Category: English

I was with my fiancé, picking out a wedding gift to ourselves in a new high-rise, when I ran into the kind of real estate agent who keeps a different face for every occasion. First, she was all over my fiancé, praising him as a titan of industry for pulling up in a Rolls-Royce. Then, she was in my ear, whispering that my designer bag was a cheap knockoff, that I was just another wannabe socialite who could get a condo just by batting her eyelashes. When she found out we were shopping for our marital home, she made sure the whole showroom could hear her when she said, “You know, I thought that godfather of yours—the one who bought you two places last time—he seemed to treat you pretty well.” And then, the kill shot: “Oh, right. I seem to recall there was more than one. Do they all know about each other?” I just smiled. Because my godfathers are exactly that. And the heiress part? That’s real, too. The funny thing is, my fiancé… he was just the scholarship kid I’d put through school. 1 After Ethan finally met my grandfather, the wedding was officially on. We left dinner in the Rolls grandpa had gifted us, heading for a new luxury condo building that had just opened up downtown, ready to buy our first home together. The moment we arrived, I darted off to the restroom. I was in a hurry and accidentally bumped into a saleswoman coming out. A sharp, irritated hiss cut through the air. “Watch where you’re going.” I glanced up at her name tag: Brenda Dunne, Senior Sales Executive. She caught me looking and her lips curled into a sneer. She leaned in, her voice a low, conspiratorial insult. “Some people think a knockoff bag makes them real society,” she murmured. “Spend all day in a lobby they can’t afford, taking selfies for the ‘gram and using the bathroom. Pathetic.” I took a deep breath, my rebuttal already on my tongue, but she just shoved past my shoulder and stalked off. When I came out a minute later, the same Brenda Dunne who had just looked at me like I was something she’d scraped off her shoe was now coiled around Ethan, her whole body contorted into a pose of flirty subservience. Her voice, now dripping with saccharine sweetness, was a constant hum as she pointed out the building’s features, finding any excuse to press her chest against his arm. I looked at Ethan, and I got it. It was his first time meeting my grandfather, so he’d dressed the part. The custom suit, the Patek Philippe on his wrist—it was a uniform that women like Brenda were trained to read like a balance sheet. In a neighborhood where a square foot cost more than her car, a single commission could set her up for years. The second Ethan saw me, he flinched back, creating a careful distance between himself and Brenda. He gave me a warm, reassuring smile. “Sloane, there you are. Come over here.” Brenda’s head snapped in my direction, her expression curdling for a split second. “Oh. Miss… Montgomery. You’re with Mr. Hayes?” “I’m so sorry,” she gushed, the apology sounding like an accusation. “I saw your bag earlier and thought it was a knockoff. I just assumed you were here to use the facilities. We get so many wannabes in here for photo ops, you know how it is. You’re not mad, are you?” A knockoff? The bag was a gift from Ethan. And as for whether I was a “wannabe,” Ethan knew the truth better than anyone. Brenda’s words hung in the air. Ethan’s face flushed with awkwardness. “Sloane,” he said quickly, steering the conversation away. “The location is perfect, it’s so close to your family’s place. Should we take a look?” The last thing I wanted was to spend another second with Brenda. I walked past her, straight to Ethan’s side. “I’ve heard enough talk. Let’s just see the model unit.” Ethan wrapped a gentle arm around my shoulder, playfully tapping my nose. “Alright. Whatever you say.” While we waited for the elevator, Brenda’s eyes, shimmering with glittery eyeshadow, were glued to Ethan. “Mr. Hayes, you’re so accomplished for your age. You must be the CEO of your own company, I’m sure.” Ethan offered a polite, noncommittal smile. “Not quite a CEO.” Seeing his smile as an invitation, Brenda lowered her gaze and purred, “Oh, you’re too modest. Anyone who can drive a Rolls-Royce at your age has to be brilliant.” The elevator doors slid open. Brenda shot me a look of pure contempt before subtly tugging down the collar of her blouse, exposing the curve of her breasts. She then physically squeezed between us to get in next to Ethan. As she pushed past, her stiletto heel came down hard on the arch of my foot. A sharp gasp of pain escaped my lips. “What the hell are you doing?” Brenda spun around, her face a mask of wide-eyed innocence. “Miss Montgomery, I am so, so sorry! I was just trying to get the elevator button for you.” Her voice cracked, turning into a desperate whisper. “Please, don’t report me. I’m just a salesgirl. I don’t have it easy like you… you can just bat your eyelashes and get a condo. You can yell at me all you want later, I understand…” Ethan saw the angry red mark on my foot and knelt, his touch gentle. “Sloane, come on. It was an accident.” He looked up at me, his eyes pleading. “I’ll carry you later if it still hurts.” A hot spike of anger shot through my chest, but I thought of the reason we were here. Our future home. My grandfather had finally given us his blessing. I was supposed to be happy. I gave a stiff nod, swallowing my pride. I would endure it. But the moment we stepped into the model unit, a sharp pain radiated up from my foot. I needed to sit down. As I moved toward the sofa, Brenda’s arm shot out, blocking my path. “Miss Montgomery! Just one moment!” She scurried into the bedroom and returned with a stack of hand towels, which she proceeded to meticulously lay across the sofa cushions. “This is designer furniture, Miss Montgomery,” she said, her tone syrupy sweet. “We have to be careful, don’t we? Oh, don’t get me wrong, I do this for all my clients. It’s policy.” She paused, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Though, most of our clients from… good families… they just know these things. I guess your etiquette lessons didn’t quite cover this.” That last line was a slap in the face. I shot to my feet. “What is that supposed to mean?” Ethan looked over, his brow furrowed in concern. Brenda’s expression instantly morphed into one of fawning admiration. “Miss Montgomery! You misunderstood! I was just saying how much I admire you for finding such a wonderful husband!” Her smile was wide and predatory. “It’s not easy to marry into a family like his these days. I’m truly envious.” Ethan came over and knelt by my chair, patting my hand. “After this, I’ll get you that gelato we talked about, okay?” he murmured. “Don’t be angry. You’re not as pretty when you’re angry.” Brenda clutched her towels, her face a picture of stunned innocence. “Miss Montgomery, did I say something wrong? If I did, I am so, so sorry…” I looked at Ethan, at his placating smile, and bit my lip. It was just one saleswoman. It wasn’t worth it. “Forget it.” Ethan’s face relaxed into a relieved grin. He pulled me up, and we began to tour the penthouse. It was a duplex, almost six thousand square feet of opulent design. Even the place settings on the dining table were worth more than my car. I was admiring the view when I felt a sudden, hard shove from behind. I stumbled forward, my hands slamming onto the dining table. A deafening crash echoed through the room as thousands of dollars of crystal and porcelain shattered on the marble floor. A sharp pain seared my leg. I whipped around. Before I could even speak, Brenda burst into tears. “Miss Montgomery… how could you be so clumsy… I…” Ethan rushed over at the sound of the crash. I stared at Brenda, my voice dangerously low. “You pushed me.” Brenda’s eyes darted to Ethan, her lower lip trembling. “Mr. Hayes, I swear I didn’t… This dining set… it costs more than my entire year’s salary. Why would I ever risk having to pay for it?” I pointed to the small, discreet security camera on the ceiling and grabbed her wrist. “You say you didn’t? Fine. Let’s go watch the footage.” Brenda tried to yank her arm away, her voice rising in panic. “Ow! Miss Montgomery, you’re hurting me… Maybe you were just standing too close behind me, I didn’t see you! You shouldn’t have been standing there!” She bent down, starting to pick up the shards of glass, her tears mixing with the mascara running down her face. The short skirt and the damsel-in-distress act were quite a performance. I kicked a piece of broken glass in frustration. “What kind of person do they hire in this place?” Seeing that I was genuinely furious, Ethan pulled me into an embrace. “Sloane, it’s okay. I believe you,” he whispered. “It’s broken, so it’s broken. It’s not like we can’t afford it.” He changed the subject, his voice smooth. “You know, I’ve had a walk around. This duplex is perfect. It would make an incredible home for us.” At the word “home,” Brenda, still on the floor, flinched. Her eyes were red, her voice choked with fake emotion. “But, Miss Montgomery… you know, I think… I think that godfather of yours, the one who bought you two other units… he seemed to treat you pretty well.” She paused, letting the implication sink in. “Oh, right. I seem to recall there was more than one. Do they all know about each other?” Her use of the word “godfather” was drenched in insinuation. Ethan and I both stared at her. She recoiled as if she’d just realized her mistake. “Miss Montgomery… I didn’t mean it like that… I just… I just remembered seeing you here before.” Ethan turned to me, his face a canvas of confusion. “Sloane, what godfather?” Before I could answer, Brenda cut in. “Mr. Hayes, don’t misunderstand…” She hesitated for dramatic effect. “It’s just… last month, I saw Miss Montgomery here with an older man. I think I heard her call him ‘godfather.’ And then later, she was on the phone with someone else, calling him ‘godfather’ too…” She finished with a sickly-sweet smile in my direction. “But, you know, I could have misheard.” I drew out a long, slow “Mhmm,” a half-smile playing on my lips. “You didn’t misremember. I did buy two units in this building. Is there a problem?” I paused. “As for my ‘godfathers’…” It took Ethan a few seconds to process, but when he did, his anger was directed at Brenda. “How dare you spread rumors like that? Sloane would never be that kind of person.” Brenda shook her head frantically. “But we have security cameras, Mr. Hayes. Facial recognition. You can check the records if you don’t believe me…” I was done with her. I grabbed my purse and walked towards the door. “The agent who helped me last time was named Alice. She was far more professional than you. I’ll ask for her.” Hearing that she was about to lose the sale, Brenda scrambled to her feet. “Miss Montgomery! No! I’m sorry, I was wrong!” Ethan hurried to catch up with me. “Sloane, I believe you. Let’s just get a different agent.” Back in the main sales gallery, a polished woman in a smart pantsuit walked briskly towards us. “Miss Montgomery! It’s so good to see you again so soon.” It was Alice. Ethan looked from Alice to me, and I met his gaze. “Ethan, it’s true. I bought two apartments here a few weeks ago.” My father was in real estate. He was always buying property, even while living abroad. Ethan knew this. He didn’t press further, just squeezed my shoulder gently. “I never said I didn’t believe you. This is different. This is our home.” Alice beamed. “You’re buying your marital home? Congratulations, Miss Montgomery!” Suddenly, Brenda came running up from behind, grabbing Alice’s arm. “Alice, you know the client poaching rules!” she hissed. “I was the one who greeted Mr. Hayes first! You can’t steal my client!” Her raised voice attracted stares. The sales manager hurried over. Alice looked completely bewildered. “They’re buying a home together. Naturally, both of their names will be on the deed. But Miss Montgomery is my client. Her last purchase with me was less than 45 days ago. According to the retention rule, she’s still mine.” The manager understood immediately. “That’s correct. Per company policy, this commission belongs to Alice.” Brenda’s face contorted with rage as she glared at me. “Then why didn’t you say so earlier?!” I feigned innocence. “First, if you really recognized me, wouldn’t you already know that? Second, you latched onto my fiancé the second he walked in the door. We never asked for you. Third, I’m the customer. How would I know your internal policies?” Panic washed over Brenda’s face. She grabbed Ethan’s arm, her last desperate attempt. “Mr. Hayes, I know I offended Miss Montgomery, and I’m sorry… but maybe… maybe you could just put the deed in your name? I mean… you’re not married yet…” A cold laugh escaped my lips. My parents were covering the down payment. Did Ethan really have the nerve? He took a deep breath and shook her hand off his arm. “Everything is at my fiancée’s discretion.” The manager, realizing I was the one holding the purse strings, turned on Brenda. “What are you waiting for? Apologize to Miss Montgomery right now!” Under his furious gaze, Brenda mumbled a pathetic apology. Then, with Alice guiding us, we didn’t buy the duplex. We bought the 8,000-square-foot penthouse, the one with the rooftop garden and private pool. The total price was just over thirty million dollars. Watching the color drain from Brenda’s face as she realized she’d just lost a commission worth more than her house… I’ll admit, it felt incredible. I thought that was the end of it. But two weeks later, I got a call from Alice. “Miss Montgomery, I’m at the new Highland Greens course out in the suburbs. I just saw Brenda here… with your fiancé.” I frowned. I knew the golf course. It was a wedding gift to Ethan from my father. He’d been spending a lot of time there recently, saying he wanted to get it running perfectly. Alice continued, her voice cautious. “I don’t think she saw me. She was telling one of my clients that she was Mr. Hayes’s executive assistant.” His assistant? A real estate agent had become Ethan’s executive assistant? I forced my voice to remain calm, thanked Alice, and drove straight to the golf course. At the gate, a security guard stopped my car. “Ma’am, do you have a tee time?” he asked, looking my car up and down. “No one gets in without a reservation.” He sized me up, then added with a dismissive smirk, “And the boss says we have to verify assets. No one with less than a million liquid gets past the gate.” I slid off my sunglasses. “Is that right? Your boss has awfully low standards.” I got out of the car and strode past him. He moved to block me, but froze when I spoke again. “By the time I leave today, this club might have a new boss.” I followed the location Alice had sent me. In the distance, I saw them. Ethan’s arms were wrapped around Brenda from behind, his hands over hers on the club, guiding her swing. Their faces were pressed close together. They looked happy. Rage, white-hot and blinding, consumed me. I walked over, grabbed an iron from a nearby bag, and swung it hard against the stone pathway. The explosive CLANG made Brenda jump. “Hey! This section is closed for a private lesson, how did you…” They turned. The moment they saw me, their faces changed. Ethan dropped his hands from Brenda as if she were on fire. He forced a smile. “Sloane! You should have told me you were coming. I would have picked you up.” I pointed the club at Brenda. “What is she doing here?” Brenda’s eyes immediately welled up. She hid behind Ethan, the picture of pitiable innocence. “Miss Montgomery, please don’t blame him. After you broke that dining set in the showroom, I couldn’t afford to pay for it. The company fired me.” Her voice trembled. “I had nowhere else to go… I had to ask Mr. Hayes for help.” Her words caused a ripple of murmurs among the handful of business partners nearby. Ethan’s face grew dark. For the first time in five years, he raised his voice to me in public. “Sloane, I am the owner of this club. I don’t need your permission to hire staff. Besides, I was there. I saw you break those dishes. I hired Brenda as my assistant to make things right for her. It’s for your own good. We can’t have that kind of story getting out.” The other men nodded in agreement, siding with him. “He’s right, you should be more forgiving,” one of them said to me. “Give the poor girl a break.” The humiliation washed over me, a hot tide of red on my cheeks. In that moment, I felt utterly weak. Faced with their judgment, I couldn’t find the words to defend myself. This was the man I had loved for five years, the man I was going to marry. And he was choosing this woman, this stranger, over me. He had said he believed me. He had lied. Just then, Alice appeared at my side, whispering something urgently in my ear. The world tilted on its axis. My heart plummeted, a sharp pain lancing through my chest. Tears I hadn’t realized were coming streamed down my face. Ethan rarely saw me cry. He panicked. “Sloane, don’t do this. It’s not a big deal.” He reached for me. I slapped his hand away with a ferocity that surprised us both. “Don’t touch me!” I threw the golf club to the ground. “Ethan,” I screamed, my voice raw with pain, “the wedding is off!”

