Category: English

1 The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, my husband, Dorian, invited me to go on a reality show about divorce. I knew he’d lost another bet to his little secretary. They’d made ninety-nine bets in total, and every single time, he’d thrown the game, letting her win. He lost the home we’d decorated together. He lost our wedding. He even lost the child we had created. Dorian let Stella perform the procedure herself, just to satisfy her morbid curiosity about the human body. When our seven-month-old baby was taken from me, I hemorrhaged and nearly died on the operating table. Now, he handed me the TV contract. “Aria, I lost another bet. It’s just a reality show, a way to appease Stella.” “Besides,” he added, “it’ll be good for your profile. Help you get acting work again.” He’d forgotten. The last time he lost a bet to Stella, he signed me up for a ten-picture deal for a series of erotic thrillers. “I won’t let a single frame of you get out,” he’d promised. The next day, a clip of me, completely naked, went viral. I was blacklisted by the entire industry. No director would touch me. I calmly took the contract and signed it. Dorian, satisfied, kissed my forehead. “Remember to choose ‘stay together’ in the final questionnaire. We’ll get off at the final stop together.” He didn’t know. We were never going to make it to the end of the line. … After I put the contract away, the phone rang. It was the funeral home. Dorian, who had been scrolling on his phone, glanced up when he heard the muffled, official tone of the voice on the other end. “Who died?” I hung up and gave him a vague answer. “A distant relative.” “Oh,” he said, and went back to his phone, walking out the door without a backward glance. As always, he forgot to wait for me. I didn’t let it bother me. I followed him out. But as I reached for the car door, he stopped my hand. He gestured to the car behind his. “Aria, you should drive yourself to the studio. I have to drop off some breakfast for Stella.” For a second, I was stunned. Then I quickly pulled my hand back. “Okay,” I said softly. He seemed surprised I wasn’t putting up a fight. For the first time in a long time, he gave me a gentle smile. “Make sure you eat something. You’re too thin.” My eyes fell on the back seat of his car. There were at least ten different kinds of breakfast foods, all still steaming. He must have gotten up early to buy them all himself. I looked away, remembering the time my stomach condition had flared up and I’d begged him to get me a warm glass of soy milk. He’d shot me an icy glare and handed me a carton of milk from the fridge. “I don’t have time. Just drink this.” Then he’d rushed out the door. He’d forgotten I was allergic to milk; the carton in the fridge was for him. He was never home anymore. It had expired weeks ago. By the time I snapped back to reality, his car was already gone. When I arrived at the studio, everyone stared at me. I ignored them and waited quietly. The other celebrity guests had already finished their pre-interviews, but Dorian was still nowhere to be seen. The director urged me to call him. I took out my phone, only to realize he’d blocked my number. The time before last, the prize for Stella’s winning bet was that he had to delete me from all his contacts. I put my phone away and offered the director an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t have his number.” The crew started whispering. “I bet she signed up on her own. The great Dorian Chase probably doesn’t even want to be here with her.” “After she made all those trashy films behind his back, sleeping with who knows how many men… he’s a saint for not divorcing her. How does she even have the nerve to show up on a divorce show?” The director was a friend of Dorian’s; he knew the truth. But he just blinked, and said nothing. I waited until nightfall. The other guests had all gone back to their hotels, but I remained in the cold, empty studio. An icy draft snaked through the window, and I couldn’t stop the coughs that rattled my chest. I wiped a smear of blood from my palm just as someone walked in. He heard me coughing and draped his jacket over my shoulders. “Sorry I’m late. Something urgent came up at the office.” I could smell the cloying scent of tuberose on his coat. Stella loved to bathe in tuberose water, so Dorian had built her a ten-acre tuberose greenhouse. Flowers that should have bloomed in spring now flourished in the dead of winter. I saw the faint red rash on his neck and discreetly looked away. Dorian was allergic to pollen. The worst time, he’d gone into anaphylactic shock right in front of me. I had cried, I had begged him to stop risking his health for Stella. All I got in return was a cold stare and a sharp, “Stay out of it.” I clutched the bloody tissue in my hand and shrugged off his jacket. I hated that smell. He knew that. My mother had died under the tuberose tree where my father had first courted her, on the day she caught him cheating. When we were young and in love, Dorian would always meticulously instruct the florist: no tuberose. He had sworn to me that he would never betray me. But flowers wilt. And hearts are fickle. The boy who had once loved me had found a girl he loved more. The crew called us for our one-on-one interviews. Dorian was still glued to his phone, a doting smile on his face. Everyone knew better than to disturb him. So I answered the director’s pointed questions alone, a one-woman show. It wasn’t hard. It was just acting. I treated it as my final performance. For the last segment, the director handed us each a slip of paper and asked the final question: “Do you still want a divorce?” Dorian finally looked up from his phone. By the time he took the slip, I had already dropped mine into the box. He followed suit, then joked with the director, “What’s with all the mystery? We have to wait until the last day of filming to open these?” He looked at me, his voice full of confidence. “We’re not getting a divorce.” He stood up and started to drag my suitcase toward the hotel. But just as we reached the entrance, his phone rang. A smile immediately spread across his face, and he stepped aside to take the call. I struggled to haul the heavy suitcase up the steps by myself. When he came back, I instinctively handed him his pajamas. He just shook his head. “Lost another bet to Stella,” he said with a light laugh. “She says we can’t sleep in the same bed for the next seven days.” My hand froze in mid-air. The old me would have started a screaming match. But now, I barely had the strength to breathe. I had no energy left for fighting. I pulled my hand back and lay down on the bed. “Do what you want. I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.” Dorian’s attention was already back on his phone. He didn’t even hear me. The next morning, there was a pink hair tie on his wrist. A lipstick stain on his collar confirmed he had left in the middle of the night. He unconsciously toyed with the hair tie, and I couldn’t help but remember a few years ago, when it was trendy to have your boyfriend wear your hair tie. I’d slipped mine onto Dorian’s wrist. He’d pulled it off and thrown it in the trash right in front of me. “You’re almost thirty,” he’d scoffed, not even trying to hide his disgust. “Stop playing these childish games.” I stared at the hair tie. I could just make out a tiny, embroidered ‘S’. It was a glaring reminder. He didn’t remember that Stella was a year older than me. But for her, he was more than happy to play childish games. “I got breakfast. Let’s eat.” It was the first time in our entire marriage that Dorian had ever bought me breakfast, even if it was just an excuse to cover for his nightly absence. Bringing Stella breakfast, however, had long been his routine. He handed me a glass of milk. I had told him so many times. He never remembered that I couldn’t drink it. But a single, offhand comment from Stella about her preferences was meticulously recorded in the notes on his phone. I’d seen it once by accident: a long, detailed list. I reached for a soup dumpling, but he slapped my hand away. A dark red mark instantly appeared on my skin. He pushed a bowl of congee towards me. “This is for you.” I suddenly remembered a post I’d seen on Stella’s social media earlier. Ugh, I’m craving hot, steamy soup dumplings so bad, the caption read, followed by a crying emoji. It all made sense. “We have an outdoor shoot today,” I reminded him. But he had already picked up the insulated food container and was walking out the door. Snow had started to fall outside. I laughed a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. When it came to Stella, nothing stood in his way. Not wind, not rain, not snow. I remembered when I was on location for a film and got caught in a landslide. I called him in a panic. He’d just called me dramatic and hung up. The disaster relief supplies he sent for me ended up in the wrong province. I almost died in that landslide. He was at an amusement park with Stella. The difference between love and not-love was so stark. And I only saw it clearly when I was on the verge of death. I forced the congee into my mouth. It was already cold. The soup dumplings, however, were still steaming. He must have held them close to his chest to keep them warm. I knew this because I, too, had once stood in the falling snow, clutching a container of warm soup dumplings, waiting for him outside his dorm. He was loving someone else in the exact same way I had once loved him. It made my devotion feel pathetic and absurd. The director informed me that Dorian would be absent from filming for the next four days. I was to continue with the other three couples. For four days, I was a ghost, a silent figure captured on camera. No one wanted to talk to the infamous porn star. And every day, Stella’s social media was a whirlwind of activity. Dorian took her skiing in the Arctic Circle. They went on vacation to Bali. They went to see the Northern Lights in a Christmas village. The pain in my body made it hard to think, but after a while, it dawned on me. The places they were going… it was the honeymoon itinerary Dorian and I had planned together, so long ago. My finger hovered over the screen. A drop of blood from my nose fell onto their picture together under the aurora, then another, and another. I fumbled for a tissue, and in my haste to wipe it away, I accidentally ‘liked’ the photo. A moment later, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. It was him. His voice was tense. “Aria, it’s Stella’s birthday. That’s why I took her on this trip.” I wiped away the last of the blood. “It’s fine,” I croaked. His voice softened. “Aria, after this show is over, my hundred bets with Stella will be finished.” “When I get back, I’ll make it up to you. We’ll celebrate our anniversary properly.” Just then, I heard a girl’s voice in the background. “Dorian, hurry! The fireworks are about to start!” He hung up abruptly. A calendar notification popped up on my screen. Tomorrow was the tenth anniversary of the day we got together. And I only had a few days left. My time with Dorian had taken up nearly half my life. The next day, for the first time in forever, Dorian didn’t break his promise. He showed up on set, on time. I wore the pale yellow dress I’d worn on our first date, but I had taken off the wedding ring I had worn for so long. It hadn’t fit for a while, but I could never bring myself to remove it. Until now. When I stepped out of my room, Dorian stared at me for a long time, then smiled and came to take my hand. “Aria, you’re too thin. You need to eat more.” Just like when we were young, when he would place the few pieces of meat from his bowl into mine and gently stroke my hair. “Eat up, Aria.” For a moment, I was moved. Then, Stella’s voice cut through the air. “Aria, you’re a celebrity for goodness sake. What are you wearing? You’re embarrassing Dorian.” She looked me up and down and snorted. Dorian just playfully tapped her on the forehead. “Stella’s joining us for the jungle expedition today,” he announced. Stella lifted her chin proudly. “What expedition? I’m your producer and director now! You’d better be on your best behavior, or I’ll make sure the cameraman gets all your worst angles.” Dorian just laughed and agreed to everything. When we got in the car, Stella slid into the driver’s seat. She shot me a provocative smile. “Sorry, Aria. I get carsick. You’ll have to sit in the back.” I said nothing and climbed in. They chattered on about their trip, and I closed my eyes, trying to rest. But I could see him glancing at me in the rearview mirror, again and again. Stella noticed. Suddenly, she cried out, “Ouch!” Dorian slammed on the brakes. “Stella, what’s wrong?” “My stomach!” she gasped, clutching her abdomen. “It hurts so much!” He turned to me. “Get out of the car. I’m taking Stella to the hospital.” I looked out at the snow-covered wilderness. Dorian had followed Stella’s directions and turned onto a different road. The rest of the crew was no longer behind us. “Take me back with you.” “We can’t do that!” Stella cried. “We can’t let Aria miss the shoot because of me!” She grimaced, her face contorted in pain. Dorian, seemingly lost to reason, dragged me out of the car. “The crew will be here any minute. You wait here. Stella’s not strong. She can’t handle this cold.” As the car sped away, I could barely stand. The snow fell harder and harder. I waited for three hours. The pile of bloody tissues next to me grew. I was on the verge of collapsing from hypothermia when a familiar figure came running towards me. “Aria!” I woke up in the production’s medical van. Stella was muttering beside me. “I’m so stupid, I can’t believe I gave you the wrong directions. Aria won’t be mad at me, will she?” Dorian held her close. “Of course not,” he cooed. The doctor standing nearby looked like she wanted to say something, but I shook my head at her. After only an hour’s rest, the director told us to resume filming. This time, the crew drove us directly into the jungle. Stella insisted on coming along. The snow was ankle-deep. I instinctively looked at Dorian. He used to carry me on his back when it snowed, so my shoes wouldn’t get wet. Now, without a moment’s hesitation, he lifted Stella onto his back. After a while, he realized I’d fallen behind. He saw my pale face and stammered, “Stella… she’s not feeling well.” I didn’t answer. I just trudged forward. We walked in silence. As we neared our destination, Stella announced she wanted to build