Category: English

At our high school reunion, Rosalind, the former prom queen, posed a question to the women at our table. “After ten years of marriage, what would you do if you found out your husband was cheating?” Most of the women immediately said, “Divorce him!” Then, Rosalind’s gaze fell on me. I laughed and declared, “The only way I’m leaving my marriage is in a black dress.” Everyone chuckled at my dark humor, but Rosalind’s face went pale, a strange look clouding her eyes. … Seven days earlier, Rosalind had called me to organize this reunion. It had been nearly twenty years since we’d graduated, and the thought of seeing everyone again filled me with a giddy excitement. I have a problem: when I get excited, I can’t sleep. The first night, I tossed and turned, unable to settle down. My husband, Eason, drowsily wrapped an arm around me. “What’s wrong, honey?” “Rosalind is planning a high school reunion. I’m just too excited to sleep.” “You’re silly,” he murmured, gently patting my back like he was soothing our daughter. “Let’s count sheep together.” Under his calming touch, I finally drifted off. It’s no exaggeration to say that my husband was the gentlest, most understanding man in the world. Which is why, at the reunion, when Rosalind asked her question and I made my bold declaration, I felt completely secure. “The only way I’m leaving my marriage is in a black dress.” Everyone laughed. Everyone except Rosalind. I thought it was just a bit of party chatter. I had absolute faith in Eason. But for the rest of the night, I felt Rosalind’s eyes on me. Whenever I tried to meet her gaze, she would quickly look away. Later, I cornered her in the restroom. “Rosalind, we’ve known each other for years. If you have something to say, just say it.” She forced a laugh and denied anything was wrong, but I saw right through it. “Spit it out.” Her eyes met mine, her expression deadly serious. “You have to promise me you’ll stay calm.” A knot of dread tightened in my stomach, but I took a deep breath and nodded. Rosalind took out her phone and opened her photo gallery. The world exploded. It was like a landmine had gone off in my head. There were dozens of photos of Eason with different women. I’m not the jealous type; a simple group photo wouldn’t have bothered me. But these were different. The way he held them, the intimate poses—more intimate than any he ever struck with me—and the look in his eyes… it was pure, unadulterated lust. “These… who are…?” Seeing my confusion, Rosalind swiped to another picture with a bitter smile. “Look at this one.” It was a photo of her and Eason. Together. Rage erupted in my chest. The mistress was flaunting it right in my face. “He told me he was single!” Rosalind said quickly. “That bastard lied to me!” “Why should I believe you?” She showed me their chat history. It was a nauseating mix of sappy declarations, explicit flirtation, and financial transactions. “He said he was unattached. He took over a hundred thousand dollars from me, and I was living in a fantasy, dreaming of marrying him and having his kids. Then, one day, Sienna sent me a picture of his family—a picture of him with you—and I realized it was all a lie.” “Sienna? Who’s Sienna?” My head was spinning. “Another woman he scammed.” Anger, confusion… I hadn’t even processed Rosalind, and now there was a Sienna. I left the reunion without saying goodbye. I had to go home. I had to confront Eason. What had he been doing behind my back? How many women were there? Rosalind chased after me. “Cathy, don’t do anything reckless!” Reckless? If she weren’t an old classmate, I would have slapped her across the face. “Cathy!” She grabbed my arm. I violently shook her off. “Get your hands off me! Don’t you dare touch me!” Rosalind’s eyes immediately filled with tears. Playing the victim now, you hypocrite? I spat on the ground and jumped into a taxi, leaving her standing there. As the cab sped away, my mind raced. How should I confront him? How could I possibly unleash the hurricane of fury building inside me? Then, my phone rang. It was Eason. How dare that monster call me? I answered, ready to scream, but a soft voice came through the speaker. “Mommy, when are you coming home? I miss you.” My throat tightened, and tears burned my eyes. After ten years of marriage, I had finally been blessed with my daughter. My five-year-old Lily was my entire world. If I blew up my marriage, what would happen to her? If Eason was prepared for this, he could easily fight me for custody and win. My own words from earlier echoed in my mind. The only way I’m leaving my marriage is in a black dress. I swallowed the tears, my resolve hardening into something cold and sharp. I wouldn’t let Eason just walk away. For a monster like him, the only destination was hell. When I got home, Eason was as attentive as ever. He had my slippers ready and was drawing me a bath. On any other day, I would have melted and rewarded him with a kiss. Now, the sight of him made me want to vomit. He was a beautiful facade hiding a rotten core. “Honey, did you have too much to drink?” he asked, noticing my expression. He didn’t suspect a thing. To him, my forthright personality had always been as transparent as glass. His ability to be a philanderer on the streets and a saint in the home proved he was light-years ahead of me in the art of deception. No woman who discovers her husband’s betrayal can remain calm. It’s impossible. But what could I do? The only thing I could do was force myself to think clearly. I had already lost so much. I couldn’t afford to lose everything. I played along with his assumption, pretending to be drunk. I stumbled into the bathroom and made loud retching noises, letting the tears I’d been holding back finally stream down my face. “I need to shower,” I mumbled, pushing him out and locking the door. I turned on the water and sobbed until I was empty. Later, I curled up in bed with Lily and held her until she fell asleep. Eason quietly opened the door, tucked us in, and left as silently as he came. Everything had happened so fast. One moment, I was certain he was cheating. The next, seeing his familiar tenderness, a sliver of doubt crept in. Could the photos be fake? Rosalind and I hadn’t seen each other in over a decade. Why would she go to the trouble of organizing a reunion just to tell me she was sleeping with my husband? It felt like she had another motive. Was she trying to drive me away so she could take my place? It was certainly possible. Rosalind called again, saying she wanted to talk. “I don’t want to talk,” I said coldly. “If you think you can destroy my marriage with a few photos, you’ve picked the wrong