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At thirty-three, single, and child-free, I was happily rotting on my couch, cuddling my cats, when my phone rang. “Hey! Someone dumped a baby in the complex next door. You want it?” Hearing the word “dumped,” my reflex kicked in. “Yes!” I cursed all the way out the door. When I got to the next complex, I froze. I must have inhaled too much cat hair. It wasn’t a dumped kitten. It was a dumped human baby. My mom shoved the bundle into my arms and bolted. Running away, she shouted over her shoulder: “That’s my granddaughter now! Your biological daughter!” “I already filed the paperwork! You’re raising her whether you like it or not!” Resigned, I carried this two-legged money pit home. I raised her with blood, sweat, and tears. Who knew she was actually a billionaire heiress? 1 At thirty-three, I was a professional couch potato. Aside from my six fur babies, I was the only living, breathing thing in the house. “Look at you. Thirty-three. No husband, no kids. You think these cats are going to take care of you when you’re old?” My mom was scooping the litter box on the balcony, nagging as usual. I bobbed my head, in one ear and out the other. She finished scooping and suddenly materialized by my bed. “When you die, no one’s even going to visit your grave.” She was worried sick! I rolled over, turning my back to her. “It’s fine. Someone will visit the wrong grave eventually.” “Besides, I still have you and Dad! I’ll just haunt you guys.” “Worst case, I’ll prepay for my own funeral services.” My mom punched my duvet twice in frustration, stomped her foot, and went to the kitchen to cook. “Honey, if you really don’t want to get married or have kids, that’s fine. But can’t you at least adopt one?” “Your dad and I won’t be around forever. Think about how lonely you’ll be all by yourself… sob…” At the dinner table, she started crying crocodile tears again. “Okay, okay. If I find a suitable one, I’ll adopt.” I brushed her off. My mom stopped crying instantly, eyes gleaming. “Deal!” The next day, I was at home huffing my cat when my mom called. “Hey! There’s a dumped baby in the complex next door. You want it?” Hearing the word “dumped,” I immediately shouted, “Yes!” I stormed out of the house, cursing. On the way, I cursed the person who abandoned it eight hundred times. If you’re going to raise something, raise it to the end! If you really can’t, find it a new home. Abandonment is trash behavior. As a long-time cat owner, I can’t stand words like “abuse” or “abandon.” When I got to the next complex, I was stunned. I must have been high on cat fumes. I didn’t hear her clearly. It wasn’t a dumped kitten. It was a dumped infant. I’ve heard kids are money shredders. Formula alone costs hundreds a month. My wallet couldn’t handle that! Looking at the baby in my mom’s arms, I turned to run. My mom saw me, shoved the baby into my arms, and took off. Running away, she yelled back: “That’s my granddaughter now! Your biological daughter!” “I already filed the paperwork! You’re raising her whether you like it or not!” Helpless, I had to carry this two-legged money shredder home. 2 Back home, the fur babies were fascinated by the creature in my arms, sniffing her non-stop. The kid seemed pretty chill. She didn’t cry or fuss on the way, just stared at me with big, round eyes. I opened her swaddle, and my household register fell out. My mom had actually registered her already. The name was casual as hell: Penny Zhou. Looking at the baby on the bed, I felt dazed. I had a daughter! Then came the endless panic. I’m great with cats, but what do I do with a kid? I can’t feed her kibble, right? “Guys, how do you raise a human? Tutorial needed!” I sent a voice message to my group chat, “The Plastic Sisters.” “Holy sh*t! Sarah, you secretly had a baby behind our backs?” “Which wild man is the father? Confess immediately!” “You didn’t steal it, did you? Kidnapping is a felony, girl. If you really want one, take my two monsters, no thanks needed.” The usually dead group chat exploded. I laughed bitterly. “No, adopted. My mom adopted her for me!” “I don’t know how to raise her! What formula is good? What brand of diapers? Does she need shots?” My brain was swarming with questions. This kid came so suddenly I didn’t even have time to Google. An hour later, the girls showed up at my door with bags of stuff. Diapers, formula, hand-me-down clothes. “Use these for now. We’ll send you the Amazon links later.” My friend Jessica was beaming. Rachel was laughing so hard she couldn’t close her mouth. “Hahaha, just thinking about you suffering through parenting like us makes me so happy.” “Let’s see how you enjoy your ‘freedom’ now, hahahaha.” Emily was scribbling furiously at the table. “I’m writing down all the things to watch out for. Stick it on the wall and read it.” “Raising a kid isn’t like raising a cat. You have to be careful.” The girls stayed until eleven, giving me a crash course in parenting. Then, summoned by their mothers-in-law and husbands, they reluctantly left. Luckily, I’m smart and a quick learner. After struggling for half a month, I got the hang of it. The fur babies were helpful too. Every time the kid cried, peed, or pooped, they’d smell it and come get me. But my bank account hit zero. I usually worked for six months and took a year off. That plan was dead. “How is it? Does being a mother feel blissful?” A month later, my mom, who was hiding out at some relative’s house, video called me. In the video, she looked glowing and smug, while I looked like I’d lost ten pounds. “You want this bliss? You can have it!” I hung up angrily. 3 Time flies. The kid was in elementary school. “Get me two corn dogs on your way home. With sweet chili sauce.” I fished out three dollars and fifty cents from the drawer for my daughter. “Mom, I have a test this afternoon. Also, corn dogs are two dollars each now.” She stood by my bed, puffing her cheeks. I pouted. “I’m fifty cents short. Cover it for me. I’ll pay you back when Grandma sends money.” Yes, I was still leeching off my parents. Before it was just me, now it’s two of us. My mom regretted everything. Afraid I’d spend her granddaughter’s share, she sent the money separately. My daughter sighed like a little adult and walked to the door. “Mom, I have a test today,” she repeated. “Oh. If you don’t know the answers, just skip them. Come out early.” “Why?” She was confused. “If you’re late, the corn dog stand might close.” Bang. The door shut. I shuddered and went back to scrolling TikTok. People say raising kids is hard, but once you get the hang of it, it’s not that bad. My friends’ kids were in middle school, so I dumped Penny on them every few days. Plus, with my mom’s financial support, I had zero stress. I even skimmed off the top sometimes. Most importantly, now that she’s bigger, she can do more than just buy soy sauce! She can buy vinegar, salt, scoop litter, pick up packages, grab takeout… she’s so useful. “Mom, why do you think my biological parents didn’t want me?” When Penny got to middle school, she started asking questions. “Did something happen at school?” I was confused. I never hid that she was abandoned. She never mentioned it before. Why today? Penny slammed the table. “It’s that Chloe Wu in my class! Just because her family is rich, she bullies me.” “Today was parent-teacher conferences. Her dad came in a luxury car. She mocked me in front of the whole class for not having a dad~” “That’s pretty mean. You didn’t roast her back?” It was annoying, but it was a fact. I didn’t want to sugarcoat it. I wanted her to face reality. “Of course I did! I told her to tell her mom to dress up better, or else when my mom steals her dad, she won’t have a dad either.” “Mom, you can do it, right? So many hot guys like you, Chloe’s old dad should be easy.” I choked. I didn’t know she knew about the models I snuck home at night. “Also Mom, I told the teacher you were recovering from childbirth this time. What do I say next time? I’m running out of excuses.” I never went to parent-teacher conferences. Her homeroom teacher was my homeroom teacher. I didn’t want to hear him nag. I looked at my cat, Mr. Whiskers, feeding three kittens in the corner. I had an idea. “Next time, tell him your sister is having her one-month celebration. You really can’t get away.” Penny was speechless and rolled her eyes. Penny overperformed on her high school entrance exams. She got second in the city. I was terrified. “Did you buy the answers? That’s illegal, you know!” Penny’s grades were okay, but second in the city? Impossible. “Oh, Mom. Would I do that?” “I just… peeked a little at the answer sheet of the guy sitting diagonally in front of me. Just a little bit. Hehe~” 4 I was overjoyed. All those fish eyes I fed her growing up weren’t wasted. Good eyes, hit the jackpot. “You copied him and got second? How smart is that kid?” I realized belatedly. Penny shrugged. “He’s the provincial top scorer. The school genius and heartthrob. And his family is loaded.” How can someone be that lucky? Rich, handsome, and smart? “God is unfair!” I lamented. That summer, Penny and I were chilling in the AC when someone knocked. “It must be Grandma bringing money!” Penny ran to open the door, holding half a watermelon. Outside stood a couple. The man in a suit, the woman elegant and expensive-looking. Definitely rich. “It’s her. It’s really her. Exactly the same,” the woman wept. After their explanation, Penny and I were stunned. “You mean… she was swapped by your nanny? You’re her biological parents?” Holy crap! My mom has a gift. She picked up a billionaire heiress! I rubbed my hands excitedly, wondering how much they’d pay me. “Yes. I got suspicious when I saw her at the parent-teacher conference. She looks exactly like my wife did when she was young!” “Forgive me, but I secretly did a DNA test on both girls. Penny is indeed our biological daughter.” The man explained. Penny put down the watermelon and wiped her mouth. “So you’re here to take me away?” The woman hugged her. “Yes, child. We are your real parents. Come home with us, okay?” “You’ve suffered all these years. Mom and Dad will make it up to you.” Hearing “make it up,” I knew we were set. “What about Chloe Wu? What happens to her?” Penny’s question surprised the couple. Especially the wife, a flash of annoyance crossed her face. “Chloe… well, she’ll be your sister from now on. We’ll tell everyone you’re twins!” The man smiled. I felt a bit annoyed. They knew the nanny did it, but they were going to keep raising the criminal’s daughter to annoy their own kid? What were they thinking? “You guys go. I’m not going back with you. I won’t acknowledge you.” Penny pointed at the door. Seeing her kick them out, the man panicked. “Child, don’t you want to be with your real parents?” “Yes, daughter, we are your real mom and dad!” The woman chimed in.