a fire. Dorian carefully set her down and went to gather firewood. Stella glanced at the cameraman behind her, then leaned in close to me. “Aria, did Dorian tell you he wouldn’t divorce you?” “He was lying. On every single slip of paper, he wrote ‘divorce’.” “Do you know why?” she whispered, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. She stroked her flat stomach. “Because I’m pregnant with his child. He wants the whole world to witness your divorce, so he can marry me in a lavish ceremony.” For some reason, my heart, which had been numb for so long, started to pound. She continued, her voice a cruel hiss. “He never cared about that bastard in your belly. Otherwise, why would he have let you get rid of it? Tsk, tsk, you should have seen it. It was all purple when it came out…” A mouthful of blood erupted from my lips. Before anyone could react, I lunged at her, my hands closing around her throat. “You bitch! You took my baby from me! Give me back my baby!” In the struggle, a hand cracked across my face, and I was thrown backward. “Dorian, help me!” Stella screamed. “Aria’s trying to kill me! Oh god, I’m bleeding! Are we going to lose the baby?” I tumbled down the steep slope. When I looked up, Dorian was standing over me, his face a mask of fury. “Aria, if anything happens to Stella or this child, I will never forgive you.” He lifted Stella into his arms and turned to leave. “Let her stay down there and think about what she’s done,” he commanded. “No one is allowed to help her up.” The director hesitated. “Dorian, it’s freezing. There are wolves in these woods…” “She had the guts to attack a pregnant woman,” Dorian cut him off coldly. “You think she’s afraid of a few wolves? Pull your crew out now. Anyone who tries to help her, I’ll pull all funding.” A wave of metallic sweetness filled my mouth, and I coughed up more blood. “Dorian,” I called out to the furious man. He paused for a second, but he didn’t turn back. He didn’t hear my final whisper. “Happy tenth anniversary, Dorian.” The snow began to cover me. It was good. I wouldn’t feel pain anymore… The next morning, Dorian drove alone to the final destination of the reality show’s journey. There, the final result would be broadcast live to the entire nation. If both parties got out of their cars, it meant they were choosing to stay together. As a hearse passed him on the road, a sense of unease crept into his heart. He had told his assistant to bring me back last night, but I was nowhere to be seen when he woke up. He just assumed I had left early. He waited at the final stop for a long time. When a car finally pulled up, he rushed forward, his face full of joy. But when he saw who got out, he froze. At the same time, his assistant ran towards him, his face pale with panic. “Sir, something’s happened!” And on the car radio, a pre-recorded message began to play. A woman’s voice, soft and gentle. “To my dearest fans, by the time you hear this, I will have already left this world…”

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Four years after I died, my grandmother rummaged through my old things, found my dead cell phone, and somehow managed to call Julian. “Sarah, it’s been four whole years, and you finally remember to call me?” Julian’s voice was dripping with venom. “What? Did your sugar daddy run out of money? If you’re broke, go sell yourself on the street. Don’t come crying to me.” He didn’t stop there. “Let me make this clear. I don’t want to see you for a single second. I’d rather be dead.” On this end of the line, Grandma froze. Her hunched back looked incredibly lonely in the empty living room. She held the phone with trembling hands and asked carefully, “Julian? Did you and Sarah have a fight? I… I can’t find Sarah.” After she spoke, her cloudy eyes stared blankly into the empty room. Then, as if a memory briefly flickered, she murmured to herself, “Oh, that’s right. Sarah died. She’s gone. How did I forget again…” Chapter 1 maybe it was because I couldn’t let go of Grandma, but after I died, my soul stayed by her side. Unfortunately, Grandma had Alzheimer’s. She often forgot that I was dead. Today, she had another episode. She wandered out to the park alone and forgot the way home. The stubborn little old lady sat on a bench, muttering to herself, “It doesn’t matter if I’m lost. When Sarah sees I’m not home, she’ll definitely come find me.” My ghost was hovering right next to her. She wasn’t even far from our apartment, but because she couldn’t hear me, I couldn’t guide her. As the sun began to set, I started panicking, floating around frantically. She was nearly eighty; if she spent the night in the park, she wouldn’t make it. Luckily, Grandma seemed to realize this too. Seeing the park empty out, she finally stood up. She grabbed the first person she saw. “Have you seen my granddaughter, Sarah?” I knew the drill. Usually, people would chat with her, realize she was confused, and call the police. Once the cops came, she’d be safe. Unfortunately, she grabbed the wrong person. She grabbed Julian. Julian looked down at Grandma, his tone laced with impatience. “Where is Sarah? Why are you out here alone? It’s late. If she’s leaving an old woman alone in a park, she’s probably out with…” Chapter 2 He didn’t finish the sentence, probably out of respect for Grandma. But I knew what he wanted to say. She’s probably out sleeping with some random guy. See? Even though I’d been dead for four years, this man’s hatred for me hadn’t faded a bit. Grandma didn’t catch his drift. Seeing Julian made her face light up. “Julian! You haven’t come over for dinner in ages. You love my pot roast, don’t you? Tomorrow is your birthday. Come over. I’ll make it for you.” She patted his arm. “You young people need to work through things. Sarah is a good girl, she just bottles things up. When she left today, she said she was going to buy you a birthday gift. She wants to surprise you tomorrow.” My heart ached. Grandma’s memory was stuck on that day. Four years ago. Back when we were still in love. Back when we were inseparable, before she showed up. Julian sneered. “Grandma, this isn’t funny. Sarah and I broke up. If she’s buying a gift, it’s probably for some other guy.” Grandma froze. “Broke up? But… Sarah never told me. Julian, don’t be mad. When Sarah comes back, I’ll scold her!” The little old lady looked so fiercely protective. I wanted to hug her, to tell her not to be angry, but my arms passed right through her body. Four years, and I still wasn’t used to being a ghost. Chapter 3 Julian laughed, a cold, harsh sound. He clearly didn’t believe a word she said. “I told you, we are done. If this is some trick Sarah told you to play, I’ll let it slide this once. But please, do not mention her name in front of me again.” Just then, two neighborhood ladies walked by and spotted Grandma. “Mrs. Miller! Why are you still out here? Did you forget where you live again?” one asked. Then she whispered loudly to her friend, “Poor thing. It’s just her and her granddaughter, and then the granddaughter died four years ago. She’s all alone.” Right. I died four years ago. I remembered that birthday. I had gone to the mall, bursting with excitement to buy his gift, only to see him walking arm-in-arm with another woman. I walked out in a daze. Then, my phone buzzed. A DM from a stranger. It was a selfie. A girl wearing a men’s white dress shirt, lying on messy hotel sheets. The caption read: They say high school sweethearts are hard to beat, but what about a childhood friend? I recognized the shirt. I had sewn the top button on myself. I had even stitched a tiny, unique flower pattern on the cuff—something I learned from YouTube. Julian wore it to every major meeting. He called it our love token. And now, it was on her. That was the moment I learned how cheap love could be. Chapter 4 Hearing the neighbors, Julian went rigid. Disbelief washed over his face. “What did you say? Sarah is dead?” He grabbed the woman’s arm. “You’re lying, right? Sarah paid you to say that. That woman is an expert liar.” The neighbors looked at him like he was insane. “Who is this guy? Is he crazy? Who jokes about death? That’s bad luck.” Grandma seemed to drift back to reality. Her lips trembled. “That’s right… Sarah… Sarah isn’t here anymore…” Julian stood there, frozen, looking ridiculous. My spirit followed Grandma and the neighbors back home. I was relieved Julian didn’t follow us immediately. Back in the apartment, Grandma sat on the sofa, stroking a framed photo of me, wiping away tears. “Oh, Sarah. You were so young. Why did you have to go before me?” I tried to wipe her tears, but I couldn’t. I could only cry with her. “Grandma, I didn’t leave. I’m right here.” But she couldn’t hear me. Then, the doorbell rang. “Grandma, open up. It’s me, Julian.” I panicked. No. He couldn’t come in. If he saw my things… Chapter 5 Grandma was slow to react. She turned her head toward the door. Outside, Julian shouted, “Grandma, let me in! I thought about it—Sarah can’t be dead. She’s just trying to trick me into coming over. Well, I’m here! Stop pretending! Open the door!” He started pounding on the door. I was furious. He was going to scare her. The old Julian would never have done this; he used to speak softly to her. Now, he was practically breaking the door down. I rushed to the door, swinging my ghostly fists at him, screaming, “Yes! I lied! I tricked you! Now leave! Get out!” But my fists passed through him. I cried in frustration. Inside, a loud crash made me rush back. Grandma was fine. She had just dropped the picture frame. She picked it up, wiping the glass. “It got dirty. Sarah loves this photo. Thank goodness it didn’t break.” It was the photo Julian took of me. I wanted to tell her: I don’t like that one anymore, Grandma. I like the one of us together.

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At my wife’s birthday party, her date for the evening pinched his nose and declared that I stank. She just laughed, ordering her security to strip me and throw me in the pool. “Why don’t you wash off that reek of poverty and filth,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “You can get out when it’s gone.” My dogs, the pack I’d raised myself, surged forward, trying to drive off the men holding me under. But my wife simply ordered the staff to beat them all to death. They had no idea. They thought they were just dogs. They didn’t know I could command beasts. Amid the jeering laughter, I lifted the lifeless body of my youngest pup into my arms and raised the ivory whistle to my lips. “Today,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise, “not a single one of you is leaving this place.” 01 The moment the words left my mouth, the garden erupted in howls of laughter. “Did the water go to his brain? Blowing a whistle? Does he think he’s some kind of hero? He’s going to break a tooth talking like that.” “Ooh, such big words. I guess we didn’t wash him clean enough.” “Here, let’s give him another rinse.” With that, they grabbed my head and shoved it back under the chlorinated water. Clarissa watched from the patio, a serene smile on her face, making no move to stop them. Of course she didn’t. This was all her command. But this time, the hands that had been impossible to break free from felt like paper. I threw them off with ease. Seeing me resist ignited Clarissa’s fury. She stormed over, not caring about the water soaking her designer dress, and grabbed me by the collar. “Cole, you dare fight back?” she seethed. “You’re a charity case from the mountains. If it weren’t for the Sinclair family, you’d still be running with wild dogs.” “Listen to me, Cole. If you want to keep living under our roof, you will get in that pool and wash the stench off you. The Sinclairs do not shelter trash.” I brushed her hand away. “Clarissa,” I asked, a humorless laugh in my voice, “what on earth makes you think I need the Sinclair family?” Her face flushed crimson. Ever since the Sinclair Corporation had started its meteoric rise three years ago, no one had dared to speak to her like that, least of all the man she despised most. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “Who the hell do you think you are, Cole? You and your filthy mutts—every cent spent on you came from us!” “Don’t you dare play the saint with me.” I flicked a few drops of water from my shirt. “You’ve got that wrong,” I said calmly. “I’ve never used a single cent of Sinclair money. In fact, the question is, how much have the Sinclairs enjoyed spending mine?” It was the truth. Three years ago, the Sinclair Corporation was on the brink of collapse. Her father, Arthur Sinclair, had come to me, bearing my family’s token. My grandfather had told me before he died that if anyone ever came with that token, I was to help them, as long as it wasn’t for some wicked purpose. So I left the mountains with my pack and, as he wished, I married Clarissa. With my skills and connections, I opened doors for the Sinclair Corporation that had been sealed shut for decades. I made them the undisputed titans of Apex City. My words silenced the party. Every eye turned to Clarissa. She was trembling with rage. Her hand flew up to strike me. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! The Sinclair name has stood for a century! What are you that you dare say such things?” Cradling the small, still body in my arms, I couldn’t dodge in time. The slap was hard and clean. The taste of blood filled my mouth. That slap brought the rage simmering beneath the surface to a full boil. I looked at her, my voice cold. “Miss Sinclair, aren’t you afraid of what your father will say when he finds out about this?” Clarissa just waved a dismissive hand. “My father’s gone senile. That’s the only reason he fell for your tricks. Today, I’m going to make him see that a person like you will never be worthy of me.” I didn’t know if this was her idea or her father’s, but I was done talking. I turned to leave with my fallen companion. “Wait!” It was Lance’s voice. “Mr. Miller. It wouldn’t be right for you to just walk off with Sinclair property, would it?” I turned back to face him. “I’ve told you. Nothing I have belongs to the Sinclairs.” Lance’s lips curled into a smug, provocative smile as he pointed at the small body in my arms. “This dog ate Sinclair food, drank Sinclair water. That makes it a Sinclair dog, even in death. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Miller?” 