Category: English

They crucified me on the Willow Creek community forum. I was the heartless landlady, the one with the outrageously overpriced apartments. What they failed to mention was that my building was all-inclusive. Utilities, gigabit internet, central air and heat—all of it. In the summer, you could run the AC at full blast 24/7. In the winter, it was warm enough to walk around in a t-shirt. The entire building’s group chat was buzzing about me. Even my cousin, Mark, who helps me manage the property, couldn’t take the heat. “Liv, maybe just drop the rent a little? It’d save us a lot of headaches.” I didn’t argue. I just opened the tenants’ group chat and posted a new announcement. [To address the recent concerns regarding rental prices, we will be implementing a rate adjustment.] [Effective next month, rent for all units will be reduced by $400 to align with the market rate. Concurrently, the all-inclusive utilities policy will be discontinued. Each unit will be responsible for its own utility bills.] The moment I hit send, the group chat exploded. 1 “Liv, what the hell did you just post?!” Mark’s frantic call came through immediately, his voice an octave higher than usual. “I told you to lower the rent, not cut off their life support! Do you have any idea the kind of hell they’re going to raise now?” I calmly scrolled through the 99+ notifications lighting up the tenants’ chat, a flood of jubilant messages. “Mark,” I said, my voice steady. “Just watch.” In the group chat, a user named Jenna was being hailed as a hero. She was the ringleader of this little rebellion. Jenna, a recent college grad, was the one who wrote the tear-jerking forum post painting me as a greedy monster. She was the one who started this “Tenant Justice League” group chat, strategizing daily on how to take down the “old-school landlady.” And now, she was savoring her victory. Jenna: [Sisters! Do you see this?! VICTORY! When we stand together, even the capitalists have to bow down!] A cascade of cheers followed. [Jenna, you’re a legend! Gen Z is shaking up the workplace, and you’re shaking up the landlords!] [LOL, an extra $400 a month! Think of all the new clothes I can buy!] [I knew it! She was just bluffing. We called her on it, and she folded!] [@Jenna We’re taking you out to dinner tonight! You’re our champion!] Jenna responded with a GIF of a queen waving, the digital embodiment of smugness. Jenna: [It was nothing! I just can’t stand to see people get taken advantage of. We have to fight for what’s rightfully ours!] A cold smile touched my lips as I read the messages. On the other end of the line, Mark was still panicking. “What are you thinking? You give in like this, and they’ll be walking all over you from now on!” “Mark,” I said again. “Just watch.” I hung up. Just then, my doorbell rang. I opened it to find Jenna flanked by two other girls, all of them beaming. She tilted her chin up at me. “Olivia, look, this wasn’t personal.” “We just wanted you to understand that times have changed. You have to be fair in business, listen to the people. See? If you’d just done this earlier, we could have avoided all this drama.” I leaned against the doorframe, my face a blank mask, and watched her performance. “So, you’re satisfied?” I asked. Jenna took my question as a sign of surrender, her smirk widening. “For now. I hope you’ll continue to be this… reasonable.” “Right.” I nodded, then signed my name on the addendum to the new lease agreement. The terms were simple: effective next month, the rent would be reduced by $400. “Here,” I said, handing her a thick stack of the documents. “One for everyone. I’ll need them back by tomorrow.” Jenna accepted the stack like a general receiving the enemy’s sword, then turned and strutted away, her victory complete. I watched her go, a small, knowing smile on my face, and closed the door. 2 The euphoria of their win spread through the building like a contagion. Tenants celebrated in the hallways, their faces glowing with the thrill of getting one over on me. They even threw a small victory party in the courtyard—beer, barbecue, the works. It was quite a scene. Jenna was at the center of it all, holding court like a queen. She raised her plastic cup of beer, her voice ringing out across the lawn. “This is just the first step! The fact that she lowered the rent proves she knew she was screwing us! Next, we make her replace all the crappy old appliances with brand-new ones!” The crowd roared with approval. Mike from 302, the same guy whose rent I’d waived for three months when he lost his job, was the loudest of all. He held up a kebab, shouting, “Jenna’s right! We can’t let that old hag get away with it!” I stood on my balcony, silently observing the absurd comedy unfolding below. The next day, everyone returned their signed addendums. Each of them wore a poorly concealed smirk, their eyes a mixture of pity and contempt. I collected the papers. “Since we’re all in agreement,” I said, “the new terms will take effect on the first of next month.” Jenna crossed her arms, her tone a challenge. “You’re not going to regret this, are you, Olivia?” “Don’t worry,” I said, my smile cryptic. “I never regret my decisions.” And they, in turn, wasted no time showing me the true meaning of the phrase, “give them an inch, and they’ll take a mile.” The trash in the hallways started piling up. Takeout containers and beer bottles were left by their doors, sometimes blocking the walkway entirely. The cleaning lady complained to me several times, saying they wouldn’t listen to a word she said. Late-night parties and gaming sessions became the norm. The bass thumped through the floors, rattling my walls and my sanity. A few times, I went down to ask them to keep it down. They’d offer a giggling, insincere apology, and the moment their door was closed, the music would get even louder, punctuated by mocking laughter. A couple of days later, it got worse. The private parking spots assigned to my building were suddenly filled with unfamiliar cars. Several were even blocking the fire lane. I called property management. They were just as frustrated. “Olivia, it’s your tenants. They’re selling access to their parking spots.” “They posted on the community forum that since their spots are often empty, they’re ‘sharing’ them with people who need them. For ten or twenty bucks a pop.” “We tried to talk to them, but they claim it’s their right. They even said you, the landlord, approved it.” I hung up, a laugh bubbling up that was pure rage. I own this building. The deed is in my name, which means the parking lot is mine. I provided the spots and the key cards for their convenience, free of charge. And now, they were subletting my property and pocketing the cash. I stormed downstairs just in time to see Mike waving a sedan into a spot, a crisp twenty-dollar bill in his hand. He saw me and didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. Instead, he puffed out his chest. “Hey, Olivia. These spots are just sitting here empty. I’m just helping you monetize your assets. A little management fee, you know? It’s a win-win.” “My parking spots,” I said, my voice ice-cold. “When did they become yours?” “Oh, come on, don’t be so stingy,” Jenna chimed in, strolling over. “You already gave in on the rent, don’t get hung up on a little perk like parking. We put in the work to get this community’s rules straightened out. We deserve a little something for our efforts, don’t you think? Call it a consulting fee.” They had completely reframed my retreat as their rightful conquest. I looked at their shameless, entitled faces and didn’t say another word. I just took out my phone and dialed the number for the local towing company. “Hello, I’m at the Willow Creek Residences, Building 3. There are over a dozen illegally parked vehicles here. I need them all towed immediately.” 3 The tow trucks were impressively efficient. Within thirty minutes, two massive flatbeds were maneuvering through the lot. Watching his customers—and his cash flow—being hauled away one by one, Mike flew into a rage and tried to block my path. “What are you doing?! You’re killing my business!” Jenna, followed by a small posse of tenants, surrounded me, their faces contorted with righteous indignation. “Olivia, you’ve gone too far! What, you lost on the rent so you’re taking it out on our parking? We were just fighting for what’s fair! This kind of petty revenge is just pathetic!” Their twisted logic was so astounding it was almost funny. “My parking spots, which you were using to make money, are now being cleared of unauthorized vehicles. And somehow, I’m the one in the wrong?” “What do you mean, your spots? We live here, so we have the right to use them!” “Yeah! If you’re going to take away our income, you have to compensate us somewhere else!” The commotion was drawing a crowd of neighbors, which only emboldened the tenants to shout louder. That afternoon, flush with their perceived power, they doubled down. Jenna and Mike, leading their little delegation, knocked on my door again. This time, they came bearing a printed list of demands. “Olivia,” Jenna said, arms crossed, chin held high. “We’ve decided to let the parking thing slide. But our quality of life needs to be addressed.” “We’ve all agreed that you need to replace every mattress in this building with memory foam, all the sofas with genuine leather, and all the TVs with 75-inch screens. Consider it compensation.” I stared at the absurd document. Before I could speak, Mike jumped in. “Look, Olivia, we know you’re a good person deep down, and it’s not like you’re hurting for money. Just think of it as a little bonus for us young people trying to make it in the world.” “You even waived my rent once,” he added, a smug look on his face. “Be good to us, and we’ll remember it.” He was using my past kindness as leverage, as a weapon to control me. The sight of his face then was more disgusting than any of the insults in the group chat. I looked at him, my expression unreadable. “So, this is what you’ve all decided?” “It’s the will of the people!” Jenna corrected. “It was a unanimous decision! And if you refuse, we have no problem letting the whole neighborhood weigh in on this!” Just then, my phone rang. It was the property manager. “Ms. Hayes, I have to inform you that we’ve received formal complaints from over ten other residents about the tenants in your building!” “The complaints include noise violations, improper trash disposal, obstruction of common areas, and blocking the fire lane! This is extremely serious! If you don’t rectify the situation immediately, we’ll be forced to report it to the city and issue you a substantial fine!” I took a deep breath. “I understand, Mr. Davis. I’ll handle it immediately.” I hung up, a white-hot rage surging through me. I took their list of demands and, right in front of their shocked faces, tore it into tiny pieces. “Get out.” “All of you, get out.” Mike’s face flushed a deep red. “You… What’s your attitude? You want to see what we can…?” “Do you want to see if I can have you evicted by sundown?” I cut him off, my voice dangerously low. “Don’t forget, I hold the leases. And I have the right to reclaim my property with proper notice.” My sudden shift in demeanor stunned them into silence. They exchanged uneasy glances, their blustering bravado gone. “Fine! You just wait!” Jenna spat, before turning and leading her defeated crew away. I shut the door, pulled out my phone, and began composing the email I’d already drafted in my head. It was to my lawyer. You want fairness? You want to shake things up? Fine. I’ll give you exactly what you asked for.