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My tenth-anniversary gift from my husband was a tube of Chanel hand cream. Our son, in a fit of mischief, scrambled onto my vanity while I wasn’t looking. He squeezed it with all his might, and the expensive cream pooled on the floor like a tragic, pearlescent tear. It was the thought that counted, I told myself. So that same day, I drove to the nearest Nordstrom to buy a replacement. The saleswoman gave me a pitying once-over, her eyes scanning my practical jeans and worn-out flats. She shook her head. “Ma’am, we don’t sell this hand cream individually.” Her voice was soft, but the words were sharp. “Your friend must not have explained when they gave it to you. The tube you’re holding… it’s a complimentary gift. It comes with the purchase of our newest Birkin bag.” 1 The proof of my husband’s betrayal walked right up to my table the very next day. The girl—his assistant—had a triumphant look in her eyes. “You should leave Ethan,” she said, without any preamble. “You’re not on his level anymore.” I took a slow sip of my coffee. “Ambition is a good thing in a young woman. But does your boss know you’re running around playing this little game?” Brooke hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Of course, he knows. He’d be with me already if you weren’t dragging him down, refusing to let go.” She leaned forward, her voice a venomous whisper. “I’m younger. I’m prettier. I understand him better than you do. Why shouldn’t it be me at his side?” I looked at her face, perfectly sculpted with makeup, her almond eyes wide with a practiced fury. She was beautiful. There was no denying it. But so was I, ten years ago. “We all get old,” I said, the words feeling tired in my mouth. “Do you really think you’ll stay young forever?” “I’ve been with Ethan for fifteen years. We’ve been married for ten. Our lives, our assets, everything is tied together. What, exactly, are you bringing to the table?” Brooke, sitting across from me, suddenly smiled. A slow, cruel curve of her lips. “Is that so? How’s the hand cream, by the way?” My breath caught. My eyes darted involuntarily to the new, caramel-colored handbag sitting beside her on the bench. “I bet you don’t even know that’s called a Birkin,” she continued, her voice dripping with condescension. “The latest model. I mentioned I wanted it, and Ethan bought it for me the next day.” “It came with a little gift set of hand creams. I picked out the scent I hated the most and told him to give it to whoever. I guess that was you.” She casually lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a diamond-encrusted watch on her slender wrist. The design was painfully familiar. My stomach dropped. I had that exact watch saved in my online shopping cart. I’d look at it every night before bed, a secret little indulgence. But with our son Liam’s private school tuition rivaling a mortgage, I could never justify the expense. It was a waste of money, I’d told myself. A few weeks ago, Ethan had presented it to me. Our ten-year anniversary. I’d refused, pushing the box back into his hands. “Liam’s expenses are only going to go up. I barely go anywhere fancy. Please, just return it.” He’d thought for a moment, then pulled the tube of hand cream from his suit pocket and gave it to me instead. I thought he’d returned the watch. I never imagined he’d just given it to someone else. I stared at Brooke’s perfectly curled eyelashes, my own reflection hazy in the cafe window behind her. I could see the fine lines around my eyes, the exhaustion etched into my face. She was right. Men hit their prime in their thirties, turning into silver foxes. And me? What did I have to show for the last decade, besides a child and a growing sense of irrelevance? 2 I drove home in a daze, her words echoing in my head. When I pushed open the door, Ethan was on the floor, laughing and playing with Liam. He’d finally wrapped up a massive project at work, and for the first time in months, our home was filled with the sound of a father and son. I had treasured these fleeting moments. I’d cook his favorite meals, timing them perfectly for his arrival. But today, my rare trip out had broken the routine. He looked up and smiled. “Where’d you go today? Can’t believe you’d abandon our little guy like that. You’re a mean mommy!” he teased. “Right, Liam?” Our son nodded solemnly. “Mommy’s mean! Didn’t play cars with me!” A wave of fatigue washed over me. “And what about you, Ethan?” My voice was flat. “When you’re ‘working late,’ are you really thinking about providing for this family? Or are you thinking about how to get closer to your little secretary?” Ethan’s smile vanished. He put down the Lego brick in his hand. In the next second, he waved over the nanny. “Liam, Mommy and Daddy need to talk. Why don’t you go play in your room for a bit?” Once Liam was gone, his expression turned serious. He walked over, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Alice, what’s wrong? Who have you been talking to?” I let out a cold, bitter laugh. “What, I don’t have eyes? I can’t see what’s right in front of my face? What is going on between you and your assistant?” Ethan sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “She’s just a kid from the new team. I’ve been mentoring her. That’s it.” “Just mentoring? Not sleeping with her? Nothing else?” I studied his face, still as handsome as the day I met him. God, life had been kind to him. The years had barely touched his features, only softening the sharp edges of his youth into a mature, powerful charm. Money, power, a family. Did he have so much that he needed the thrill of something new? I asked him as much. Ethan had always been gentle, patient. Even after Liam was born and I was drowning in postpartum complications, battling a depression that felt like a thick fog, he had been my rock. He held me, coaxed me back to myself, and helped me navigate the disorienting transition from woman to mother. But today, the look in his eyes was different. It was… annoyed. “What is this about, Alice? What are you trying to start now?” “You’re the one who said I work too much, that I don’t have time for you and Liam. So I pulled a month of all-nighters just to clear my schedule for a few days. And now that I’m finally home, you want to fight?” His face was a mask of disbelief. I just stared at him. “So tell me,” I said quietly. “Why does she get the Birkin, and I get the free sample?” “It was her birthday, and she’s had a great quarter. Is it wrong for a boss to buy his employee a gift?” he shot back, his voice rising. “You’re at home all day with nothing to do, so you decide to invent problems? To come after me?” Perhaps he saw the look on my face, because his tone softened slightly. He reached for me again. “Besides, I bought you the watch you wanted. You’re the one who turned it down.” “Honey, I’m sorry, okay? Can we just drop this? Don’t be angry.” There it was. His classic move. Whenever he didn’t want to talk, he’d apologize first, shutting down the conversation before it could even begin. I thought of all the years I’d poured into this family, managing his life, raising our son, only for him to dismiss it all with a single, careless phrase. “At home all day with nothing to do.” Just then, Liam ran out from his room and hugged my leg. “Mommy, don’t be mad at Daddy. Daddy works so hard. Can you please stop being cranky?” I looked at the two of them, my husband and my son, and a profound weariness settled into my bones. Before I could say another word, Ethan scooped Liam into his arms. “See? Liam gets it. Come on, buddy, let’s go finish that Lego castle.” He walked away without a backward glance. The nanny stood awkwardly in the hallway. “Mrs. Miller…” I just waved a hand, dismissing her. “You can go home early tonight.” 3 That night, Ethan didn’t come to the master bedroom. He always did this. He had no patience for making up. He’d offer a small, flimsy olive branch, and if I didn’t immediately take it, he’d snatch it back. It used to be the study. Now that we had Liam, it was our son’s room. He called it “father-son bonding time.” A convenient excuse. No matter how furious I was, I could never bring myself to drag him out of there in front of our child, to ruin his image as the perfect father. I lay in our king-sized bed, staring at the cold, empty ceiling. This wasn’t just paranoia. I didn’t know when it started, but Ethan began coming home later and later. The excuse was always the same: work. One night, I couldn’t take it anymore. On the pretense of bringing him dinner, I went to his office. And I saw her. Brooke. Her long, silky hair fell over his shoulder as she leaned in to point at a document, and neither of them seemed to notice or care. Watching them, a siren went off in my head. That was when I started insisting. No matter what, you need to come home earlier. “If you don’t get home soon,” I’d joked, trying to keep my tone light, “Liam’s going to forget what his daddy looks like.” Back then, Ethan had just smiled indulgently. “Alright. Whatever my wife says, goes.” Fifteen years together, ten years married. I had always believed we were best friends, perfect partners. When did that change? Was this just what happened to middle-aged couples? Constant friction, endless arguments, staying together for the kids? Maybe I really was overthinking the bag. The next morning, I got up early. I made his favorite dessert, a rich crème brûlée I’d perfected back when we were dating, and had our driver take me to his office. When we were eighteen, we were inseparable. He sat behind me in calculus, always tugging gently on my ponytail and passing me a bottle of iced tea. We started dating in college, and on a sweltering summer trip to New Orleans, we discovered a little cafe that made the most incredible crème brûlée. It became our thing. For years, no argument was so big it couldn’t be soothed by the crack of caramelized sugar. The last time we’d fought this badly was three years ago. He’d been giving me the silent treatment for days. But when I held a spoonful of the dessert up to his lips, he’d opened his mouth. “Some people,” I’d teased him then, “are thirty years old and still have a sweet tooth.” He had taken my hand. “It’s not that I have a sweet tooth. It’s that I love you. And because I love you, I’m willing to let this sweetness be enough of a reason to forgive you.” 4 When I arrived at the office, I headed for the private elevator, but the receptionist at the front desk stopped me. “Ma’am, you can’t go up without an appointment.” I balanced the insulated bag in my hand and gave her a polite smile. “It’s alright, I’m here to see the CEO. I’m his wife.” “I’ve never heard that the CEO was married,” she said, her expression blank. Then, it shifted into a look of smug disdain. “Oh, another one trying to claim a connection.” “You can wait over there, but honestly, without an appointment, you’re not getting in. Besides,” she added, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “the CEO is basically taken. You’ve heard of his assistant, Brooke, right? Brilliant girl, top of her class. She’s been chasing him for ages, and even she hasn’t sealed the deal. I’d just give up if I were you.” I stood there, a cold dread creeping up my spine. Finally, I reached into my purse and pulled out the spare key card Ethan had given me ages ago. In front of the receptionist’s stunned face, I swiped it and the doors to the executive elevator slid open. The elevator didn’t open directly into his office; you had to walk through the executive wing first. Usually, it was quiet up here. Today, I could hear a group of people laughing and talking, huddled around someone’s desk. “Brooke, you’re a miracle worker! Thanks to you, the afternoon snack budget has tripled!” “Seriously, we used to get granola bars. Now it’s lattes and cupcakes every day. The boss is really pulling out all the stops to make you happy!” “What can we say? The man’s got a favorite!” Brooke, surrounded by her admirers, blushed demurely. And then her eyes met mine. I walked calmly toward the group. I reached her, extended my hand, and slapped her across the face. When Ethan and I started the company, it was just the two of us and a handful of dreamers. After I left to raise Liam, the old-timers slowly drifted away, one by one. Years had passed. Now, it seemed no one even knew he had a wife who’d built this place with him. But even if the whole world forgot, Brooke, his executive assistant, knew exactly who I was. My voice was steady, laced with ice. “I don’t recall receiving a memo that the position of CEO’s wife was open for applications.”

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Ethan Hayes—the one man in New York City with enough gravitational pull to bend the world to his will—crashed his car. Totaled it. And when he woke up, his memory had reset, stopping the clock three years in the past. He found me, his face a mask of irritation. “So I had dinner with my ex. Is that it? How long are you going to keep this up?” I just stared at him. For a moment, the world tilted. Then, I bent down and lifted the little girl hiding behind my legs. Through his shocked silence, I found my voice, quiet but steady. “Ethan, we broke up three years ago.” I let the words hang in the air between us. “I’m… I’m married now. I have a daughter.” 1 I was propped up in bed, scrolling through my phone after finally getting my daughter, Maya, to sleep. That’s when the news alert popped up. “February 17, 9:00 PM: Ethan Hayes, Chairman and CEO of Sterling Corp, was involved in a single-vehicle collision in Lower Manhattan. He has been transported to Mount Sinai with what sources report as a severe head trauma and is currently unconscious. For developing details, follow MetroPulse News…” The thumbnail was a picture of a Bugatti, crumpled like a discarded piece of foil. The next photo showed Ethan, head bloodied, being lifted onto a stretcher. Even unconscious, his brow was furrowed in that perpetually frustrated way I knew so well. A strange sense of vertigo washed over me. I hadn’t seen the man in three years. The memories—the whispered intimacies, the gut-wrenching sobs that felt like they would tear me apart—I once believed they were branded onto my soul. But a thousand days is a long time. Long enough for a scar to fade, for a ghost to become a stranger. I closed my eyes, ready to put my phone down and surrender to sleep, when a series of violent bangs echoed from my front door. BAM. BAM. BAM. My first thought was Maya. I slid out of bed, terrified the noise would wake her, and hurried to the living room. I peered through the peephole and my blood ran cold. Ethan. A white bandage was wrapped around his head, already seeping red at the edges. His face was twisted with impatience. “Audrey, open the damn door!” his voice, muffled but unmistakable, came through the wood. “I know you’re in there. The doorman told me!” My mind was a chaotic swirl. I felt myself unlock the door before I’d even made a conscious decision. “You were just in an accident,” I stammered as he pushed past me. “How are you even—” He moved through my apartment like he owned it, his gaze snagging for a split second on a pair of men’s slippers by the door before moving on. “It’s freezing,” he griped, shoving his designer coat into my hands. “What the hell are you doing in a shithole like this? The penthouse I got you? What, you forgot the address?” The sheer, casual entitlement of it all stunned me into silence. The last time I saw him, three years ago, our breakup had been spectacularly ugly. His face had been a thundercloud, his eyes drilling into me with a look so venomous I thought he might actually kill me. “Audrey,” he’d snarled, “you and your little boyfriend better stay the hell away from me. I can’t guarantee what will happen to him if you don’t.” Now, he acted as if none of that had ever happened. He sank into my sofa, patted the cushion next to him, and looked up at me from under his lashes with that familiar, careless air. “Come here.” The warm, dim light of the lamp softened him, but his eyes were the same—slightly upturned, sharp with a cutting edge that on anyone else would look cruel. But on his impossibly handsome face, it just looked like rebellious confidence. I took a step back, my brow furrowing. “What are you doing here, Ethan? We broke up.” He let out a short, derisive laugh. “Come on. You think I don’t know you?” He studied my face. “You’ve been home crying again the last couple of days, haven’t you?” “That’s enough.” He waved a dismissive hand, his patience already fraying. “So I took Amelia to the hospital. Are you really going to be this petty about it?” When I didn’t move, Ethan’s jaw tightened. He stood, closed the distance between us, and pulled me toward him. His hand, all long fingers and prominent knuckles, came to rest on my stomach. His voice softened, laced with a tenderness that made my skin crawl. “I know. You’re pregnant, your hormones are all over the place, right?” He looked into my eyes. “If you want this baby so badly, then we’ll keep it. I’ve already picked out names. If it’s a boy, we’ll call him Julian. If it’s a girl…” That’s when it finally clicked. The puzzle pieces of his bizarre behavior slammed into place. The Ethan standing in front of me, the words he was saying… they were from three years ago. I grabbed his wrist, my voice catching in my throat. “Ethan… do you have amnesia?” He paused, then shrugged it off. “That’s what they’re all saying. Total bullshit. My head’s a little fuzzy, but it’s nothing important. You can fill me in on the details later.” He pulled me into an embrace, his head tilted up, his eyes filled with a look of pure adoration, as if the last three years had been nothing but a bad dream. I pushed him away, fighting to keep my voice even. “Ethan, we already broke up. I—” He cut me off, the warmth vanishing from his face. “Audrey, don’t push it.” A smirk played on his lips, dripping with the arrogance I remembered so well. “You really think I’d believe that? You’ve been by my side for years. If you were going to leave, you would have done it already.” He leaned in, his voice a low, confident whisper. “You can’t leave me.” Just then, a small sound from the hallway. The click of a doorknob turning. I shoved Ethan away, hard. My daughter emerged, rubbing her sleepy eyes, a well-loved stuffed rabbit clutched in her hand. “Mommy?” Her tiny brow wrinkled as she looked at the strange man in our living room. “Who is he?”