02 The insinuation was clear to everyone. The tense atmosphere shattered. “Hahaha, Mr. Knight is right! The most important thing in life is gratitude. For example, if something isn’t yours, it’s not yours even when it’s dead.” “That dog looks like it was well-fed. I wonder how it tastes?” “Easy enough to find out! You think Clarissa would say no if Lance asked?” “Of course not. Everyone knows she’d do anything for him.” The mockery grew louder. Lance wrapped an arm around Clarissa, his expression one of pure arrogance. I hugged the cold body in my arms tighter, my gaze locking on Clarissa. “Is that what you think, Clarissa? Do you agree with him?” She smiled and gave a firm, deliberate nod. “Lance is right. It ate my food, drank my water. Even dead, it’s my dog.” She looked me up and down, then sneered. “As for you—you can crawl back to whatever mountain ditch you came from.” I hadn’t expected that. She knew how much my dogs meant to me. They had been my constant companions since I left the mountains. Even her own father treated them with kindness. I had always told myself that this arranged marriage wasn’t what she wanted, that a man should be patient with his wife’s moods. When she mocked me for smelling like the animals I spent my time with, I endured it for her father’s sake. But my tolerance had only earned me deeper humiliation, culminating in the brutal murder of the animals I’d raised since they were pups. In that moment, I decided I was done enduring. Lance, seeing my silence, grew impatient and reached out to snatch the body from my arms. I sidestepped him easily. “And what if I say no?” I said, my voice calm. “If you want to take what’s mine, you’re not worthy. None of you are.” Clarissa seemed stunned by my defiance. Then, her shock turned to rage. “Cole! Today, I will teach you whose name is on the deed to this house!” Did she really think I didn’t know? On paper, the company was still Sinclair. In reality, every major deal, every new venture, was mine. With a single word, I could have the name changed. But Clarissa, despite her dislike for me, had always maintained a certain decorum in public. She’d never humiliated me like this before. First, she lets her boy-toy provoke me, then she has my dog killed. Either this was her father’s doing, or she had found a new patron powerful enough to defy him. Either way, my patience had finally run out. Clarissa clung to Lance’s arm. “Guards! Take the dog back. And strip him. I don’t want him leaving with a single thing that belongs to this family.” My eyes were ice. “Clarissa, don’t forget what your father told you.” At the mention of her father, the approaching servants hesitated. Arthur Sinclair had stepped back from daily operations, but his authority was still absolute. They were caught in the middle. Seeing them falter, Clarissa shrieked, her voice echoing across the garden. “Cole, you dare threaten me with my own father?! Do it!” 03 The other dogs in my pack, injured but alive, struggled to their feet. They formed a protective circle around me, their eyes fixed on the approaching men. The servants backed away. They knew how formidable these animals were. A team of mercenaries who once tried to break in and kidnap Clarissa had been torn apart by this very pack. I knelt and gently stroked their heads. “Don’t be afraid,” I whispered. “I will make them pay.” My voice was soft, but those nearby heard it and laughed again. “Did you hear that? He’s telling the dogs he’ll make us pay.” “He really does think he’s one of them.” Clarissa covered her nose in disgust as I touched the animals. “Disgusting. Just like their master. We’ll kill them all today and have a feast.” I fought to control my fury. “You want to eat them?” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “You must be dreaming.” Lance stepped forward. “Cole, you live off the Sinclairs’ charity, and you have the audacity to talk back to Clarissa.” “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell them not to resist. We’ll make it quick for them. And don’t worry, after we make stew, we’ll be sure to save you the bones.” The crowd of rich heirs roared with laughter. They had been subtly isolating me all night, and now, with Lance’s arrival, their sycophancy had reached a fever pitch. “Let me be blunt,” I said, my gaze sweeping across their smug faces before landing back on Clarissa. “You are not qualified to force me to do anything. It’s not that I look down on you… it’s that even if your fathers were standing here, they wouldn’t be qualified either.” “Especially you, Clarissa.” “I finally understand why your father refuses to hand the company over to you. He’s known all along that you’re an incompetent fool.” The words struck a nerve. Her face contorted with rage. “What do you think you are, Cole?” she screamed. “You’re nothing but a dog my grandfather raised for me!” “And let me tell you something. Lance is the heir to a reclusive dynasty. With his help, the Sinclair Corporation will be mine!” I looked at Lance, who puffed out his chest at the mention of his status, and almost laughed. A reclusive dynasty named Knight? I wondered what the old masters would say if they heard that. My silence was misinterpreted as fear. Lance wrapped an arm around Clarissa and kissed her deeply. When they broke apart, he shot me a contemptuous look. “Only a man of my station is worthy of Clarissa. As for you—” His eyes raked over me. “—get as far away from here as you can.” The other heirs immediately began to chime in. “Mr. Knight is the heir to a reclusive dynasty? No wonder he captured Miss Sinclair’s heart!” “They’re a perfect match! A match made in heaven!” The flattery went to their heads. Clarissa dropped all pretense. “Cole,” she said, her voice cold and final. “I want a divorce.” 04 Now I was sure. Her father knew nothing about this. If he had any idea who Lance claimed to be, he would never agree to a divorce. Since Clarissa had decided to grind my dignity into the dirt, I no longer felt any need to honor the kindness her father had shown me. I clapped slowly. “Finally. You’ve revealed your true purpose.” “The public humiliation, the murder of my dog… all of it was just a prelude to asking for a divorce, wasn’t it?” “I just don’t understand. Why go to all this trouble?” Clarissa sensed the fury beneath my calm exterior. She clung to Lance’s arm and sneered. “Because Lance hates you, of course. We had to do something to make you give up for good.” I was genuinely shocked. What had I ever done to make her think I was so desperate to hold on to her that she needed to resort to this? I laughed out loud. “Clarissa, have I ever once told you that I love you? Who gave you the ridiculous idea that I would cling to you like some pathetic stray?” Yes, I had tolerated her foolishness. But that didn’t mean she could parade her lover in front of me and expect me to take it. Her face darkened. Lance, however, couldn’t resist jumping in. “Don’t try to save face. There’s no shame in loving Clarissa. The only shame is being loved by someone like you.” He kicked one of the bodyguards standing nearby. “What are you waiting for? Get the dogs and throw him back in the pool.” These were not the household servants from before. These were professional security, armed and ready. At Lance’s command, they charged. The dogs around me crouched low, a deep, menacing growl rumbling in their chests. I raised the ivory whistle to my lips. As the sound pierced the air, the dogs moved with an almost human intelligence, dodging and weaving through the guards’ attacks. Until the guards were gasping for breath, and still hadn’t managed to touch a single one.

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The indie actress I’d followed for three years, so obscure she barely had a fandom, finally called it quits. As one of her few die-hard fans, I got a private message from her, Ava Jane. “I found my family. I know things are going to get better now.” I sent her my best wishes, then booked a flight to Europe to nurse my own melancholy. That’s when the call came. I wasn’t who I thought I was. I was the switched-at-birth daughter, the imposter in a life that was never meant for me. My mother’s voice was a soothing balm over the phone. “Darling, you will always be our most precious baby.” My brother called from overseas. “You’re the only sister I’ll ever have. No one is taking anything from you.” My friends kept me updated with a running commentary via a live feed from back home. The real heiress, they said, was being brutally ostracized by our elite circle, a social pariah in her own home. Then, at four in the morning, another private message buzzed on my phone. [Even though we’ve never met, you might be the only friend I have left in this world. I’m so tired. Why does it still hurt so much, even after finding my family? Goodbye. I wish you all the best.] The words jolted me awake. 1 My eyes shot open. I ripped off my sleep mask and sat bolt upright in bed. Something was terribly, terribly wrong with her tone. My hands trembled as I typed, my fingers flying across the keyboard in a panic. [Honey, no, please don’t! What’s wrong? Don’t do anything stupid!!!!] She must have been shocked to get an instant reply at four in the morning. The silence stretched for a full thirty seconds. Finally, a message from Ava appeared. [Why are you still awake?] A wave of relief washed over me—she was still responding. But it was followed by a fresh surge of fear. [I’m overseas, there’s a bit of a time difference.] [Never mind that. What happened? Can you talk to me? You said it yourself, we’re friends.] This time, the silence was longer. So long that I couldn’t sit still. I jumped out of bed, my bare feet cold on the floor, and dialed my brother, not caring that it was the middle of the night back home. Leo’s voice was thick with sleep. “Summer? Why are you calling so late? Is something wrong?” My own voice was grim. “Leo, I need you to find someone for me. Drop everything.” Before I could tell him about Ava, my phone buzzed with a new message. [It’s okay now. I was in a dark place for a minute. Don’t worry.] The crushing weight on my chest lifted. I realized I was drenched in a cold sweat. Leo was still on the line, demanding answers. “It’s nothing, Leo. Go back to sleep.” He chuckled softly. “You’re the only one who could get away with waking me up at this hour. I know you’re not feeling great about… all this. That’s why you’ve been away so long. But it’s okay, Summer. You’ll always be my only sister, you know that?” “I know,” I murmured. After more than twenty years together, my family knew me better than anyone. My extended vacation was, in part, a way of avoiding the inevitable. Two months ago, I’d left on a whim to clear my head. The moment I was gone, the bomb dropped: I was the wrong daughter. The real one had been found. My family swore they wouldn’t send me away, that we would always be a family, but our social circle was a viper’s nest of gossip. The rumor was that I’d fled the country to escape the scandal. Annoyed, I decided to stay and personally oversee our company’s European branch for a while. After reassuring Leo I’d be home soon, I hurried back to my chat with Ava. [Don’t be sad, sweetie. I don’t know what happened, but I’m always on your side. Always.] Her reply came quickly this time. [I was just thinking… if I died, it would cause a lot of trouble for other people. This is the first time in my life I’ve had my own room. I cherish it. I don’t want to die here.] Her words painted a vivid, heartbreaking picture. I punched my pillow in frustration. Who the hell were these people she’d found? How could anyone have someone as wonderful as Ava and not treat her like a treasure? Sleep was impossible now. Worried sick, I sat cross-legged on my bed and chatted with her for hours. I knew Ava’s story. An orphan, raised in a group home. She was discovered by a scout because of her stunning looks, but without connections and unwilling to play the industry’s dirty games, she never got past bit parts. I’d stumbled upon her work by chance and fallen for her talent. I was one of her handful of fans, and just when I thought she might finally get her big break, she quit. She told me she’d found her family, but it seemed they didn’t want her. Her simple, typed words on the screen made my heart ache. [I guess if a stranger suddenly showed up and wanted to join my family, I’d have a hard time accepting it too. I get it.] We talked for a long time. I made sure she had calmed down and that the suicidal thoughts had passed before I let myself relax. [Honey, I’m coming home in a few days. Will you wait for me? I’ve never even met you in person. If your family isn’t good to you, it doesn’t matter. When I get back, I’ll be your friend and your family. You just have to wait for me.] She took a long time to reply. [Okay.] A smile touched my lips. I opened the airline app to book a flight, only to stare at the screen in disbelief. A historic blizzard was forecast for the next two weeks. All flights home were grounded. 2 The next day, I checked the flight schedules again, my hope dwindling. It was confirmed: I wasn’t getting home for at least two weeks. Resigned, I called my mother. Her voice was laced with a theatrical pout. “Darling, are you sure you’re not just making excuses?” “Mom, I’m serious,” I said, exasperated. “Have your assistant check the flight statuses if you don’t believe me. I’m literally snowed in.” She sighed, then launched into a flurry of motherly advice about staying warm and safe during the blizzard. Listening to her, a warmth spread through my chest. I had been avoiding their calls, because… well, because of everything. But right now, it felt like nothing had changed. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the phone, making me jump. I heard my mother’s voice, sharp and urgent. “I told you not to touch anything in this house! That was Summer’s!” The reply was faint, a tiny voice apologizing over and over. “Mom? What was that?” I asked. A few seconds passed before she came back on the line, her tone smooth again. “Oh, sorry, sweetheart. Mommy was just careless and knocked over your old model. Don’t you worry, I’ll have Leo buy you the newest edition, okay?” I frowned. I’d heard the other voice. The one who knocked it over was… her. I was silent for a moment, grateful we were on the phone so she couldn’t see the expression on my face. “Oh, that old thing?” I said, forcing a light tone. “I built that ages ago. I don’t even like it anymore. It’s no big deal.” She didn’t reply right away. For some reason, I didn’t hang up. Like a thief, I listened in, trying to piece together the scene at home from the muffled sounds on the other end. I heard my mother’s voice again, no longer the gentle tone she used with me, but cold and severe. Then, I heard quiet, suppressed sobs. I sighed. I wasn’t the only one having a hard time. A moment later, my mother’s voice returned. “Darling, are you still there?” I hesitated. “Mom… she’s your biological daughter. Maybe you should be a little…” It was the first time in two months I had acknowledged her existence directly. I could feel my mother freeze on the other end of the line. Then came a choked sob. “Why did she have to show up now? Why did she have to ruin our family? Couldn’t we have just let the mistake be?” I fell silent, torn between relief at my family’s unwavering love for me and a deep, gnawing shame. None of this was the real heiress’s fault. After we hung up, I wiped a tear from my eye and went back to messaging Ava. [Sweetie TAT the blizzard is insane, all flights are cancelled. I’m stuck here for a while.] [I’m so bored. Everyone here speaks a different language. Can you chat with me more? I need a friend.] I had to give her a reason to feel needed, to anchor her fragile emotional state. A moment later, she replied. [A blizzard? Oh no! You have to be careful and stay safe.] It was followed by a small, worried-face emoji. We chatted for a bit, and then she went quiet. Just as I was starting to worry, a new message came through. [Summer, am I just… redundant?] I jabbed at the keyboard, my fingers hitting the screen harder than necessary. [Of course not!!! You’re the absolute best!!!] [But today, my mother said she wished I had never come back. That I disrupted their happy family.] A surge of anger shot through me. I typed furiously. [Then leave. You don’t need a family like that. I have money. You go back to acting, and I’ll be your investor. I’ll make you a star!] [You know, the first time I saw you on screen, I knew you were a brilliant, gifted actress.] Her reply was quick. [That’s so sweet of you. I’ve thought about leaving, I really have. But I pissed off Mr. Thorne, the head of Celestial Entertainment. He’s a friend of my… family. He hates me. I don’t think I can go back to acting TAT] [Maybe I should just get a normal job…] Celestial Entertainment. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Maybe they had a partnership with our family’s company? I’d look into it when I got home. 3 For the next few days, I threw myself into work at the branch office, messaging Ava in every spare moment. Her mood seemed to be improving, but from the little details she let slip, I knew her situation at home was still terrible. Her family was clearly wealthy and provided for her financially—a step up from her former life of barely scraping by—but emotionally, she was starving. All I could do was pray for the snow to stop. For over twenty years, I, Summer Sterling, had been a force to be reckoned with in our circle—and not just because I was a Sterling. I was a legend in the venture capital world. Protecting one girl should have been easy. I cursed myself for being just a fangirl, for being happy she’d found her family without ever considering what kind of family they might be. I had just wrapped up a meeting when my phone rang. The smug, infuriating voice of Julian Thorne filled my ear. “Summer Sterling. Been gone a long time. Trying to ditch our engagement?” I rolled my eyes. “Julian, have you been living under a rock? Haven’t you heard? I’m the wrong one. Your engagement is with the Sterling heiress. You’ve got the wrong number.” He chuckled. “You told your brother you didn’t care, but I can tell you’re dying inside. Come on, she’s some country bumpkin. She can’t hold a candle to you. Besides, I already took care of her for you. She won’t dare show her face around you now.” I frowned. “Don’t do anything stupid, Julian. She’s still a Sterling, by blood. What did you do to her? She hasn’t done anything wrong.” “Relax,” he said. “The Sterlings are paying to keep her in style. Isn’t that enough? Now stop talking about switching fiancées and get your ass back here.” We chatted for a few more minutes. Right before hanging up, I remembered something. “Hey, didn’t you say you invested in an entertainment company? Let me play with it when I get back.” “Why?” he asked, suddenly suspicious. “Thinking of sponsoring some boy toy? Not on my watch.” “Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m going to make a star. Just you wait, my girl is going to take the world by storm.” “What’s your company called again?” I asked. Before Julian could answer, the line went dead. I glanced at my phone. The screen was black. Dead battery. Again. Back at my apartment, a message from Ava was waiting. [Summer, are you busy? I was wondering if I could ask you for some advice. Even though we haven’t met, I just feel like you must be such a graceful and beautiful person. The kind my mother would like.] I replied immediately. It turned out she wanted advice on table manners. [My family’s social circle invited me to a party. Maybe… maybe this means they’re ready to accept me.] Ava sent me pictures of a few dresses. [Which one should I wear?] I looked at the photos and frowned. From her descriptions, her family had money. A party in their circle wouldn’t be a simple dinner. These dresses were all wrong. I typed carefully. [Honey, would you be comfortable giving me an address? Let me order a dress for you.] I already had a chat window open with the regional manager for Chanel, ready to request a piece from their latest couture collection for her. Ava replied quickly. [Oh no, that’s too much trouble! I want to be your friend, not take advantage of you. I know these aren’t right. I’ll just ask my mother if I can borrow one. She’ll probably make fun of me, but I can just pretend I don’t hear her. Cat-making-a-fist.jpg] The emoji made me laugh out loud. She was such a sweetheart. As soon as I got back, I was taking her away from all of this. At the same time, my phone started buzzing incessantly. It was my group chat, “The Heiress Club,” lighting up with messages. Chloe Vance, one of the inner circle, tagged me. [@Summer Sterling, don’t say I never do anything for you. Don’t go to bed too early tonight. We’ve got a surprise for you.] 4 That evening, I was lying in bed with a face mask on, scrolling through videos. Outside, snow fell in thick, silent sheets. I kept refreshing my phone, but there was no new message from Ava. I wondered how her party was going. My right eyelid twitched. Suddenly, my phone pinged. A video from Julian. And a voice message. I played the audio. It was his smug, triumphant voice. “Summer, wake up! You’ve got to see this. This country girl is hilarious. I’m dying over here.” Before I could open the video, a new message from Ava popped up at the top of my screen. [Can I call you?] My heart sank. I ripped off the face mask and dialed her number, completely forgetting about Julian. The call connected. After a moment of silence, I heard Ava’s choked, suppressed sobs. “I should have known,” she whispered. “They just wanted to make a fool of me. But I still went…” Her heartbroken cries tore at me. My phone kept buzzing—the “Heiress Club” group chat was going wild. Annoyed, I silenced the notifications without even looking at them. I listened as Ava poured out her story. The invitation was a setup. The other heiresses pretended to welcome her, but it was a trap. They plied her with alcohol, and she, not wanting to seem difficult, drank until she was dizzy. Then, as planned, they tripped her up, making her stumble and spill her drink, a spectacle of clumsiness. The friendly faces turned cruel. They took pictures, their laughter echoing around her as she begged them to stop. And then came the worst part. “I saw him,” Ava sobbed. “My… my brother. I wanted to ask him to take me home, or just to help me, but… but he just looked at me like I was trash. He said I was embarrassing, that I didn’t belong and should stop trying so hard.” “When I got home, my mother looked at me with the same disgust. She said I reeked of alcohol and was filthy. The dress was torn, and she just told the maid to throw it away.” “Why?” she cried. “What did I do wrong?” My heart shattered for her. I remembered how excited she had been, asking me about etiquette. She had gone to that party full of hope. Why would they do this to her? I soothed her over the phone until, exhausted from crying, she finally drifted off to sleep. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I sent a message to Leo. “Leo, I need a background check on someone.” If they were all going to hurt her, then I would be the one to protect her. Before he could reply, a notification flashed on my screen. [Dear Ms. Sterling, booking is now available for flight CM761…] I shot up in bed. The snow had stopped. I was going home. The plane landed, but my phone had died from low battery. Thankfully, I’d arranged for a driver. As I settled into the back of the extended Maybach, the driver spoke respectfully. “Miss Sterling, the Vance family is hosting a gala this evening. Your mother, Mr. Leo, and Mr. Thorne are all in attendance.” I rubbed my temples. “Take me there.” I arrived at the Vance estate and headed inside. Before I could even find Chloe, I saw a familiar figure across the room. I blinked, rubbing my eyes, but there was no mistake. It was Ava Jane, the girl I’d idolized for three years. The world was so small. The family she was trying to join was right here, in my city. I started towards her, but Chloe’s mocking voice cut through the air. “You’ve got some nerve showing your face here again. Wasn’t last time bad enough for you?” I frowned. So Chloe was the one who had been bullying her? Without a second thought, I walked over and stepped in front of Ava, shielding her. Chloe stared at me. “Summer? What the hell are you doing? Are you protecting her? Have you lost your mind?” Ava looked up, her eyes wide. I squeezed her hand and gave her a small, reassuring smile. Then I looked up and saw my mother, my brother, and Julian all walking towards us. Leo smiled warmly at me. “Summer, you didn’t answer my messages. Why did you suddenly ask me to run a check on that girl?” Before I could answer, Leo’s expression shifted. His gaze moved past me, to the person I was protecting. His face turned to ice. “Why are you with Summer?” he said, his voice cold. “Didn’t I tell you to stop reaching for things that don’t belong to you? Summer is my only sister.” I froze, my mind going blank. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. “What… did you say?” I finally managed to whisper. “Who… is she?”

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I bought myself a Koenigsegg. I was about to take my girlfriend, Jenna, to a car club gala—the perfect place to finally come clean about who I really was—when she snatched the keys from my hand. “Alex,” she said, her voice a little too bright. “A buddy of mine, his crew is doing a cruise through town. Do you think we could borrow your car? Just to make an impression.” I froze. “Jenna, this car was nearly four million dollars. It’s not really something I can just lend out.” Her eyes immediately welled up. “You can’t do this one thing for me? He never asks for anything.” Before I could answer, a guy with electric blue hair strolled into my private garage, nodding at Jenna. “Jenna, baby. This the boyfriend with the lame-ass driving skills you were telling me about?” My fists clenched. “Who let you in here?” He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “Jenna, your boyfriend doesn’t even know who I am? I’m Ryder Stone. You know, the champion of this year’s Apex Rally?” His words hit me like a physical blow. Funny, I didn’t remember my three-time championship title being interrupted by this clown. 1 Jenna tossed the keys to Ryder. He didn’t hesitate, sliding into the driver’s seat and firing up the engine with a guttural roar. “Get out.” I grabbed the edge of the scissor door. “This is my car.” He just laughed, ignoring me completely. Jenna’s voice softened, turning pleading. “Alex, I’ve never asked you for anything…” For a split second, I felt a pang of weakness. But then I remembered the old saying: never lend out your car or your girl. My resolve hardened. “No.” I pulled out my phone to call the police, but Jenna snatched it, hiding it behind her back. Her eyes were red as she turned on me. “Do you have to make this so ugly? What’s the big deal if they borrow it for a couple of days?” Ryder, still in my car, sneered and pulled out his own phone. “You wanna play it that way?” He yelled into the receiver, “Boys! Get in here and check out the big shot’s ride!” The garage door slid open, and two guys reeking of stale beer stumbled in. One was bald with a mess of tattoos, the other wore a hideous Hawaiian shirt. They were holding selfie sticks. “Yo, what’s up, livestream!” the bald one shouted into his phone. “Check it out, a multi-million-dollar Koenigsegg! We’re about to show you how the other half lives!” In the chaos, Ryder gunned the engine. “Get out!” I lunged for the door, but the two goons grabbed me, holding me back. Ryder was laughing for his online audience. “Drop a hundred in the tip jar and I’ll get this baby up to one-fifty for you!” “Stop it!” I roared, struggling against their grip. “What’s the rush?” The bald guy shoved his selfie stick in my face. “Say hi to the camera! Let’s show everyone what the owner of a four-million-dollar car looks like when he’s being a little bitch!” The chat feed exploded with a stream of bile: “Damn, he looks like a Ken doll with a stick up his ass. So cheap.” “Look at that loser. Bet he drives it like a grandma.” “Where’d a punk like that get that kind of money? Daddy a crooked politician?” “Nah, he’s definitely some rich cougar’s boy toy.” “Let him go!” Jenna’s voice cut through the noise. A wave of relief washed over me. I thought she was finally coming to her senses. But then she said, “Alex, you should stand there and learn how a real pro drives! When it comes to skill, you’re not even worthy of washing his tires!” I stared at her, the words not computing. This was the woman I had loved for two years? I’d kept my real identity a secret, yes, but my love for her had been the truest thing in my life. How could she say that? Ryder honked the horn victoriously from inside the cockpit. The car screeched forward, and he started doing tight, aggressive donuts in the spacious garage, the smell of burning rubber filling the air. “See that?” The guy in the Hawaiian shirt slapped my back so hard I almost fell over. “That’s a burnout, buddy! Something a putz like you who only knows how to cruise has never experienced.” Jenna was frowning at me from the side. “Alex, why are you making that face? Can’t you just be a good sport about this?” Ryder slammed on the brakes, the car executing a perfect, beautiful drift before stopping inches from us. “How was that, Jenna? Better than your boyfriend, huh?” Jenna actually giggled. “Way better. You’re so much better than him.” Ryder’s laugh was greasy and loud. “Oh yeah? I bet I’m better in other ways, too.” Jenna playfully swatted at the air. “Oh, stop it!” she said, giving him a sultry look that made my stomach turn. A hot rage flooded my veins. “What the hell is going on between you two?” I demanded. 