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Chapter 1 1 My mother was a high-class escort. She died giving birth to me, so I was raised by her “sisters-in-arms.” Growing up, I was a sponge, soaking up every trick they used to handle men. I mastered the art before I finished high school. My “moms” all said the same thing: with my face, my body, and my skills, no man alive could resist me. Too bad I had a congenital heart defect. The doctors said I wouldn’t live to see twenty. On my twentieth birthday, a woman jumped from a penthouse… and landed on me. She was an heiress, dying from a broken heart. As she lay there, she learned she’d also fatally injured me—a patient who was already struggling. She was consumed by guilt. She insisted her heart be donated to me as compensation. With her last breath, she grabbed my hand. “Please,” she begged, “take my heart… and keep loving him for me.” After I recovered, I found him. I did everything I could to seduce the man she loved. I became his golden canary. He doted on me. I had everything I wanted. Until she showed up. And suddenly, I didn’t feel like playing this part anymore. … I’d already had the housekeeper reheat dinner twice. Julian Thorne still wasn’t home. No answered calls. No replied-to texts. I knew I was just his kept woman, but this had never happened before. Just last night, he’d held me and promised he would clear his meetings to be home for my twenty-second birthday. I scrolled aimlessly through Instagram. A new post froze my thumb. Julian—a man who never posted anything—had just dropped a full photo carousel. The center image: two hands, locked together. The other eight photos were all of the same woman. Playful, cute, sultry, tender. Serena. The woman my heart’s donor had lost him to. Julian Thorne’s “white moonlight”—the one that got away. No wonder he’d ghosted me. I scoffed. Men. You really can’t count on them. But my chest started to ache. An unfamiliar, heavy sadness welled up inside me. It happened every time Julian and I were intimate—this heart, which wasn’t mine, would pound like it was trying to escape my ribs. Sigh. Stupid girl. You’re dead, and your heart is still beating for this cold, worthless man. I picked up my fork. I wasn’t waiting anymore. I was just a canary; I had no reason to be sad just because the boss’s true love was back. But the ache in my chest ruined my appetite. I picked at the food and gave up. I showered and went to bed early. Clearly, he wasn’t coming home. I was just drifting off when the mattress beside me dipped. A familiar, cold embrace. The scent of cedar and expensive gin. It was Julian. He’d actually come back. I jolted awake, spinning around, hooking my leg over his, and pressing my lips to his throat. “You missed my birthday,” I whispered. “Your punishment is seven rounds, and you’re not allowed to leave this bed until morning.” I went boneless, hanging on him like silk. His breathing instantly deepened. “Don’t move,” he growled, ripping at his tie. His voice was a low, magnetic rasp. I smiled, kissing him harder. “Where’s my present? Or… are you planning to offer yourself instead?” My warm lips moved to his ear, the words a sultry promise. I’d been asking for a specific pink diamond necklace, and he’d promised to get it for my birthday. “You little demon,” he muttered, his control snapping. “You’re going to be the death of me.” The next second, I was sinking into the soft mattress, a ship tossed on his waves. I had to admit, Julian looked like a cold, abstinent banker, but in bed, he was a different animal. This past year, he’d kept me well-fed in every sense of the word. In the height of it, he clutched me tight and gasped out one word: “Serena!” The wild rhythm in my chest stopped. The ache turned blunt and heavy. I shoved him off me, hard, and pulled the duvet over myself. He froze, realizing what he’d said. The air turned stiff and awkward. After a moment, he reached for his wallet and tossed his Amex Black Card onto the nightstand. “Sorry. I forgot your gift. Buy yourself whatever you want.” I didn’t hesitate. I reached out, my fingers tracing up his arm, until I could snatch the card. I was a canary. For me, money was always more reliable than a man. As for the feelings of the heart inside my chest… I had no control over that. Seeing that I’d taken the card, Julian relaxed, shifting back into the doting man I knew. He tapped my nose. “You little gold digger.” He leaned in again, his eyes dark. I knew that look. It was the look he got right before he pinned me to the bed again. “I love the way you look in that white dress,” he murmured. “Go put it on. Be good.” It was a dress he’d bought for me. He always made me wear it when he was in this kind of mood. But now, after seeing his Instagram post, I understood. The dress. It was Serena’s style. A chill ran down my spine. Chapter 2 Even a canary has some pride. “I’m tired,” I said, turning my back. His face darkened. He didn’t care. He moved over me, pinning me down. “Jade. Don’t piss me off tonight.” I struggled, and we twisted in the sheets. This was new. He was usually respectful in this one area. If I said no, he’d go take a cold shower. He never forced me. But tonight was different. “You remember what you are,” he hissed, his voice cold. “You’re for sale. When the client wants to play, you play.” The next morning, he realized he’d gone too far. He held me, kissing me, apologizing. “I’m sorry, baby. I was drunk, I lost control. It was my fault.” I gave him nothing. “Come on, be good,” he coaxed. “You told me you’ve never been to an amusement park, right? I’ll take the day off. We’ll go to Six Flags, just us. A makeup for your birthday.” He was patient, trying to charm me. I was still furious, but my brain reminded me of my role. He was right. I was for sale. A good canary knows when to take the win. I stretched, letting out a little moan. “You were so rough… you hurt me. I don’t care. You have to dress me.” He chuckled, pulling me onto his lap. “Fine, you little demon.” An hour later, we were finally ready to leave. And an uninvited guest ran through the front door. Serena. “Julian, help me!” she cried, her perfect face frantic. Julian was by her side in an instant. “What’s wrong?” “My cat, Mr. Bojangles! He’s gone! I’ve looked everywhere, and you weren’t answering your phone. I didn’t know who else to call!” She looked so fragile. Then she saw me. Her eyes narrowed, and she deliberately tilted her head, letting her hair fall back. A pink diamond necklace sparkled at her throat. My birthday present. He hadn’t forgotten to buy it. He’d just given it to someone else. All my interest in Six Flags vanished. I was about to tell Julian to just go, but he was already pulling her toward the door. “Let’s go. I’ll help you look.” He didn’t even look at me. He just left. Wow. He really does forget you exist the second he’s out of bed. My heart ached again. I kicked off the Manolos he’d just buckled onto my feet and slid into a pair of comfortable flats. I dialed Roxy, my favorite of my “moms.” Julian gave me a black card. It would be a sin to let it go to waste. Roxy had been seeing a powerful lawyer, and she’d pulled some strings to get me a scholarship to a design school in Italy. I needed cash. In a single afternoon, Roxy helped me liquidate $250,000 from Julian’s card into my own account. He must have been very busy looking for that cat. Not a single call. I took my moms out for a huge dinner. Roxy told me my flight was in a week. They were all so proud. As the party ended, Julian finally called. “Where are you? I’ll send the driver.” One more week. I could play the part for one more week. I gave him the address. The car was waiting, but it didn’t take me home. It took me to a high-end private club where he sometimes met his friends. The second I walked into the private room, I saw him. Julian, with Serena nestled in his lap, talking to his buddies. “So, I’d like to formally introduce Serena,” he was saying. “The most important woman in my life.” One of his friends, Ben, looked up and saw me standing in the doorway. He smirked. “She’s the most important, huh? Then what about your ‘little treasure’?” Chapter 3 My stupid heart tensed. I was actually waiting to hear his answer. “You mean Jade?” Julian’s voice was lazy, thoughtful. “She’s… effective. Always helps me sleep.” The room erupted in laughter. All eyes turned to me. Julian looked over, his gaze meeting mine. He looked a tiny bit uncomfortable, but he recovered and beckoned me over. Serena, in his lap, just smirked at me. That damn heart. It was twisting again. Whatever. It’s true. I was born from a line of women who got paid for this. I was with him to fulfill a dying wish and to make my exit fund. I never expected love. Thinking this, I plastered a dazzling, sultry smile on my face. I walked forward, deliberately bumped into Serena, and slid right into Julian’s lap, displacing her. “You bad boy,” I purred, “If I take such good care of you… don’t I deserve a little reward?” Serena was stunned by my nerve. She grabbed her arm, “Ow! You pushed me!” Julian, who had been smiling, turned cold. “Apologize, Jade.” I shrugged. “Sure. For fifty thousand.” Julian’s smile was gone. “Jade, you really are a greedy, shameless little tramp.” Serena jumped in. “If Miss Jade loves money so much, why don’t we play a game?” “I’m listening,” I said, lazily twirling my hair. Her eyes gleamed with malice. “How about a striptease? $10,000 an item. What do you say?” Julian was staring daggers at me. He was a prude; he hated it when I even wore a low-cut dress out of the house. He would never let this happen. I didn’t even look at him. I scanned the room. Nine men, plus Serena. All of them watching. “No problem,” I said. “Ten people. $10,000 per person. Per item.” The men looked at Julian. He didn’t move. They all cheered. “Deal! Take it off!” Serena’s face tightened—she hadn’t expected me to include her. “Fine! Let’s see how low you’ll go.” I unzipped my jacket and let it slide off my shoulders, revealing the tank top underneath. I pulled out my phone and opened my Zelle. “One hundred thousand, please. Then we start round two.” The little “ping” of the transfers hitting my account was the sweetest sound. Money is the source of all happiness. Serena, seeing I was only in a thin tank top, couldn’t wait. “Next! Hurry up!” I looked at all the hungry faces, then locked eyes with Julian. His face was black. I just smiled, grabbed the hem of my tank top, and started to lift it. Who cares? It’s just a bra. You see more on any beach in Miami. The fabric had just cleared my stomach when a heavy suit jacket was thrown over my head, smelling of cedar. “Have you no self-respect?” I peeked out. Julian was in his shirtsleeves, his face thunderous. He snatched my phone, opened his banking app, and sent me $200,000. “You want money? Fine! But stop embarrassing me. Put your clothes on and go home.” “Julian!” Serena whined. He just patted her hand, his eyes still on me. “Thanks, Daddy!” I cooed. I leaned up, gave him a loud, wet kiss on the cheek, grabbed my jacket, and walked out.

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It was a few days after I gave Chad Pei my first time. My brother, Joshua, suddenly called and asked me to dinner. My eyes stung as I looked at the man who, not long ago, had whispered in my ear that he would cherish me for a lifetime. Now, Chad was blushing as he carefully peeled a shrimp for another girl. My brother, oblivious, just grinned at me. “Jealous? Feeling like you want to start dating, too?” I fought back the tears and managed a smile. “Yeah, Joshua. Weren’t Mom and Dad saying they wanted to set me up with someone really great?” “I’m in.” The bowl in Chad’s hand suddenly slipped and crashed to the floor. 1 A waiter quickly came over to clean up the shattered porcelain. My brother shot Chad a confused look. “Dude, what’s wrong with you? Get a girlfriend and you can’t even hold a bowl steady?” The panic on Chad’s face vanished in an instant, so fast I thought I’d imagined it. He leaned back, cool and composed, a slight smirk on his lips. “You got it.” Chloe Fuchs gazed at him, her eyes shy and shimmering like a spring pond. “Oh, stop it.” Chad leaned back in his chair, draping an arm casually over the back of hers, effectively pulling her into his space. He looked down at her, his expression radiating pure adoration. “What, you don’t like hearing that? Hmm?” Chloe gave him a playful shove. My brother covered his face, groaning about their public display of affection. I just kept my head down and focused on my food, pretending not to notice the way Chad’s eyes kept darting in my direction. Joshua returned to our previous conversation. “Lils, were you serious just now? If you’re not joking, I’m totally going to call up Connor Kang and set something up.” My hand tightened around my spoon. I took a sip of soup before forcing another smile. “Of course, I’m serious. Seeing how in love Chad and Chloe are, it just makes me want to find someone, too.” I put extra emphasis on the words in love. Chad’s hand, midway to his mouth with a spoonful of soup, paused for a fraction of a second. Then he turned to Chloe, his voice soft. “Careful, it’s hot.” My brother laughed. “Alright, alright! It’s about time my little sister started dating. I’ll call Connor as soon as we get home.” Clang. The sound of a spoon hitting the table was jarringly loud. Chad’s voice was low. “Sorry. Slipped.” Chloe took his hand, her voice laced with concern. “Did you burn yourself?” Joshua groaned again about being the third wheel, complaining that he shouldn’t have invited me out last minute, forcing me to suffer through their lovey-dovey display with him. Chloe’s cheeks were flushed the color of a sunset. Toward the end of the meal, Chloe excused herself to go to the restroom. Just then, my brother got a call and had to go move his car. Suddenly, it was just Chad and me at the table. He idly flicked a lighter on the table, one eyebrow raised. “Well, look at you, Lily Shen. All grown up.” His tone was laced with sarcasm. “Learned how to play hard to get, have you?” Even a fool could feel the sharp edge in his words. The bitterness I’d been suppressing rose in my chest again, a giant hand squeezing my heart until it ached. I struggled to speak, to force a smile. “What? Is there a rule that says you’re allowed to start fires, but I can’t even light a candle?” Chad’s lips parted, as if to say more, but then Chloe reappeared. He tossed out a hurried sentence. “Don’t overthink it. I’ll explain when we get back.” Then he left me, rising to meet Chloe with a welcoming smile. She said her professor needed her for something, so she had to head back to campus. Chad nodded in understanding, wrapping an arm around her waist to walk her out. Chloe looked back at me apologetically. “We have to go, Lily. See you later.” I just shook my head, mumbling that it was fine. As they left, Chad kept glancing back, but I just stared down at my plate, refusing to meet his eyes. When Joshua returned to an empty table, he was bewildered. “Where’d Chad go? He was supposed to pay today. Did he seriously dine and dash?” I didn’t answer. My brother, still not sensing my distress, just grabbed his coat and went to settle the bill. 2 We were stopped at a red light when Joshua finally broke the silence. “Lils, what’s wrong? You’ve been quiet ever since we left the restaurant.” I forced a smile, trying to change the subject. “Joshua… I think I want to come home.” He slammed on the brakes, his face lighting up with pure joy. “You finally want to come home? Seriously? That’s fantastic! I’m telling Mom and Dad right now. I’ll have Maria redecorate your room, anything you want. Just tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll make it happen.” As he started driving again, he continued to ramble. “So, when do you want to move back? Today? Is that too soon? Would it be a hassle for everyone?” I looked at him, suddenly anxious. He reached over and affectionately ruffled my hair. “Silly girl, what are you talking about? It’s never a hassle when family comes home. Don’t you worry about a thing. Hey, should we let Chad know?” I shook my head softly. “No, let’s not. It’s a small thing, no need to bother him. I wouldn’t want Chloe to get the wrong idea.” Joshua nodded, then launched into a detailed plan for redecorating my room. I turned my head to the window, quickly wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. The trees outside blurred into a green streak. It was on a day just like this that I first went to live with the Peis. When I was three, an old beggar came to our door. After my mother gave him a meal, he looked at me with an unnervingly serious gaze and told her, “If you want this child to see her eighteenth birthday, she must be raised far away from you. Otherwise, she is fated to perish before she turns ten.” My parents dismissed it as nonsense at first. But after my third birthday, I started getting sick. Constantly. The worst time, the hospital issued a critical condition notice. In a moment of panic, my brother reminded my parents of the old man’s words. After much debate, they decided it was better to be safe than sorry. So, they sent me to live with close family friends in the next city over. The Pei family. Chad’s family. I had lived in their home for fifteen years. By the time the car pulled up to the Pei’s villa in the hills, the tear tracks on my face had dried, and my brother was none the wiser. I jumped out of the car, feigning cheerfulness. “Hey, Joshua, just give me a minute. I’ll grab my stuff. I’ll be quick.” The garden in front of the villa was in chaos. Workers were bustling about, digging and planting. Seeing me, the Pei’s housekeeper looked flustered. “…Miss Shen. Why are you back so early?” I was confused at first, until I saw it: all of my luggage, haphazardly piled outside the door to the storage room. The housekeeper rushed to explain. “Young Master Pei said to move you to the east wing room. It’s just… it hasn’t been prepared yet, so we had to put your things here for now. Please, have a seat. I’ll get the staff to speed things up.” A heart I thought couldn’t break any further was brutally gouged once more. I managed a bitter smile. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t their fault. I bent down and began picking up my things, carefully placing my important documents back into my suitcase. The noise from the garden was a constant hum. I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Why all the sudden landscaping?” The housekeeper answered respectfully. “The young master said there will be a happy occasion in the family soon. The future Mrs. Pei loves lilies of the valley. So we have to clear out the… unimportant plants to make room for them. He had them flown in from overseas yesterday. They’ll be here this afternoon. They’re very precious.” My mind went blank. I loved tulips. I’d mentioned it to Chad several times, how I dreamed of having a field of them in the garden. He’d either frown and say it was too much trouble, or just wave me off and tell me to ask the housekeeper. As a guest in their home, I never felt comfortable making such a frivolous request. But lilies of the valley… they were a hundred times more delicate and difficult to care for than tulips. So, it was never about it being too much trouble. It was about who he was willing to be troubled for. At the very bottom of the pile was a box of things related to Chad. The 9,999 paper cranes he’d folded for me. Our first photo together, both of us careful not to stand too close, terrified his parents might see something. A piece of coral he’d brought back from his first deep-sea dive when he was eighteen. He’d said he hoped we would share many firsts together, that he only wanted to experience the wonders of the world with me. Flashbacks from last night flooded my mind—his arms around me, his voice coaxing me into one more time. It was more nauseating than any soap opera. I had laid in his arms and asked when he would tell our parents about us. He’d said, “Soon.” And soon turned out to be today, a dinner with his girlfriend. Tears fell again. The housekeeper asked gently, “Miss Shen, are you alright? The room in the east wing has the same layout, it gets plenty of sun. It just hasn’t been used in a while, so it’s a bit dusty. If there’s anything you’re not happy with, please just say the word. Otherwise, the young master will be upset with us when he returns.” I shook my head. “There’s no need. I’m going to stay at my family’s home for a few days.” She breathed a visible sigh of relief. I picked up my suitcase and pointed to the box of memories. “Please, throw all of this away for me.” The housekeeper looked stunned, but she eventually just nodded. Fifteen years with the Peis. Today, it was finally over. My brother was slouched in the driver’s seat, playing on his phone. When he saw me emerge, he leaped out to help with my suitcase. “You sure you don’t want to stay a few more days?” he asked. I glanced back at the villa, just a few yards away, and gave a bitter laugh. “No. I’m done.” 3 On the highway home, Chad called. I ignored it, treating it like a spam call. My brother was focused on driving and didn’t notice. He brought up the dinner again. I finally broke, my voice hesitant. “Joshua… how do Chad and Chloe know each other?” My brother sighed, lost in thought. “Ah, Chloe. She’s Chad’s ‘one that got away.’ His dream girl. He’s been single all these years, just waiting for her to come back to him. In high school, he even got suspended for her. She was waitressing, and some customer was harassing her. Chad grabbed a beer bottle and smashed it over the guy’s head. He broke the guy’s ribs, got his own leg broken in the fight, and they both ended up at the police station. Since Chad was a minor, they settled it with money, but because he’d skipped school to be there, he still got suspended.” He shrugged. “That’s what I heard, anyway. I wasn’t at the same high school. You were away at that summer camp, so you probably never heard about it.” My heart, already at rock bottom, plunged into an abyss. So that’s what happened. That summer camp. We were camping at a national park. That night, a few workers from a nearby construction site snuck into our campground. I can still feel it—the calloused hand on my thigh, the sticky, nightmarish feeling that clung to me like a disease. There were screams. I wasn’t the only one. The other girls’ parents arrived one by one, demanding answers. My parents were overseas. My brother was at his dorm and couldn’t get there quickly. I didn’t want to bother Chad’s parents. The only person I could think of was Chad. When I called him, my hands shaking, I expected him to drop everything and come right away. But his voice on the phone was vague. “…I’ve got something going on over here. Can you just hang tight for a bit? Okay? I promise, you’ll see me first thing in the morning. I swear it.” Disappointed, I agreed. The camp put us up in a hotel. I couldn’t sleep that night. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could smell was the stale smoke on that stranger’s clothes. The next morning, an exhausted-looking Chad appeared at my hotel room door. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I threw myself into his arms and sobbed. He stumbled back, sighing with a mix of helplessness and affection. “Hey, hey, I’m here now, aren’t I? What’s with all the tears?” It was only after I’d cried my eyes out that I noticed he was on crutches. He told me he’d injured himself playing basketball. That he had to sneak past the nurses at the hospital to get here. I was flooded with guilt and sadness. I gently touched his injured leg. “Does it still hurt? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” He gave a wry smile. “It hurts,” he teased. “But if you kiss it better, it might stop.” He froze after he said it, as shocked as I was. Because I actually stood on my tiptoes and placed a soft, fleeting kiss on his jawline. I tried to pull away, mortified, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms. His breathing was heavy, his voice suddenly thick and raspy, as if he was fighting for control. He spoke through gritted teeth, each word deliberate. “Lily! Kissing… that’s the guy’s job.” I just mumbled, “Oh,” my mind a complete blank. “Why are you crying?” My brother’s worried voice pulled me from the memory. He was about to pull over, but I grabbed a handful of tissues and quickly wiped my face, inventing an excuse. “…I was just so moved by Chad and Chloe’s love story.” Joshua looked at me, half amused, half exasperated. “You girls are so sentimental. It’s that easy to make you cry?” He was about to say more when his phone buzzed. The screen lit up with Chad’s name. I turned to stare out the window, terrified my expression would give me away. Chad’s deep voice, laced with a strange anger, filled the car through the speakers. “Joshua, do you have any idea where your sister is?”

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My brother, Liam, defied the rules of our world for me. Instead of doting on the story’s protagonist, the fake heiress, he chose to care for me, the real one. Every time he was kind to me, the System that governed our lives would punish him with an electric shock. He told me he’d rather be electrocuted to death than stop loving his true sister. And yet, the night before I was scheduled to give my valedictorian speech, I was abducted, dragged to an abandoned construction site, and violated by a gang of thugs. They broke all my limbs and cut out my tongue. In my final moments of despair, I somehow connected to my brother’s System. [Host, you sent a live location to the gang and told them to torture your sister until she was crippled. Don’t you think it’s time to call them off?] My brother’s voice, as cold and smooth as marble, replied. “I can’t. This part of the plot is non-negotiable. We can’t let it happen to Isabelle, can we?” “Besides, Sophia is the destined protagonist of a ‘pampered-by-all’ novel. No matter how much damage she takes, she’ll regenerate. This is just… making the most of her.” “When it’s all over, I’ll be twice as good to her to make up for it.” My heart turned to ash. I stopped fighting death. 1 “Damn, the valedictorian is tougher than she looks.” “We’ve had more than twenty guys go at her, and she’s still breathing…” In the dark, filthy cell, the instruments of torture, caked with my own flesh and blood, were piled high in a corner. A hulking man grabbed my chin, forcing my head up. He saw the way I’d bitten my lips to shreds from the pain and let out a booming laugh. “Well, well, look at the precious Miss Thorne. After getting a taste of the boys, you’re looking even more tender and juicy!” His thumb ground against my lips. Then, with a sudden jerk, he ripped the filthy gag from my mouth. “You know, we’ve had our fun with the back door, but I haven’t had a taste of this mouth yet.” “I wonder how it compares to the girls downtown?” Before I could spit a curse, another one of them chimed in. “It’s even better when there’s only half a tongue left.” I saw their eyes fix on me, and I scrambled backward in terror. A second later, a hand tangled in my hair, slamming my head against the concrete floor. A flash of cold steel. I screamed, clamping my hands over my mouth as blood erupted between my fingers. The searing pain was a relentless hammer against my nerves, making me want to smash my own head against the wall just to make it stop. Through the haze, someone yanked me up by my hair… And on the brink of death, I heard a conversation. A sterile, electronic voice: [Liam, your sister, Sophia, is at her absolute limit. Any more of this, and she will suffer a complete mental and physical collapse. She will die. You have to stop this!] I thought I was hallucinating, my mind playing tricks on me as I died. “No!” The voice that answered… it was truly my brother’s. He was the only person in our family who had ever been kind to me, but now, his tone was utterly detached. “Sophia is the story’s destined protagonist. She can’t die this easily.” “Keep going. Tell them not to hold back. Only when she suffers the same fate Isabelle did in the last life can we fool destiny… Only then can Isabelle live a good life.” The System seemed to hesitate. My brother, sensing this, added confidently, “She’s been abused since she was a child. This is nothing she can’t handle… It’s all about utility.” [When you insisted on binding Sophia as the target for this mission, you set this course. Now you have to see it through.] The mechanical voice sighed with resignation. My brother scoffed. “What’s the rush? Sophia won’t die. Better to get it all over with at once than to have to do it again, but worse, next time…” His voice was gentle, but each word was a knife in my heart. “She’s the only one in this world who can cheat fate. It’s not what I want, but it’s the only way. She has to take Isabelle’s place in this fated death, so our family can be whole and happy for the rest of our lives.” “Isabelle is my sister, too. I can’t just stand by and watch her be brutalized and left to die, can I?!” “…I have to ensure she has a safe and happy future. Only then can I rest.” I coughed, and a spray of dark blood spattered the floor. The pain burned my heart to cinders. So that’s all I was. A tool for my brother to save someone else. “Tch, what a buzzkill. Her face is covered in blood…” More brutes appeared, laying me flat on an iron table, their hands roaming over my body. Two needles pierced my chest, sharp and deep. “Man, if the valedictorian wears these to her speech tomorrow, haha, imagine if someone sees them! Everyone will know what a little slut she is!” “Take more pictures. We could sell them as a set.” One of them set up a high-definition camera, aiming it directly at my face. Through waves of agony, I was torn apart. Again. And again. 2 It was horrifying. Excruciating. And the person who had orchestrated this inhuman suffering was the one who had been my reason for surviving in this world—my own brother, Liam. “Hey, valedictorian, guess what?” one of the men whispered, his teeth sinking into my earlobe. “Back when you were hiding at school…” “Why do you think we could always find you, no matter where you ran, no matter which corner you hid in?” He tore his teeth away. Through the blinding pain, I remembered the nightmarish footsteps and shadows that had haunted me for weeks. I thought back to the conversation I’d just overheard. The truth dawned on me. And with it, a deeper despair. “Since you’ve been such a good girl for us, I’ll let you in on the secret—” “It was the family ID your parents linked to you at your ‘welcome home’ party.” I couldn’t stop shaking. A profound, soul-crushing sorrow washed over me. I never imagined that the very people I would have called for help would be the ones to betray me. We were bound by blood, yet they treated me like an enemy. Even the one exception, my dear brother… [Warning! Protagonist Sophia’s life signs are critical. World stability is at risk of imminent collapse!] The System’s alarm blared in my mind. I heard it. A tiny, pathetic flicker of hope ignited in my chest. No matter what, he wouldn’t drag the entire world down with him just to save Isabelle, would he? My brother spoke, his words sharp and cold as ice. “Shut up, System! All that’s left is the castration. That will complete the ritual.” “How can we stop at such a critical moment?!” “If we stop, Isabelle will have to suffer through this, and she won’t survive! Our family won’t be whole! All my efforts will have been for nothing. I won’t allow it!” The mechanical being seemed stunned. [Enough! What does Isabelle’s fate have to do with her?] [How long has she been back with this family? And she’s already been torn to shreds for you!] [If anyone owes a debt here, it’s all of you who owe her… Why are you torturing the victim?] Liam sounded like he was in agony. His voice was a hysterical, distorted roar. “You think I don’t know that?!” “But she’s the only one who can survive a situation that guarantees death!” “We’ve come this far! Better to sacrifice one part of her than to let Isabelle die a horrible death!” “And Sophia is the protagonist! She won’t die!” “I’m protecting my family’s future! Don’t you understand?!” He finished his rant, wiped his face, and his voice became chillingly calm. “Don’t worry. I won’t let her die.” “After she’s fulfilled her purpose, I’ll have someone call an ambulance. Even if she’s on a catheter for the rest of her life, a vegetable, I’ll take care of her.” But would that be living? My heart went cold. I closed my eyes, shutting out the physical pain they were inflicting on my body. …It’s fine. No one cares about me. It’s no loss if I die. My will to live evaporated completely. I let my soul drift downward. Into the abyss. [Damn it! Someone go save her! She’s not breathing!] The System was panicking now, its voice a frantic shout. I couldn’t hear my brother’s voice anymore. It was as if my mind had blocked him out, the one person who swore he would protect me, the one who had hurt me the most. [Enough, stop! Why are you still desecrating her corpse?!] [You’re all insane! Insane!] [Stop it! Stop!!] [Sophia! Sophia, you can’t die… You can’t die!] The noise was a chaotic storm in my head. With the last shred of my strength, I forced my eyelids open. My body was a ruin. The “men” in the room were still laughing, their faces twisted into monstrous grins. At some point, they had even brought in hyenas. I watched them play. A desolate coldness filled me. And only then, fashionably late, did my brother burst through the door with his people. His face was as white as a sheet. He flew to my side. “Sophia, don’t be afraid… brother’s here! Please, don’t you die on me…” 3 When I woke up, I was in a hospital. An oxygen mask covered my face, and tubes snaked out of my body. The only thing I could move was my eyelids. My teachers and classmates, people I hadn’t seen in months, came to visit with flowers and fruit. They saw the girl they once envied, the golden child, now reduced to a broken shell waiting to die. They sighed with pity and sorrow. “This is just too tragic. She can’t speak, can’t write… How is she supposed to live?” “She was our valedictorian! Now, none of the top universities are even mentioning her name…” “God, today was supposed to be her day of glory.” “…Liam, you have to make those monsters pay!” A complex, pained emotion flashed in Liam’s eyes. He looked at me, then at everyone in the room, and made a solemn promise. “Don’t worry. I will make those devils pay for what they’ve done!” The sound of his voice triggered my deepest nightmare. I began to tremble uncontrollably. “Beep-beep-beep—Alert! Alert!” “I told you the patient needs absolute calm! Why are you agitating her?” A nurse rushed in, silencing the blaring alarm on the heart monitor. My brother looked at me, confused, then explained helplessly. “Sophia is my beloved sister! Why would I ever upset her?” “Back when she had that stalker, my voice was the only thing that could calm her down. She would only fall asleep peacefully if she was lying with her head in my lap while I massaged her temples…” His words were a bitter irony. The days when he was my only salvation were gone forever. He was the one who swore to love me, and he was the one who had turned me into this ghost. The thought made me sick with grief and pain. The life-support machines flashed red again, and I was rushed back into the emergency room. Liam paced anxiously outside, muttering to himself. “She’ll live, right? She has to live… And she’ll never know, right? She can’t know…” That afternoon, after I was moved out of the ER, I heard the local news playing on the TV in my room. Isabelle was giving the valedictorian speech at my high school in my place. She looked radiant. It was a stake through my eyes, a spike in my ears. “Hahaha, how does it feel? Beaten half to death by a bunch of men, unable to even speak?” The fake heiress, Isabelle, suddenly burst into my room, a triumphant sneer on her face. “Your dear, loving brother did all of this. For me.” I pretended not to react. But my heart still clenched in an agony I couldn’t control. Thank you, Liam. Thank you for reminding me, once again, that the person who hurt me the most was my own flesh and blood. Seeing that her taunts weren’t working, Isabelle’s face twisted in rage, and she beckoned a group of people into the room. A horde of sleazy tabloid reporters with cameras and microphones flooded in. Trailing behind them were the very men my brother had sworn to punish that morning. “Well, hello there, valedictorian.” “This time, you get to star in your own little show. A little something extra for the kids back at school, you know?” “Haha, this is gonna sell like crazy!” one of the reporters exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. My wounds tore open, and fresh blood poured out, staining the white sheets crimson. “What are you all doing?!” My brother burst through the door. His face went pale with fury. “Get out! All of you, get out!” Isabelle quickly shooed the men into hiding, then turned to Liam with a perfectly innocent expression. “Liam, don’t misunderstand! Sophia hired them! I think… I think she can’t accept that she’s gone from being the top student to a useless cripple, so she staged all this for sympathy…” Liam looked at me with disbelief. “I can’t believe you’ve become this kind of person. You’ve disappointed me so much.” He turned to the nurses. “Cut off all her medication!” I plunged into the abyss. The world went silent, save for the steady beeping of the machines. “Enjoy it,” Isabelle whispered as they left. “This is a graduation gift from me and your family.” I don’t know how long the pain lasted. The next thing I heard was a final, cold decree from the System. [The protagonist is dead. World collapse countdown initiated.]