person.” There was a long silence before she hung up. I sneered. Did she think her pretty face gave her a license to do whatever she wanted? Beauty is not a substitute for brains. But she didn’t give up. The next day, she showed up at my office. “Cathy!” she said, pulling me into her car before I could protest. “What the hell do you want?” I snapped. “Is wrecking my family some kind of game to you?” She didn’t say a word, just drove. We ended up in a part of town I’d never been to, a place throbbing with neon lights and pulsing music. Since getting married and especially since having Lily, my world had shrunk to a simple triangle: the office, home, and her preschool. I believed a married woman’s place was as a devoted wife and mother. Rosalind, clearly a regular here, led me to a discreet corner booth. “There’s going to be a show,” she said. “I need you to watch it, and I need you to stay calm.” It was a show, all right. I watched with my own eyes as Eason walked in with another woman, his hands all over her, their every move oozing with a practiced intimacy. “That’s Sienna,” Rosalind whispered, her eyes fixed on my face. “As far as we can tell, besides you, his wife, he has two other girlfriends: me and her.” Watching Eason’s sleazy performance, my mind flashed back to the gentle, caring man at home. The confusion was overwhelming. Should I believe Rosalind, or should I believe Eason was innocent? Ultimately, the three of us sat down together. Me, Cathy, Eason’s wife and a senior manager at a private firm. Rosalind, the owner of a chain of beauty salons, scammed out of her heart, her body, and her money. And Sienna, a wealthy heiress with two private hospitals in her family, who had suffered the same fate as Rosalind. The silence was thick with tension. Rosalind asked me again what I planned to do. As Eason’s legal wife, if I chose to forgive him, they would both walk away and let me try to save my marriage. “We were classmates, Cathy,” Rosalind said earnestly. “I want what’s best for you. Otherwise, I would have never told you any of this.” A bitter taste filled my mouth. My marriage needed a third party to salvage it. “We can back off,” Sienna said, her voice sharp. “But can you guarantee that bastard will change his ways and become a faithful husband?” Who could guarantee that? No one. And even if I saved this marriage, could I ever truly trust him again? Could I sleep next to a man whose body and soul were so thoroughly tainted? I couldn’t. But if I chose divorce, what would I be left with? The company I worked for—the company I had poured my heart and soul into for a decade—was legally registered under his aunt’s name. Eason was the silent owner. I had worked tirelessly, thinking I was building our future, only to realize he had planned this from the start, leaving me with nothing. Our house was in both our names, but what good was half a house? A divorce would leave me unemployed and homeless; Eason had the capital to easily buy out my half. Worst of all, I could lose Lily, the daughter I nearly died to bring into this world. A divorce would leave me with absolutely nothing. I sat in silence, the weight of my failure crushing me. Rosalind and Sienna were smart; they understood my predicament. Rosalind gently took my hand. “Cathy, don’t worry. We’re going to teach that bastard a lesson. Together.” My demand wasn’t greedy. I just wanted what was rightfully mine: a share of the profits I had generated for the company over the past ten years. Sienna scoffed. “Is that all? If it were me, I’d take back ten times what he stole.” I managed a weak smile. That was the difference between being married and just dating. For them, a breakup was the end of it. For me, I had Lily to consider. I couldn’t afford to burn everything to the ground and risk losing her in the process. They say three women are a drama waiting to happen. Our little play was about to begin. The company’s legal owner was Eason’s aunt. That meant in a divorce, I had no claim to it. But I had made that company millions, and I wasn’t walking away empty-handed. As the de facto boss, I knew every corner of the business, especially its finances. The first step was to not arouse Eason’s suspicion. So, I had Rosalind make an anonymous tip to the tax authorities, reporting the company for tax evasion. Soon enough, the auditors showed up.

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It was supposed to be my wedding day, but my fiancé, Cade, stood in front of the limousine, blocking my way. “I’m not here for you today.” I froze, completely lost, as his groomsmen erupted in laughter behind him. “Game over, boys,” Cade announced, a triumphant smirk on his face. “I won.” “Damn, Cade, you actually did it. You tamed the ice queen.” “Pay up,” Cade said to his friends. “Bet money and wedding gifts. I want every cent.” Then, my sister, Lily, appeared. She was wearing a wedding gown identical to mine. Cade took her hand and helped her into the limousine. The car sped away. I tried to run after it, but my family swarmed around me, forming a human cage. My brother, a top-tier actor, blocked my path. “Cade is in love with Lily. He’s marrying her. This is their wedding day, so you will behave.” My mother, a famous actress, clasped my hand. “Audrey, darling, your sister suffers from severe depression. She’s suicidal. Cade is the only one who can keep her stable. Just… let her have this.” My father, a billionaire tycoon, just snorted. “You’ve already had eighteen years of the life that should have been hers. Letting her have one man is the least you can do. It’s a bargain, really.” Then, they had their security drag me back to the house and lock me inside to prevent me from causing a scene at the hotel. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. In fact, I could barely contain the smile spreading across my face. 1 As the bodyguards shoved me into the mansion, a calm, digital voice echoed in my mind. Host, do you confirm you wish to exit this world via death? “Confirm.” Please select your method of death. “I want to leap from a building. I want to die right in front of Cade and the Blackwood family. I want to scar them for life.” Generating method of death… Method confirmed. Upon successful death, Host will be rewarded with one hundred million dollars. This selection cannot be changed. “Confirm.” This was my twenty-first year in this world, and the third year since Lily, the real heiress, had been found. I’m a transmigrator. In this life, I was the “fake” daughter of a billionaire, swapped at birth with my “sister,” Lily. I was an orphan in my previous life, so when I first arrived here, I thought I’d won the lottery. I had a loving mother and father, and a brother who protected me from everything. But that all shattered on my eighteenth birthday, the day my father brought Lily home. Now, every door and window in the mansion was locked. They’d posted guards to watch me. “Miss Audrey,” the housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, sneered, brandishing a baseball bat. “You’d best stay put. For your own good.” Her expression was menacing, like a wolf guarding a hen house. I took two steps toward the door, and a searing pain exploded in my leg as she swung the bat. I collapsed, crying out. “Miss Lily gave me specific instructions,” she said, looming over me. “If you misbehave, I am to break your legs.” Suddenly, she screamed at the top of her lungs. “She’s trying to escape! She’s going to ruin the wedding! Stop her!” Several burly security guards immediately advanced on me, clubs in hand. 2 I scrambled backward in terror. “What are you doing? I’m not running! You can’t just attack me!” “Oh, we know what you’re thinking, Miss Audrey,” one of them growled. “Even if you’re not running now, you will be later.” “It’s easier to just break your legs now,” Mrs. Gable added with a vicious smile. “That way, we know you won’t be crashing Miss Lily’s big day.” “My parents will hear about this!” I yelled, my voice shaking. “And what will they do?” she laughed. “I’ll just tell them you were trying to escape and fell from the second-story window. They won’t lift a finger.” “Do it!” They swarmed me, their clubs rising and falling. I heard the sickening crack of my own bones. My white wedding dress blossomed with crimson, a horrifying sight. But they didn’t stop. It was as if their goal wasn’t just to stop me, but to kill me. “If I die here today, the Blackwoods will destroy you!” I gasped. “You still think you’re their precious daughter?” Mrs. Gable spat. “You’re just some stray they took in by mistake! They wanted to throw you out the second they found Miss Lily. It was your brother who begged them to keep you. Said they could just treat you like a stray dog!” “Trying to steal Miss Lily’s fiancé? You don’t deserve to live!” A horrifying realization dawned on me, and I started to laugh, a broken, hysterical sound. “So this isn’t about the wedding. You’re trying to murder me.” “An accidental fall during an escape attempt… entirely plausible, don’t you think, Miss Audrey?” Panic seized me. I could die, but not like this. This wasn’t the death I had chosen. What if the system didn’t count it? What if I couldn’t go home? Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, I lunged forward, tackling the guard in front of me. I crashed into a small altar where my mother had lit a candle for Lily’s well-being. The candle tipped over, its flame instantly catching on the heavy drapery. The room went up in flames. “You little bitch! You set the house on fire!” In the chaos, I dragged my shattered body out of the mansion. The estate was covered in security cameras; they wouldn’t dare follow me past the gates. I stumbled onto the main road, a gruesome sight in my blood-soaked wedding dress, dragging my broken leg. I tried to hail a cab, but car after car swerved around me, the drivers horrified. Finally, a young woman pulled over, her eyes wide with concern. “Oh my god, do you need help?” I begged her to take me to the hotel. The hotel was owned by my father; the staff all knew me. The security guards and front desk clerks stared in shock but didn’t dare stop me. When I reached the entrance to the grand ballroom, my family was there, greeting guests with brilliant, happy smiles. The moment they saw me, those smiles froze and shattered. 3 This was the wedding of the year, crawling with reporters. The second they saw me, a frenzy of camera flashes blinded me. My brother stalked toward me. “What are you doing here?” he hissed. “Useless guards, can’t even watch one girl! Look at you! Did you do this to yourself just to ruin this for us? Is this how desperate you are for a headline?” My mother rushed over, her face a mask of worry. “Audrey, what happened? Is that… is that blood on your dress?” “Yes, it’s blood. My blood. Lily’s people beat me half to death. I barely escaped.” My father slapped me, hard. The taste of copper filled my mouth. “You shameless brat! You just can’t stand to see your sister happy, can you?” My mother grabbed my arm. “Audrey, you said Lily’s people did this?” My brother pulled her away. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s paint. She’s always been a drama queen, pulling stunts for the cameras!” He seized my wrist and started to drag me away. I stumbled and fell. As I hit the marble floor, my broken leg was exposed to everyone. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. The bone of my shin had pierced the skin, a jagged white shard against the bloodied flesh. I had dragged myself here on that leg. A normal person would have passed out from the pain. But the system, in its mercy, had activated a pain-dampening protocol. I felt nothing. My mother covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “Audrey… oh god, you’re so badly hurt!” For a second, I saw a flicker of pity in my father’s eyes. “How did you let this happen to yourself?” Even my brother, who had been spitting venom just moments before, was speechless. Cade pushed through the crowd and saw me lying there. “Audrey?” I lifted my blood-streaked face to look at him. “Perfect timing. I have a few questions for you.” Lily arrived, a vision of angelic purity in her white gown, her face stained with tears. “Audrey, this is the most important day of my life. Must you destroy it?” she sobbed, her body trembling. “Why do you hate me so much? You’ve already stolen everything that was mine! All I wanted was Cade! Can’t you just let us be happy?” My brother reached for me. “I’ll take you to the hospital.” “Brother!” Lily’s voice was a desperate wail. “The ceremony is about to start! You’re leaving?” She looked at me, her eyes full of poison. “This is just one of her tricks. Do you really believe I would do this to my own sister?” My brother dropped my hand as if it were on fire. “Audrey, you are sick,” he spat. “To frame your own sister, you would mutilate yourself like this. Go to the hospital on your own. And don’t worry, the Blackwood family has no use for a cripple. We’ll pay for the best doctors to fix your leg.” I knew then that nothing I could say would matter. I gritted my teeth and pulled myself to my feet. “I just have a few things to say. Then I’ll go.” My eyes found Cade. “Our entire relationship… it was just a bet with your friends, wasn’t it? You never had any real feelings for me. Yes or no?”