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Before our wedding, my fiancé, Julian, was kidnapped while picking up my dress. He survived but claimed he’d forgotten me. Any mention of the wedding and he’d pass out. The doctor said it was a stress-induced second personality. Then I found out I was pregnant. The doctor said, “A baby might be the very thing to wake up the man who loves you!” I drove to his place with the sonogram, hope pounding in my chest, only to overhear him laughing with his friends: “Julian, you’re a goddamn genius. Faking a second personality just to get out of the wedding? What’s next, a third?” “No,” Julian said. “I love Maya. This is the only time I’ll ever lie to her. I just need to sleep with ten more women, then I’ll stop.” “Ten? That’s it? You can’t even try every position with ten. Just keep the act up for a year. It’s not like Maya’s going anywhere. She’d die for you.” His voice turned cold. “I’d never make her wait that long. Now, are you guys gonna find me some girls or not? I want them hot, and I want them new. One every three days. I’m not letting this mess up my wedding timeline.” My hand trembled as I tore the ultrasound picture to shreds. I turned around and drove straight back to the hospital to schedule the abortion. 1 When the doctor saw me back so soon, she thought something was wrong. When I told her I wanted to terminate, her jaw dropped. “Maya, you’ve been trying for so long for this baby. If you do this… it could be the shock that makes your fiancé’s condition… permanent.” I gave her a bitter smile. “Honestly, if I told him the truth, that’s what would probably make him collapse for good.” He was too busy enjoying his buffet of “hot, new” women. I still couldn’t understand it. This was the man who had begged me, with tears in his eyes, to marry him. The doctor, unable to change my mind, insisted on calling Julian before I signed the consent forms. “Maya, this isn’t just your decision. Even if his… illness… makes him not want this right now, he should be here. He should sign off. What if this is all a misunderstanding?” I just stroked my flat stomach. I didn’t fight her. I have PCOS. Getting pregnant was a miracle. Julian knew it. He didn’t care; he fought with his parents just to be with me, “child-free” or not. If I was giving up this miracle, he deserved to be the one to hang up on it. The doctor was barely two sentences in when Julian’s laugh, cold and sharp, came through the speaker. “How much did Maya pay you to pull this stunt? I told you, I don’t know her, and I’m sure as hell not marrying her.” “And tell her to stop with these pathetic-ass traps. Who’s to say the kid’s even mine?” The click of the disconnect echoed in the silent surgical prep room. I signed the forms myself and closed my eyes. When I woke up, my phone was buzzing. Several texts. All from Julian. 【Look, I don’t care what we were. This is me now. You need to get your shit and move out of my house.】 He was so “thoughtful.” He’d rented a fully furnished apartment for me in the same complex. He’d even paid the first month’s rent. He’d signed a one-year lease, just so it looked legitimate. 【Consider the first month a parting gift. You don’t need to pay me back.】 I looked at the biohazard bag on the table, the one holding the bloody tissue that was supposed to be our baby. I typed, my hand steady: 【Okay. Thanks.】 I’d let the rent be his only contribution. He didn’t contact me for the three days I was in recovery. His Instagram story, however, was a nightly reel of club lights and clinking glasses. He was making up for all the “lost time” he’d spent being faithful to me. I knew it was for me. My burner account, which he’d also accepted a follow from, couldn’t see a single post. So I gave him what he wanted. I liked every video. I was checking out when I saw him, sprinting down the hall with a doctor, pushing a gurney. He saw me, turned his head, and pretended I was invisible. But I heard the ER doctor shouting. “I need Room 1 prepped! Patient has a corpus luteum rupture, massive internal bleeding! Get me four units of RH-negative, stat!” “What do you mean, we’re out?!” The doctor hung up his phone, panicked, and relayed the news to Julian. Julian, who had just snubbed me, stopped dead. He ran to me. “Maya. If you donate blood to Chloe, I’ll… I’ll forget all about this stalking shit.” I just stared at him. “I’m not stalking you…” “Whatever! Just shut up, we’re wasting time!” He grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the doctor. “She’s RH-negative. Take as much as you need.” I tried to pull my arm back, but he was too strong. I just laughed. “You don’t know me, remember? How do you know my blood type?” I held his gaze, waiting. 2 Julian ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Is this really the time? Fine! If we were together for six years, it makes sense that in a crisis, my subconscious would remember you’re a universal donor, okay?” But I’d just had a D&C. I was still bleeding. “I can’t,” I said, my voice flat. “I just had an abortion. I’m not stable enough. Find someone else.” Julian’s face turned purple. “You’d lie about that? You keep saying you love me, but you won’t donate a little blood to save a life? You’d actually lie about an abortion?” He shook his head, disgusted. “I knew it. You’re a cold, manipulative bitch. No wonder I can’t remember a single second of loving you.” He wasn’t wrong. If he’d ever truly loved me, he wouldn’t be standing here, blind to the fact that my face was as pale as his new girlfriend’s. He wouldn’t be forcing me to save the woman he was cheating with. The monitors on the gurney shrieked. The doctor didn’t have time for this; he rushed Chloe to the ER. Julian tried to drag me with them. When I dug my heels in, he just grunted, grabbed me by the waist, and slung me over his shoulder. “Maya, I don’t care if you want to or not! I’ll owe you one! I’ll… I’ll marry you! We’ll have the wedding, just like you want!” All the fight went out of me. He’d saved my life once, years ago, pulling me from a car wreck. I guess this made us even. I watched my blood, dark and warm, fill the bag. My heart turned to ice. The second the needle was out, Julian snatched the bag and ran with the nurse. I called out to his retreating back. “Julian! We’re clear!” A wave of dizziness hit me. The world went black. I woke up in a recovery bed. The doctor looked like she wanted to scream at me. Instead, she just sighed. “You need to rest. And you can’t donate again for at least six months.” I smiled. “Okay.” As she was leaving, I heard the young nurse whisper to her, “Why didn’t you tell her we couldn’t reach her emergency contact? What if she’s mad…?” “She’s not mad,” the doctor said. “She knows. God, what a waste. He’s not worth it.” I looked at my phone. The doctor had tried Julian more than a dozen times. He hadn’t picked up. But he had found time to text me. 【Maya, what the fuck is your problem? Stop having the hospital call me. Know your place.】 I was almost glad he hadn’t answered. I couldn’t imagine the things he would have said. I didn’t reply. I just lay there for a full day until I had the strength to stand. I went to the hospital’s rooftop garden for some sun. And of course, Julian’s friends were there. They were all holding flowers and fruit baskets. For a second, I thought they were for me. I turned to leave. But they’d already seen me. They surrounded me, smirking at my hospital gown. “Well, well. Heard Julian was here with his new girl, so you had to fake an illness, too? That’s commitment.” “Seriously, Maya. You gave a little blood. You didn’t have to put on the ‘damsel in distress’ act.” “Damn, her ‘sick’ makeup is flawless, though. I always said you were a schemer. Julian never believed us…” Julian’s friends had always hated me. They thought I wasn’t good enough. Julian had forced them to call me “sis.” Now, they had his permission to finally say what they really thought. Julian himself came up from the elevator, saw me, and scowled. “Maya, are you serious?” “I already said I’d marry you. You don’t have to bribe the doctors to check you in so you can spy on me. Do you have any idea how suffocating this is?” “I’m telling you right now, if you pull this shit after we’re married, we won’t last a year.” 3 “You don’t have to marry me.” For six years, I’d given him space. When he wanted to go out, I was the designated driver. When he wanted a “boys’ trip,” I booked their flights and hotels. He’d offer me his phone to “check,” and I’d always refused. I loved him, and I refused to be the controlling, suffocating woman my mother was, the woman who drove my father away. I thought I’d given him the perfect, trusting relationship. We were, I thought, just as in love as we were in college. Now I knew. My love was “suffocating.” That’s why he needed to escape? I looked him in the eye, searching for one shred of the man I knew. There was nothing. He saw the look on my face and tensed. He snatched a bouquet of lilies from his friend Ryan and shoved them at me. “Fine. Whatever. Take the flowers and get out of here. You got what you wanted.” He thought I was the same girl who’d be happy with a cheap gift. He thought he could do anything, and I’d still be waiting, because I was the girl who “would die for him.” I pushed the flowers back. “These are for your girlfriend. Not me.” “And I’m serious,” I said, my voice finally clear. “The blood was a gift. You don’t have to marry me.” A flicker of panic crossed his face. She’s not supposed to say that. “Maya, I…” His friends all coughed loudly. He reset his face. “I’m a man of my word, Maya. We’re getting married.” I just smiled. “Go be with your girlfriend. I’m checking out.” His panic grew. He didn’t know this version of me. Ryan and the others grabbed him, pulling him toward the elevator. “C’mon, man, Chloe’s waiting. She’s just playing hard to get. It’s what they do, right? First the victim card, now this.” “Yeah, man, what you did… getting a girl that hot, but also that… fragile… You’re lucky she’s tough. Unlike some people, who faint over a little needle prick and demand a wedding…” I heard them all the way down the hall. I didn’t feel pain. Just… cold. I went back to our condo while I knew he’d be at the hospital. I called a cleaning service. The lead cleaner saw the decorations, the “Mr.” and “Mr.” (we were both Yizhou in the original) pillows, the boxes of wedding favors. “Ma’am, this is all brand new. You want me to… throw it all away?” “Yes. My fiancé died.” She gave me a look of such pity. She and her team were ruthless. They took down the giant wedding photos first. In a few hours, every trace of “us” was gone. Every photo album, every gift, every stupid souvenir from six years of my life. The woman pointed to the ten black trash bags by the door. “Are you sure, honey? This is a lot of… memories.” “I’m sure.” I deleted my fingerprint from the smart lock and walked away. 4 I didn’t go to the apartment Julian rented. I checked into a private recovery clinic. I’d almost forgotten about the security cameras at the condo. The notification popped up on my phone. I clicked it. Julian and Chloe, stumbling in, kissing. He saw the empty room and shoved her away. “What the hell?” He pulled out his phone. It rang once before Chloe snatched it. “Nuh-uh. You’re with me now. No-exes-allowed.” Her hands were already unbuttoning his shirt. He hesitated, then growled and pushed her against the wall, his mouth on hers. I’d never seen him like that. Not even our first time. He was… feral. Clothes hit the floor. “Julian… baby… be gentle, I just got out of the hospital…” He was panting, his eyes red. “I can’t. I’ve been… God, I’m so backed up. You get on top.” Chloe’s eyes glittered. “Only if you tell me… who do you love more? Me… or her?” The fire in his eyes died. He went cold. “Maya is my fiancée. What do you think?” “We had a deal,” he snapped. “A good time. That’s it. If your body wasn’t so damn fragile, you wouldn’t even be here right now.” Chloe’s face crumpled. She slid off him, tears streaming. “How can you say that? I almost died for you! Go on, then! Go find someone else!” Julian, the man who hated tears, instantly melted. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her, murmuring. I watched, numb, as they moved from the living room to our… to his… bedroom. He’d seen me cry every day for a month after his “accident.” He’d told me to stop being manipulative. He’d paraded women in front of me, saying, “Even if I loved you, a little fun doesn’t hurt.” I was so, so glad I didn’t have that baby. I logged out of the camera app and deleted my account. The next morning, he called me. The first time since the kidnapping. I sent it to voicemail. He texted. 【Maya, what the fuck? I said I’d marry you. Why did you throw out all our wedding shit?】 I lied. 【This place has bad vibes. I bought a beach house. Moved my stuff there.】 A new follower request popped up. Chloe. I declined. She sent it again. Message: I have a video of you and Julian you might want to see. I accepted. She immediately sent me a video. But it was of… her and Julian. Two minutes later, a string of crying emojis. 【Omgggg, sis, I’m so sorry! I thought that was you! It won’t let me delete it! I was wondering why Julian was so…energetic… I guess he just really, really likes me!】 【Honestly, if I were you, I’d take a class or something. You don’t want to lose a man like that!】 A Venmo notification. $10,000. Memo: For the blood. I’d rather pay cash than in ‘husband.’ XOXO. See you at the wedding! I declined the payment. 【Consider it my wedding gift. Best of luck.】 I blocked her. I spent the next two weeks healing. My flight was booked. I was leaving to stay with my best friend, Leah. I went to the jewelers to buy Leah a gift. I remembered… our rings. The custom ones I designed. I had to get them. The jeweler looked at me with pity. “Mr. Julian picked those up last week, ma’am.” Of course he did. I walked out, and ran right into him. And Chloe. Their hands were linked. They were wearing my rings. Julian saw me looking. “Maya… the rings…” “They look good on you,” I said, and turned. “Maya, wait!” “Julian!” Chloe whined, pulling him back. “You promised you’d take me to my dress fitting!” I didn’t look back. The day of the wedding, I left the clinic and got in a cab to the airport. At the same time, Julian’s friends, a makeup artist, and my custom gown arrived at the empty apartment. They rang the bell. No answer. The neighbor poked her head out. “You guys looking for someone? No one’s lived there for a month.”