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I was on the interstate when the dashboard screen flashed: [BRAKE CREDITS: 1. RECHARGE REQUIRED.] I froze. My scalp went cold. This had to be a joke. I was about to stab the “Recharge” button when a new menu popped up: [$99.99 – PLATINUM PACKAGE: 10,000 BRAKE CREDITS. (Instant Activation)] [$49.99 – GOLD PACKAGE: 5,000 BRAKE CREDITS. (Activation may take 24 hours)] Gritting my teeth, I selected the $99.99 package. The screen refreshed again. [Please watch the following 30-second advertisement to activate your purchase.] [To skip this ad, please purchase our AD-FREE VIP PASS!] 1. “Buy! Buy it! Authorize payment!” As I was yelling, a semi-truck pulled into my lane up ahead. My brake credits hadn’t activated. I could only slam my foot off the accelerator, letting the car coast, trying to manage the gap. But another big rig was now tailgating me, its headlights flooding my cabin. My heart hammered against my ribs. Do I swerve into the fast lane? What if someone is coming up behind me? What if I get boxed in? I couldn’t slow down. I was pinned between two 18-wheelers. Maybe the shoulder? At night, the shoulder is a death trap. The car’s calm, cheerful AI voice chirped: [Please select your Ad-Free VIP Pass tier.] [Monthly: $28.88. That’s less than a dollar a day!] [Annual: $168.88. That’s less than fifty cents a day!] I was roaring, “Authorize! Pay! Just activate the brakes!” [I’m sorry, I cannot process your request until the current promotional message is complete. Please listen patiently.] I was on the verge of a panic attack. The truck behind me was getting closer. I slammed my hazards on and laid on the horn, hoping the driver behind me would get the message and pass. But that’s not standard highway communication. The truck was just getting closer. I had to accelerate to avoid being crushed from behind, but the truck in front of me was a wall. If I sped up, I’d just plow right into it. Worse, in the second I hesitated, a sedan shot into the fast lane, its blinker on. If I changed lanes now, I’d be trapped, forced to match his speed. We’d all be dead. I remembered a few days ago, the dash had prompted me to pay for a “vehicle diagnostics report.” I figured, it’s an EV, what’s to diagnose? I ignored it. I never imagined “diagnostics” included the number of times I could stop my own car. Is this even real? Does a car company get to charge for brakes? Did I pay seventy thousand dollars for a metal box where every basic function is a microtransaction? I kept scanning my mirrors. The sedan was closer. The truck was closer. Then, the truck behind me slowed and put its left turn signal on. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. He understood. I checked the dash. The AI was finally finishing its speech. […Or get our Ad-Free SUPER-VIP Pass for only $588.88/year, which includes a free streaming subscription and bonus data!] “Buy the monthly pass! Authorize payment!” I was saved. My life was my own again. And then the screen froze. A loading icon spun for a few seconds. [Purchase page cannot be loaded using complimentary data. Please purchase a premium data package to complete your transaction.] [Would you like to open the Premium Data menu?] I… I had no words. “Open… open the premium data menu,” I choked out. The calm voice returned, listing data plans. But as it was speaking, the traffic situation changed instantly. The truck in front of me slammed its brakes. The sedan in the fast lane cut behind me, also braking hard. The truck behind me flashed its high beams. What was happening? A crash? Debris on the road? I only had one stop left. 2. “There’s a car on the shoulder!” My heart sank. My plan to just ditch the car on the shoulder was gone. Up ahead, a car had smashed into the guardrail and was now blocking the emergency lane. The fast lane was littered with pieces of a bumper. That’s why everyone was slowing down. All three lanes were now a parking lot. My car was wedged between a wall of steel, with no way out. I was tapping the accelerator, just trying to maintain my position, terrified of rolling backward or forward. And the whole time, the AI was calmly listing data package options. I tried to just stab the screen, but the interior camera flashed. [Driver, please focus on the road for your safety!] I was going to have a stroke. “You worthless piece of crap!” I screamed. “You want me to focus? Give me my brakes! You want me to die with a clear view of what’s about to kill me? IS THAT IT?” I’d been on the highway for an hour. I’d used my brakes maybe… five times? This wasn’t a warning. This was an ambush. The car knew I was on the highway. It knew I’d be forced to buy the most expensive “instant” package. It was holding my life for ransom. Finally, we crept past the accident. The sedan and the truck behind me sped up and passed. I immediately swerved onto the shoulder and slammed my hazards on. I got out, put the reflective triangle 150 yards back, and got back in the car, shaking. Time to pay the ransom. The data package had the same logic. The expensive one was instant. The cheap one would activate in 24 hours. I paid $68 for the data. I paid $588 for the ad-free VIP. I paid $99.99 for the 10,000 brake credits. By the time I was done, I was exhausted. I’d just survived a hostage negotiation. I opened the dashcam footage. I was going to sue this company into the ground. But… if they could do this with my brakes, what could they do with my footage? I took out my phone and started recording the dashcam screen. Just as I expected, when I tried to export the file, a message popped up: [Dashcam footage is proprietary and cannot be exported.] It’s my car. My footage. I tried again. My phone rang. An unknown number. “Hello, Mr. Evans? This is Aura Customer Support. We detected an attempt to export dashcam footage. Are you reporting an accident?” I didn’t give them anything. “Yes.” “Thank you, sir. An Aura engineer will be in contact with you shortly to assist in retrieving your footage.” I agreed. I hung up and looked at the dashcam. The screen was now black. [Dashcam Malfunction. System error. Format to restart? (Y/N)] 3. I drove the rest of the way under the speed limit and got home. I never wanted to see this car again. “Sarah,” I said to my wife, “we need to talk about getting a new car.” She frowned. “What? You just got a promotion and you’re already trying to spend it?” “That car is two years old, Mark. We’ll lose so much on a trade-in.” I looked at her. I didn’t want to scare her. But she rides in this car. I lit a cigarette. “It’s not safe. I almost died tonight. On the highway.” Her eyes went wide. “What? But… they said it was the safest car on the market! It’s an Aura! We paid seventy thousand dollars for it! We drove a ten-thousand-dollar Honda for a decade and never had a problem!” I told her everything. The brake credits. The ads. The data ransom. Her eyes filled with tears. She hugged me, hard. “We’ll sell it,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “We’ll sell it tomorrow. You’re the only thing that matters. If anything happened to you…” “We’re selling it,” I agreed. “But they’re not getting away with this. They have to answer for it.” The next morning, my phone rang. “Mr. Evans? This is Aura. You requested your dashcam footage?” “Yes,” I said, my voice ice. “I’m very sorry, Mr. Evans, but we cannot provide that service. Downloading footage involves proprietary manufacturer protocols.” “I need that footage for a lawsuit.” “I’m very sorry,” the rep said, in that same dead, monotone voice, “but we cannot provide that service. Is there anything else I can help you with today?” It was a human, but he was reading a script. Then, I’m pretty sure, he just toggled the AI. I hung up and drove to the dealership. I found the manager and told him the story. He nodded politely. “Sir, I am very sorry for your trouble. But our dealership is just sales and service. The software subscription model… that’s not us. That’s Aura corporate.” “Wait,” I said. “Hold on. When I bought this car, you sold it to me as an Aura. The Aura Infinity. Now that it’s trying to kill me, you’re telling me it’s a Momentum Motors car?” “Sir,” the manager said, his face a plastic mask, “your issue is with the software provider. You need to file a complaint with Aura.” He turned to walk away. I lost it. “You’re all still buying this crap?” I yelled at the other customers in the showroom. “They’re selling you death traps! They sell it as an Aura, then blame Momentum when it fails! Is that how this works?” Two security guards grabbed me and started hauling me toward the door. The manager pulled out his phone. “Yes, police? There’s a man here… he’s trespassing and threatening my customers.”