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Only after they conspired to kill me did I learn that Stella Randell hated me to her core. It didn’t matter that I had funded her for years, throwing money and resources at her, giving her the best life imaginable. In her mind, I had used my wealth and power to blackmail her, to tear her away from her first love. When I opened my eyes again, Stella was throwing my credit card on the ground, her gaze cold and proud. This time, I simply said, my voice flat and detached: “If that’s how you feel, then the sponsorship ends now.” 1 The credit card landed with a sharp clatter at my feet. “Why are you here again?” The girl’s voice was laced with pure annoyance. I followed the sound, my gaze locking onto Stella across from me. Her face was a delicate, porcelain mask, but there was an undisguised chill in her eyes. Seeing my silence, Stella’s friends grew bolder, their teasing loud and unrestrained. “Come on, Stella, Louis is head over heels for you. Just give the guy a chance!” “I heard he gives her a six-figure monthly allowance. What a show-off—” “But Stella’s gorgeous and a top student. She has tons of guys after her. Money isn’t everything.” “Exactly. Besides, Stella doesn’t care about materialistic things like that.” … In the center of the group, Stella tilted her chin up arrogantly. “Louis, can you please stop with your condescending charity? I’m busy. I don’t have time to entertain a rich kid like you. Besides, I have my own two hands. I don’t need to depend on anyone!” The girl before me was defiant, speaking the exact same lines I remembered from my past life. Only now did I finally believe it. I was reborn. 2 In my previous life, I didn’t just pay for Stella’s college education; I sent her abroad for her post-grad, helping her achieve her dream of becoming a research scientist. Even though she was always cold toward me, I brushed it off as her being fiercely independent, a byproduct of her strong pride. It wasn’t until she returned, famous and successful, that she got me drunk and tricked me into signing a fraudulent contract. The vast Croft family fortune vanished overnight. Not long after I went bankrupt, I had a car accident. In my final moments, she leaned close, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “Louis, the doctors say you won’t make it through the night. Good. Leo made sure to have your brakes tampered with. “And don’t you dare call me cruel. If you hadn’t used my future to threaten me, Leo and I wouldn’t have wasted all these years apart. What could you ever give me besides money? Only Leo could give me real love. “You can die in peace now. Without you, Leo and I will be perfectly happy together.” Her gaze grew colder, and my breath hitched in my chest. As my consciousness faded, I could vaguely see her smiling, wrapped in Leo’s arms, a tenderness in her eyes I had never once seen directed at me. I closed my eyes for the last time, my heart filled with rage and bitter regret. 3 My thoughts snapped back to the present. I lowered my gaze and bent down to pick up the credit card. “Louis, just give it up,” a clear male voice cut in. “No matter how much money you throw at her, it doesn’t mean she’ll ever want you.” I looked at the young man standing next to Stella. He was tall and lean, a taunting smile playing on his lips. Leo. Stella’s classmate. The two of them were always “studying” together at the library. I had warned Stella about him multiple times, but she just sneered that I was possessive and had a dirty mind. In my past life, after I sent Stella overseas, I thought they had finally lost contact. Now I realized they had probably been in touch the entire time. But I never forced them apart. If she had just been honest with me back then, there’s no way in hell I, Louis Croft, would have willingly been played for a fool. Stella let out a cold scoff. “Did you hear that? Stop wasting your time. I’m never going to take your money!” A smirk touched my lips. The next moment, under the shocked gazes of everyone present, I snapped the credit card in half and tossed the pieces into a nearby trash can. When I turned back, jaws were hanging open all around me. I looked at Stella, my voice devoid of emotion. “There was twenty thousand dollars on that card. It was for that overseas exchange program you wanted to join. But since you’re so high and mighty, I guess you don’t need it. “I’d rather throw it away than give it to you.” 4 Stella froze for a few seconds, her face flushing a deep crimson before she managed to compose herself. “What kind of game are you playing now? I never asked you for anything! This was all your own idea! And I hate your filthy rich attitude more than anything. You think just because you have some money, you can run my life? You’re pathetic!” Her best friend quickly chimed in, finding her voice. “Yeah! Stella can’t stand guys who reek of money.” “Money isn’t everything, Louis. Maybe you should try reading a book sometime. How else are you going to have anything in common with someone like Stella?” “She’s brilliant and beautiful. I heard she’s going to study at a top university abroad. One day, you really won’t be good enough for her!” Watching Stella stand there, her expression growing more conceited by the second, I suddenly remembered the first time we met. Back then, she was sallow and painfully thin, dressed in a wrinkled shirt, looking lost and helpless. She came from a single-parent home, and her mother was gravely ill. She was about to drop out of school to work and pay the medical bills. At that critical moment, she heard that Croft Industries sponsored gifted students from low-income families and came to us for help. She stood before my parents with a ramrod straight spine, vowing to repay our kindness tenfold. She was pretty, and the way her eyes reddened as she spoke not only won my parents’ sympathy but also stirred something in me. In just a few short years, she had transformed from a malnourished, impoverished student into a little princess draped in luxury brands. Not only that, but she had become arrogant and condescending, constantly belittling me. Thinking of how it all ended, my gaze turned to ice. “If you despise it so much, then consider the sponsorship terminated. The Croft family has done more than enough for you.” 5 Before Stella could speak, her friend jumped in. “Hey! Are you really going to hold a grudge just because we said a few things? How petty can a guy be?” I used to have a crush on Stella, and by extension, I was generous with her friends, often giving them expensive little gifts. Over time, I had bred a pack of greedy, ungrateful vultures who had lost all respect for me. The thought filled me with disgust, and I regretted being their fool for so long. “Get lost.” My