2 Jenna rolled her eyes at me like I was an idiot. “I told you, we’re just friends.” “You’re ‘just friends’ with these guys? A woman, with a crew like this? Do you have any concept of boundaries?” Her expression soured. “Are you from the Stone Age? Why are you so damn old-fashioned? You can’t even take a joke. Why can’t you be more like Ryder and his friends?” I was trembling with fury. “Be like them? You want me to be a thief who steals other people’s property?” Ryder heard me. His face hardened. He stomped on the accelerator, and the Koenigsegg shot toward one of the massive concrete support pillars of the garage. He swerved at the last possible second, the carbon fiber body missing the pillar by a whisper. “Ahh!” Jenna screamed, but it was a scream of exhilaration. “Ryder, that was so cool!” The bald guy and his friend whooped and cheered. “Ryder, you’re a legend!” The livestream chat was a waterfall of digital gifts and emojis. Ryder was beaming, pointing at me. “Jenna, what’s the point of being with a coward like this? Let me take you for a real ride.” He leaned over and pushed open the passenger door. And then, the moment that shattered everything. Jenna ran towards the car, her face lit up with pure joy. “Jenna!” I yelled, my voice raw. “If you get in that car with him, we are done!” She paused, her face clouded with annoyance. “Oh, my God, you are unbelievable. I’m just going for a spin with a champion driver. You’d break up with me over that? I’ll be back in a little while. Can you stop being such a baby?” Without another look at me, she slid into the passenger seat. Ryder let out a triumphant laugh, gave me a downward-pointing thumbs-up, and floored it. The car vanished out of the garage in a blur of motion and a scream of engine noise. “Whoa, did you see that, people?” the bald guy said, pointing his camera back at my stunned face. “The owner is just standing there like a statue! His girlfriend just took off with the champ!” The Hawaiian shirt guy nudged me with his elbow. “Hey, man, don’t take it so hard. Jenna and our boy Ryder, they’re a perfect match. You’re just… you know, the opening act.” I ground my teeth, my jaw aching. I was about to reach for my phone—my real phone, from my other pocket—when I saw the screen of the bald guy’s phone. It had switched to Ryder’s point-of-view, clearly being filmed by Jenna. The camera was angled on Ryder’s profile as he expertly shifted gears and weaved through traffic. “This car is insane, folks!” he shouted over the engine noise. “A total waste on that loser owner!” Jenna’s voice, full of adoration, chimed in. “Go faster, Ryder! Faster!” “You got it, baby! Hold on tight!” The two goons watched, mesmerized, occasionally glancing over to mock me. “Hey, Jenna told us you’re working with a real toothpick down there. Is that true?” The bald guy cackled. “Oh, I heard! Just like his driving—limp and boring!” The words were so vile, so degrading. I didn’t know if they were making it up or if Jenna had actually said that about me. Either way, it was unbearable. “Shut up,” I snarled through clenched teeth. “Ooh, defensive, are we?” the Hawaiian shirt guy added. “Why else do you think she’s so close with Ryder? He knows how to perform, if you know what I mean. Hahaha!” On the screen, Ryder was steering with one hand. His other hand… it moved and draped itself around Jenna’s shoulders. She didn’t push him away. Instead, she giggled and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Whoa! We’ve got live-action romance, people!” the bald guy yelled into his phone. Then, Jenna tilted her head up and planted a kiss on Ryder’s cheek. He laughed, turning his head to catch her lips in a deep, sloppy kiss. My brain short-circuited. A girlfriend who would do that? Why was I even hesitating? It was over. What was I waiting for? An engraved invitation to my own public humiliation? 3 There was something naggingly familiar about Ryder’s arrogant face. I knew I’d seen him somewhere before, and it definitely wasn’t on a rally podium. While the two goons were distracted by the livestream, I discreetly pulled up some information on Ryder Stone. And what I found was very, very interesting. I dialed 911. “Hello, my Koenigsegg has been stolen by a man named Ryder Stone. He’s currently driving recklessly through the city, speeding…” Before I could finish, the bald guy rushed me, slapping the phone out of my hand. “Fuck! You little snitch, you actually called the cops?!” “You really don’t know when to quit!” He stomped on my phone, crushing it on the concrete floor. The Hawaiian shirt guy grabbed me in a chokehold and dragged me backward while the bald one quickly called Ryder. Less than five minutes later, the Koenigsegg screeched back into the garage. Ryder leaped out, storming toward me, and drove his fist straight into my gut. “You want to die, you piece of shit?” Jenna walked up to me then. She didn’t check if I was okay. She didn’t show a flicker of concern. Instead, she slapped me hard across the face. “Alex! You coward! It was a small thing, did you really have to blow it up like this?” I clutched my stomach, the pain a white-hot nova. I looked at the woman I once loved, her face now twisted into an ugly, unfamiliar mask. Ryder spat on the floor and grabbed a fistful of my hair. “Looks like we have to teach you a lesson you won’t forget. Tie him up!” I struggled, but it was two against one. “Ryder, what do we do now?” the bald guy asked. Before Ryder could answer, the doorbell to the main house rang. A flicker of hope ignited in me. I tried to make a sound. Ryder’s face changed, and he shot me a venomous look. “Jenna, you go talk to them.” He then nodded to the Hawaiian shirt guy. “You go with her. Make it look convincing.” I could hear a police officer’s voice through the door. “We received a report about a stolen vehicle?” The Hawaiian shirt guy’s voice, suddenly friendly and calm, answered. “Oh, that was me, officer! Total misunderstanding! My friend just took the car out without asking, and I kind of freaked out and called you guys. He just brought it back. Everything’s fine now.” Jenna immediately backed him up. “My boyfriend just has a bit of a temper!” The police saw the car, parked and undamaged. They took some notes and left. The second the door closed, their true natures returned. They dragged me out from behind a stack of storage bins and threw me to the ground. Ryder kicked me hard in the stomach, and my vision swam with black spots. Jenna stood a few feet away, arms crossed, watching with cold indifference. “Hey, tough guy,” the Hawaiian shirt guy sneered, squatting down to pat my cheek. “Not so tough now, are you? Did you learn your lesson?” 4 They had gagged me, so I couldn’t scream the curses I was thinking, but I made sure my eyes conveyed all the hatred I felt. “Ooh, still defiant?” the bald one grinned. “Boys, I think he needs a little something extra to help him cool off.” Ryder grinned cruelly and started to unbuckle his pants. “I’ve been holding it in. Thought I’d give you a taste of some golden champagne, cool you off!” A hot, foul stream rained down on me, soaking my hair and shirt. The humiliation was so absolute, so suffocating, I nearly passed out. “Hahaha!” The two goons roared with laughter. Jenna actually let out a snort of amusement. “Ryder is a rally champion. It’s an honor for him to even drive your car. You really don’t know what’s good for you.” Ryder zipped up his pants and kicked me again. “Can’t handle that? Oh, the fun is just getting started.” He motioned to his friends. “Go to town on him. Don’t hit the face, but make sure he remembers this. Teach him some respect.” A storm of fists and feet descended on my back, my stomach, my ribs. I curled into a ball, each blow punctuated by their vile taunts and crazed laughter. “Think you’re hot shit with your fancy car?” “Useless coward!” And through it all, Jenna never said a word to stop them. When they finally got tired, they stopped. Ryder nudged me with his shoe. “Kid, let this be a lesson. We’re taking the car. If you dare call the cops again, it’ll be a lot worse than a beating and a golden shower. Got it?” The Hawaiian shirt guy asked, “Ryder, what about him?” Ryder stretched, satisfied. “Just leave him tied up. Keep him out of trouble.” Jenna added, “Yeah, that way we can have some fun for a couple of days without him bothering us.” Ryder wrapped his arm around Jenna’s waist. “Let’s go, baby. I know a place where we can have a real good time.” Just as they were about to leave, there was a sharp, authoritative knock at the door. The laughter died instantly. Ryder’s face soured. “Don’t tell me the cops came back.” His friends looked nervous, exchanging glances. “Quick! Shove him back there!” They scrambled to drag me back into the corner, behind the storage bins. Just before they stuffed the gag back in my mouth, I yelled at Ryder, “Your good times are over!” My words made him pause, then his face contorted with rage. He rushed over and kicked me viciously one last time. “You son of a bitch! You dare curse me? I’ll deal with you later!” The moment the door opened, the smile on Ryder’s face froze. He stood there as if he’d been turned to stone.

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At dinner, my husband suddenly asked me: “What would you do if I met someone… better than you?” I was silent for a moment. “Then you should be with her. We can get a divorce.” What he didn’t know was… I had already seen him. Earlier today. I watched him frantically try to comfort that girl, her eyes red from crying. I heard him say, “Don’t cry. I’ll give you a future.” 1 He put his chopsticks down. His face went pale, then twisted into a difficult smile. “Claire, I was just kidding.” It wasn’t a joke. I knew. I knew what his love felt like. Which is how I knew, without a doubt, that what he felt for that girl was real. Earlier today, at the hospital, the doctor’s bored expression softened when he read my chart. He lowered his voice. “Don’t be scared. It’s not late-stage. If you start treatment, this is manageable.” I was walking out with the diagnosis in my hand when I saw them. Mark’s arm was injured. The girl was looking at it, her eyes filling with tears. “Why did I meet you so late?” she whispered. “I don’t even have the right to take care of you.” Mark looked frantic. “Summer, don’t cry,” he said, reaching for her. Blood seeped through his new bandage. “I’ll give you a future.” The words hung in the air. He froze, as if he’d surprised himself. But the girl believed him. She looked up, her nose red. “Really?” Mark just frowned, and said nothing. I didn’t stay to watch the rest. I know Mark. As long as we were married, he wouldn’t physically cheat. But his heart? I can’t control his heart. 2 I wanted to know. What kind of girl was “better” than me? I found her in his phone. Summer. I had to see her for myself. I had to see the person who so easily destroyed eight years. We survived long-distance. We survived the pandemic. We survived being so broke we split a single instant ramen for dinner. But we couldn’t survive a “better person.” I found her on the local college campus. She was exactly what you’d expect. Young. Bright. An elderly janitor was struggling with a heavy trash bin. The bag split, and dozens of empty soda cans clattered across the pavement. Summer, in her cream-colored coat, ran over and started picking them up. She helped the woman get the new bag in place and walked with her for a block. I followed, like a creep. Suddenly, footsteps. A figure moved fast, blocking my view. It was Mark. He was standing between me and the girl, his hands half-raised. His lips were trembling. “Claire… it’s not her fault.” Not her fault. Then whose fault was it? Mine? The girl, Summer, finally noticed me. She looked at me, then quickly looked away, her face full of shame. 3 In a coffee shop. Mark sat across from me, his eyes full of pain. “Claire, I…” He couldn’t say it. I was waiting. Waiting to see if, now that I knew, he would choose to end it with her, or end it with me. He finally, painfully, got the words out. “Claire… I… I don’t think I love you anymore.” I didn’t say anything. My body betrayed me first. My eyes burned. He looked helpless. “Don’t cry…” He stared at me, then slid the napkin dispenser across the table. He let out a long, heavy sigh. “We’ve been together since we were eighteen, Claire. Eight years. I know I’m an asshole. I’m disgusting. But… in eight years… the love just… it turned into family. Into obligation. We can’t fight that. It just happens.” “And her?” I asked. He was silent. “Maybe that will fade, too,” he said. “But… I don’t want to lie to you right now.” He looked up, his voice bitter. “I haven’t done anything. I haven’t slept with her. If you want… we can stay married. We can… keep going. But all I have left to give you is… responsibility. And the rest of my time.” How could I describe that feeling? It wasn’t just sadness. It was… watching yourself drown. You know you’re going to die. You just have to wait for the water to fill your lungs. We sat in silence. Finally, I spoke. “Let’s set a date. To file for divorce.” 4 It was evening when I left the cafe. The sunset was a blinding, angry red. Across the street, someone was hovering by the bus stop. Mark saw her instantly and sprinted across the road, dodging a car. The girl flinched, her face pale. “Summer, what are you doing here?” he said, his voice rough. “I told you to go back to your dorm. Have you been waiting this whole time?” She glanced at me, then dropped her head. “I… I was worried about you…” His whole face softened. “Hey. Don’t be.” A wave of nausea, so sharp and acidic, hit me. I thought I was already at rock bottom. I thought I couldn’t feel any worse. I was wrong.