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I bought a second-hand camera on eBay. When it arrived, I found a ghost inside: my seventeen-year-old self. It was always my profile or the back of my head. The unmistakable angle of a secret crush. I was baffled. Then I glanced at my phone and saw Twitter was on fire. #Actor Leo Wilder’s Former Assistant Sells His Personal Belongings for Exorbitant Prices# A moment later, a message from the eBay seller popped up. 【The camera is mine.】 【I didn’t want to sell it.】 【Can I please have it back?】 1 I stared at the small screen of the camera in my hand, a knot of surprise and confusion tightening in my stomach. I’d bought the vintage CCD camera a couple of days ago. It was an ancient model, but they took incredible photos, and a recent trend had made them popular again. I’d caved and bought one. But when it arrived, I found the unexpected ghost in the machine: me, in high school. The background was the school’s athletic field. Judging by the date stamp, it was the big track and field meet our sophomore year. There I was, seventeen-year-old Joanna, in my gym uniform and a high ponytail, sitting makeup-free in the bleachers. The photographer must have been some distance away, because the image was slightly blurred. Seeing all those familiar faces of old classmates, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. But then I noticed something strange. As I scrolled through the next dozen photos, I was in every single one. My colleague and lunch buddy, Talia, just back from her coffee run, leaned over my desk. “Hey, isn’t that you? Who took this? It’s so blurry.” “No idea,” I said, shaking my head. I figured the camera’s original owner must have been some anonymous classmate. Talia suddenly grinned. “Ooh, look at this. Always your profile or the back of your head. This is total secret admirer footage,” she declared. “Whoever took these was definitely crushing on you.” I laughed it off. “It has to be a coincidence.” After all, there were plenty of other people in the shots. Maybe the photographer was just sitting near me and I ended up in the frame by accident. The memory card came with the camera; the seller probably forgot to check it before shipping. Worried the photos might be important to them, I’d messaged the seller on the app as soon as I found them. But by the time my lunch break rolled around, there was still no reply. Waiting for the elevator, Talia was scrolling through Twitter, as usual. Her eyes widened. “Oh my god, you have to see what’s trending.” She shoved her phone in my face. The number one trending topic had a fiery little “EXPLODING” icon next to it. #Actor Leo Wilder’s Former Assistant Sells His Personal Belongings# As we stepped into the elevator, Talia kept dishing the gossip. “Assistants these days have some nerve. You can’t just sell a celebrity’s private stuff.” “Leo Wilder has the worst luck,” she continued. “I wonder if there was anything valuable in the stuff they sold. It’s probably impossible to get any of it back now.” I opened my own Twitter app and clicked on the trending topic. Leo Wilder’s studio had released a statement just a minute ago, confirming they’d already filed a police report and were pursuing legal action. Leo had just won a major, prestigious award last month; his career was at an all-time high. He wasn’t a Juilliard grad, just a raw, natural talent who had spent years building a reputation for having zero scandals. The only thing his rivals could ever dig up was his humble background. For a story like this to break now was, unsurprisingly, causing a stir. Celebrities are usually obsessed with their public image, so taking it straight to the police was a rare move. He must have lost something incredibly valuable. “By the way,” Talia added, “that new reality show our network is about to start filming… I saw Leo Wilder on the list of potential guests. He’s probably coming in to sign the contract in the next couple of days.” The elevator chimed, the display showing ‘1’. Then Talia seemed to remember something. “Wait, didn’t you and Leo Wilder go to the same high school? Did you two know each other back then?” An image flashed in my mind—a rainy afternoon in high school. The stuffy, noisy diner by the school gate. A boy sitting across the table from me, his head bowed quietly as he ate a bowl of ramen. I shook my head. “We weren’t really close.” Ding. The elevator doors slid open. And standing right in front of me, as if summoned by the words I’d just spoken, was the man himself. 2 Our eyes met. Before I could process it, he had already shifted his gaze away. Even with the mask covering half his face, I recognized Leo Wilder instantly. His manager, Marcus, stood beside him. Judging by the grim expressions on both their faces, the Twitter scandal was hitting them hard. Marcus started to say something, but stopped when he noticed us in the elevator, swallowing his words. They stepped aside to let us pass. It wasn’t until they were in the elevator and the doors were closing that Talia finally found her breath. “Holy crap, was that actually Leo Wilder?” So, the contract signing was today. I didn’t say anything, just pressed my lips together. A strange, inexplicable awkwardness washed over me. In that brief moment our eyes met, I couldn’t tell if he had recognized me. And I had no idea if he’d overheard what I’d just said. When we stepped out of the building, we found a light rain had started falling. Neither of us had an umbrella. Lunch break was precious time for corporate drones like us. Defeated, Talia gave up on her quest for food. “Forget it, I’m just gonna go make instant noodles upstairs,” she sighed. “Joanna, what about you?” I was about to say I’d go back with her when a man’s voice called out from behind us. “Excuse me, ladies. A gentleman asked me to bring you these.” It was the man from the front desk. He was smiling, holding two umbrellas. They were high-quality, branded with our company’s logo—the kind we kept for important guests. Talia accepted one, looking completely bewildered, then her expression turned to delight. “Well, I have no idea who sent this, but what a gentleman.” I stared at the umbrella in my hand, lost in thought for a moment. When I got back to my desk after lunch, my boss waved me over. The office was mostly empty during the break. “Joanna, perfect. Can you come with me for a second?” Confused, I followed her. “That new variety show we’re launching—I remember you signed up to work on it, right?” she asked. “The talent’s team is here today to sign the contracts. I’d like you to go be the point person for them.” Just then, the door to the conference room swung open. “I did what you asked. Now don’t you go backing out of your promise to drop the lawsuit…” Marcus’s voice trailed off when he saw it was me again. Leo stood with his back to me, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window at the city below. I only heard him give a soft, low “Mm.” “Hello, Mr. Wilder.” I stepped forward and introduced myself. “I’m the production coordinator assigned to you. My name is Joanna.” The man with his back to me seemed to stiffen for a fraction of a second before he turned to face me. This time, his mask was off, and I could see his face clearly. He hadn’t changed much since high school. He just looked at me for two long seconds, then turned his head away again. “I know.” He said, “I know,” not “I see,” or “Got it.” As if he were saying, I know. Your name is Joanna. As if he were saying, I remember you. You’re Joanna. 3 I suppose Leo and I weren’t complete strangers. Freshman year, I was a hall monitor. On my duty nights, I caught him hopping the fence to skip evening study hall more than once. I found out later he was leaving to work part-time jobs. Everyone in our class knew Leo’s family didn’t have money. After a while, I got used to it. Sometimes, if I was in a good mood, I’d turn a blind eye. Leo never said much. But after he realized I was letting him go, he started bringing me little things when he came back. I was a boarding student and rarely got to leave campus. Sometimes it was a hot pretzel from a street cart, other times a bag of cheap candy from the corner store. The time I remember most clearly was that winter. I got my period and the cramps were awful. I’d run out of the instant heating pads I kept in my dorm, so I asked Leo if he could pick some up for me on his way back from work. When he returned after study hall, he casually shoved a bag into my arms. Back in my room, I opened it. Inside, besides a huge box of heating pads, were three different kinds of chocolate bars. To everyone else, Leo and I barely knew each other. He was a C-student; I was consistently in the top three of our year. No one knew that on every night I was on duty, as he slipped past me in the hallway, he would quietly ask the same question. “Need anything tonight?” “An umbrella. It’s raining. Be careful climbing the fence; don’t slip.” “…” When we were sorted into different classes for sophomore year, Leo and I saw less and less of each other. The freshmen took over hall monitoring duties. I don’t know if Leo ever got caught hopping the fence again. Life got busy. I had new classes, a new circle of friends, and I quickly forgot about it all. Sophomore year, I had a short-lived, ambiguous thing with the most popular guy in my class, Ethan. For Memorial Day, the school gave us a rare two-day weekend. My English teacher asked me to stay late to help grade papers. By the time I left the main building, a sudden downpour had started. My hair was half-soaked by the time I ducked into the little ramen shop across from the school gate. It was June, and the air was already thick and humid. Water had seeped into my shoes, and my socks clung to my feet, sticky and miserable. I ordered a lemonade and sat by the window, waiting out the rain and texting Ethan. When I looked up again, someone was sitting at my table. The shop had filled up quickly because of the storm. It was a four-person table, and a boy had taken the seat diagonally across from me. It was Leo. Our eyes met. I was surprised, but I nodded at him. “Hey. Small world.” Leo nodded back. And then, silence. Feeling the awkwardness, I took a few sips of my lemonade and stared out at the rain, praying it would stop. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Leo had ordered a bowl of ramen. He didn’t seem very hungry; he ate slowly, deliberately. So slowly, in fact, that he didn’t make a single sound. The other tables were buzzing with conversation, but ours was unnervingly quiet. Outside, the rain fell harder. Time seemed to stretch on forever. I don’t know how long I sat there, but suddenly the door chimed as it opened. It was Ethan. He’d already gone home, but after seeing my texts about being trapped by the rain, he’d come all the way back to school with an umbrella for me. “Joanna,” he called from the doorway, a gentle smile on his face. “I’ll walk you home.” As I was leaving, I glanced back one last time. The shop was filled with the clamor of voices. Leo was looking down at his bowl, as if he hadn’t noticed a thing. As the door opened again, a gust of wind and rain blew in, cutting through the stuffy air inside. Leo finished the last of his ramen in two quick bites and paid his bill. Then he turned. And walked out, alone, into the rain. 4 After we finished our meeting, I offered to walk the two of them downstairs. On the way, Marcus took a call. He said he had to handle something and told Leo to wait for him in the car. The elevator doors closed again. The small space now held just the two of us. I watched his reflection in the mirrored wall of the elevator. Maybe it was the unexpected trip down memory lane, but the little bit of awkwardness I’d felt earlier seemed to melt away. “It’s crazy, right?” I said, my tone light and friendly. “It’s been years since we’ve seen each other.” Leo, who had been quiet this whole time, finally turned to look at me properly. He said flatly, “I thought we weren’t close.” “…” His words froze the smile on my face. Any other attempts at reminiscing died in my throat. I guess he holds a grudge. “Oh, right. We’re not,” I said, my expression turning blank. “No idea who would send an umbrella to a practical stranger, then.” Leo: “…” We held each other’s gaze for a few seconds. He looked away first, unable to meet my eyes, but the tips of his ears were turning a deep shade of red. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Leo, are you serious? You’re the one who started ignoring me out of nowhere.” At the start of senior year, for reasons I never understood, Leo suddenly began to distance himself from me. He quit all his part-time jobs and threw himself into studying for the SATs. We were in different classes by then, and he was naturally a quiet person anyway. Senior year was a blur of college applications and early admission interviews for me, so I didn’t have time to worry about anything else. Our connection just… faded. I heard later that he got into a decent university. While he was there, he took a job as an extra on a film set, got spotted by an agent, and was signed. The year after he graduated, he won his first Best Actor award. From there, his career had been a straight shot to the stars. Hearing me say that, Leo was silent for a few seconds. Then he mumbled, his voice low, “Yeah. I’m sorry.” “Back then… I didn’t know…” His voice trailed off, so quiet I couldn’t catch the rest. But I waved it off magnanimously. “Hey, it’s fine. It was senior year. Everyone was stressed out. I get it.” Leo smiled, a small, genuine smile, and murmured a soft, “Yeah.” Ding. The elevator reached the ground floor. “Anyway, it was really good to see you, old classmate,” I said, smiling as I prepared to say goodbye. “I’ll be your point person for the show, so I’ll be seeing you around. Looking forward to working with you.” “Likewise,” Leo nodded. Just as the doors were about to close, he turned his head. “Joanna. Next time, remember to bring an umbrella.” The doors slid shut. I stood there for a second, stunned. Then, a helpless smile spread across my face. Back in the office, I pulled out my phone, about to search for Leo Wilder in my contacts to see if I still had his number. That’s when I saw a new message on the eBay app, sent one minute ago. 【The camera is mine.】 【I didn’t want to sell it.】 【Can I please have it back?】 5 Just then, Talia came over to ask what I wanted for our afternoon coffee run. Seeing my exasperated expression, she leaned in. “What’s up?” “Nothing. Just dealing with a teenage scammer on eBay.” “Ugh, the worst,” Talia said sympathetically. “What’s the kid saying?” “He says I can name my price, as long as I give him the camera back.” “…” That sounded even more like a scam. Half an hour later, I was sipping my latte and typing with one hand, a smirk on my face. 【Ten thousand dollars. Not a penny less.】 The reply was almost instantaneous. 【Okay.】 【When can you ship it back?】 Seriously? Do kids these days have that much allowance? I decided to play it smart. My thumbs flew across the screen. 【I see we’re in the same city. Why don’t you just pick it up in person?】 The reply came in a split second. 【Perfect.】 Heh. All right, kid. Let’s see who you really are. We agreed to meet the next day, a Saturday. I chose a busy downtown mall as the meeting spot. As it happened, that Saturday was also my high school homeroom teacher’s wedding. Ms. Albright had taught my English class for three years. She was fresh out of college back then and felt more like a peer than a teacher. Our class had always been close, so a lot of former students showed up for her wedding. When I arrived, the table was already buzzing about yesterday’s trending topic. “Do you think Leo Wilder will show up today? Ms. Albright taught him freshman year, right?” “Get real. He’s a huge star now. Why would he bother with a bunch of old classmates?” “He was so quiet back in school. Who would’ve thought he’d end up being the most successful person from our class?” My high school roommate, Chloe, saw me first and looped her arm through mine with a grin. “Our star student has arrived!” I smiled and took my seat, then discreetly sent a text to Leo. During dinner, the conversation inevitably turned to what everyone was doing now. And, just as inevitably, it circled back to Leo Wilder. As our most famous alumnus, people spoke about him with a mix of awe and nostalgia. “Remember how poor his family was? He used to hop the fence every night to go to work.” “I heard his parents divorced when he was really young, and his grandma raised him. Now that he’s made it big, she must be living a good life.” “What? You didn’t know? Leo’s grandmother passed away our senior year.” At that, my head snapped up from my plate. “What did you say?” 6 Just then, my phone buzzed twice. It was a reply from Leo. Me: 【Leo, you’re not coming to Ms. Albright’s wedding?】 Leo: 【Something came up last minute. Can’t make it.】 The classmate who had just spoken looked at me, confused by my sudden outburst. He’d been in the same sophomore class as Leo and knew him better than most. “I’m not wrong. His grandmother died right at the beginning of senior year. He even took a few days off school.” “Joanna, what’s wrong?” Chloe asked, her voice filled with concern as she noticed my expression. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I just shook my head. Just then, Ms. Albright came over to our table to give a toast. “Joanna! It’s been so long.” For three years, I was her favorite student. Even when I got in trouble for that “early romance” sophomore year, she was the only one who defended me. After we clinked glasses, Ms. Albright sighed dramatically. “That Leo Wilder. He promised me he’d be here today. I told all my friends I’d get them autographs and pictures!” “Don’t worry, Ms. Albright,” I said casually. “I can get them for you.” I was thinking about the upcoming show, and how many opportunities I’d have to see him. But Ms. Albright just gave me a knowing, mischievous smile and leaned in to whisper, “So you two are still in touch.” She looked like a shipper who’d just seen her favorite couple become canon. “I knew there was something going on back then. But it was such a critical time for you both, and I was afraid of messing with your grades, so I never said anything. But a teacher always knows.” I sighed. Ms. Albright was the best, but she loved playing matchmaker. “Ms. Albright, Leo and I haven’t seen each other in years, either.” “And back then, we were just regular classmates. We weren’t that close.” She blinked, surprised. “But… he came to me and specifically asked which colleges you were applying to.”