cold stare made her flinch and shrink back. Stella’s face was a mask of humiliation, but she forced herself to speak. “Louis, why are you taking it out on my friend? Don’t think you can threaten me with money. I don’t care! And you’d better keep your word and never bother me again!” She glared at me with such loathing you’d think I had committed some unforgivable crime against her. Seeing her so agitated, Leo gently rubbed her back, shooting a smug, challenging look over her shoulder at me. In my last life, Stella would deny her relationship with Leo while keeping me at arm’s length, knowing it would make me jealous and insecure. Now, I couldn’t wait for them to be chained together, as long as they stayed the hell away from me. “Fine. I’m a man of my word.” With that cold parting shot, I turned and walked away. 6 That afternoon, I called my assistant, Hayes. “Starting today, stop all payments to Stella Randell’s accounts. The sponsorship is over.” Hayes, who was usually the picture of calm professionalism, looked utterly shocked. Before he could respond, I continued. “Change the locks on the villa in the Hills. She is not to be permitted entry. Also, she’s no longer allowed to run a tab at any Croft-owned businesses. If she can’t pay, have her thrown out. Oh, and cut off her mother’s medical expense coverage.” The look on Hayes’s face shifted from shock to profound relief. He nodded eagerly. “Right away, sir.” In the past, no matter how many times he had warned me about Stella, I had never listened, even finding him bothersome. Now, I couldn’t get her away from me fast enough. Experience is a brutal teacher, but you only need to learn its lessons once. He was about to leave when I stopped him. “Hayes, wait.” He paused, a questioning look in his eyes. I opened the drawer of my desk. Just as I expected, a beautiful jewelry box was sitting inside. It held a diamond necklace. In my last life, I gave it to Stella for her birthday. She’d called my taste tacky before reluctantly accepting it. At the memory, I simply handed the box to Hayes. “This is for you.” He was stunned for a moment, then immediately tried to refuse. “If you don’t want it, I’m just going to throw it away.” I dangled the box over the trash can. After a moment of hesitation, Hayes took the necklace, his face filled with genuine gratitude. Now that I thought about it, Stella’s birthday was coming up soon. Her good life was officially over. 7 After confirming the cancellation of the sponsorship, I had dinner with my parents and told them everything. My mother paused, a bit taken aback. “Louis, you used to talk about her constantly. Are you sure about this?” I nodded firmly. “An ungrateful person doesn’t deserve the Croft family’s support. Since she feels like our money is an insult to her, let her learn to stand on her own two feet.” My father considered this for a moment, then spoke slowly. “Alright. It’s your decision. I’ll have Hayes draw up a new list of candidates for the sponsorship.” With that settled, the mood at the table lightened considerably. In my past life, Stella constantly complained to me, convincing me that my parents looked down on her because she was poor, and she actively drove a wedge between us. After I went bankrupt, it was my aging parents who ran themselves ragged trying to bail me out. The stress caused my father’s heart condition to relapse, and my mother lived in a constant state of anxiety. In the end, there was no miracle. There was only the news of their son’s death. But this time, I would protect my family. As for the debts Stella owed, I would collect them, one by one. 8 On the way home, my restaurant manager sent me a security video from the downtown steakhouse, one of my father’s properties. In the video, Stella stood surrounded by a group of classmates, speaking condescendingly to a waiter. “My name is Stella Randell. I know your manager, Mr. Reed.” Her friends chimed in. “Stella never has to pay when she comes here. It’s basically her family’s restaurant.” “Why would you pay for your own birthday party at your own place?” “Exactly. Even Mr. Reed listens to her. You’d better think carefully before you answer.” Leo scoffed. “You must be new here if you don’t even know that.” The waiter wavered but held his ground. “I’m sorry, I am new, but our restaurant policy doesn’t allow for running a tab. Mr. Reed is out of town and didn’t mention any exceptions.” Stella frowned, clearly annoyed. “You’re ruining the mood. I’m going to have you fired for this.” She let out a huff and started texting Mr. Reed, holding her phone up for everyone to see as if she owned the place. But the moment she sent the message, a glaring red exclamation mark appeared on the screen. Visible. Undeniable. I looked at my driver, who had undoubtedly heard the entire video. “Change of plans. Take me to the downtown steakhouse.” “Yes, sir,” he replied, his voice calm. As the city lights blurred past the window, my expression darkened. This was going to be a birthday Stella Randell would never forget.

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Right before Thanksgiving break, I stumbled onto a post on our college’s subreddit: [Title: AITA for wanting my childhood friend to give me his concert tickets?] The post was about a trip to Savannah. The OP wanted to go with her best friend, but the last two tickets were bought by her childhood guy friend and his girlfriend. I scrolled through the comments, and they were piling up fast. [Top Comment]: > “Dude, it’s his childhood bestie, he should totally let her have them. Bros before… you know.” [OP’s Reply]: > “Ugh, I know, right? But I’m worried his girlfriend will flip out. She’s… let’s just say she’s super possessive.” [Another Comment]: > “Sounds like the perfect test of loyalty! If he picks his GF over you, then you know where you stand. Drop him.” The OP shot back immediately: [OP’s Reply]: > “No way, he’d never do that. We’ve known each other for almost twenty years, we were basically inseparable growing up. He’ll always have my back!” … I frowned, scrolling down. The OP’s tone felt weirdly familiar. Just then, a text message popped up on my screen. It was from my boyfriend, Ryan. [Ryan]: “Hey babe, change of plans for Thanksgiving. Forget Savannah… what do you think about a road trip to Texas?” 