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The day my mom chased me down the street with a broom, making me duck and weave like a stray dog, my billionaire biological parents showed up. They told me I’d suffered all these years. As I watched the translucent comments float past my eyes: 【Suffered? She beat a gang of thugs into calling her ‘Big Sis’ just yesterday!】 I felt nothing. In fact, I was tempted to ask if they needed a resident enforcer. That is, until the comments flooded my vision: 【The fake heiress is being cornered and bullied in the school bathroom by the campus kingpin! She’s crying so hard she can barely breathe!】 I yanked the car door open. “Let’s go. We’re going home now.” It wasn’t that I wanted a family reunion. It was that my fists were starting to itch. 1 The broom whistled past the back of my head as my mom’s roar shook the cheap plaster of the surrounding buildings. “You little brat! If I don’t skin you alive today, I’ll take your last name!” I dodged with practiced ease. The air was filled with the jeers of our neighbors and the crunch of cheap snacks. Just then, a sleek black car, its sharp lines screaming a price tag that could buy our entire block, glided to a silent stop at the end of the alley. It was like a panther stalking into the heart of the slums. The doors opened, and a man and a woman stepped out. He was in a tailored suit, radiating a quiet authority. She was draped in jewels, her eyes red-rimmed. Their gazes locked onto me with an unnerving precision, filled with a strange mix of excitement and… guilt? My mom froze, broom still in hand. She looked at the car, then at the couple, her own formidable presence shrinking by half. “You damn girl,” she muttered under her breath, “what kind of trouble did you get into now? Who are these people?” I ignored her, squinting at the couple. I didn’t recognize them, but there was a strange… familiarity? The wealthy woman rushed forward, grabbing my dirt-stained hand as tears welled up instantly. “My child… my poor, long-lost child…” I yanked my hand back, my face a blank mask. Nice acting, I thought. And in that exact moment, a few lines of semi-transparent text drifted past my eyes like ghosts: 【Poor?? She single-handedly took down three guys trying to collect protection money last week!】 【Old Man Hemlock’s psycho goose now flattens itself against the wall when it sees her coming!】 【The only ones suffering on this block are the local delinquents!】 Me: “…” Right. So I had an invisible live commentary crew. The man in the suit, my biological father, Richard Hawthorne, stepped forward, his voice heavy with sorrow. “Zoe, we’re your real parents. There was a mix-up at the hospital seventeen years ago. We’ve come to take you home.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over our crumbling tenement and the broom in my mom’s hand, before adding, “There’s… another daughter at home. Your sister. She’s frail and timid, and we thought it best she stay with us. Don’t worry, we’ll treat you both equally.” The comments exploded: 【Whoa! Here comes the classic trope! The real heiress has arrived, clear the way!】 【Catfight with the fake heiress! Hair-pulling! Let’s go, I live for this!】 【What catfight? You guys don’t know? The fake heiress has a stutter. She’s too scared to even talk back when she’s bullied.】 A stutter? A timid crybaby? I wasn’t afraid of anything, and my fists were solid as rocks, but I couldn’t stand two things: One, people who stuttered and couldn’t get a damn word out. Two, people who burst into tears at the drop of a hat. Both scenarios made me antsy, irritable, and my knuckles ache. “No thanks.” I turned on my heel and headed for our crooked front door. “It’s fine here. I’m free. You can go back to wherever you came from.” 【Aww, too bad. If the MC goes back, she’ll end up at the same school as the fake heiress, Blackwood Prep.】 【I heard the fake heiress gets bullied all the time because of her stutter. The rich kids there love to make fun of her.】 【Didn’t they lock her in a bathroom last time? Cried her eyes out, and no one helped.】 【Someone even made her kneel and bark like a dog…】 A stutter? Cornered in a bathroom? Kneel and bark like a dog? My eyelid twitched violently. My capacity for empathy was basically zero, but I had two fatal flaws: I couldn’t stand watching people who couldn’t fight, and I couldn’t stand watching people who did fight—the wrong way. The first made me impatient, the second made my hands itch. Especially since every thug on my block already called me “Big Sis.” There was no challenge left. “Let’s go.” I spun around, yanked open the door of the luxury car, and slid inside. “Now. Immediately.” Richard and Eleanor Hawthorne were clearly not expecting such a rapid change of heart. They stared for a second, then their faces lit up with joy. Richard quickly retrieved a briefcase from the trunk and tried to shove it into my adoptive parents’ hands. There was no polite back-and-forth. I just rolled down the window. “Any more delays and I’m getting out.” My adoptive parents instantly let go of the case. As the car pulled away from the slums, Richard and Eleanor tried to make awkward small talk. “Zoe, what do you like to do? Movies? Shopping?” Eleanor asked tentatively. “Fighting,” I said, closing my eyes. The car fell silent. The comments were a stream of【HAHAHAHA】. 2 The car entered a neighborhood of unsettling quiet, pulling up before a mansion that looked like a European castle. A butler bowed as we entered. Stepping into a grand hall with floors so polished they reflected our images, the crystal chandelier nearly blinded me. Before I could fully survey my “new map,” a soft sobbing sound drifted from the staircase. I looked up. A girl in a white dress, her eyes swollen like ripe peaches, stood trembling on the landing. She looked like a terrified fawn. The sight of us made her flinch, and the tears fell even faster. Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, but only broken, airy sounds came out. “I’m… I’m s-s-sorry… I… I…” It was her. The fake heiress from the comments, Lila Hawthorne. Her pathetic, stammering state was like a direct assault on my last nerve. The simmering frustration I’d accumulated from sheer boredom, mixed with my natural revulsion for bullying, instantly ignited. I strode over to her, my brows furrowed in pure impatience. “Who did it?” She flinched back, stumbling a step, fat tears splattering on the marble floor as she broke down completely. Richard and Eleanor were clueless. “Zoe, who did what?” I pointed at Lila, who was on the verge of hyperventilating. “Her! At school! Who bullied her into this state? Give me a name!” Lila’s head snapped up. She stared at me through her tears, her expression one of utter shock. The comments went insane: 【DAMN, sis is on FIRE!】 【Straight to the point! I love it!】 【Ask her! Quick, tell her it was that bastard Marcus!】 Pinned by my glare, Lila shrank back, sobbing out a broken sentence. “It… it was M-Marcus… Th-they… b-bathroom…” “Enough. Your stuttering is giving me a headache,” I cut her off, turning to Richard. “Get me transferred. Now. To her school.” Richard and Eleanor exchanged a look, as if they wanted to object. My eyes hardened. “Or I can just tear this living room apart right now. Your call.” They believed me. 3 The next day, I stood at the gates of Blackwood Prep—an academy reeking of money and hypocrisy. I wore an ill-fitting, brand-new uniform, my backpack completely empty. The comments dutifully served as my GPS and spoiler source: 【Warning! High-energy zone ahead! Grade 11, Class 3, home base of campus kingpin Marcus Thorne and his cronies!】 【The fake heiress is in Class 2 next door. She’s currently being harassed by Marcus’s lackeys.】 【Go get ’em, Big Sis! For justice (and the sheer thrill of the beatdown)!】 I walked straight to the back door of Class 3. Inside, a guy with a few obnoxious blond streaks in his hair had his foot propped on a chair, flicking rubber bands at the back of a smaller boy’s head, much to the amusement of his posse. This had to be Marcus. I knocked on the open doorframe, a dull, heavy sound. The classroom fell silent. All eyes turned to the new face. Marcus turned his head lazily, looking me up and down with a contemptuous smirk. “Newbie? What do you want?” I ignored him, my gaze fixed first on the boy who was being pelted with rubber bands, then sweeping over the obvious lackeys. “You lot,” my voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the silence, “yesterday, who was involved in cornering a girl in the bathroom and making her kneel and bark like a dog?” The smirk on Marcus’s face froze, then darkened. “Who the hell are you? None of your business.” A short, stout crony next to him snickered. “Where’d this hick come from, trying to stick up for that little stutterer?” I nodded, confirming my targets. Good. The next second, before anyone could react, I lunged forward. I grabbed the stout crony by his collar and, to the gasps of the entire class, single-handedly slammed his nearly 180-pound body against the wall. With a sickening thud, the whole room seemed to vibrate. The crony didn’t even grunt. He just slid down the wall in a boneless heap, completely stunned. I released him, cracked my knuckles, and turned to face the now-pale Marcus and the other participants, my eyes like chips of ice. “So, it was you.” The classroom was dead silent. Marcus shot to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. His face was a mask of fury and shock. “You’re fucking dead!” A corner of my mouth lifted, a smile devoid of warmth, filled only with a cold, almost cruel excitement. “No. You are.” Before the words had even faded, I was moving, an arrow released from a bow. Marcus’s fist came at me, whistling through the air. He had the posture of someone who’d taken a few flashy taekwondo classes. Pathetic. Too slow. Too many openings. I didn’t even bother to dodge. Just as his knuckles were about to connect with my nose, my right hand shot out like lightning, clamping onto his wrist. With a sharp twist and a pull— Crack. A soft, sickening crunch was followed by a pig-like squeal from Marcus. I used his own momentum to pull him off balance, sending him stumbling forward. I gave him no time to recover. My left knee shot up— “Urk—!” The knee strike landed squarely in his stomach. His scream died in his throat, replaced by a painful, retching gasp. His face turned a deep shade of purple as tears and snot streamed uncontrollably. I let go of his wrist and, as his body went limp, I grabbed his stupid blond hair and slammed his head down. THWACK! His face met the hard terrazzo floor with a sound that made teeth ache. The world went quiet. All that remained was the sound of Marcus, curled on the floor, groaning in agony, blood pouring from his nose to form a sickening red puddle. The entire exchange took less than five seconds. 4 The classroom was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The previously arrogant cronies were frozen like statues, their faces ashen, legs trembling. They stared at me not as a person, but as some man-eating monster. The comments had gone completely berserk, a dense wall of text obscuring my vision: 【HOLY S***! A total takedown! That was a genuine instant kill!】 【Is that level of skill even real? Street fighter vs. rich-boy martial arts! Total ownage!】 【I heard that face-plant! OUCH!】 【BIG SIS IS A GODDESS! (Voice crack)】 【Did the rest of them wet their pants? LOL!】 【I hereby declare myself a loyal simp for Big Sis!】 【A new queen is born! The reign of Blackwood Prep is about to change!】 I shook out my wrist, as if I’d just swatted a fly. My gaze swept over the petrified lackeys. My voice was flat, but it carried an undeniable weight. “You guys. You can either go squat in the corner yourselves, or I can help you.” They flinched as if zapped by electricity, then scrambled and stumbled to the corner of the room, hands over their heads, squatting in a perfectly aligned row. More disciplined than a military drill. I paid them no more mind. Bending down, I grabbed Marcus by the back of his collar and started dragging him out of the classroom like a sack of garbage. He struggled feebly, muffled whimpers escaping his lips, but he couldn’t budge me an inch. The hallway was already packed with students drawn by the commotion. They watched in horror as I dragged their former “kingpin” past them. A wave of whispers rose and fell, dying instantly whenever my gaze passed over them. I was the focal point of a hundred shocked, fearful, and curious stares. I ignored them all, dragging Marcus straight towards—the girls’ bathroom. Yes, the very same one where they’d tormented Lila yesterday. CRASH! I kicked the door open. A few girls inside screamed and fled. I dragged Marcus to the last stall, the “crime scene” according to the comments, and let him go. He collapsed in a heap, a bruised, bloody, pathetic mess. I looked down at him, my voice as cold as the damp floor. “Yesterday. Right here. You made her kneel?” Marcus stared up at me in terror, his lips trembling, unable to speak. “Bark like a dog?” I asked again, my tone flat, chilling him to the bone. He shook his head violently, a sob in his voice. “I… I was wrong… Big Sis… please… let me go…” “Kneel,” I commanded. It was almost a reflex. Wincing in pain, Marcus scrambled to his knees on the cold, wet tiles, his body shaking uncontrollably. “Bark,” I said. Marcus’s face was completely drained of color, a mask of humiliation and terror. But under my unblinking stare, he squeezed his eyes shut and forced out a few weak, distorted sounds from his throat. “Woof… woof…” “Didn’t you have breakfast?” I scowled. “Louder! Where’s all that energy you had yesterday?” He flinched. Tears of shame mixed with the blood running down his face as he finally shouted, his voice cracking, “WOOF! WOOF WOOF!” The sound echoed in the empty bathroom, grotesquely comical and tragic. 5 The students crowded in the hallway gasped, but no one dared come closer. 【An eye for an eye! So satisfying!】 【Public humiliation for the kingpin! I could watch this on loop for a year!】 【A little cruel, but… damn, she’s good!】 【You can’t go easy on scum like that!】 Just then, a timid, tear-choked voice came from the bathroom entrance. “S-sister…” I turned. Lila was standing there, pale as a ghost, her hands gripping the doorframe. She was staring at the kneeling, barking Marcus, her eyes wide with disbelief and… a flicker of vindication? But mostly, she was afraid. She looked at me as if I were something far more terrifying than him. “What is it?” I asked, my tone still cool. She sniffled, her voice barely a whisper. “The… the teachers… from the D-Dean’s office… they’re… they’re coming… a lot of them…” I glanced in the direction she indicated. Down the hall, a group of stern-faced administrators in suits, flanked by security guards, was marching towards us. Ah, the cavalry had arrived. My gaze returned to Marcus, who, upon hearing the teachers were coming, had a renewed spark of hope in his eyes. I crouched down, leaning in close, and said in a voice only he could hear, “Today was just the appetizer. From now on, in this school, Lila Hawthorne is under my protection.” I patted his swollen cheek, not gently. “You, or any of your little friends, ever touch a single hair on her head, or make her shed a single tear…” I paused, letting a humorless smile spread across my face. “I’ll break one of your legs. I keep my promises.” The hope in Marcus’s eyes died, replaced by pure, abject terror. He started shaking even harder. I stood up, ignoring the approaching shouts and commotion. I straightened the non-existent wrinkles on my uniform and walked calmly towards the door. Passing by Lila, I paused, frowning at her still-frightened expression. “What are you scared of?” I said. “Let’s go.” Then, under the stunned gazes of the entire student body and the rapidly approaching Dean of Students, I took the trembling Lila’s hand and walked straight towards the posse of adults who had come to “dispense justice.”