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After dying from poverty and starvation, I spent a thousand years in the Underworld buttering up the King of Hell. Finally, he agreed to let me choose my next life. Scanning the “Wealthiest Families” list, I didn’t hesitate. I picked the #1 Billionaire family. Blinded by the dream of being a spoiled, only daughter in a crazy rich family, I ignored the “Family Composition” section. The father was a wife-guy to the extreme. The mother was a competitive, jealous psycho. My nightmare started the day they brought me home from the hospital to their mansion. Dad touched my cheek? Mom clawed a chunk of skin off my face, leaving me scarred. I cried from hunger, interrupting Mom’s beauty sleep? Dad stuffed me into the refrigerator until I had third-degree frostbite. My first birthday interrupted their “999th Day Since Our First Kiss” anniversary? They threw me into the fireplace. I burned until there was nothing left but ash. Back in the Underworld. The King of Hell pitied me and suggested I pick another family. But I pointed right back at that same damn family. I looked at the well-preserved, elegant Grandma on the screen and asked the Billionaire Grandpa: “The first account was a bust. Wanna start a new save file?” This time, I’m changing my mom! Grandpa, a vigorous 48-year-old, nodded without hesitation. That night, amidst some passionate sounds, I slipped into Grandma’s womb. A thousand years of sucking up, I wasn’t going to waste it. I was getting into that rich family one way or another! This time, I’m not the third generation. I’m the second generation! The thought of my former “dad” now having to split the inheritance with me, and my former “mom” having to call me “Sister-in-law”… It felt so good. Revenge time. I held onto the umbilical cord, silently absorbing nutrients. I never kicked or fussed when Grandma was resting. She was ex-military, fit as a fiddle. I felt myself growing strong along with her. When the time came, I slid out of Grandma… No, out of Mom’s belly, smooth as silk. Mom held me, beaming. “Honey, our daughter is a lucky baby!” “Birthing her didn’t hurt a bit.” She shot a glare at my former dad, Julian, who was currently being lovey-dovey with my former mom, Chloe. “Unlike someone who almost kicked a hole in my stomach when he was born.” “And now? Married and forgot his mother. Giving birth is like walking through the gates of hell, and he hasn’t even asked how I am…” A pair of large hands gently touched my soft cheek. I smelled the scent of old money coming from my billionaire dad. I gave him a sweet, obedient smile. My former grandpa—now my dad—melted instantly. “You did great, honey. Don’t worry, I’m going to make our daughter the happiest little princess in the world.” Hearing the word “princess,” Chloe’s jealousy radar pinged. She stomped her foot, pointed at her father-in-law, and teared up. “That’s not right!” “Hubby-bear, I’m the little princess, right?” Julian affectionately booped her nose. My mom rolled her eyes. Usually, if she said more than two words to her son, her daughter-in-law would whine for hours. Once, she couldn’t take it and kicked Chloe out. Her useless son threatened to jump off the roof! The Gu family needed an heir, so she had to beg her to come back. But she hated seeing them, so she made them move out. Seeing them only a few times a year, she naturally didn’t know how I was treated in my past life. But now things were different. I was born. If she kept tolerating this, she wouldn’t be worthy of her title as the Billionaire’s Wife and former Military Commander! Mom carried me right off the bed. “You’re over thirty. Can you stop acting like a toddler?” The moment Chloe saw my face, she let out a horrifying shriek! Julian also gasped. “This… isn’t this our dead daughter, Tina?” I suddenly opened my eyes and smirked. Calculating the date, today was the anniversary of my death in my past life. “Ghost! It’s a ghost!” Dad finally snapped. Slap! He backhanded Chloe across the face. “What nonsense are you spouting?!” Chloe burst into loud, ugly tears. I giggled loudly. Mom was infected by my laughter, delightedly poking the corner of my mouth. “What a smart baby. She can feel Mommy and Daddy’s emotions.” Dad put his arm around Mom’s shoulder. “Let’s take my big baby and little baby home to enjoy life.” As we turned the corner, I heard Chloe trembling with rage. She sobbed: “Hubby, did you see her eyes? Could it be… Tina, that little bitch, came back?” Mom and Dad took me home. Looking at the decor, even more luxurious than in my past life, I swore I wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes! After dinner, the private doctor gave Mom a postpartum recovery massage in her room. Dad held me, cooing gently. Suddenly, I stopped smiling. The two villains had arrived. Chloe wiped her tears, looking pitiful. “Dad, I lost my composure at the hospital today.” “You know, today is the anniversary of Tina’s death. Little Sister looks just like her, so I had a bit of a PTSD reaction.” Dad, seeing Chloe’s red eyes, softened a bit. “Alright. Your mom and I don’t blame you.” Forgiven, Chloe looked even more worried. “Dad, giving birth takes a toll on a woman. Mom is an older mother, she needs rest to recover well.” “You’re busy with the company. I’ve been through this, I have experience with babies…” “Hubby and I will move in starting today to help take care of the baby.” Mom was fit, but she didn’t have the energy of a twenty-year-old. Dad hesitated, then nodded. “It’ll be hard work for you then.” Dad, no! You just agreed?! I felt the sky falling. This was the fox guarding the henhouse! I wailed in panic, trying to protest their crimes. But Dad didn’t understand. He just said soothingly: “Aw, why is baby crying? Come here, Daddy’s got you…” Chloe snatched me first. “Dad, your arms are too hard. You’ll hurt the baby.” She pressed my face hard into her chest. My crying stopped instantly. “See, Dad? She stopped crying as soon as I held her.” Hey, wait! It’s not that I don’t want to cry! I literally can’t breathe! I can’t cry! Dad noticed something was off. “Are you holding her too tight?” “Dad, you obviously haven’t raised a baby. Babies are wrapped tight in the womb. Holding them tight gives them security…” Julian chimed in: “Dad, you don’t get it. Tina used to cry all night. We’d tie her up a little, and she’d sleep soundly.” You two have the nerve to bring that up? In my past life, Chloe didn’t just tie me up; she stuffed a rag in my mouth! Seeing that I was indeed quiet, Dad went to the study with Julian, relieved. Once their footsteps faded, Chloe sneered and tossed me onto the bed. “Little bitch. You’re too green to fight me!” Memories of past torture flooded back. I cried out in fear. Chloe slapped my face. “Shut up!” “Those two old fogeys said you love to smile. Why aren’t you smiling?” “Do you know who I am? Are you scared?” She stared down at me, eyes dead. Suddenly, the corner of her mouth curled up. I had a very bad feeling. She took a packet of powder from her bag, mixed it into a milk bottle, and shook it. She walked toward me, smiling grimly. “Baby be good. Sister-in-law is going to feed you.” As she got closer, I smelled peanuts. In my past life, I ate a peanut off the floor and went into anaphylactic shock. It almost killed me. I clamped my mouth shut and turned my head, refusing to let a drop in. Chloe sneered. “Little bitch, still afraid of peanuts, huh…” I forced myself to calm down. I had to save myself. Suddenly, I turned my head and giggled at the door. Chloe looked at the door, startled. Seizing the chance, I reached out and grabbed a handful of her meticulously maintained hair. Chloe screamed in pain. “Bitch! You dare pull my hair!” “Let go, or I’ll kill you!” I pulled harder, practically hanging off her hair! Amidst her screams, a huge patch of hair ripped out, roots and scalp included. Hurried footsteps sounded outside. The door burst open. Mom yelled, “What are you doing?!”

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My best friend started dating the hottest, richest guy on campus. When she posted the official relationship announcement, my comment was instantaneous: Ask him if he has any friends. A second later, she sent me a picture: her new boyfriend with his crew. Every single one of them was a ten. Her text: Take your pick. I chose the most handsome one. The impossible one. Six months later, I sent her a message: I can’t do this. Maybe I should just pick a different one? 1 My best friend, Olivia, had officially bagged the campus king. Looking at the picture she’d just posted to her Instagram story—her, tucked under Carter Brooks’s arm like she was born there—I immediately fired back a comment. So… does he have a brother? A second later, a photo landed in my DMs. It was Carter with two of his friends, all of them offensively good-looking. Liv’s text followed: Take your pick. I stared at the screen, genuinely torn between two entirely different flavors of handsome. One had eyes that crinkled at the corners and a smirk playing on his thin lips. He was gorgeous, but in a way that screamed “I break hearts for sport.” A player. The other one… his face was all sharp angles and unforgiving lines. His lips were pressed together, his gaze drilling into the camera with an intensity that made my breath catch. He was my type, exactly my type, which usually meant one thing: he was going to be difficult. To hell with difficult. I was in. I circled the second guy’s face and sent it back to Liv. I want that one. A few minutes later, his dossier arrived. Ethan Scott. 6’2”, 185 lbs. Cadet at the military academy across town. Oh, god. A cadet. I glanced down at my own body. I was almost his weight. That evening, Liv organized a small get-together. Staring at my reflection, at the soft curve of my stomach pushing against the fabric of my dress, a familiar wave of doubt washed over me. It was no surprise Liv had landed Carter Brooks; she was the kind of effortlessly beautiful girl who commanded attention just by walking into a room. Me? I had to hold my breath to comfortably zip up a size 12. Could I really pull this off? My phone rang. It was Liv. “Sophie, you better bring your A-game tonight. Dress to kill.” “Liv, maybe I should just bail,” I mumbled, already starting to lose my nerve. Carter Brooks was a legend on campus, a guy from a family with a name. His friends were bound to be in the same league. “Sophie Miller! Don’t you dare,” she commanded, her voice sharp. “The opportunity is right in front of you. Think about that face. Think about the life that comes with a guy like that. This isn’t a date, it’s a lottery ticket.” Fine. Lottery ticket. I was all in. I squeezed into a little black dress, wobbled my way into a pair of heels I never wore, and headed out. Liv had picked a chic rooftop bar. When she saw me, she waved me over with a grin. “Soph, over here!” I slid into the booth next to her. Carter was on her other side, and across from them, there he was. Ethan Scott. His presence was even more striking in person. I’d never seen a guy look so good with a buzz cut. He wore a plain white button-down, but on him, it looked less like a piece of clothing and more like a statement of severe, untouchable discipline. An aura of pure, unfiltered stoicism. I took a gulp of water to calm the frantic hummingbird in my chest. “This is my best friend, Sophie,” Liv announced. “And this is Ethan Scott, Carter’s friend,” she added, giving me a pointed little wink. I managed a smile and a small wave. He returned it with a slow, deliberate nod. “Hey, Liv, what about me?” a voice complained from Ethan’s side. It was the other guy from the picture, the one with the player smile. My god, tonight was a feast for the eyes. My life was officially looking up. “Hi, I’m Noah,” he said, arching an eyebrow in a way that was clearly practiced. “Sophie,” I replied. The night devolved into a game of Truth or Dare. When the empty beer bottle spun and landed squarely on me, Liv gave me a subtle thumbs-up. “Dare,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. Liv’s eyes lit up. “Make eye contact with any guy at this table for thirty seconds. No breaking.” There was no question who I’d choose. I locked eyes with Ethan. His gaze was like a physical weight, deep and unreadable. My heart started hammering against my ribs so loudly I was sure he could hear it. Calm down, you idiot. He’s going to hear you. When the bottle pointed at me a second time, I shot a look at the instigator. Could you be any more obvious, Liv? I chose dare again. “Ask a guy here for his number,” Liv declared, loving the drama. “If he says no, you chug three drinks.” My hands were trembling as I pulled out my phone. I angled it toward Ethan. “Hi. Could I… get your number?” He seemed to finally catch on to the setup, and a slight frown creased his forehead. The moment stretched, thick with awkward silence. Finally, after a sharp nudge from Liv, Carter spoke up. “Come on, Ethan. It’s just a number. The lady’s asking. Don’t be an ass.” In the end, I walked away with his contact saved in my phone. 2 From that day on, I made it my mission to text-harass Ethan Scott. He mostly left me on read, and when he did reply, it was with curt, one-word answers. Liv told me this wasn’t going to cut it. “You have to get him in person, Soph! Physical proximity creates sparks!” I knew she was right. But looking at my reflection, at the soft, rounded version of myself in the mirror, I made a decision. I was going on a diet. That afternoon, I signed up for a gym membership. My goal was to get down to 130 pounds, which meant shedding thirty pounds of flesh that loved hot pot, barbecue, and late-night snacks more than anything. God, it was going to be torture. But maybe love really was magic. The next day, as I was sweating on the treadmill, I pictured Ethan’s severe, handsome face, and my legs pumped a little faster. Which is why I wanted the floor to swallow me whole when I ran into him at that very gym, dressed in a baggy, sweat-stained gray sweatsuit, my face bare and flushed. He stopped short when he saw me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. I forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Hey!” A corner of his mouth twitched, amused by my mortified expression. “I thought you were studying at the library.” I froze, remembering the text I’d sent him half an hour ago. My face burned. I was trying to have a secret transformation, to emerge from my cocoon as a beautiful butterfly, and here he was, seeing me as a sweaty caterpillar. “Uh…” I scratched my head, scrambling for an excuse. “Yeah, I was. School’s just so stressful, you know? Came to run it off.” The cringe was unbearable. He didn’t press it. He just took off his jacket and started lifting weights, his muscles flexing under his shirt. Watching the clean, powerful lines of his arms, I silently increased the speed on my treadmill. For the next month, the gym became my sanctuary and my hunting ground. Seeing Ethan there was my primary motivation. We graduated from awkward silence to the occasional joke. The number on the scale dropped from 160 to 150. My clothes went from a Large to a Medium. When Liv saw me again, she grabbed my hands and spun me around. “Sophie! You’ve lost so much weight!” “What can I say? I haven’t tasted barbecue in a month. All for the love of Ethan Scott.” “That’s some serious willpower,” she said, giving me an impressed thumbs-up. While we were out shopping, Liv picked out a blue, off-the-shoulder dress—a style and color I would have never dared to try before. When I stepped out of the fitting room, Liv’s jaw dropped. “Wow, Soph. That dress was literally made for you.” I looked at my reflection. I was still a little soft around the edges, but for the first time in a long time, I liked what I saw. 3 That night, I was lying in bed, sending a barrage of texts to Ethan that were going unanswered. This was unusual. After weeks of my relentless campaign, he’d started responding regularly, even initiating a bit of banter. Then, my phone rang. It was Liv. “Sophie, you need to get over here. Now. It’s a code red.” “What is it?” “Your competition just showed up.” Alarms blared in my head. I shot out of bed, threw on the new blue dress, and raced to the bar she’d sent me the location of. When Ethan saw me, his eyes widened in surprise. My gaze immediately slid to the girl sitting next to him. She was dressed head-to-toe in designer labels, her hair a sheet of perfect silk. Every inch of her screamed expensive, effortless polish. “Hi,” she said, her smile perfectly pleasant. “I’m Amelia Reed. Ethan and I went to high school together.” I mirrored her smile, dialing up the sweetness. “Hi! I’m Sophie Miller. I’m Ethan’s workout buddy.” Ethan stared at me, his eyes wide as dinner plates. I fluttered my eyelashes at him, laying the damsel act on thick. He looked so startled he grabbed his drink and took a nervous sip. I heard Liv choke back a laugh from across the table. Amelia’s perfect smile tightened just a fraction. After that, I ramped up my pursuit. Whenever I had a free moment, I’d head over to the academy, watching him during his training sessions. His classmates started to recognize me. “Hey, Scott, your girlfriend’s here again! Lucky bastard!” they’d yell. Ethan would just shake his head, a resigned look on his face. “She’s not my girlfriend.” The days bled into weeks, and summer turned to fall. My relationship with Ethan, however, remained completely stalled. I complained to Liv that the man was a fortress, impossible to breach. The one silver lining was that my body was transforming. I was getting closer and closer to my goal weight. On Ethan’s birthday, I showed up at his house with a watch I’d spent weeks saving for. He took the gift from my hands. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low. Noah popped up from out of nowhere. “Sophie, whoa! You look… different.” “How different?” “Different enough that I’m about to fall in love. You should give up on Ethan and give me a shot.” He said it with a dramatic flair that made me laugh. “Noah, rack the balls,” Ethan said, his tone suddenly sharp. Watching Ethan lean over the pool table was a form of exquisite torture. If he looked that good just bending over a table, I could only imagine what he’d look like… anywhere else. “Hey. Wipe your drool, it’s getting on the floor.” Liv nudged me. “All I can do is drool,” I sighed. “I’ve been at this for three months. If it hasn’t happened by now, it’s never going to happen.” “Has he given you any sign? Anything at all?” I shook my head, my good mood deflating. “Seriously, man, do you like Sophie or not?” I was coming out of the bathroom when I heard Noah’s voice and froze. “I don’t know,” Ethan replied. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Do you get that, like, heart-pounding, butterflies-in-your-stomach feeling when you see her?” A pause. “No.” My nails dug into my palms. I let out a quiet, bitter laugh at my own foolishness. In the adult world, a non-answer is an answer. A lack of response is a rejection. How had I been so blind? 4 I didn’t see Ethan for a week. After hearing those two words, something inside me finally clicked into place. You can’t force someone to love you. I stared at myself in the mirror—hair a tangled mess, dark circles under my eyes. I looked pathetic. After a long shower, I sent Liv a message, trying to make a joke out of my heartbreak. He’s impossible. Guess I’ll just have to find someone else.