1 The day before break, my roommate and I had just gotten back from a vintage shop downtown. I’d found the perfect sundress for walking through the historic streets of Savannah and couldn’t wait to show Ryan. I was fresh out of the shower, about to FaceTime him, when I saw that Reddit post. Since Ryan and I had already—after weeks of waiting on a notification list—snagged tickets for a popular Savannah ghost tour, my curiosity was piqued. I kept reading. [Comment]: > “Wait, are you seriously asking him to cancel his trip with his girlfriend for you?” [Another Comment]: > “I mean, maybe they can talk it out. What if she didn’t even want to go to Savannah that bad?” [Reply]: > “It’s the day before a major holiday break. Who in their right mind cancels a sold-out trip at the last minute? No one.” Ryan and I had practically prayed for those tickets to come through. I couldn’t agree more, so I upvoted the comment. As I did, I noticed the OP had upvoted the comment right below it. [Comment]: > “It’s an unspoken rule. The childhood friend card trumps everything. Just ask him for the tickets, straight up.” [Reply]: > “Seriously! My guy friend and I are the same way. I suddenly wanted to go to Miami for Spring Break last year, but flights were sold out. I called him, laid on the charm, and he canceled the tickets he’d bought for his entire frat group. Me and my sorority sisters snatched them right up. They treat me like a queen now lol.” The sheer audacity of that comment was flooring. It was quickly becoming the most controversial one on the thread. [Reply to the Reply]: > “That’s next-level evil. And you’re proud of it?” [Reply to the Reply]: > “Hope your ‘guy friend’ didn’t get his ass kicked by his frat brothers.” I was getting secondhand rage just reading it, upvoting every single comment calling her out. But then I saw the OP had replied just a few minutes ago: [OP’s Reply]: > “Well, the main issue is his girlfriend getting mad. She’s… ugh… so petty. I accidentally took a sip from his water bottle in front of her once and she threw a fit, threatened to break up with him. It was a whole drama scene. So annoying.” She followed it up with a cat-sipping-tea meme. [Reply to OP]: > “Girl, that just means you have all the power. What’s she gonna do when she finds out you were his first kiss? She’ll probably explode.” [OP’s Reply]: > “OMG for real! We were each other’s first everything back in middle school. He’d never pick her over me.” [Reply to OP]: > “Then go get your tickets, girl! What are you waiting for?~” I felt sick to my stomach by the end of the thread. I remembered my boyfriend’s childhood friend, Hailey, had that same entitled way of talking to him. I was about to screenshot the whole disaster and send it to Ryan for a laugh when his text came through first. [Ryan]: “Hey babe, change of plans for Thanksgiving. Forget Savannah… what do you think about a road trip to Texas?” 2 My heart dropped. The Reddit post flashed in my mind. I deleted the screenshots I was about to send. Then I remembered Ryan swearing up and down that I was his first real love, his first everything that mattered. I’d even jokingly confirmed it with his friends. The doubt subsided, just a little. [Me]: “Why? You know how excited I was for Savannah. I even bought a new dress for it.” I sent him the picture my roommate had taken of me at the shop earlier. I have a curvy figure, and the sundress fit me perfectly. Ryan had always been vocal about how much he loved my body. The three dots appeared, then disappeared. He was hesitating. For a long moment, there was nothing. Finally, a new text came in. [Ryan]: “You know I’m from Texas, babe. I want to show you where I grew up. Besides… my parents really want to meet you.” I frowned at my phone. Ryan and I had met online, in a group chat for incoming freshmen. I was into his abs and his deep voice; he was into my face and my figure. We both thought it would just be a casual hookup. But then we ended up in the same English class, and during freshman orientation week, he was so sweet and protective. He stood up for me when a drill sergeant-wannabe orientation leader was giving me a hard time, and he was always showing up with cold water and a portable fan. I fell for him, hard. The only downside? Hailey. His clingy childhood best friend. But even with her buzzing around, we’d only been dating a few months. We were nineteen. It was way too soon to meet the parents. [Me]: “Meeting your parents is a big step. Why don’t you just tell them I’ll visit some other time? We’re going to Savannah.” In the few months we’d been together, Ryan had been pretty agreeable to whatever I wanted, so I didn’t even consider he’d say no. I put my phone down and started packing. When I picked it up again, my blood ran cold. [Ryan]: “About that… babe, I already canceled the tickets. I bought us two bus tickets to Texas instead. If you don’t want to go, I guess we’ll just have to stay on campus.” 3 The Savannah tour tickets had gone on sale at 8:30 AM. I was in a chem lab at the time and couldn’t use my phone, so I’d left it all to Ryan. When he couldn’t get them, he put us on the waitlist. I never imagined he’d cancel them on his own. A knot of anger tightened in my stomach. Something felt very, very wrong. I went back to the Reddit thread. The original post had been edited half an hour ago. [EDIT]: “Update: Talked to him and we got the tickets! To everyone in the comments hating, you’re probably just jealous you don’t have a guy best friend who adores you~” I scrolled down and saw the angry comments I’d upvoted had all been deleted by the OP. My eyes landed on her comment about drinking from his water bottle. Suddenly, a memory from a month ago clicked into place. I’d seen Hailey drink from Ryan’s water bottle. It was during a campus-wide scavenger hunt, and Ryan’s excuse was that Hailey and her friend had run out of water and were desperate. I was thirsty and miserable too, so I let it slide with a fake pout. I never thought it wasn’t a one-time thing. It was just one of many times, and the only one I happened to witness. Thank God I’m not the type to share drinks. The thought of his childhood friend’s mouth on the same bottle that I might have drunk from was disgusting. Every piece fit. I’m not the kind of person who lets things go. I act. Immediately, I screenshotted everything and fired them off to Ryan. [Me]: “Is this Hailey’s post? So not only did you give her our tickets, but you two were each other’s ‘first everything’? What happened to swearing on your mother’s life that I was your first love? Did you forget that part?” 4 The silence from his end was deafening. Just as I was about to storm over to his dorm, my roommate grabbed my arm. “Chloe, have you seen Hailey’s Instagram? That photo she just posted… it looks exactly like the one I took of you today.” She paused. “And, uh… Ryan liked it.” Hailey was our class president, so almost everyone in our year followed her. I’d never liked her vibe, so we didn’t even follow each other. I snatched my roommate’s phone. It was a classic nine-photo grid. The caption was a lyric from some indie song: “The sky waits for the rain, and I wait for you.” The grid had a screenshot of the Savannah tour confirmation, some aesthetic photos of Savannah’s