his face. It was identical to the one in my memory. But he never said such cheesy things. This man was absolutely not my boyfriend. 1 “Liam?” My voice forced its way out of my throat, sounding as dry as sandpaper. He tilted his head, thrusting the roses into my arms. “Only gone for three days, and you already forgot what I look like?” The thorns pricked my palm. The sharp sting forced me to stay sharp. I stepped aside to let him in, my eyes locked onto his every move. Taking off his shoes, setting down the suitcase, hanging up his coat. Every single movement matched Liam’s habits perfectly. He even remembered the exact spot for the grey slippers on the second shelf of the shoe rack. I bought those slippers just last month. Liam had only worn them twice before he left. “Claire, why do you look so pale?” He turned around, reaching out to touch my forehead. Instinctively, I took half a step back. His hand froze in mid-air, but his warmth quickly returned as a smile. “Are you mad because I went off the grid? The reception out there was terrible, and my phone broke. It took forever to get it fixed.” “Oh, really?” I forced a smile, casually setting the roses on the entryway cabinet. I tried to keep my movements natural, but my fingers were trembling. “Yeah, the project had some last-minute issues. I had to work overtime to pull it off. I wanted to call you sooner, but my phone died. It was driving me crazy. You have no idea—there wasn’t even a decent repair shop nearby. I had to drive forty miles to find one.” He spoke smoothly and naturally, even pulling out his phone to show me. There was indeed a brand-new screen protector on it, with a tiny chip on the corner. The last time Liam dropped his phone, it had chipped in that exact same spot. Even the details matched. I stared at his face. Every feature told me this was Liam. The same brow bone, the same jawline, even the way his left eye squinted slightly more than his right when he smiled. Yet, the cold sweat on my back refused to dry. “I’m gonna take a shower. I smell like outdoor sweat,” he said, patting my shoulder before heading toward the bedroom. I leaned against the wall, my heart hammering so hard it felt like it would burst. Before Liam left for his trip, we had one last phone call. His voice had been incredibly low, as if he was terrified of being overheard. He had said, “Claire, if there ever comes a day when I tell you to run, don’t ask questions. Just run.” I asked him why. He was silent for a long time—so long that I thought the call had dropped. Then he said, “Because my dad didn’t run in time.” Liam’s father was a cop who died in the line of duty ten years ago. Liam never brought it up, always avoiding the subject. Over time, I stopped asking. But now, I was beginning to doubt everything. I pulled out my phone and opened the call log. Three minutes ago, I had dialed 911. It rang twice, and then I hung up. If the man in the other room wasn’t Liam, where was the real Liam? And if I called the cops now, what would I tell them? I had absolutely no proof. He hadn’t made a single slip-up. No, wait. He did. The red roses. — ###