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My husband was in love again. With some girl, this time. I’ve learned my lesson. No tears, no screaming matches. I even give him a gentle nudge out the door for his dates. He’s pleased. “See?” he boasts to his friends, a proud arm slung around my shoulders at whatever cocktail party we’re at. “This is why you marry the good ones. The ones who get it.” But his friends—his brothers-in-arms—they just shift their weight and look at their drinks. Because they know. I’ve had my moments of not being so “good” with every single one of them. Especially the one in the corner, the ice king himself. Just last night, when I was so exhausted I couldn’t lift a finger, he was whispering in my ear, pinning me to the sheets. “When are you going to make this official, hmm? Say it.” 1 Alex was in love again. This time, a college girl. He was obsessed with her. And she was the clingy type. Today was my birthday. For once, Alex was actually home to celebrate. I hadn’t even blown out the candles on the sad little cupcake he’d bought when his phone started buzzing, a persistent, demanding vibration on the marble countertop. He took the call on the balcony, hiding from me. I could still hear her. “Are you really at home with her? Your boring wife?” “If you sleep in the same bed with her tonight, we’re done. I’m serious, Alex.” Her voice was all sugar and petulance. Alex didn’t even seem annoyed. He just softened his voice, charming her through the glass. “Hey, don’t be like that. My little jealous thing. I’ll just be here for the cake, and then I’m all yours, okay?” “I bought you that pink diamond you wanted. I’ll bring it with me.” That seemed to placate her. She added, in a saccharine sweet voice, “Well… you can’t kiss her.” I heard Alex chuckle. “Babe, I won’t even touch her. Deal?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Does the other woman always get to be this self-righteous? When Alex came back inside, I kindly handed him the small, velvet box from the table. The one with the pink diamond. “You grabbed the wrong one,” I said. He froze for a second, then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out another, identical box. “An emerald necklace. For your birthday.” He can’t even keep his gifts straight. Is that how little thought he puts into me now? “Thank you.” I took it without another word. No point in getting angry. Green was a fitting color for me, anyway. Maybe my quiet acceptance was too much for him. A strange look flickered in his eyes. “Maya…” He stepped closer, leaning in to kiss me. I put a hand flat against his chest, stopping him. “Don’t. Your girlfriend has rules.” His eyes darkened, a flash of anger on his face. He threw himself onto the sofa, sprawling like he owned the world. “Maya, are you trying to start a fight?” Ha. The question was so absurd it was almost funny. But I had no time for him. I picked up my phone and sent a quick text to the girl. Your man wants to get cozy. Tonight’s date might be off. A moment later, Alex’s phone rang again. And then, just like that, he was grabbing his keys and rushing out the door to put out the fire he’d started. I let out a long, slow breath. People change. I used to be terrified of him not coming home. Now, my only fear is that he’ll stay. He’s getting in the way of my plans. 2 Alex and I married for love, of course. But he was born a wild horse, and all he ever wanted was a prairie filled with other mares. Over the years, his lovers have been a blur of shapes and sizes, too many to count. In the beginning, I fought it. I cried, I screamed, I broke things. I begged him, humbled myself completely, pleading for him to cut them off, to come back to our family. Alex would just watch me with cold eyes. “Maya, stop it.” “In our world, who doesn’t have a few women on the side?” “You’re Mrs. Corbin. Isn’t that enough?” I laughed through my tears. “You’re my husband. Is it okay if I find a lineup of male models, then?” Alex’s jaw clenched. “You’re insane,” he spat. “Maya, I dare you to try.” A dare is a dare. Of course, I didn’t hire models. I just… opened my mind. I stopped trying to manage Alex’s love life. I became a placid lake, a silent observer of his messes. No tears, no tantrums. A perfect, mute wife. He loved it. After a few drinks, he’d sling his arm around me and show me off to his friends. “See? This is why you marry the good ones.” On that particular night, his friends all looked away. Because I had been “bad” with every single one of them. For every new affair Alex started, I’d secretly start one of my own. With one of his best friends. If he was going to cheat on me again and again, then I was going to knit him a beautiful, seamless crown of thorns. Especially with the one in the corner, the untouchable one, the heir to the Croft family fortune—Sebastian Croft. The night before, when I was so tired I couldn’t move, he was still pressing, whispering against my skin. “When are you going to make me the main event, hmm? Tell me.” Yes, Sebastian had become quite demanding lately. His jealousy was starting to rival that of Alex’s new girl. I opened the voice message he’d sent. His voice was like a Mojito on a hot summer night—cool, intoxicating. “Maya. Come out.” I didn’t reply. Three seconds later, a picture arrived. A neatly arranged landscape of lean, hard abs. A few drops of water, not yet dried, traced a path down the deep lines of his hips, disappearing just out of frame. Sending me a picture like that. He was practically begging me to come over and clean him up. And I’m not one to back down from a challenge. With him, it was becoming an addiction. 3 The usual spot. A suite at a five-star hotel. I stood outside the door for a minute, but there was no sound. Oh, so someone was angry. “If you don’t open this door, I’m leaving.” I don’t play these games. The door flew open and a hand with long, elegant fingers pulled me inside. Sebastian was sitting on the sofa, radiating a wounded pride. He was wrapped tightly in a robe, his face a mask of cold indifference. “What does it mean when you don’t answer my texts?” His profile was so perfect it made my voice soften against my will. “He was home. It wasn’t a good time.” His dark eyelashes trembled. “Maya, divorce him.” “I can’t.” He flinched, and the corners of his eyes immediately flushed red. “You still love him?” “Then what am I?” What are you? Don’t you know? But I couldn’t say that out loud. Out in the world, Sebastian was a shark in the boardroom, a killer at the negotiating table. But with me, he transformed into this wronged puppy, constantly acting like I was the one hurting him. And damn it all, I fell for his soft side every single time. “If I loved him, would I be here with you?” “Just… wait a little longer.” I’m past the age where love is the only thing that matters. I have my own agenda. At the end of the year, the North District project that Alex’s company has been planning for five years is set to launch. His assets could triple, maybe more. If I’m going to divorce him, I’m waiting until I can walk away with a very large check. It’s what I deserve. After all, I was the one who lived with him in a garden-level apartment and ate ramen with him when he was just starting out, broke and dreaming. I used the same placating tone on Sebastian that Alex used on his little girlfriend. “I’m not leaving tonight. I’ll stay with you. Be good.” A slow smile spread across Sebastian’s lips, his eyes so bright they could have blinded me. “Right. I’m handsome, and my… performance is excellent. There’s no reason you wouldn’t choose me.” Men are children until the day they die. He gently took my hand and guided it to the knot on his bathrobe. “Here,” he whispered, his voice turning husky. “Your gift. Come unwrap it.” He’s good. He’s very good. Faced with a temptation like this, my resistance crumbled. I think I was starting to understand Alex’s thrill. The forbidden fruit really is sweeter. But I knew this was a happiness born from moral decay. It couldn’t see the light of day; it wasn’t something the world would ever accept. “Maya, when am I getting the promotion? Hmm? Say something.” “Maya, I really, really like you. What about you?” Looking into his sincere eyes, I couldn’t answer. I reached up and stroked his cheek. A rare flicker of conscience, but a small one. I was already thinking about how to end this, and he was thinking about a future. I’ll just wait a little longer, I thought. Eventually, he’ll get bored of this, just like Alex did. They all do. The passion burns hot and bright, and then it fades to embers and ash. Besides, with rich kids like them, who knows what’s real and what’s a line? Trusting a man’s words is a good way to get your heart broken. The next day, when I dragged my sore body home, a voice cut through the morning quiet. “Where have you been?” Alex was sitting on the living room sofa. It was the first time in ages he’d been home this early. 4 I froze for a second. “I went downstairs for breakfast. Is that a crime?” I said, forcing a casual tone. Alex’s gaze swept over me, and then he was on his feet, standing directly in front of me. His eyes were dark, his voice cool. “Maya, where did that mark on your neck come from?” My mind flashed to Sebastian. My heart skipped a beat. “Stress,” I blurted out. “It’s a rash. I was pinching at it.” He stared at my neck, his expression hardening. He clearly didn’t believe me. The hickey was too obvious. He spoke through gritted teeth. “Maya, are you screwing someone else behind my back?” “Who is he?” I slammed my bedroom door shut, the sound echoing in the silent apartment. I almost caught his nose. Thank God we’d been sleeping in separate rooms. Alex’s furious voice came through the door. “Maya, if I find out you’re seeing someone, I’ll kill him.” “It’s Sebastian Croft,” I called back. “Go on. Kill him.” I knew he wouldn’t dare. The Croft family was in another league. Alex couldn’t touch him. At most, they’d have a fight, and it would be a good way to finally sever my ties with Sebastian anyway. To my surprise, Alex was silent for two seconds, then let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Maya, if you’re going to lie, at least make it believable. Sebastian Croft? A guy like that wouldn’t give you a second look.” In that moment, something inside me shriveled. It felt like a plum dropping into ice water, cold and sour. It was the contempt he held for me, laid bare. Was this why he could betray our marriage over and over without a shred of guilt? Because he had never truly valued me? The truth is, besides Sebastian, I never went all the way with his other friends. I tried. But I just couldn’t. My body wouldn’t let me. The worst time, I left the guy completely speechless. He looked down at the mess on his expensive shirt, bewildered. “I’m this handsome, and you threw up?” I apologized profusely. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you.” “It’s me. I have… a kind of emotional block.” I was different from Alex. I couldn’t be as careless with my body, with my heart. Except for Sebastian. That was an accident. A beautiful, complicated accident. “Alex, let’s get a divorce.” I couldn’t do this anymore. It was time for us both to be free. Alex was quiet for a few seconds. “Maya, you know I hate it when you throw tantrums.” “If I agree to this, you’d better not regret it.” He was so sure of himself. He thought I was just bluffing, using divorce as a threat. He had no idea how quickly the whole thing was about to blow up in his face. 5 My best friend, bless her soul, is the new events manager at a high-end boutique hotel. She insisted on giving me a voucher for a free night’s stay. Sebastian raised an eyebrow over FaceTime. “Well, I’ve never been. I demand you take me.” What we didn’t expect was that Alex and his new girl were also drawn to the same place. They had just swiped their key card and disappeared into Room 817. And I swiped mine for Room 818. One wall separating us. The thought sent a illicit thrill through me. A thrill that apparently affected Sebastian too, because the moment the door clicked shut, he pressed me against it and kissed me, deep and hungry. “Wait, hold on,” I gasped. “They’ll hear us next door.” He nibbled on my earlobe, his voice a low purr. “Don’t worry. The soundproofing in this place is decent.” How would he know that? I narrowed my eyes. “Who have you been here with?” Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “Maya, are you jealous?” “I have to say, I like it when you’re jealous for me.” “But relax. You’re the only one. All my inventory is reserved for you.” He buried his head in my neck again, his lips finding that sensitive spot. Sebastian definitely had a touch of the hopeless romantic about him. When I first started flirting with him, he was so cool and distant. Sometimes I wonder if it was all an act. Just then, my phone rang, a shrill, jarring sound. “Phone…” I mumbled. He reluctantly pulled away, his eyes glazed with desire, giving me a soft glare. I glanced at the caller ID and my stomach dropped. It was Alex. His voice on the other end was low and cold. “Open the door.” Ten seconds passed. His voice came again, laced with a threat. “Maya, I have plenty of ways to make you open this door.” He must have heard me when I gasped earlier. I know him. He’s stubborn. And if he made a scene, it would be impossible to explain. His girlfriend in one room, my… whatever Sebastian was, in the room right next door. The optics were terrible. I’d have to inconvenience Sebastian. “Can you hide in the bathroom for a minute?” He clung to me, not moving. “Am I that shameful? Someone to be hidden?” I pressed my fingertips to my temples. “That’s my husband outside the door.” “Which makes you the other man right now. Got it?” He bristled. “He’s got his mistress with him! Why does she get to be so brazen, and I have to be so pathetic?” Seriously? The house is on fire and he’s comparing notes? But he had a point. Alex’s little girlfriend was brazen. I felt a pang of guilt. I had put him in this cowardly position. So I leaned in and crushed my mouth against his. “Because this makes it more exciting,” I whispered against his lips. One kiss wasn’t enough, so I gave him another, harder one. “Be good. Think of him as just a prop in our little game.” Sebastian’s eyes brightened, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his swollen lips. “Now that’s more like it.” Finally, the big baby relented, strolling casually into the bathroom. I pulled open the door. Alex stood there, his face as black as thunder. “Where is he? The bastard you’re with.” Alex’s jaw was tight. He scanned the room, then marched to the bathroom and tried the handle. It was locked. “Fine,” he sneered. “You think you can hide in there forever?” “This hotel is owned by one of my friend’s companies. One phone call, and I’ll have the security footage from this entire floor.” “You just wait, Maya. I’m going to see exactly who it is.” Go ahead, I thought. I already checked. This particular spot is a blind spot for the cameras. But sometimes, your best-laid plans are derailed by the one thing you didn’t account for. Alex pulled out his phone to call his friend. And at that exact moment, a phone started ringing from inside the bathroom. Alex looked at me, his eyes filled with suspicion. He hung up his call. The ringing in the bathroom stopped. He dialed again. And again, the cheerful ringtone echoed from behind the bathroom door.