cobblestone streets, and right in the center, a familiar picture of a girl in a sundress. It was my picture. The one I had just sent to Ryan. Except my face was blurred out, leaving only my body on full display. Practically our entire class had liked it. The comments were mostly from guys. [Comment]:- “Damn Hailey, didn’t know you were hiding all that.” [Comment]:- “Filters doing God’s work lol. Jk jk, you’re a total smoke show! Btw, can we get an extension on that poli-sci paper? I’m dying over here.” [Comment]:- “Whoa, when did you stop wearing your usual edgy stuff? This look is so different for you.” That last comment made my stomach clench. I scrolled down her feed. And there it was. A whole collection of familiar outfits. Because I’m a bit reserved in person but still wanted to feel confident, I’d bought a bunch of trendy, “hot girl” outfits. I rarely wore them out, but I always took pictures for Ryan. Only for Ryan. And he had turned around and given every single one of them to Hailey to post as her own. I saw his username liking every post, commenting “Gorgeous 🔥” under each one. A white-hot rage shot through me. My roommate saw the look on my face. “Chloe… please don’t tell me she’s using your photos to catfish someone or something.” Her voice was laced with worry. “And Ryan… why would he help her do that?” “I’m going to his dorm right now,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. I grabbed my jacket. Then, on an impulse, I shot a text to my own childhood best friend, Jax. His dad had just donated a new library to the university, and he had a whole crew of biker wannabes who followed him everywhere. [Me]: “Get off your damn bike and get back to campus. I’ve got two people who need a reality check.” Hey, who said only guys could have a ride-or-die childhood friend? 5 Ryan came down from his dorm pretty quickly. He’d just showered; a white towel was slung around his neck, and his dark hair was still wet. “Babe, listen, I wasn’t trying to lie to you,” he started, holding his phone up like a shield. “I just know how girls can be about exes and firsts, and I didn’t want you to get upset. I was with Hailey in the study lounge when the ticket notification came through. She grabbed my phone and canceled them. It was her. If you’re mad, I’ll make her switch them back, okay?” I didn’t believe a word he was saying. But it was getting dark, and his dorm was in a more isolated part of campus. I’m just a girl; Ryan was pure muscle. He might act easygoing, but I’d seen his temper. During orientation week, he’d gotten into a fight with three upperclassmen who were hazing freshmen and laid all of them out, not caring about the consequences. Until Jax got here, I needed to play it cool. I kept my voice even. “If Hailey can just grab your phone and do whatever she wants, then I guess nothing of mine is safe with you. That debit card I lent you? I want it back. Now.” I held out my hand. I’m an only child, and my parents spoil me rotten. They’d transferred my entire four-year college fund—fifty thousand dollars—onto a debit card for me. Ryan came from a low-income, single-parent family. Two weeks ago, his mom was diagnosed with cancer and needed emergency surgery. They couldn’t raise the money, so he came to me. Not knowing the exact cost and not wanting to delay her treatment, I just gave him the card. But after the surgery, he never mentioned giving it back. I figured there were still bills for medicine and hospital stays, so I didn’t push it. Now that we were breaking up, I wanted it back. At the mention of the card, Ryan’s face changed. “Do you need it right now?” His hesitation confirmed my worst fear. My voice shot up, the anger finally breaking through. I swung my purse and hit him squarely on the head. “Don’t tell me you gave the card to Hailey! Ryan, are you her freaking dog?!” His strength was way more than mine. He easily grabbed my wrists, his brow furrowed. “You hadn’t asked for it back in weeks,” he said, his tone turning accusatory. “Hailey mentioned she wanted to buy a few things, so I let her borrow it. Don’t worry, she’s really frugal. She survives on like, two hundred bucks a month from her parents. She wouldn’t waste your money.” That last part sounded like he was calling me spoiled and petty. I almost laughed. “Ryan, that card was a loan. To you. What right do you have to give my money to someone else? And Hailey lives on two hundred a month? Is that why she’s constantly posting designer makeup hauls on her Instagram story?” I pulled up the screenshots my roommate had sent our group chat, where we’d been complaining about Hailey’s obvious lies, and shoved the phone in his face. I used to wonder how Hailey, who supposedly grew up as poor as Ryan, could afford such a lavish lifestyle. Now I knew. She was funding it with my money.

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Returning early from abroad to surprise my sister Nina, I found the house empty. Then I spotted a piece of her dress through the bars of a locked dog cage by the garden gate. Fumbling with the latch, I flung the door open to find Nina curled into a ball inside the cramped, one-square-meter doghouse. “Why are you sleeping here?” I asked, stunned. “Come out; I brought your favorite cream puffs.” “No! Cream puffs are for the Master. Puppies aren’t worthy. Puppies only eat kibble,” she frantically shook her head. My stepmother Brenda’s voice slithered from behind. “Nina finds school too hard. She says being a dog is more comfortable. It was her idea to live here.” I turned. Brenda, heavily pregnant, wore the two halves of the Vance family crest around her neck – the symbol of our family’s power, belonging to Nina and me. Noticing my gaze, she patted her belly with a smirk. “It’s a boy. So I get Nina’s half of the crest, and yours too.” A dark smile touched my lips. She didn’t know our father had married in and lost the ability to have children the year Nina was born. 1 The second daughter of the Vance family, who should have been living a life of pampered luxury, was chained in the yard like an animal. The sight of the iron chain around my sister’s neck sent a blade of ice through my heart. No wonder she hadn’t contacted me once in the three years I’d been away. Every time I asked my father, he’d brush me off, saying her studies were too demanding. Nina’s bedroom had long been taken over. The villa had been redecorated, every trace of my mother’s presence erased. I helped Nina out of the cage, brushing the dust from her clothes. The dress she wore was one I’d given her three years ago. It was now tattered and torn, barely covering her. I took off my own jacket and draped it over her small shoulders. “Brenda, you dare treat the daughter of the Vance family like this? Do you have a death wish?” “Is