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My sister adopted a merman. A frail, beautiful creature from the Blackwood Registry. And then she threw him at me like a stray she’d lost interest in. So I cared for him. I nurtured him, watched him grow from a boy into a man, his body becoming strong and powerful under my roof. But his eyes were always fixed on my sister, and in them, I saw only hatred for me, the woman he believed had torn them apart. He killed me in my sleep. A brutal, intimate betrayal before he set my entire world on fire. Then, I opened my eyes. And I was reborn. This time, I went straight to the bar. This time, I bought the twin fox Beastkin, the ones with eyes that promised sin and salvation all at once. Two tails, sleek and silver, were already tracing patterns against my skin before the ink was dry on the contract. “Sweet Ava,” one of them purred, his voice a low thrum against my ear. “If you can’t tell us apart, there will be a punishment.” 1 The air in the club was thick with smoke and secrets. I let my gaze drift over the Beastkin attendants—all muscle and curated charm—but my interest didn’t spark until my eyes landed on a booth tucked into the shadows. There they were. A pair of fox twins. They wore tailored server uniforms—crisp white shirts, black silk vests—that seemed more like high fashion than work attire. Fox ears, silver-white and alert, twitched above their dark hair. The top buttons of their shirts were undone, black bowties hanging loose, revealing the elegant lines of their necks. In the dim, hazy light, they were intoxicating. One was the epitome of gentle grace, every movement so fluid he looked like he’d stepped out of a classical painting. The other was all fragile beauty, his eyes wide and faintly red-rimmed, inspiring a desperate, primal urge to protect him. The manager, following my gaze, practically trembled. “Miss Sinclair,” he stammered, his voice hushed. “Anyone but them. They’re—” He never finished. A cool glance from the booth cut him off, and he snapped his mouth shut. The one with the gentle face, the graceful one, picked up a tray of drinks and approached my table. He bowed, a perfect, elegant arc of his body. “Miss,” he said, his voice as smooth as aged whiskey. “My brother and I are in… a difficult situation. Our father’s debts are substantial. Would you consider buying a bottle?” His twin stepped up beside him, his voice a shy whisper. “We’d be willing to do anything for you, ma’am…” I was drowning in their beauty. The question escaped my lips before I could stop it. “How much to buy you both?” 2 Every human, upon coming of age, is granted the right to register a Beastkin companion. It’s a rite of passage, a status symbol, a partnership. I am Ava Sinclair. The Sinclair heiress. I’d turned my back on the family empire to chase my own dream, carving out a name for myself as an actress. I hid my background, wanting to succeed on my own terms. But my face was my fortune, and coupled with a talent for the craft and a carefully curated public image, Hollywood had been good to me. Then my cousin, Audrey, returned from her studies abroad and, in a grand show of familial duty, volunteered to take over the Sinclair Corporation. To prove her maturity and compassion, she registered the weakest, most pitiable merman from the Blackwood Registry, Finn. But then came the performance: she was embarking on a charity mission to rural West Virginia, she’d cried, and it was simply no place to care for such a delicate creature. She begged me, with perfectly crafted tears, to look after him for her. In reality, she was disgusted by him. I, on the other hand, had longed for a Beastkin companion for years. But my father, a man who valued pedigree above all else, always dismissed them as beneath our station. He’d forbidden it. So when Audrey pleaded, I caved. I took Finn in. I never imagined his heart was made of sea-stone. I poured my affection into him. I gave him everything. But his gaze was always distant, fixed on a memory of Audrey. He grew to resent me, convinced I was his jailer. So he murdered me and burned my house to the ground. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that very day. The day Audrey “saved” Finn. This time, however, I was lounging in an exclusive, underground bar. My phone buzzed incessantly with messages from her. I ignored them. My attention was entirely captivated by the breathtaking fox twins. And a new, audacious idea was beginning to form. 3 My assistant, Chloe, had been pacing anxiously. The moment she heard my key in the lock, she pounced. “Ava, my God! If your father finds out you were in a place like that, he’ll have my hide. He’ll have your hide.” My father had always been strict with me. Other heiresses had cycled through a dozen Beastkin by the time they were my age, but I was expected to remain pristine, untouched. When Chloe saw the two fox Beastkin trailing behind me, she froze. “Who—what are—?” “I found them at the bar,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. “They looked pathetic. It was an impulse buy.” Chloe’s jaw dropped. The world had changed, and human-Beastkin relations were governed by strict protocols. The only legal way to acquire a companion was through an official, sanctioned Registry. The only exception was the mysterious Hale family. The Fox Kin. They ran the largest casinos in the country, their power absolute and untouchable. The only reason Chloe had even agreed to let me go to that bar was because it was Hale territory—a neutral ground where the Beastkin attendants were famously off-limits, their contracts strictly for serving drinks and providing conversation. On-site service, let alone a permanent sale, was unheard of. And yet, here I was, with two of the most stunning Fox Kin I had ever seen. I misinterpreted Chloe’s gaping shock, assuming she was just terrified of my father’s wrath. I patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I was discreet. No one saw me.” One of the fox’s tails, a magnificent brush of silver fur, swayed near my hand. I gave it a playful squeeze and found the texture addictive. “Besides,” I added, my voice light, “it’s just a bit of fun. It’s not like I’d ever choose them as my official companions.” Behind me, where I couldn’t see them, two pairs of identical eyes narrowed, and a dangerous current passed between them. 4 To celebrate my new acquisitions, I’d not only dropped a small fortune on the bar’s most expensive champagne but had also, in a fit of bravado, drunk far too much of it. My tolerance for alcohol was notoriously low. One moment I was lucid, the next, the world was tilting on its axis. A strange heat was coiling in my stomach. I ignored it, my voice a lazy murmur. “Alright, that’s enough for tonight. I’m going to bed.” Chloe nodded, moving to help me to my room, but a figure smoothly intercepted her. It was the gentler twin, the one who moved like poetry. Rhys. He gave Chloe a small, polite nod, his voice soft but carrying an authority that was impossible to refuse. “Miss Ava drank so much because of my brother and me. It’s only right that we take care of her.” The other twin, Liam, nodded eagerly, his pretty face a mask of concern. “You’ve had a long night too, Chloe. We can handle it from here.” Chloe looked into Liam’s wide, misty fox eyes and, to her own apparent surprise, found herself nodding. She turned and walked out of my penthouse like a woman in a trance. In my room, the world was a blur. I was lying on the cool silk of my bedsheets, my head spinning, sleep refusing to come. Moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the room in shades of silver and black. My phone on the nightstand lit up, the opening chords of a ringtone about to shatter the quiet. A long, elegant hand shot out and silenced it before the first note could sound. Another hand took the phone and simply turned it off. A tongue, impossibly warm and slightly rough, like a cat’s, traced a line across the back of my hand, sending a shiver through me. In the haze, I felt someone lift my foot. Fingers gently worked at the buckle of my red stiletto. Click. The shoe fell to the floor. A furry tail coiled around my calf. My hand instinctively reached out and grasped it. The tail paused for a fraction of a second, then pressed more insistently into my palm, the fur like silk. It was ticklish. As my consciousness finally began to fade, a voice whispered in my ear, a velvet trap. “Ava. Tell me… whose tail is this? Guess wrong, and you’ll have to be punished.” 5 I woke to a splitting headache. A glass of water was being held to my lips. It was Liam. His big, expressive eyes blinked at me, the corners of his mouth turned up in a sweet, shy smile. He was still wearing last night’s uniform, the black and white fabric now hopelessly rumpled. He looked utterly devoted. “Th-thank you,” I managed, my voice hoarse. His gaze was intense, unwavering, as he watched me drink. His fluffy tail gave a happy little twitch. My cheeks grew warm under his scrutiny, and I took another long sip of water to hide my blush. The bedroom door opened silently. Rhys entered, carrying a tray laden with a steaming, fragrant breakfast. He placed it on a small table near the bed. It was uncanny how they could share the same face, yet project such different auras. Where Liam was all soft vulnerability, Rhys carried himself with a scholarly elegance. His dark hair fell casually across his forehead, and he wore a pair of thin, silver-rimmed glasses. A single, dark blue gem glittered in his earlobe. But if you looked closely, you could see a razor-sharp intelligence in his eyes, a glint of steel beneath the gentle exterior. The night I bought them, I’d demanded their files from the bar manager. The report was simple: Ordinary. Clean. Pitiful. Two brothers orphaned by their father’s gambling addiction, sold to the bar to pay his debts. It was the perfect backstory. So perfect that I never once suspected it was a lie, the first move in a game I didn’t even know I was playing. Rhys knelt gracefully, his movements fluid and natural, and slipped a pair of silk slippers onto my feet. At the same time, Liam pulled out the chair at the breakfast table for me, his expression earnest. Suddenly, a commotion erupted from downstairs. A crash, followed by shouting. In perfect unison, both twins frowned. I walked out of my room and onto the second-floor landing, looking down into the grand foyer. A merman, his form not yet fully matured, was thrashing against the grip of my household staff, roaring. Ugly wounds on his torso were still weeping blood, a gruesome sight. Then, he must have caught my scent. The raging stopped. He looked up, his reddened eyes locking onto mine with a terrifying intensity, as if he wanted to devour me whole. But when he spoke, his voice was laced with a broken, wounded betrayal. “Ava Sinclair,” Finn snarled. “Why didn’t you come for me yesterday?” 6 In that instant, I knew. He’d come back, too. Finn was reborn. The phantom agony of a blade sliding between my ribs flared in my memory, hot and sharp. I clenched my fists, forcing down the wave of hatred. I turned away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. I gestured to my head of household, Arthur. “See to it that I never have to see an unknown Beastkin on my property again.” Arthur bowed. “At once, Miss Sinclair.” He was about to signal the security team, but something in my words—unknown Beastkin—seemed to snap Finn’s last thread of control. With a furious roar, he slammed his powerful tail against the marble floor. “You made me a promise!” he bellowed, his voice cracking with rage. “You promised you’d be with me forever!” His wild eyes caught sight of the two elegant foxes standing just behind me. His fury escalated. He lunged, not at me, but at a nearby pedestal, swiping a priceless Sèvres porcelain vase to the floor. It shattered, sending razor-sharp fragments flying. Several pieces embedded themselves in his tail, adding fresh wounds to the old ones. “Was it for them?” he spat, venom dripping from every word. “Did you leave me to rot at the Registry so you could buy these two filthy foxes?” Even in his weakened state, the primal strength of a merman was formidable. It took more than a dozen of my best security guards to finally subdue him. I didn’t spare him another glance. I turned and walked back into my room, shutting the door on the chaos. The sounds from the foyer gradually faded until there was only silence. I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillows. I couldn’t understand it. I just couldn’t. In my first life, I had given him everything, loved him so completely. How could he have been so cruel? How could he have killed me without a second thought? Liam started to move toward me, a comforting word on his lips, but Rhys put a hand on his arm, shaking his head slightly. So they just stood there, my two beautiful foxes, silent sentinels in my quiet grief. Two days later, there was another visitor. I was lounging in a silk robe when Arthur’s respectful voice came through the door. “Miss Sinclair, your cousin, Miss Audrey, is here.” 7 Audrey had officially registered Finn at the Blackwood Registry. But then, the unthinkable had happened. The little investment she’d made for her public image, the little sister she used as a dumping ground, had gone silent. Dozens of texts and calls had gone unanswered. To make matters worse, that ungrateful merman had somehow escaped his holding pen. Tracking him down would cost time, money, and effort—resources she couldn’t spare, not when she had her own life to live. And that was before considering his volatile temper and delicate constitution. This whole affair had become a PR nightmare waiting to happen. She needed her patsy. Left with no other choice, Audrey had reluctantly come to my door. What she wasn’t prepared for was the sight of me, her supposedly pure and obedient little cousin, draped languidly across the laps of two stunningly handsome fox twins. If she looked closely, she could see the faint, star-like scatter of red marks on the back of my hand and peeking above the collar of my robe. … I knew exactly why she was here. But I was far too comfortable, far too content in the arms of my new companions, to be bothered with her problems. There had been a time, in my past life, when things between Finn and me had started to thaw. A brief, hopeful period. Then Audrey had stopped by my villa, ostensibly to visit him. That very night, Finn was drugged. He went into a feverish, violent rut, and I, abiding by my father’s strict rules, refused to touch him. I spent the entire night and the following day by the side of the cold bathtub, replacing the cool water on his skin, talking him through the agony. Afterward, he accused me of drugging him myself out of jealousy, then playing the saint to mock him. It wasn’t until the night before he killed me that I found it. Tucked away in a forgotten corner of the guest room Audrey always used, I found the empty packet of the very same aphrodisiac. Thinking of her smiling, treacherous face made my stomach turn. I didn’t even have the energy to pretend anymore. My voice was flat, dripping with contempt. “Spit it out, Audrey. I don’t have all day.” 8 Audrey froze for a second, the crocodile tears she’d been summoning drying up before they could fall. She had never heard her sweet, pliable cousin speak to her with such open hostility. But she was a born actress. She recovered instantly. She bit her lip, her voice trembling with manufactured vulnerability. “Ava, darling… I rescued a merman from the Registry, a poor, traumatized soul. But with my charity mission in the mountains… taking him with me would be cruel. It could aggravate his injuries. I heard… I heard he might have accidentally ended up at your villa the other night…” After Arthur’s men had subdued Finn, I’d had him delivered directly to Audrey’s doorstep. A few cuts and bruises were nothing to a Beastkin. If he was so devoted to her, then fine. I would be the good Samaritan and let him shatter his own illusions against the reality of her cold indifference. “I’m a very busy woman, Audrey,” I said, leaning back into Rhys’s solid chest. “Why would I have time to look after someone else’s companion?” The coffee table was covered in magazines, my face gracing half of them. I was an A-list star, a brand unto myself. My net worth eclipsed anything Audrey could ever hope to achieve. “But besides you and Uncle, I have no other family,” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “I don’t know who else to turn to.” “Then take him with you,” I suggested, my tone deceptively sweet. “I’m sure your devoted merman would be absolutely thrilled.” I caught a glimpse of a pair of wide, innocent eyes peering from behind the doorway. Finn. I couldn’t resist twisting the knife. “Besides,” I purred, running a hand through Liam’s silky hair. “I already have two of my own. I can’t have them getting jealous, now can I?” I beckoned with my finger. Liam, who had been waiting in the wings, immediately scampered over. He knelt on the plush rug at my feet, rubbing his face against my hand like a contented cat. The fur of his silver-white ears was exquisitely soft. “Oh, and by the way,” I added. Audrey’s face flickered with hope, thinking I was about to relent. “Your companion broke my vase. You’ll be paying for it.” In the end, Audrey left with a face like thunder, her credit cards several million dollars lighter. As she walked out the door, Rhys’s gaze followed her. The look in his eyes was so cold, so utterly devoid of warmth, that a shiver of pure dread snaked down Audrey’s spine. 9 With Audrey and Finn out of my hair, the next two days were a blissful escape. It turned out that living with people whose worlds revolved entirely around you was incredibly good for the soul. The only downside was when they announced they had to leave for a while. “The casino manager contacted our family,” Rhys explained, his voice calm and mature as he adjusted his glasses. “We have to go back and deal with the final settlement of our father’s debts.” Unlike Liam, Rhys had a natural reserve. He was tall and slender, and his posture created an aura of elegant distance. He also rarely let his ears or tail show. Except at night. Two small suitcases were already packed and waiting by the door. All they needed was my permission. “If you need assistance, I can send Arthur to handle it for you,” I offered. Liam pressed closer, nuzzling against my side like an affectionate puppy. “Thank you, sweet Ava, but my brother and I can manage this.” “Alright, then. Be safe.” Liam’s ears drooped. He hesitated for a long moment before pressing a small, fluffy object into my palm. It was a keychain, fashioned into the shape of a miniature fox tail. “I made this from my own tail fur,” he whispered, his cheeks pink. “If you miss me, you can touch it.” I gave the tiny tail a playful squeeze. In front of me, Liam let out a soft whimper, his blush deepening. Rhys, standing behind him with his arms crossed, simply raised an eyebrow. Defeated, Liam sighed and reluctantly pulled a second, identical keychain from his pocket. This one carried Rhys’s signature scent, a clean, cool fragrance like sandalwood. 10 With Rhys and Liam gone, the penthouse felt unnervingly quiet. Lonely. I spent the entire day toying with the fox tail keychains. They were small but exquisitely made. That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Suddenly, a dark shape appeared at my window. A head of messy dark hair popped into view. It was Liam, looking at me with pleading, puppy-dog eyes. “Sweet Ava,” he whispered, pressing his face against the glass. “Can I please sleep with you tonight? Secretly?” It turned out that Rhys was the pillar of their small family, the one who handled all the serious business. Liam, left with nothing to do, was bored out of his mind. So he’d started a new routine: sneaking over to my place every night and slipping back home before dawn. We made a pact to keep it our little secret from Rhys. A few days later, sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the music room. I was leaning against the grand piano, my chin propped on my hand, listening to the fox boy play. The melody that flowed from his fingertips was beautiful and poignant, a love song just for me. When the final note faded, he rose from the bench, leaned in, and brushed his lips against mine. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. When we finally broke apart, we were both breathless, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked at me, his eyes full of a desperate, earnest hope. “Ava,” he breathed, asking the question that seemed to consume him. “You like me best, right? Even if… even if I only have one tail?” He was like a child, always so needy for validation, so jealous of his brother. I smiled, a slow, indulgent curve of my lips, and murmured the easy lie. “Of course.” 11 Out of the blue, I received an offer that sent shockwaves through the industry. The ultra-exclusive luxury brand owned by the Hale family—the mysterious Fox Kin—wanted me to be their new global ambassador. This was unheard of. The Hale family, legend said, was protected by an ancient spirit of their bloodline, which was the source of their incredible luck and power. The current patriarch was a bona fide genius who had cornered the market in nearly every major industry in the country. Their foray into luxury goods was recent, but they operated on a level so far above the rest that they’d never bothered with celebrity endorsements. This was an opportunity I couldn’t refuse. The campaign was being shot in Paris, which meant Liam and I wouldn’t be able to see each other for a few days. On his last night, he was impossibly clingy, a storm of hurt and resentment brewing in his expressive eyes. I treated it like a childish tantrum, soothing him with patient reassurances before boarding the plane the next morning. The shoot was flawless. The makeup artists and stylists worked their magic, amplifying my features until I was something otherworldly. I came alive in front of the camera, a creature born for the spotlight. The photographer couldn’t stop raving. When we wrapped, my team went to exchange pleasantries with the brand executives. The shoes they’d put me in were exquisite torture, but I didn’t want to complain on someone else’s set. I excused myself to the restroom for a moment of relief. I kicked off the heels, leaving them in a corner, and padded barefoot across the cool marble floor. The sound of running water filled the opulent space. Suddenly, a pair of hands circled my waist from behind. My body was pulled back against a hard chest, and I was lifted effortlessly onto the marble countertop. For a terrifying second, my mind flashed with tabloid headlines of robberies and murders. A cold sweat broke out on my back. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened my mouth to scream. Then a familiar, cool voice cut through my panic. “Miss Sinclair,” he said. “It’s me.” 12 “Rhys?” He hummed in affirmation. I stared at him, bewildered. “What are you doing here?” He shifted me on the counter so I was facing him. Then, like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, he produced a pair of stunning red stilettos. After gently wiping the dust from the soles of my feet, he knelt and buckled them on. They fit like they were made for me. Impossibly comfortable. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the brand’s original shoes—the spring season’s limited-edition, sold-out-everywhere shoes—directly into the trash can. My jaw dropped. “Those were the spring limited edition!” Even I would have felt a pang of regret throwing away something so expensive, and Rhys was supposed to have a gambling-addicted father to worry about. “But they were causing you discomfort,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. He rose to his full height and stepped closer, cupping my face in his left hand. His thumb traced the outline of my lips. And then he kissed me. It was nothing like Liam’s hesitant, gentle kisses. This was a kiss of possession, of claiming. As he kissed me, a cascade of silver fur erupted behind him. One tail, then two, then three… eight. Eight magnificent, silver-white tails fanned out, each moving with a life of its own. They were like sentient appendages of silk and steel. Two coiled around my wrists, pinning them to the counter. Two more wrapped around my ankles. Others slid beneath the hem of my dress, tracing patterns on my skin. Two of the most mischievous ones burrowed into my lap, demanding attention. My legs, pressed against his, felt a strange, hard pressure against my calf that made me flinch. I kicked my feet restlessly, my voice a trembling mess. “Rhys—wait, something’s not—it’s uncomfortable—” He silenced me by moving his lips to my neck, his touch sending a jolt of lightning through my system. I went rigid, my mind short-circuiting. The fox boy, sensing my reaction, seemed pleased. His tails moved with even more confidence. Then he lifted his head, his dark eyes boring into mine, and he asked the question. “Me or Liam,” he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “Who will you choose, Ava?”