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The moment I snapped into existence in this cliché angsty novel, a holographic “System” notification popped up in my vision. OBJECTIVE: WIN OVER HUSBAND (ETHAN VANCE). I told it, “Sure, got it,” and immediately called Ryan, the 6’2” college freshman from my mom’s book club. So, when my “husband” Ethan finally came home, cradling his injured “white moonlight,” he found me and a guy with glorious abs cuddled on the couch watching a horror movie. “Oh, you’re back?” I said, not moving. “Ryan here has a fever, and his dorm’s on lockdown, so he’s crashing with us.” I pointed with my chin. “His clothes were soaked from the rain, so I let him borrow your silk pajamas. It’s not like you ever come home to wear them anyway.” Ethan’s eyes went bloodshot. He shoved his childhood friend, Chloe, off his arm and pointed a trembling finger at me. Before I could say anything, Ryan looked up from my shoulder, his big, innocent eyes wide. “Claire? Is… is Ethan mad?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse from the “fever.” “But… isn’t his friend staying here, too?” The System shrieked in my head: [HOST, WHAT IS THIS TOP-TIER GREEN TEA MANIPULATOR YOU’VE FOUND?!] I glanced at the “Conquest” progress bar. Ethan’s disgust, which was at 90% when I arrived, had just dropped. I hid a small smile. “He brings his white moonlight home, I host a college kid. Seems fair to me,” I muttered. “After all, who doesn’t have one that got away?” 1 The movie’s cheesy sound effects filled the villa, mixed with Ryan’s clear, confused voice. “Claire, does the plumbing always make that clang noise right before the ghost shows up?” I nodded, distracted. “Yeah. Classic horror trope.” “Oh. Well, next time the pipes in my dorm act up, I’ll just think of you, and I won’t be scared.” He leaned a little heavier against my side, smiling, revealing one small, sharp canine tooth. I stared at the pajamas he was wearing. Ethan’s pajamas. The dark silk was open three buttons down, showing off a truly impressive landscape of muscle. Ryan’s hair was still damp from his shower, his face flushed from the “fever,” and one of his hands was gripping the fabric of my own shirt. He noticed me looking and had the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry, Claire. I’m just… not great with scary movies.” Perfect, I thought. This kid is a natural. Two hours ago, I was in my world, rage-reading this exact novel and texting my group chat about what a spineless idiot the heroine was. Next thing I know, I’m her—Claire, the doormat wife. The System was buzzing. [HOST, WE’RE GOING BIG! COMPLETE THE OBJECTIVE, AND YOU GET TEN MILLION DOLLARS AND A TICKET HOME!] I’d looked at the System panel. ETHAN VANCE: DISGUST LEVEL 90%. Apparently, karma is a bitch. The System was babbling about how I needed to use “self-sacrifice” and “emotional anguish” to make Ethan pity me and finally fall in love. I felt my liver ache just listening to it. So I gave the System a vague “k,” and called Ryan. Within an hour, a “drenched,” “feverish,” and “homeless” Ryan was at my door. Just as the movie hit its jump-scare climax, the front door’t’s electronic lock beeped. CLANG. The sound from the movie and the door opening were simultaneous. I shrieked and dove straight into Ryan’s arms. He, to his credit, wrapped a solid arm around my waist, hissing “What? What?” Then a furious voice cut through the dark. “What the hell are you two doing?!” Ethan was silhouetted in the doorway. And he was, as I predicted, half-carrying a woman in a delicate white dress. Her makeup was perfect, but she wore a pained, brave expression. Chloe. His “one of the guys” childhood best friend, the one that got away. I shoved Ryan off me and crossed my arms. “God, Ethan, you scared the life out of me! Don’t you know how to announce yourself? We’re trying to watch a movie.” Ethan hit the lights. His eyes landed on Ryan, then on the pajamas. His face froze. I took a chip from the bowl Ryan was holding. “Ryan has a fever. Dorms are on lockdown. He’s crashing here.” I repeated my lines. “His clothes were soaked, so I let him borrow your pajamas. You never come home anyway.” I smiled at the woman he was holding. “This must be Chloe, right? You should take her upstairs. Hit the lights on your way out.” 2 Ethan looked like he was going to have an aneurysm. He violently let go of Chloe, who stumbled. “You let another man,” he seethed, “wear my clothes? Claire, have you no shame?” Chloe, having regained her balance, put a worried hand on his arm. “Ethan, don’t be angry. I’m sure Claire has a perfectly good reason.” Her eyes flicked to Ryan. “This must be a relative, right, Claire? Because… if he’s not, this does look a little…” Right on cue, Ryan spoke up, his voice the definition of wounded innocence. “Claire? Is Ethan… mad at me? Is it because I’m wearing his pajamas, or… just because I’m here?” Ethan glared. “It’s my house. What do you think?” Ryan looked down, then back up, his expression a perfect blend of confusion and hurt. It was a “soul-punch” of a look. “Oh. But… didn’t you bring a friend home, too? How come your friend is okay, but Claire’s isn’t?” Chloe immediately jumped in. “That is completely different. Ethan and I grew up together. We’re practically family.” She laughed, a breezy, “cool girl” sound. “I’m not like other girls. I’m just one of the guys.” Ryan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, ‘one of the guys’! That’s so cool. Claire thinks of me as a little brother, right, Claire?” I had been enjoying the show, but it was my turn. “Exactly. Ryan’s my mom’s best friend’s son. He’s basically my annoying little brother.” I smiled sweetly at Chloe. [HOST! HIS GREEN TEA LEVELS ARE OFF THE CHARTS! HE’S THREE TIMES MORE TOXIC THAN THE PLOT ALLOWS! YOU’RE RUINING THE MISSION!] The System was having a meltdown. But a second later, a different alert dinged. [HUSBAND DISGUST LEVEL: -2. PROCEEDING.] The System went silent. I smirked. Silly AI. It doesn’t get male psychology. This isn’t about love. It’s about possession. And Ethan just found out someone else was playing with his toys. 3 Chloe’s face was thunderous. “Ethan,” she huffed, “is this really the woman you married? I told you, you should have let us vet her first. What kind of upbringing…” I tuned her out. “Get him the hell out of here, Claire,” Ethan bit out, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t make me say it again.” Ryan actually flinched, shrinking closer to me. I slammed my water glass on the table. “Stop yelling! Can’t you see you’re scaring him? He’s sick!” Ethan’s hands clenched into fists. “Claire. We are married.” “Oh, I’m aware,” I snapped, suddenly fed up. “Why are you acting like some possessive psycho? I told you, he’s just crashing for one night. Now, go take care of your ‘brother’ Chloe. She looks like she’s about to collapse.” “My…’brother’ Chloe?” she sputtered. I nodded, all concern. “Yeah. You’re injured, right? You’re still standing, though. You’re not… faking it, are you?” Chloe immediately went pale and swayed. “Ethan… I’m… I’m suddenly so dizzy…” Ethan looked from my face to Ryan’s, then back to Chloe, who was doing a convincing impression of a wilting flower. Trapped, he let out an animalistic sigh and scooped her into his arms. “Go to your own room tonight, Claire,” he ordered, marching up the stairs. “And don’t stay up late.” I just waved. Ryan unpaused the movie. In the next thirty minutes, he “jumped” six times, “accidentally” grabbed my hand three times, and “panted” from fear twice… which just so happened to press his rock-solid abs against my arm. “Claire… I’m really scared.” I gave his arm a reassuring pat. Right on the bicep. “Don’t worry, Ryan. I’ll protect you.” I was so focused on the abs, I didn’t even notice the small, knowing smile on his face. 4 The villa was huge. When I got tired, I just picked a guest room. I was woken up by a crash and a yell. [HOST, WAKE UP! THE HUSBAND AND THE GREEN TEA RINGER ARE THROWING DOWN!] Ugh. Can’t a girl get some sleep? I ripped the door open. Ryan was standing right outside my room, in his pajamas. Ethan was at the end of the hall, looking… relieved? My annoyance vanished when I saw Ryan’s pajama buttons were still undone. “What are you two doing?” Ryan was the first to speak, his voice full of hurt. “Ethan thought you were in my room. He just… burst in and started yelling. I told him you were in here, but he wouldn’t believe me. He wanted to see for himself.” I zoomed in on the important part. “He just burst in? Ethan, why are you acting like a lunatic?” I went to Ryan, “checking him” for injuries. He looked fine, just a little bruising on his ego. Ethan exploded. “Are you blind, Claire? I’m the one who’s hurt!” I finally noticed his hand. It was bleeding. Ryan looked down, the picture of guilt. “I’m so sorry, Claire. He just… he came in so fast… I thought he was a burglar…” “Ethan, you have issues!” I snapped. “You break into his room in the middle of the night? You’re lucky that’s all that happened. You scared him!” “I’M THE ONE WHO’S BLEEDING!” he roared. “This is about trust, Ethan! Clearly, you don’t trust me! If there’s no trust, what’s the point? Just go to bed.” I pulled Ryan back into his room, shut the door, and went back to my room, slamming the door. [HUSBAND DISGUST LEVEL: -2. HUSBAND ANGER-AT-RYAN LEVEL: 300%.] “Whatever,” I mumbled into my pillow. “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. Green tea vs. ‘cool girl’ tea. Let them fight.”

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On my 28th birthday, I cooked a feast, but my family only had complaints. My mother criticized the ribs, my father pushed the dish away, and my sister Stella fake-smiled, claiming a stomach ache but suddenly craving mango sticky rice from our childhood Thai place. Without asking, my husband Ethan told me to go buy it for her. I returned an hour later to an empty house. The food was cold, and everyone was gone. A social media post revealed the truth: my parents, sister, husband, and even her dog had left on a spontaneous trip to the snowy Alps. They’d all gone without me. I liked the family photo, put down the dessert, and texted Ethan: “Let’s get a divorce.” 1 After receiving my text, Ethan and the other three, dog in tow, drove through the night to get back. “Anna! Have you lost your mind?!” Ethan slammed his phone down on the coffee table, his voice thick with incredulous rage. “Just because we decided to take a trip for a day, you want a divorce? Can you stop making such a big deal out of nothing?!” I sat on the sofa, watching him with an unnerving calm. He called this making a big deal out of nothing. A small laugh escaped my lips, but it couldn’t mask the sharp, needle-like pain piercing my heart. We had a plan. We were supposed to leave together after my twenty-eighth birthday to finally see the snow-capped mountains of the Swiss Alps. It was a promise we’d made to each other when we were first falling in love. But on my birthday, he had taken everyone and left without a word. My mother yanked me to my feet, her finger jabbing towards my face. “Anna, why are you becoming so thoughtless! Your sister has been under so much stress at work. She finally wanted to get away and relax. We just wanted to leave a little early to beat the holiday traffic. What’s so wrong with that?” “Do you have to throw this whole family into chaos?!” My father’s face was grim, his voice laced with disappointment. “Your sister’s health is fragile. We should take extra care of her. As her younger sister, not only do you lack any empathy, you’re throwing a tantrum. You’re breaking our hearts!” There it was again. Ever since we were children, no matter what happened, I was always the one in the wrong. My sister, Stella, was always the one who needed to be protected, to be understood. She was vibrant and charming, a master of wheedling and winning our parents’ affection. She was the daughter they bragged about. I was quiet and introverted, the perpetual background scenery they barely noticed. Stella walked over, her eyes red-rimmed. She took my hand, her touch as light and fragile as a butterfly’s wing. Her voice was a choked whisper. “Anna, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault…” “I just didn’t want to be stuck in traffic with everyone else. I thought if we left early, our family trip would be more… perfect. I assumed Ethan would have told you…” As she spoke, she cast a timid, wounded glance at Ethan. His brow furrowed instantly, his gaze landing on me like a physical weight. “Look at your sister! She’s only thinking of everyone else. And you?” he accused. “Stella is a travel blogger! Leaving early to get some content is part of her job! If you can’t understand that, fine, but to demand a divorce? You’re pushing her to the edge!” “Exactly, Anna!” my mother chimed in, her voice sharp. “Why can’t you be more like your sister? So considerate, always thinking of others! Look at you, with that cold, stony face all the time. Who could possibly be happy looking at that?” I looked at the family before me and felt a dizzying sense of absurdity. There was a time when Ethan was the only one in this house who saw through the charade. He would hold me tight and whisper, “Anna, they don’t see how wonderful you are, but it’s okay. I see it. From now on, I’ll be the one to protect you.” But now, he had become one of them. His face was just as grotesque as theirs. A dry, humorless laugh escaped my lips, and the corners of my eyes grew damp. “Anna, what are you laughing at?” My laughter seemed to sting him, and he growled, his voice low with humiliation and anger. “I’m laughing at how stupid I was.” I looked directly at him, my voice steady and clear. “To ever believe you would be any different from them.” “You—!” Whatever Ethan was about to say was cut short by a sudden gasp. 2 Stella suddenly clutched her chest, her face draining of all color as she swayed on her feet. “I… I feel so dizzy. My chest hurts… I can’t breathe…” “Stella!” In an instant, the room erupted into chaos. My parents rushed to support her while Ethan anxiously rubbed her back. “Quick! To the hospital! It must be her depression acting up again!” my mother shrieked. They bustled around her, a frantic whirlwind of concern. No one spared me a second glance. As Ethan passed me, he paused, his eyes burning with disgust. “Anna, if anything happens to Stella, I swear to God, you and I are done.” Without looking back, he rushed out the door after them. I was alone in the vast, empty living room. I walked to the window and watched their car speed away, disappearing into the flow of traffic. A faint tremor ran through my heart, and then, a smile spread across my face. I took out my phone and dialed the number for a moving company. “Hello, yes… I need movers now. As soon as possible. The address is…” This apartment was mine. I had made the down payment myself, before I was married. Its prime downtown location made it convenient for everything. Ever since Stella’s divorce, my parents had moved in with her, using the excuse that it was “easier for Stella to get to her doctor’s appointments.” They moved in as if it were their right. They said it was nice for the whole family to be together. But I knew the truth. They simply despised their old house in the suburbs and coveted the comfort and convenience of my place. Stella, especially, made herself at home. My walk-in closet became hers. My vanity was overrun with her expensive collection of lotions and perfumes. She had a sense of entitlement to everything that was mine. At first, I thought it was just my things she wanted. I later realized she wanted my husband, too. She would flit around in front of Ethan wearing my new silk nightgown. When he came home late from work, she’d be the one to greet him with a bowl of homemade soup, cooing at him to take care of himself. Her performance was more convincing, more doting, than that of the actual wife. She even had the audacity to scold me for being thoughtless whenever Ethan and I had a small argument. And Ethan? He soaked it all up. He reveled in the adoration and dependence of another woman, thriving on the thrill of that ambiguous, morally grey line. His indulgence was the fuel for Stella’s audacity. His silent permission was the knife that dealt the most fatal blow to my heart. The moving company was remarkably efficient. In less than two hours, every trace of their existence had been scrubbed clean from my home. When it was all done, I felt the massive stone that had been lodged in my chest for years finally begin to shift. Suddenly, my phone shrieked. It was Ethan. I answered, and his roar assaulted my ear. “Anna, you vicious bitch! Stella was already in a fragile state, and after the scene you caused, she’s on the roof of the hospital, threatening to jump! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!” In the background, I could hear my mother’s wails and my father’s furious curses. Ethan’s voice trembled with rage. “Get to the hospital roof right now and apologize to your sister!” A cold smile touched my lips. The same old trick. Ever since we were kids, whenever Stella didn’t get what she wanted, she would put on a show. Hunger strikes, self-harm, running away from home… and now, she had graduated to threatening suicide. I clicked the livestream link Ethan had sent me. On the screen, Stella sat on the edge of the rooftop, her legs dangling over the side, her long hair whipping wildly in the wind. She was crying for the camera, a perfect, tragic damsel in distress. “I’m just so tired… I don’t know what the point of living is anymore…” “All I wanted was for our family to be happy together. Why is that so hard?” “I know my sister has always felt that our parents favor me… but… they love us both. How could they not love her? It’s my fault. I’m the sick one. I’m the burden on everyone, and it’s made my sister misunderstand me so deeply…” She never once blamed me directly, but every word painted me as the villain. The jealous, ungrateful sister who was destroying the family’s harmony. The comments in the live chat scrolled by in a frenzy. OMG her poor sister! This Anna person is pure evil! That sister is a monster! Don’t you know how to treat a family member with depression? Go apologize to your sister! What if she really jumps?! Public opinion had swung completely to her side. I shut off the livestream, grabbed my car keys, and walked out the door. 3 The moment I stepped onto the hospital roof, Ethan lunged at me, grabbing my arm. “You’re finally here! Quick, go apologize to your sister! Tell her you were wrong, that you’ll never argue with her again!” My mother threw herself at me, sobbing as she clung to my other arm. “Anna, I’m begging you! Just give in this once!” “If your sister is gone, I don’t want to live either!” My father, who had been silent until now, stormed over, his face contorted with fury as he pointed a trembling finger at me. “Look what you’ve done! You have dragged our family’s name through the mud today!” “Is this what you wanted? To push your sister to this, to make a public spectacle of us for everyone to laugh at?!” They were using their own lives, the family’s honor, to exert one final, crushing wave of pressure. When Stella saw me, her crying intensified. She wailed at the camera, her voice thick with despair. “Sister, don’t come any closer… I know you don’t want to see me. It’s my fault, I’m an eyesore to you…” “I’ll go. I’ll go right now, and then you’ll be happy… and I’ll finally be free…” As she spoke, she leaned forward slightly, feigning a lurch towards the edge. The live chat exploded. The evil sister is here! Is she going to push her?! Look at her face! So cold! Not an ounce of guilt! Someone call the police! Arrest this woman! She’s a murderer! I stood in the eye of the storm, letting their accusations and pleas wash over me. I watched them quietly, as if observing a farcical play that had nothing to do with me. My silence made Ethan even more frantic. “Anna! Are you mute?!” he roared, shaking my arm violently. “I told you to apologize!” I pried his fingers off my arm, one by one. I lifted my gaze to meet his. “Apologize? Should I apologize for not receiving a single ‘happy birthday’ yesterday? Or should I apologize for being abandoned and forgotten in an empty house?” The color drained from Ethan’s face. A crimson heat bled into the corners of my eyes, and my voice began to tremble. I fought back the tears and turned to my mother. “Mom, are you really going to threaten me with your life?” “Stella has used that trick since we were kids, and it’s worked every single time. Are you going to start now, too?” My mother was stunned into silence. The desperate grip on my arm slackened. Finally, my eyes settled on Stella. I walked, step by step, to the edge of the roof, stopping a few feet away from her. The wind was strong, whipping my hair and clothes around me. I looked at her and spoke, my voice soft and clear. “Sister, why haven’t you jumped yet?” The words hung in the air. Everyone stared at me in stunned disbelief. The mask of sorrow on Stella’s face shattered. She forgot to cry, forgot her performance. She just stared at me, dumbfounded. Ethan’s eyes were wide with shock, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. I continued, my voice perfectly calm. “You said you were tired of living, didn’t you? You said I was your burden, didn’t you? Just jump. It will be a relief for everyone.” “Look at all the people watching you down there. What a spectacular exit.” “What… what did you say?” Stella’s voice was a terrified whisper. I smiled. “I said, you should just die.”

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1 I’ve been paralyzed for ten years. My daughter, Chloe, has taken care of me for ten years. She works three jobs to pay my medical bills. I’ve seen her collapse from exhaustion more than once. Her husband finally gave her an ultimatum: “If you keep taking care of that woman, we’re done.” Chloe divorced him without a second thought. Her devotion went viral. She was voted “America’s Most Devoted Daughter” in an online poll. The whole country envied me. Then, the wrongful death settlement from my husband’s accident finally came through: eight million dollars. I transferred every penny to my son, Leo—a good-for-nothing burnout who does nothing but party. The entire internet turned on me. “She’s a monster.” “She values that deadbeat son over the daughter who saved her life.” A reporter found me. “You’ve been paralyzed for a decade. Your daughter sacrificed her marriage, her health, and her youth for you. She’s drowning in debt for you. Why would you give that money to him? Why not give her a single dollar?” I looked at the reporter, my voice flat. “Put hidden cameras in my house. Stream it all, live, for three days. You’ll have your answer.” 2 The cameras went live. That evening, Chloe came home, dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted. She came to my bedside to clean me. Seeing the mess I’d made, she showed no disgust. Only guilt. “Mom, did you have an upset stomach last night?” she whispered, gently brushing my gray hair back. “I’m so sorry. I’ve just been so tired from work, I must have slept too deeply. I forgot to check if you were covered. You must have gotten chilled. I’m so sorry, Mom…” I just stared at her. The live chat was already flooding with comments: “My God. She comes home to that, and her first reaction is to apologize?” “I’d be gagging. She’s a literal saint.” “This is why she won the award. I’m actually crying.” Chloe didn’t know about the stream. She just started the long, difficult process of lifting me, trying to get me into the shower chair. She was so tired, her arms were shaking. She couldn’t get the leverage. Just then, Leo, my son, sauntered in from a day out. “Leo!” Chloe called out, straining. “Can you give me a hand? I need to get Mom in the shower.” Leo glanced over, his face twisting in disgust. “Ugh. It stinks like shit in here. I’m not touching her.” Chloe’s brow furrowed. “Leo, Mom just gave you eight million dollars. You can’t just party all day. The least you can do is help me lift her.” He scoffed. “She gave it to me. It’s mine. I can do whatever I want. Are you trying to guilt-trip me?” Chloe sighed. “I respect Mom’s decision. She gave you that money so you could finally settle down, maybe find a nice girl, and build a life. I just… I just wish you wouldn’t disappoint her.” “Disappoint her?” Leo laughed. “Sis, she’s a paralyzed old woman. Why do you even bother? You wipe her ass, you feed her… you’re a mess, and frankly, it’s pathetic to watch.” “She’d be better off dead.” The live chat exploded. “WHAT DID HE JUST SAY???” “He’s a demon. And she gave HIM the money?” “This is the most disgusting family I’ve ever seen. That poor, sweet daughter.” “She’s not just a bad mother, she’s an idiot. She deserves to be paralyzed for enabling that monster!” 3 Leo never helped. It took Chloe over an hour to get me cleaned, changed, and settled into my wheelchair. She was sweating and pale, but she just gently arranged my clothes. “Mom, you must be hungry. I’ll go make dinner.” She almost fainted on the way to the kitchen, grabbing the doorframe to steady herself. She just stood there for a moment, breathing, then pushed on. A little while later, she came back with a tray: steamed fish, roasted chicken, sautéed greens, and a bowl of steaming soup. She placed the tray on my lap table, carefully blew on a spoonful of soup, and held it to my lips. “Mom, I went to the farmer’s market and got a fresh organic chicken for this. It’s your favorite. Please try.” I turned my head. “Don’t want it.” Her eyes filled with worry. “Mom, you need to eat something. Your stomach is already upset. You’ll get sick.” I looked past her, my voice cold. “I’m not hungry.” Then, I looked at Leo, who was lounging on the sofa playing a video game. My voice softened. “Leo, honey. Could you bring me a piece of that cake from the counter?” Leo didn’t even look up. “That’s mine. If you want some, get it yourself.” Chloe shot him a glare, then turned back to me, forcing a smile. “Mom, please, eat your dinner first. After dinner, I’ll go buy you your own cake, okay? A fresh one.” I just shook my head, stubborn. The chat was a waterfall of rage. “This old woman is pure evil. She refuses her daughter’s food but begs her asshole son for scraps?” “I thought she was just blind, but she’s actively cruel.” “That daughter needs to RUN. Today.” “This is the most toxic thing I’ve ever watched. I can’t look away.” 4 The first day’s stream ended. I was the most hated woman in America. The next day, Chloe came home a little early. In her hand was a small, pink bakery box. “Mom! Look what I got you.” She opened it. A slice of strawberry cheesecake. “You wanted cake yesterday, so I left work early to go to your favorite bakery. Please, try it.” She held it out to me, her eyes shining with hope. I glanced at it. “I don’t want it anymore.” The light in her eyes died. It was a physical thing. But she recovered. “Okay. That’s okay. What… what can I make you for dinner, then?” I looked at her, my voice like ice. “Nothing you make.” I turned my wheelchair to head to the patio. Just as I cleared the doorway, Leo burst out of his room, phone in hand. We collided. His phone flew out of his hand and clattered to the tile floor. “GODDAMMIT!” he roared. “That was a ranked match, you old bitch! You made me lose!” He retrieved his phone and, in a blind rage, kicked my wheelchair. Hard. The chair spun and tipped. “MOM!” Chloe screamed and dove. She threw her body between me and the floor, her arm taking the full, crushing weight of the chair and me. She let out a strangled cry. When she pushed the chair upright, there was a gash on her forearm so deep I could see the white of the bone. Blood was pouring out. She ignored it. “LEO!” she shrieked, her voice shaking with a fury I’d never heard. “You could have killed her!” Leo just rolled his eyes. “She’s paralyzed. It’s not like she can feel it. God, you two are so dramatic.” He stomped back into his room and slammed the door. Chloe was breathing hard, her whole body shaking. She checked me from head to toe, asking “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” Only after she was sure I was fine did she even look at her own arm. She just grabbed a dish towel and wrapped it, tight. Then she saw the wheel on my chair was bent. She got the toolbox and, with her one good hand, blood seeping through the towel, she began to fix it. She worked late into the night. The live chat was beyond fury. It was a collective breakdown. “She is bleeding out. SHE IS BLEEDING OUT and she is fixing a goddamn WHEELCHAIR.” “This isn’t devotion. This is a sickness. That mother is a parasite.” “I’m calling 911. This is caregiver abuse. But the daughter is the victim!” “That son needs to be in jail. The mother needs to be in a ditch.” The reporter called me, his voice shaking. “Do you have any idea what’s happening? They’re calling you a monster. A demon. This is destroying your daughter! What are you doing?!” I looked at Chloe, who was asleep in a chair, her head on the kitchen table, her bandaged arm resting near her. “One more day,” I said. “Tomorrow, you’ll have your story.”

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