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On my wedding day, my fiancée was at her parents’ house, waiting for me to pick her up. She never made it to the limo. Instead, she got a call from Nate, the ghost of the boy she was supposed to marry. She brought him to the venue herself and, in a move that felt ripped from a soap opera, simply swapped out the groom. When the news reached me, my world didn’t just collapse; it was vaporized. I begged my parents to drive me there, to get some kind of explanation, to demand an answer for the public humiliation. We never made it. On the way, a truck ran a red light. My parents were killed instantly. My mother’s last act was to throw her body over mine. I survived. The aftermath was a blur of grief and guilt that curdled into a severe case of PTSD. For two years, I was a ghost haunting the ruins of my own life. And through it all, it was Stella’s older sister, Annelise, who never left my side. She was my anchor in a world that had come unmoored. The day I was finally cleared by my therapist, Annelise celebrated by lighting up the city skyline with fireworks, just for me. Her eyes, glistening with tears in the colored light, met mine. “Will you marry me, Ethan?” she asked. After two years of her unwavering devotion, of her pulling me back from the brink time and again, my heart had already become hers. I nodded, my own tears finally falling not from grief, but from a desperate, fragile hope. Three years into our marriage, she got pregnant. I was so ecstatic I wanted to rent a billboard. But that same night, I overheard her on the phone with her assistant, her voice a low, urgent whisper in her home office. “I’ve been on birth control this whole time. How could this happen? I can’t have this baby. I promised Nate I wouldn’t have another man’s child.” The assistant’s voice trembled. “But if Mr. Hayes finds out… this could get very messy.” “And what about the accident from five years ago?” the assistant pressed. “If that ever came out, if he knew we were the ones who arranged it…” Annelise’s laugh was like the chime of a cracked bell. “For Nate, I’d do anything.” “Besides,” she added, her voice dropping to ice, “I married him, didn’t I? Isn’t that enough?” 1 “But Ms. Prescott, he’s wanted this baby for three years. Losing it… I think it might destroy him.” The assistant’s plea was faint through the closed door. “You orchestrated that crash just so Nate could marry your sister without a scene. Mr. Hayes almost died. Haven’t you done enough? Are you really going to sacrifice your own child now?” I could hear the soft, rhythmic sound of Annelise’s fingers stroking something on her desk. I knew it was the small, polished wooden box she always kept there. Her voice was thick with a martyr’s resolve. “What does it matter? All I want is for Nate to be happy. For him to marry the woman he loved, I had to make sure Ethan and his family never made it to that wedding.” Her tone was chillingly pragmatic. “The crash… I admit it wasn’t handled perfectly. Ethan survived. But I corrected that mistake, didn’t I? I married him. His future is secure.” She paused. “As for this child, it can’t stay. Nate’s wife is already four months along. I will not let my baby become an obstacle to his. As long as Nate’s life is perfect, I’ll have no regrets.” “I’ll have Ethan take me to the clinic tomorrow for a check-up. I’ll get the doctor to say the fetus isn’t viable. He can’t argue with that, no matter how much it hurts him…” I couldn’t listen anymore. I stumbled back to our bedroom, my legs giving out as soon as I shut the door behind me. I slid to the floor, my body a dead weight. My marriage. My life. It was all a meticulously crafted lie. My parents’ death wasn’t an accident. My wife… the woman who held me through nightmares… was their killer. And now, she was planning to kill our child. After my parents died, I had drowned in self-blame. I believed my insistence on confronting Stella was the reason they were on that road. It was a guilt so profound it broke my mind. During the worst of my episodes, doctors had to strap me to the bed, because the moment I was free, I’d try to hurt myself, to claw my way out of a life I couldn’t bear. And through all of it, Annelise was there, whispering, “It wasn’t your fault, Ethan. It was a tragic accident.” It wasn’t an accident. It was proof of her love for another man. And now, to ensure Nate’s child would have an undisputed claim to the Prescott family fortune, she was willing to sacrifice her own. My parents’ bodies, my entire life, and soon, the life of my unborn child—all of it buried beneath the monument of her twisted devotion to Nate. My hands began to shake uncontrollably. I thought of just an hour ago, how I’d knelt and pressed my ear to her still-flat stomach, giddy with joy. The child I had prayed for for three years was in there. But it was also the child of my parents’ murderer. As I sat there, paralyzed by the horror, Annelise walked in and found me on the floor. “Ethan? Honey, what’s wrong? Get up, the floor is cold. Are you not feeling well?” The concern in her eyes was so potent it was almost tangible, identical to the look she’d given me every day for the past five years. She was a master of her craft. For five years, her entire world had seemingly revolved around me. If I so much as coughed, she’d stay up all night, a hand on my forehead. I dropped my gaze, unable to bear the sight of that fraudulent fire in her eyes. “I’m fine. Just… got a little light-headed. I guess the news about the baby finally hit me.” She breathed a sigh of relief, kneeling down to help me up with that familiar, gentle strength. “Oh, you,” she murmured, patting her own stomach. “Naughty baby, making your daddy fall down already. Just wait until we meet you, I’ll have a thing or two to say.” She smiled up at me. “Speaking of which, Ethan, come with me to the clinic tomorrow for a check-up. We’ve waited so long for this little one, we can’t take any chances.” Her gaze drifted down to her abdomen, her expression softening into a portrait of maternal love. If I hadn’t heard that phone call, I would have believed every word. I would have seen a loving wife, an expectant mother. Now, I saw only a monster. I wanted to scream the questions at her. Will we really get to meet this child? Did you ever want him at all? Instead, I swallowed the acid in my throat and nodded. “Let’s get some sleep, Annelise. I’m feeling tired.” She didn’t suspect a thing, nodding as she switched off the lights. I lay in the darkness, rigid, listening to her breathing even out beside me. Hours later, a soft murmur escaped her lips in the quiet of the room. “Nate… Oh, Nate…” A single, hot tear finally broke free, tracing a path from my eye into my hairline, and was gone. I slipped my phone from under the pillow, the screen a harsh glare in the dark. I sent a text to my sister in London. Kate, I need your help. Please, I need your help. I’m coming to you in a few days. Wait for me. 2 The next morning, Annelise took me to the private clinic affiliated with the Prescott Corporation. As we approached the doctor’s office, the door opened and Nate walked out. Seeing him alone, Annelise’s carefully composed face tightened with worry. “Nate? What are you doing here? Where’s Stella? Isn’t today her prenatal appointment? Are you sick?” Her questions tumbled out, her concern raw and undisguised. I had to laugh at myself. A bitter, silent laugh. How had I been so blind for so long? Was her acting that flawless, or was I just that stupid? A faint smile touched Nate’s lips, soaking in her worry like a sponge. “Things have been crazy at the office, a situation at one of the branches. I came in for a check-up, feeling a little run down. Stella’s staying at her parents’ for a few days.” He looked from her to me. “What about you? You’re not sick, are you?” Annelise flushed, a flicker of discomfort in her eyes. She seemed reluctant to answer. I decided to answer for her. Feigning a blissful smile, I placed a hand on her stomach. “She’s pregnant,” I said, my voice smooth. “I was worried about her, and the baby. Just wanted to get everything checked out.” I knew I had already lost this war, but for one single, fleeting moment, I wanted to reclaim a shred of my dignity. It worked. The color drained from Nate’s face. “What? You’re pregnant?” He quickly schooled his features, forcing a tight-lipped smile. “Well. A baby is wonderful news. I’m just… surprised. You should go on in.” Before she went into the exam room, Annelise told me she’d had to fast for some of the tests and hadn’t eaten breakfast. She asked me to go down to the cafe and grab her something, insisting she’d be fine on her own. A year ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice. Now, watching her back disappear into the clinic, a cold certainty settled in my gut. I bought a coffee and a croissant and came back up. As I expected, the exam room was empty. I walked down the hall and heard voices coming from a stairwell. I found them there, tucked away between floors. Nate’s brow was furrowed, his handsome face marred with displeasure. “You told me you would never have his child. Why are you pregnant?” Annelise wrapped her arms around his waist, reaching up to smooth the lines on his forehead with her thumb. Her voice was a placating murmur. “We were always careful. This was an accident, Nate. I’ll handle it. I’ll take care of this baby myself.” She soothed him. “Don’t be upset over something so small. It hurts me to see you unhappy.” My feet felt like lead as I walked back to the waiting area and sank onto a bench. Her words echoed in my head. Something so small. Killing her own child was a small thing. Nate’s unhappiness? That was the main event. “Why are you waiting out here?” Annelise’s voice pulled me from the fog. “I just ran to the restroom. Let me go ask the doctor if the results are ready.” I just nodded, watching her walk back into the office. A few minutes later, she emerged, her face a mask of sorrow. She knelt in front of me, bringing her eyes level with mine. “Ethan,” she began, her voice catching. “I have to tell you something. I need you to promise me you won’t get upset. Please, don’t fall apart.” “The test results… they’re not good. There are… developmental problems. So this baby… we can’t keep him.” I knew this was coming. I had heard the entire script. But a desperate, stupid part of me still hoped. I stared directly into her eyes. “Annelise, I’m only going to ask you this once. And I want you to tell me the truth.” She nodded solemnly, her expression one of deep sympathy. I took a breath. “Is there really something wrong with our baby? Are we really not going to have him?” 3 For a split second, a flicker of hesitation crossed her face. But before I could even process it, her voice, steady and firm, cut through the air. “Yes.” Looking into her unwavering eyes, I finally gave up the fight. I closed my own and gave a heavy, final nod. The moment I agreed, Annelise was a whirlwind of efficiency, arranging the procedure with the hospital staff. The Prescott family clinic was nothing if not effective. An hour later, she was being wheeled into an operating room. She was back in a private recovery room in less than thirty minutes. My gaze fell to her flat stomach. My throat burned. Yesterday, there was a life in there. Now, there was nothing. She noticed where I was looking. “Ethan, don’t be sad,” she said, her voice soft and consoling. “We’re still young. We’ll have another baby.” My heart seized in my chest. Will we? Annelise, will we really? Before I could speak, a cheerful voice cut in from the doorway. “Hey, don’t look so down, Ethan! The baby’s gone, but you still have Annelise.” It was Nate. “Look at how much she cares about you,” he continued, strolling into the room. “Fresh out of surgery, and her first thought is to comfort you. What a wife.” He feigned a wince, rubbing his temple. “You know, I’ve been having these headaches lately. I think I’ll check in for a couple of days, get a full workup. We can keep each other company.” I looked up at him, not missing the triumphant glint in his eyes. I barely knew Nate. I knew he and the Prescott sisters had grown up together, the classic childhood friends. They’d lost touch when he went to college overseas while they stayed in the States. I met Stella in college. It was immediate for me. I fell for her the first day I saw her and spent the next year trying to win her over. I knew from the start she had an ex, someone she’d broken up with because of the distance. But once we were together, Stella swore to me that Nate and his entire family were gone for good. That there was no chance they’d ever get back together. I believed her. Our relationship grew serious. She introduced me to her family and friends, including her older, more reserved sister, Annelise. And then came our wedding day. Stella got the call that Nate was back in the country, and she dropped me, dropped everything, to marry him instead. In that moment, I understood that in our four years together, she had never, for a single second, forgotten him. What I didn’t know was that Nate wasn’t just Stella’s long-lost love. In all the years Stella was waiting for Nate… Annelise had been waiting for him, too. I looked at him, standing there gloating, and my voice came out colder than I’d ever heard it. “You should call me brother-in-law.” 4 Nate froze. Annelise immediately jumped to his defense. “Ethan, he’s just trying to be friendly. Why do you have to be so difficult?” She sighed, a sound of pure exhaustion. “You know what, I’m not feeling well after the procedure. Why don’t you go home? You can handle some things at the office for me. I’ll call you tonight when you can come back.” Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, sucking the air from my lungs. Annelise is Stella’s sister. I am Annelise’s husband. Nate, as Stella’s husband, is my brother-in-law. It was a simple statement of fact. And for saying it, she was kicking me out. In front of Nate, she couldn’t even be bothered to keep up the pretense. I left. Hours passed. The sun went down. Annelise never called. Instead, a text from Nate lit up my phone. Annelise is having some abdominal pain. I rushed back to the hospital. As I neared her room, I heard it. A series of low, rhythmic moans that made the hair on my arms stand up. The door was cracked open just enough to see inside. And what I saw burned itself onto the back of my eyelids. Nate and Annelise, tangled together in the hospital bed, their bodies moving in a frantic, desperate rhythm. “Right here in the hospital,” Annelise panted, her voice thick with pleasure. “So thrilling.” Her pale arms were wrapped around his shoulders. “Not so fast,” she gasped. “Be gentle… I just had the surgery today.” Nate didn’t slow down. “Doesn’t that make it more exciting? Tell me you didn’t miss this.” As he spoke, he turned his head slightly. His eyes met mine through the crack in the door. And in that instant, I understood everything. Nate did this on purpose. He sent the text. He left the door open. He wanted me to see. I saw the taunting smile play on his lips. I lowered my gaze, reached out a steady hand, and gently, quietly, pulled the door shut for them. I had never seen that wild, unrestrained side of Annelise. In our three years of marriage, even in bed, she had always been tender, controlled, almost serene. Did she love him this much? Enough to risk her health, her body, just hours after a medical procedure? It turned out she wasn’t a cold person. The fire just wasn’t for me.

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Because my boyfriend, Jace, had… stamina, our sex life was adventurous. We were always trying new things. To get me to agree, he’d murmur the same promise: “The second you graduate, we’re getting married.” I believed him. So I overloaded on credits, busting my ass to graduate a year early. At night, I secretly studied everything I could find—new techniques, new positions—all to keep him satisfied. Until one night, I was studying late, missed my dorm’s curfew, and went to the bar to find him. I overheard him talking to his friends. “Jace, man, is your girlfriend really that wild?” “What, you think I’m lying?” Jace’s voice was slick with pride. “She’s a masterpiece. I trained her myself.” “What about Mia, then?” Jace took a long drag from his cigarette. His voice went soft. “She’s different. She’s… pure.” In that single second, I started to hate him. I went back to campus and called my professor. “That classified project you mentioned? I want in.” From this moment on, my life would have only one purpose. 1 “Professor, that opening on the Vanguard Project… I want it.” My professor paused, surprised. “Are you sure, Elara? Once you’re in, you’ll be in a secure facility. No contact with the outside world for at least five years.” “Last week you told me you were getting married as soon as you graduated.” I stood in front of my mirror, tracing the constellation of hickies across my collarbone. My smile was hollow. “Not anymore. From now on, I just want to serve my country.” Seeing my resolve, he didn’t argue. “The transport to the facility leaves in three days. You should take this time to say goodbye to your fiancé.” “You two are engaged, after all.” I nodded, looking down at the simple ring on my hand. My eyes burned. Yeah. We were engaged. My phone buzzed. A text from Jace. [Why aren’t you answering? Come out. I’m bored.] The address was the same bar. I didn’t reply right away. I opened my laptop, triple-checked my application, and clicked “submit.” Then, I went to meet him. 2 “What took you so long?” Jace was slouched on the sofa, annoyed by my lateness. “Couldn’t get an Uber. Had to wait.” I lied, moving to sit next to him. He caught my waist, his grip hard, and tugged me back. His voice was playful. “Up. That’s not your spot.” It was like a switch. The whole booth erupted in laughter. “Yeah, Elle, that’s not your spot,” Jace’s best friend, Mike, chimed in, his eyes full of sleazy amusement. “You don’t get to sit on the couch. You know where you go. Jace’s lap.” The others joined in, their voices thick with implication. “That’s right. Look around. All our dates are where they’re supposed to be.” I looked. He was right. Several of the guys in his crew had women perched on their laps, all of them in tiny dresses. As I watched, the men’s hands started to roam, and the sound of short, sharp breaths filled the air. Mike, while kneading the thigh of the woman in his lap, looked at me. “Don’t just stand there, Elle. Take care of our boy.” I said nothing. My heart felt like it had dropped into my stomach. I recognized these women. They were regulars here, known for leaving with different men every night. And I was Jace’s fiancée. At least, that’s what he called me. I touched the ring on my finger and looked at him. I was waiting for him to say something. To stop this. Jace didn’t even look at me. He just stared into his drink, pretending not to hear the humiliation in their voices. Finally, when the silence stretched, he let out an annoyed sigh and held out a hand. “They’re just messing around. Don’t take it seriously.” When I still didn’t move, he finally put on a show, shooting them a half-hearted glare before pulling me down next to him. “Alright, stop pouting. I’ll tell them to knock it off.” The party started up again. I sat stiffly in his embrace, my mind racing, trying to figure out how to break up with him. Suddenly, the door to the private room opened. Mia. Dressed in a white sundress, looking like an angel. “Jace?” Instantly, every guy in the booth shoved the women off their laps. Including Jace. He pushed me off his lap so fast I nearly stumbled. He was on his feet, walking over to Mia, and covering her eyes with his hand. His voice was all gentle concern. “Mia, sweetie, hang on. Let us clean up a little.” He shot a warning look at the others. “Get them out of here. I don’t want Mia seeing this.” The room scrambled. Windows were opened. The women were ushered out. Someone even flipped on the bright overhead lights, illuminating the whole room. It illuminated everything but the darkness in my chest. So this is what it looked like when Jace actually cared about someone. I’d lost my appetite. I stood up and walked toward the door. My movement caught someone’s eye. “Jace! Man, Elle’s still here.” Jace frowned, his first instinct to snap, “So? She’s used to it…” He caught himself, but it was too late. He awkwardly dropped his hand from Mia’s eyes. “Mia’s just a kid,” he said, trying to cover. “She hasn’t been around this stuff. She’s not like you.” I laughed. It was a dry, awful sound. He forgot. Mia is a year older than I am. But I wasn’t the one he cared about, so my feelings didn’t matter. I walked around them. Mia stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Elle, please don’t be mad,” she said, her voice a sweet, timid whisper. “I just came to return this.” She opened a velvet ring box. Inside was a diamond so large it looked fake. “I saw the ring on your hand, and I just mentioned that I wished I had one too…” she trailed off, glancing shyly at Jace. “I never thought Jace would remember. He just… he bought me this to cheer me up. He said it’s a custom design, the kind they only make one of. I felt so guilty, I had to come and give it back… to you.” She said give it back, but her hand was clamped around that box like a vise. I looked down at the plain, thin silver band on my own finger. I suddenly felt ridiculous. Two years. 730 days. And all I got was a $20 silver ring. In bed and out of it, I was cheap. I took two steps back, and for the first time in our relationship, I didn’t care about his “face.” I pulled the door open and left. The room behind me was silent, then someone let out a snort. “Who the hell does she think she is, walking out on Jace?” “Shut up!” Jace’s voice was sharp, furious. 3 It was 3 AM. The streets were empty. The wind was cold. I met Jace two years ago, working a catering gig. He told me he’d never met anyone so “pure.” He wanted a relationship that would last forever. I thought it was a joke. I turned him down, over and over. Until that New Year’s Eve. My stepfather, drunk, picked the lock on my bedroom door. I was terrified. I called Jace. It was a blizzard, but he came. He pulled me out of that hell and promised he would give me a home. I wanted a home so badly. In two years, he’d coaxed me into a hundred different fantasies, and with every one, he promised we’d get married. But we’d been “engaged” for six months, and I just now realized… other than this cheap ring, I’d never even met his family. Some engagement. Some love. Some… me. Tears blurred my vision. I yanked the ring off my finger and threw it into a storm drain. I’m done, Jace. I’m not marrying you. I had two days left. 4 The next morning, I was packing when Jace finally came home. He saw my suitcase and grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?” I didn’t look at him. “Finals are coming up. I’m moving back into the dorm.” His expression relaxed. He slid his arms around my waist from behind, his voice dropping to that familiar, husky tone. “How long? You know I can’t last long without you.” I used to love it when he talked to me like that. Now, it just made me want to throw up. I pulled out of his grip and kept packing. His eyes scanned the room and landed on my bare hands. His voice went cold. “Where’s your ring? Why aren’t you wearing it?” The rapid-fire questions almost made me flinch. “It got dirty. I took it off to clean it.” I don’t know if I imagined it, but he seemed… relieved. He laughed, a casual, dismissive sound. “If it’s dirty, just toss it. It wasn’t expensive. I’ll buy you a better one tomorrow.” Right. Not expensive. Two years ago, when he “proposed,” we were in a hotel room. After sex, I’d asked him, my voice raw, “Jace, are you ever going to marry me?” He’d stared at me for a second, then reached into his jeans, pulled out this plain silver ring, and slid it onto my finger. No flowers. No audience. No bended knee. And I was stupid enough to think it meant forever. It’s hilarious, really. I zipped the suitcase. As I went to the bathroom to wash my face, my phone buzzed. A social media tag. It was Mia’s feed. She’d posted a video of a proposal. In the shaky footage, Jace, encouraged by a cheering crowd, was on one knee, sliding that massive diamond ring onto her finger. The diamond flashed. It burned my eyes. I refreshed the page. The video was gone. Instead, a private message from her. [Elle, don’t be mad! It was just a joke we were playing last night!] [I don’t know why it tagged you, I’m so sorry! We were all agreeing not to tell you!] [You’re not mad, are you?] The taunts kept coming. Outside, Jace knocked on the bathroom door. “Elara? What kind of ring do you want? I’ll take you to pick one out tomorrow, okay?” The disconnect was so profound it felt like a physical knife, twisting in my already shredded heart. I took a shaky breath and called out. “Okay.”

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