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Before dinner, my husband suddenly asked, “What if we stop loving each other? Whether it’s because of someone else, or just… we fall out of love. What happens to us?” I hesitated for a long time. “Maybe divorce is the best answer. You could find someone else.” The truth was, I already knew. I knew about his unusual feelings for that other girl. And I’d already heard him tell her: “Don’t cry. We’ll have a future.” 1 He put his fork down. His face went hard. After a long moment, he forced a laugh. “Tess, I was just kidding.” It wasn’t a joke. I knew. I had known his love. Which is how I knew, with certainty, that what he felt for that girl was real. Earlier today, at the hospital. The doctor, who had been gruff and impatient, read my report and his whole demeanor changed. He lowered his voice. “Don’t be scared. It’s not late-stage. With aggressive treatment, this is manageable.” I was walking out with the diagnosis when I saw them. Liam’s arm was injured. The girl was looking at him, her eyes red with pain. “Why did I have to meet you so late? I can’t even take care of you properly.” Liam looked flustered. Blood was seeping through the new bandage on his arm. He said, “Don’t cry. I’ll give you a future.” The words hung in the air. He froze, as if he regretted saying them. But she believed him. Her nose was red. She looked up at him. “Really?” Liam just frowned. He didn’t speak. I didn’t stay to watch the rest. I know Liam. I know his boundaries. As long as he was married to me, his body wouldn’t cross the line. But his heart. I couldn’t control his heart. 2 I wanted to know. What kind of girl was she? What made her better than me in his eyes? I found her profile through his phone. I had to see for myself. I had to see the woman who had so easily destroyed eight years of my life. We survived long-distance. We survived the pandemic. We survived being broke. But we were defeated by a “better girl.” I found her on the university campus. She was exactly what you’d expect. Young, vibrant. An old woman was struggling to collect cans, her back bent. The plastic bag ripped, and empty bottles scattered across the pavement. The girl, in a cream-colored coat, ran over and helped her pick up every single one. She helped the woman carry the heavy bag all the way to the campus recycling center. I followed, like a stalker. Suddenly, footsteps rushed up behind me. A figure blocked my view. I looked up. Liam. His arms were spread, shielding the girl from me, his lips trembling. “Tess, it’s not her fault…” Not her fault. Then whose fault was it? Mine? The girl finally noticed me. She looked over, startled. Our eyes met. She quickly looked away. 3 In a coffee shop. Liam sat across from me, his eyes full of pain. He said, “Tess, I…” He couldn’t continue. I wanted to know, too. Now that I’d found out, what would he choose? Would he end it with the “better girl”? Or would he end it with me? He opened his mouth, and finally, the words came out, strained. “Tess, I… I don’t think I love you anymore.” I didn’t say anything. But my body betrayed me. My eyes burned. He panicked. “Don’t cry…” He just stared at me for a long time before pushing the napkin holder across the table. He let out a breath, like a man relieved of a heavy weight. “Tess, we got together when we were eighteen. It’s been eight years… “I know I’m an asshole. I’m scum. “But Tess… after this long, my love for you… it’s turned into something else. It’s family. “Neither of us can fight that.” I asked him, “And her?” Liam was silent. “Maybe that will change, too. “But… I don’t want to lie to you right now…” He looked up, his voice bitter. “I haven’t done anything… physical. If you want, we can stay married. “But… all I have left to give you is responsibility. And the rest of my time.” How could I describe that feeling? Sadness? Despair? I was a prisoner, drowning. I knew I was going to die, but I had to keep my eyes open and just… wait. We sat in silence. Finally, I spoke. “Let’s schedule a time. We’ll file for divorce.” 4 It was evening when I left the cafe. The sunset was a violent, blinding red. Across the street, someone was hovering. Liam saw her instantly and sprinted over. The girl flinched, her face pale. Liam’s voice was sharp. “Nina, what are you doing here? “I told you to go back to your dorm. Have you been waiting this whole time?” Nina glanced at me, her eyes full of apology. She looked down at her shoes. “I… I was worried about you…” His expression melted. “Don’t overthink it.” Suddenly… An indescribable bitterness flooded my chest. I really thought there was nothing left that could possibly hurt me. 5 “Don’t overthink it.” That’s what he said to me at the bus station, right after graduation. I was sobbing, terrified of the separation. Everyone said graduation equals a breakup. Who could guarantee a long-distance relationship? He turned and hugged me tight. “Tess, don’t overthink it. As soon as I’m settled, I’ll come see you.” The same station. He took a bus north. I took one south. I was in a second-tier city. My first birthday alone, he promised he’d be there. He wasn’t. At 12:37 AM. A knock on my apartment door. He burst in, breathless, and grabbed me. “I tried so hard to make it,” he panted, “but I’m still late.” I found out later he’d spent his last dollar on the bus ticket. He couldn’t afford a cab from the station. He walked. My apartment was eight miles from the bus station. I thought, this is my life. It has disappointments, but the happy endings will come, even if they’re late. I was wrong.

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For ten thousand yuan, I bought the book’s biggest, gloomiest villain and brought her home. The only problem? She’s now a cripple, both of her legs completely useless. She was supposed to die. Instead, I took her home and forced her to become my housewife. The dark, obsessive woman I remembered picked up a kitchen knife and sneered, “Yellow croaker. Guess what I’m going to do to you today? Steamed or braised? You pick.” Later, when the story’s main hero and heroine showed up at our door, she was in the middle of angrily washing a fat stray cat I’d just brought home. “All you do is drag home these… things!” she snapped, covered in suds. “And who ends up taking care of them? Me!” She glared at the newcomers. “Why are you here? Since you’re here, make yourselves useful. Go fold my wife’s laundry.” 1. The shouting started just as my shift was ending. It’s a common sound in a hospital, so common I already had the de-escalation script running in my head as I walked into the room. I didn’t even get to speak before a wheelchair slammed backward into my legs, nearly sending me sprawling. A man’s voice, sharp and bitter, sliced through the air. “You can keep the useless cripple! I’m not paying another cent for her! You want your money? Take her to the curb and let her die, for all I care!” The woman in the wheelchair was facing away from him, her head bowed. She didn’t flinch. If it weren’t for the shallow rise and fall of her chest, I would have thought she was already dead. My charge nurse, Helen, was trying to reason with the man, but he just glared at her. He shoved past us, stopped in front of the woman, and spat on the floor at her feet. “Pathetic,” he snarled. “If I were you, I’d have killed myself by now.” He stormed out. The woman remained perfectly still, a statue of misery. I grabbed a tissue from the dispenser, knelt, and wiped the spittle from the floor before it could touch her. It was only then, as I looked up, that I saw her face. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her skin was translucent, her features sharp and perfect. But her entire face was shrouded in a shadow, a palpable aura of gloom that was, in its own way, breathtaking. I stared, completely mesmerized, until I felt my face flush. I stood up and turned to Helen. “What’s the story?” Helen sighed. “That was her uncle. Car accident a week ago, severed her spinal cord. She’s a paraplegic. He’s her only family. He’s refusing to pay the bill or arrange for post-op care. She owes just under ten thousand. We… we can’t legally discharge her to ‘homeless.’” I looked at the woman. I thought about the story. I pulled out my phone and checked my savings account. Then I walked out to the hallway where the uncle was still arguing with security. “You don’t want her, right?” I said. He looked at me, disgusted. “What’s it to you?” “I’ll take her.” Helen grabbed my arm. “Zoe, don’t. You can’t just…” “It’s fine,” I said, my voice betraying a confidence I didn’t feel. “I’ve got the money.” “Zoe, you’re a physical therapist, not a charity,” she whispered. “You’re 25. You can’t just adopt every tragic case.” The woman in the wheelchair actually stirred at that. “I know, Helen,” I said, turning back to the uncle. “I’ve got this one.” I waved my phone at him. “Ten grand. I’ll pay her bill. But you sign the discharge papers. You sign away any right to her. You’re done.” He looked at me like I was insane. Then he looked back at the woman. “Fine! You want the burden? She’s all yours! Just don’t come crying to me when she ruins your life!” He signed the forms so fast his pen tore the paper. 2. I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of destiny as I pushed her chair. I’d known, ever since I was a child, that this world wasn’t quite real. I had memories of another life, another world where this one was just a story. A very dramatic, very trashy romance novel. And I, Zoe, was a background character. Seraphina—the woman in the chair—was the main villain. The tragic, ruthless ice queen. And I had just bought the story’s final boss for ten thousand dollars. When we got to my crappy one-bedroom rental, she still hadn’t spoken. The tiny apartment was filled with my nervous chatter. “So, this is it! Home sweet home. What’s your name? I mean, I know it’s Seraphina from the chart, but… are you hungry? I can make something.” She said nothing. She just stared at her own useless legs. I finally gave up. I wheeled her to the tiny kitchen table, knelt in front of her, and physically tilted her chin up. Her eyes, gray and fogged-over, met mine. “I said,” I enunciated, “are you hungry?” The physical contact seemed to shock her. Her pupils dilated. After a long, tense silence, she finally spoke. Her voice was a dry, rusty croak. “Seraphina. Twenty-seven.” It took me a second to realize she was answering my earlier questions. She still hadn’t answered the one about food. “Okay, Seraphina. If you won’t choose, I’m making what I want. I’m Zoe, by the way. I’m 25. And I’m making egg-fried rice.” I made a huge pan of it and split it between two bowls. I put one in front of her. She didn’t move. She just turned her head away. I held my ground, holding the bowl. “I’m not putting it down until you take it.” My hand started to shake from the weight. Finally, she snatched the bowl and slammed it on the table. But she didn’t eat. I lost my patience. “Who are you fighting with? Me? Yourself? Fine. You don’t eat, I don’t eat. We can starve to death together. I’m too tired to care.” She shot me a look—a quick, sharp glance of pure disbelief. I meant it. I slumped onto the couch, my body aching from a double shift, and watched her. We sat in silence. Hours passed. The sun went down. My stomach was churning. Just as I was about to pass out from hunger and exhaustion, the statue moved. She licked her chapped lips. “Can I… have some water?” I staggered to my feet. “If you drink, you eat. Got it?” She gave the faintest, most miserable nod. I got her water, with a straw. She drank it all. Then, slowly, she picked up the spoon and began to eat the cold, greasy rice. She ate a few bites, then watched me. When she saw I wasn’t eating, she stopped. She wasn’t a villain. She was a stray cat, terrified the food was a trap. I sighed, snatched her bowl, scraped it back into the pan, threw in some leftover chicken, and microwaved the whole thing. “Here,” I said, handing it back. “Now we both eat. Happy?” She took the bowl. Then, with her spoon, she carefully scooped half the chicken from her bowl into mine. When I looked up, she was already staring back at her lap, pretending it never happened. 3. That night, I moved to get her into bed. “Okay, arms up,” I said, moving to lift her shirt. “You know the drill, I do this all day.” She reacted like I’d tasered her. She gripped the arms of the chair, her face burning. “Get out! I can do it myself!” I stood back, arms crossed. “Okay.” Her face got redder. “I said, get out!” Her eyes were wet. I sighed. “Fine. Yell if you need me.” I closed the door. I heard her struggling, the scrape of the chair, the rustle of clothes. Then… a heavy, sickening thud. Before I could grab the doorknob, she screamed, her voice cracking, “Don’t come in! I’m fine!” I waited, my hand on the door, for ten agonizing minutes. Finally, a small voice. “Okay.” I opened the door. Her clothes were scattered everywhere. The wheelchair was on its side. Seraphina was on the bed, but she was tangled in the sheets, sweating and trembling, her back bare. I didn’t say a word. I just fixed the chair, picked up her clothes, and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. “What do you want for breakfast?” She didn’t answer. I understood. It takes time to accept this. To accept help. But I also knew that life isn’t a novel. She couldn’t afford to be a tragic heroine. I’d give her three days. Then the real work would start. I slept on the floor. The next morning, I woke up with my spare blanket draped over me. I didn’t give her a choice. I hauled her out of bed. She was lighter than I expected, all bone and no muscle. I carried her into the bathroom and set her on the toilet. “Can you do this yourself, or do I help?” She stared at the toilet, her face crimson, veins popping in her neck. I didn’t look away. “Seraphina. The hospital is gone. This is home. I’m a PT. I am not shy. Can you do this, or do I help?” Finally, in a voice so small it was barely air, she whispered, “I… I can’t. You help.” She closed her eyes in humiliation as I did. But she didn’t fight me. 4. We found a rhythm. But I was worried. I kept finding her with a steak knife from the kitchen, just… holding it. Testing the edge against her palm. The fourth time I found a blade hidden under her mattress, I took it and dropped it into the kitchen trash. She exploded. “Don’t I even have the right to die?!” she shrieked, a raw, painful sound. “No,” I said, my voice hard. “You don’t. I paid ten thousand dollars for your life. It’s my investment. You don’t get to throw it away.” “You… you…!” She was so angry she couldn’t speak. “What?” I said, crossing my arms. “What are you going to do? Kill yourself? That’s your big move? You know what that is? It’s easy. It’s what they want. You’re giving up.” “I have no one!” she finally choked out. “Am I no one? I saved your life, didn’t I?” She was silent, tears streaming down her face. “Why? Why did you save me?” I sat on the floor, leaning my head against her useless knee. “I’m an orphan,” I said quietly. “Car crash. Whole family. Gone. I was 16. Bounced around foster care. When I was 18, I got pneumonia. I was in my dorm, broke, and I couldn’t afford the co-pay for antibiotics. I remember lying there, thinking, ‘This is it. I’m going to die over $40.’ “I promised myself, if I made it… I’d never let anyone else feel that. That specific, cheap kind of despair.” I looked up at her. “So… just… live, okay? For me. Just live.” She didn’t say anything. She just gripped the fabric of my scrubs. After that, she stopped hoarding knives.