2 During our second year together, we were curled up on the couch watching a crime show. The characters in the show used flower colors as secret codes to pass messages. Liam was fascinated. He turned to me and said, “Let’s make one too. Red roses mean danger, white means safe, and yellow means be careful.” I thought he was being overly dramatic at the time, but I played along and nodded anyway. That agreement was a secret only Liam and I shared. If the man in my house wasn’t Liam, why did he bring red roses? Unless… This slip-up was left for me on purpose. The sound of running water came from the bathroom, mixing with the rapid thudding of my heart. I quietly pushed open the bedroom door. Liam’s suitcase was open on the floor. His clothes were folded neatly. He always traveled like this—every shirt rolled into the exact same shape, lined up perfectly in the suitcase. I knelt down, my fingers shaking as I rummaged through the side pockets. His passport, a charger, a half-used pack of tissues. Nothing. Just as I was about to stand up, my eyes caught a piece of fabric peeking through the closet door. I pulled the closet door open. It was the grey jacket Liam wore before he left. He had owned this jacket for years. The cuffs were starting to fray, and though I offered to buy him a new one, he insisted this was his most comfortable piece. I reached my hand into the pocket. My fingertips brushed against something soft and slightly damp, like it had been sitting there for days. I pulled it out. It was a red rose petal. The petal was slightly withered, its edges curling and turning a dark, bruised color, as if it had been soaked in something. Written on it in black ink were two words: *RUN.* The handwriting was messy and rushed. The last stroke of the ‘N’ dragged out long, as if he had been interrupted mid-write. I recognized this handwriting. It was Liam’s. His handwriting was just like him—seemingly neat and orderly, but if you looked closely, the final stroke of every word always flicked upward. The water in the bathroom stopped. I quickly shoved the petal back into the jacket pocket, shut the closet door, pushed the suitcase back to its exact spot, and retreated to the living room. Just as I sat down on the couch, he walked out, drying his hair with a towel. He had changed into loungewear—a grey T-shirt and dark blue shorts. They were all Liam’s clothes, and they fit him perfectly. “Claire, can you check if I left my charger brick in the suitcase? I can’t find it,” his voice called out from the bedroom, carrying the lazy warmth of someone who had just showered. I called back an answer and stood up to walk over. His back was turned to me as he rummaged through the suitcase, exposing the skin of his neck. The overhead light was bright—bright enough for me to see every detail of his skin. I stared at his neck, and my heart seized. — ###

3 Liam had a mole on the back of his neck. It was tiny and very light. You wouldn’t notice it unless you were looking closely. The only reason I knew about it was because we were messing around on the couch once, and my nail accidentally grazed it. He flinched, laughing, and told me that was his most ticklish spot. The man in front of me didn’t have it. The mole was completely gone. There were no scars from laser removal either. It was as if the mole had never existed in the first place. My fingers started to tremble. I hid my hands behind my back, clenching my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. The pain cleared my head a little. “Find it?” He turned around, his eyes scanning my face. I forced a smile. “No. Did you leave it at the hotel?” That smile took every ounce of my energy. My face felt stiff, but I knew if I didn’t smile, he would notice. He frowned. The angle of his brow, the expression—it was identical to Liam’s. “Maybe. I’ll call them later. The hotel staff seemed nice, so they probably found it.” He stood up and stepped closer to me. A drop of water from his wet hair fell onto the back of my hand. “Claire, did you miss me?” His warm breath brushed against my ear. I froze, the blood in my veins turning to ice. “Of course I did,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible. “Then why aren’t you hugging me?” He opened his arms, offering a warm, gentle smile. The exact same smile Liam always gave. Every time Liam came back from a trip, he would open his arms like this and say those exact words. It was our little routine, starting from our very first year. I stepped forward and lightly wrapped my arms around his waist. His body was warm. His heartbeat was steady and strong, pulsing against my palm through his thin T-shirt. But all I wanted to do was throw up. “You lost weight,” he said, stroking my hair with genuine concern. “Just stressed at work.” I buried my face in his chest to hide my expression. His chest smelled like body wash—the exact brand I used. Liam never used that brand. He complained it was too floral and always used unscented soap. But this man used it. Did he not know Liam’s preference, or was it intentional? Liam, where the hell are you? Who is this man? He made dinner that night. Garlic butter pasta, roasted asparagus, and grilled chicken. These were Liam’s signature dishes, and they tasted exactly the same. “Eat up. Look how thin you’ve gotten.” He placed some chicken on my plate. He was holding his fork in his left hand. Liam was a lefty. He wrote with his left hand, ate with his left hand, and shot hoops with his left hand. I used to tease him about being a lefty freak, and he’d joke that left-handed people had more developed right brains, making them smarter than average. I kept my head down, shoving pasta into my mouth as my mind raced. How long had this man watched him? How long did it take to copy Liam’s habits to this degree? Many of these details weren’t things you could learn just by watching from afar. Unless he and Liam had lived together. “By the way,” he said suddenly. “Did you call the police?”

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