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“She’s been crippled for four years, and I’ve waited on her for four years. At some point, the debt is paid, right?” “The thought of her legs… that dead flesh… it makes me sick. Why couldn’t it have been me?” I recoiled, shrinking behind a decorative pillar as the words sliced through the cool night air. A calm, otherworldly voice echoed in my mind. The four-year contract is complete. Does the host wish to renew? My own voice, a silent scream in my head, was immediate. System, I want my legs back. Understood. Initiating contract termination. 1 It was my birthday. I’d been sitting alone with the small, perfect cake for what felt like an eternity. Leo had texted that he was almost there, but the minutes stretched into an hour, and his shadow never darkened the door. Finally, I gave up. With a weary sigh, I maneuvered my wheelchair out of the apartment and down the service elevator. I was just pulling out my phone to call him when I saw him standing near the building’s entrance. A surge of relief washed over me. I was about to call his name, a happy, forgiving sound, but I paused. He wasn’t alone. He was deep in conversation with a few of his friends. Must be work, I thought, a familiar pang of disappointment settling in my chest. That’s why he’s late. I wheeled myself closer, staying in the shadows of the manicured hedges, and their words began to drift towards me. They weren’t talking about work. They were talking about me. “Leo, man, I don’t think Claire can wait much longer,” one of them said. Claire? Who was Claire? “I’m not going to make her wait much longer.” The men standing with Leo were his two closest friends, his self-proclaimed brothers, Mark and Evan. Mark clapped him on the shoulder, his voice booming. “You’ve finally made up your mind? It’s about damn time!” When Leo nodded, a slow, deliberate motion, a grin split Mark’s face. “Seriously, man, I thought you were never going to get rid of Audrey. These past few years, you’ve been climbing the ladder, building an empire… and she’s still just a cripple. The gap between you two is bigger than the Grand Canyon.” I flinched at the word, but I wasn’t surprised. I knew his friends had never liked me, had always seen me as a weight around his ankles. Still, I clung to the belief that their crude opinions couldn’t possibly unravel the bond Leo and I shared. I was wrong. So terribly wrong. “Four years,” Leo said, and the sound of his voice was like a stone dropping into a deep, cold well. He let out a long breath, a sound of profound release. “She’s been crippled for four years, and I’ve waited on her for four years. At some point, the debt is paid, right?” A silent explosion detonated in my skull. I stared at his silhouette, unable to process, unable to believe. “I’m just glad you see it clearly, man,” Mark continued. “I swear, if it was me, she would have driven me insane by now.” “You have no idea,” Leo muttered, shaking his head. “A disabled person… there’s a smell. It’s stale, medicinal. We have that chair professionally cleaned every week, but the scent never really leaves. It’s in the apartment, on the sheets… I can’t stand it anymore.” Even Evan, who was usually quiet and reserved, let out a dry chuckle. “You’ve had it rough, Leo. The fact that you still had to sleep in the same bed with her… makes me want to puke just thinking about it.” The slight curve of Leo’s lips, visible even in the dim light, was a dagger in my heart. “Don’t even get me started,” he said, his voice laced with a bitterness I’d never heard before. “I wish it had been me who was paralyzed that day. I don’t get why she had to save me. If she hadn’t thrown herself at me, maybe we both would have walked away fine. Or maybe this was her plan all along, right? A way to make me owe her forever.” He was right, and he was wrong. Four years ago, Leo was crossing the street, his head buried in his phone. An out-of-control delivery truck was barreling toward him. In a split second of pure instinct, I screamed his name and launched myself at him. But I was a fraction of a second too late. The impact sent us flying. When I came to, Leo was a ruin of blood and twisted limbs, his legs crushed into something unrecognizable. He was such a proud man, an alpha in every sense of the word. His business was just taking off, his empire just beginning to rise. He needed those legs. I remember the moment with perfect, chilling clarity. System, I pleaded, my own body broken and bleeding on the asphalt. Give him my legs. Take mine and give them to him. Host, this exchange is irreversible. He’ll go insane if he wakes up like this. He needs them more than I do. All this time, Leo believed the truck had destroyed my legs. He never knew the truth. They were a gift. A sacrifice I made willingly. I pressed myself deeper into the shadows, my heart hammering against my ribs. Leo’s voice cut through the air again. “Four years. Four. Fucking. Years. Every single day has been torture. Now, just looking at her face makes my stomach turn.” “We should take you out, man,” Mark offered. “Blow off some steam. Let’s hit Vertex.” Leo immediately shook his head. “Can’t. It’s Audrey’s birthday. After tonight… after this one last birthday, we can finally be done. It’s a clean break, you know?” The rest of their conversation blurred into a dull roar in my ears. I don’t remember wheeling myself back to the elevator, don’t remember getting back inside the apartment. When Leo finally came in, he was a whirlwind of apologies and excuses. As we sat at the small table with the birthday cake between us, his phone was a constant presence, his eyes flicking down to the screen every few seconds. He’d always told me it was work, and I’d always believed him. Now, the lie was laughably transparent. “Who’s Claire?” I asked, my voice flat. His head snapped up. His eyes, for a fleeting moment, held a flicker of something unreadable—panic, maybe guilt. It was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a familiar mask of annoyance. “What are you talking about?” “I’m just asking. Is it a secret?” He quickly recalibrated, forcing a warm, patient smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Honey, you’re misunderstanding. She’s just a business partner. Speaking of which, something’s come up. I… I have to step out for a bit.” “But it’s my birthday.” My voice was barely a whisper. I just wanted to finish this one last meal with him, to preserve the illusion for a few more minutes. A wave of irritation washed over his features, barely concealed. “You already blew out the candles, didn’t you? Be a good girl, Audrey. I’ll be back before you know it.” He smiled, reached out to pat my head, and then snatched his hand back as if he’d touched something hot. He turned and walked out without another word. I wheeled myself to the window and watched him step onto the sidewalk. I saw him take out a handkerchief and furiously wipe the hand that had just touched my hair. Then he bent over, retching into the bushes. I looked at my own useless legs, my expression calm, my heart a frozen block of ice. System, can I get them back now? Host, your current accumulated points are insufficient. A random mission has been generated. Please proceed to Vertex Lounge. I didn’t hesitate. I changed my clothes and left. But when I arrived at the entrance to the sleek, thrumming nightclub, my courage failed me. The bouncer eyed my wheelchair with a mixture of pity and disdain. I felt a desperate urge to flee. The System’s voice, impersonal and insistent, prodded me forward. I finally pushed through the doors. The chaotic energy of the club was a sensory assault. I tried to find a quiet corner, but someone stumbled backward, crashing into my chair. “What the hell? A cripple?” a man slurred, scowling down at me. “They let anyone in here now? Get the hell out of the way!” “Yeah, what’s a gimp doing in a club? Move it!” his friend chimed in. I stammered apologies, my face burning with shame. I tried to turn and leave, to find another way out, but a strong hand clamped down on the handle of my wheelchair, stopping me cold. It was Leo. “What are you doing here?” His voice wasn’t a question. It was an interrogation. “It was so quiet at home,” I said, my voice small. “I just wanted to go somewhere.” Mark sauntered over, a drink in his hand, a superior smirk on his face. “Audrey, come on. You can’t just ‘go somewhere’ like this. This isn’t a place for… someone like you. Can’t you give Leo a break, just for one night?” “I used to come here all the time,” I said, my voice gaining a bit of strength. “Before the accident. I just wanted to see it again.” “That was before,” Mark shot back, his voice dripping with condescension. “Now you’re a useless burden. You’re just getting in everyone’s way. Look around, look at how people are staring at you.” Evan wrinkled his nose. “What’s that smell?” Mark leaned in theatrically, sniffing the air around me. He recoiled with a look of disgust. “Jesus, Audrey, is that you? The booze in here is strong, but it’s not enough to cover up that… stink.” Through the haze of my humiliation, I thought I heard Leo chuckle. I lifted my head, and my eyes met his across the small space separating us. His face was a mask of cold amusement. “Leo,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You’re just going to stand there and let them say these things to me?” He cleared his throat. “Did they say anything that was untrue? Audrey, don’t make a scene. Just go home. I’ll have my driver take you.” The System reminded me that I had to remain for two hours. A strange, reckless smile touched my lips. “No,” I said, my voice clear and firm. “I’m not going home. And I won’t bother you.” Mark leaned in and whispered something in Leo’s ear. “Claire’s on her way.” Leo’s jaw tightened. He glared at me, his patience gone. “I’m asking you one last time. Are you going home?” “No.” A cruel, chilling smile spread across his face. “You want to play? Fine. Let’s play.” He gave a sharp, almost imperceptible nod. A moment later, his friends swarmed me, laughing and jeering. They grabbed the frame of my wheelchair. And then they lifted me into the air. Panic seized me. I gripped the armrests, my knuckles white, a cold sweat breaking out across my entire body. My clothes clung to my damp skin. They hoisted me up like a trophy, rocking the chair back and forth as they whooped and hollered. Across the room, Leo lounged on a leather banquette, one leg crossed over the other, sipping his drink as he watched me. My eyes found the DJ booth, the pulsating lights, the hypnotic beat. The DJ, a young man with kind eyes, caught my gaze and gave me a small, encouraging wave. Something inside me snapped. The fear receded, replaced by a wild, defiant energy. I let go of the armrests, raised my hands into the air, and started cheering along with the music, a genuine smile on my face. I could faintly hear Mark’s voice below. “Is she gonna puke? Shake her harder!” But from his vantage point, only Leo could see the truth. He could see that in this moment of ultimate humiliation, I had found a bizarre, fleeting moment of joy. Of freedom. With a crash, he slammed his glass down on the table, his face a thundercloud of fury. The next thing I knew, I was falling. They dropped me. The impact was brutal, knocking the air from my lungs and sending me tumbling out of the chair and onto the filthy floor. Leo walked over, his face a perfect picture of feigned concern. “Guys, what the hell? You have to be more careful. You dropped your sister-in-law.” He looked down at me, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face. “Audrey, you okay?” He offered me his hand. I had no other choice. I just needed him to lift me back into my seat. I reached for his hand. At the last possible second, he pulled it away. He staggered back, covering his nose and mouth. “Oh, God.” His friends followed suit, backing away from me as if I were radioactive. Leo threw his head back and roared with laughter. The music in the club seemed to die at that exact moment, plunging the room into a stunned silence. “Audrey!” he boomed, his voice echoing in the sudden quiet. “Did you just… lose control? Again?! My God, we’re in public!” Every eye in the room turned to me. I could feel their stares like physical blows, searing my skin. Mark howled with laughter, a sound so piercing it made my teeth ache. “Wow, Audrey! You really can’t hold it, can you? I mean, at home is one thing, but out here? With all these people? Ugh!” Leo was the one to deliver the final, killing blow, his voice dripping with righteous indignation. “I told you to go home, Audrey. Did you have to do this? Did you have to embarrass us both? You’ve completely ruined my reputation!”

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