that any way to talk to your mother!” My father, Mark, appeared behind Brenda, flanked by a group of men I didn’t recognize. Their eyes raked over me, dripping with malice. “My mother is dead,” I snapped. “That thing is nothing.” “Sloane! Brenda is my wife, which makes her your mother and the lady of this house! Apologize to her this instant, or you are no longer my daughter!” “A backwoods housekeeper who slept her way into this house is worthy of being my mother? And you, Mark, have you forgotten whose name this family carries?” My mother was the 75th Matriarch of the Azure Syndicate, a woman who commanded respect in every circle, legal and illicit. She held the Azure Crest, the key to commanding eight thousand chapters across the continent. A woman born to rule, who had, for some inexplicable reason, fallen for a man like my father. She had threatened her own life to get her family’s approval for him to marry in. My sister and I both took our mother’s name, Vance. My mother split her Azure Crest in two, giving one half to me and the other to Nina, warning us never to use its power unless absolutely necessary. Then, a sudden illness took her from us. My father claimed a young child needed a mother’s care and brought his childhood sweetheart from his backwater hometown to “help.” “When I agreed to let Brenda in this house, it was as a nanny, not as its mistress!” Mark’s hand cracked across my face. “I’m in charge now! If you don’t like it, you can get the hell out!” I clutched my stinging cheek. “Don’t you forget, you’re living in a villa my mother bought before she ever met you. This is Vance property. If anyone’s getting out, it’s you and her!” “I’ve been too soft on you!” He raised his hand again, but Brenda stopped him with a sickeningly sweet display of concern. “That’s enough, darling. She’s just a child, she doesn’t know any better. I won’t hold it against her.” She turned her saccharine smile on me. “Sloane, dear, it’s not that I’ve been cruel to your sister. She’s the one who finds school too tiring. She wants to live like a dog.” “Of course, I didn’t want her living in a kennel. She threw terrible tantrums about it.” “She went on a hunger strike when I refused. I had no choice but to let her have her way. If you don’t believe me, ask your father. Or ask Nina herself.” Mark snorted. “Nina is a disgrace. She’d rather be a dog than go to school. A child with no ambition is no daughter of mine!” Nina tugged on my sleeve, her voice a dry rasp. “Sister, I don’t like school. I like being a dog. I like the kennel.” “I’m a puppy. Woof, woof.” “You are not a dog! You are a human being!” My eyes swept the grounds. None of the old staff were here. The butler, the maids, the bodyguards—all replaced with these hostile strangers who watched me like vultures. “I don’t care what happened before. But I’m back now, and my sister will not be your pet!” Brenda’s fake smile never wavered. “Well then, Sloane, perhaps you should be the one to discipline her from now on. We certainly can’t.” She picked up a rubber ball from the ground and tossed it across the lawn. Instantly, Nina dropped to all fours and scrambled after it. She snatched the ball with her teeth and trotted back, dropping it into Brenda’s outstretched hand. Brenda threw it again. As Nina started to chase it, I grabbed her and pulled her to her feet. “Nina! You are a person, not a dog! You walk on two legs! You hold things with your hands! Promise me, you won’t act like a dog anymore, okay?” Nina just shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. “No, I’m a puppy. I like being a puppy.” Brenda laughed, a loud, ugly sound, dangling the ball in her hand. “Want to play again?” Nina’s tongue lolled out, and she panted excitedly. “Yes! Yes!” “ENOUGH!” I rounded on Mark. “Mom told you to take care of Nina before she died. This is how you take care of her!” He just shrugged. “It’s not my fault if she has no self-respect.” “Get the key and take that chain off her neck!” No one moved. I glared at the staff. “Are you all deaf!” “Go get the key,” Brenda said calmly, and only then did someone move. It was clear I held no authority here. The moment the chain was unlocked, Nina was overcome with panic. She hunched over, trying to crawl back into the kennel. “I don’t live in the house! I’m a puppy! I have to stay in the cage!” I wrapped my arms around her. “Nina, don’t be afraid. I’m taking you to a doctor right now.” There was no time to even change her clothes. I rushed her to the hospital. The examination revealed a horror story. Beyond the severe psychological trauma, her body was a canvas of abuse. Clusters of old and new injuries covered her chest and back, conveniently hidden by her clothes. The doctor said she’d been whipped and beaten with rods. There were large, scarred-over burns. Several ribs had been broken and healed improperly. There was even evidence of trauma to her skull. Listening to the doctor’s detached report, I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. These people were monsters. I held Nina close. “It’s okay, Nina. I’m here now. I’ll protect you. No one will ever hurt you again.” When we returned to the villa, Brenda was waiting, her pregnant belly leading the way. “Sloane, dear. Your half of the Azure Crest. It’s on you, isn’t it?” My luggage was in the living room, torn open and its contents strewn across the floor. “Who gave you permission to touch my things!” “Sloane,” my father said, “give your mother your half of the crest. She’s carrying your little brother. The family business will be his to inherit now.” I laughed in his face. “The Azure Syndicate values bloodline above all else. Only the Vance line can lead it. And you think the bastard in her belly is worthy of even being considered a successor?” Mark’s face turned a sickly green. “How dare you! That is your brother, not a bastard!” “She knows the truth.” Brenda leaned against Mark, her voice trembling with manufactured hurt. “Your father is the only man I’ve ever been with. How could you say such a vile thing?” “Apologize to your mother!” Mark roared. I ignored him, pulling Nina with me toward the stairs. He continued to shout at my back. “After your mother went to all the trouble of having your room specially prepared! She even got your favorite fruits! Is this how you repay her?” I got Nina inside my room and slammed the door, locking him out. I could hear him yelling for the guards to drag me out, but Brenda’s sickly-sweet voice eventually calmed him down. I gave Nina a bath, dressed her in fresh clothes, and sat with her until she finally drifted off to sleep. Only then did I allow myself to rest. My own team would arrive tomorrow. And then, we would settle this. I drifted into a restless sleep, waking with a jolt in the dead of night. Nina was gone. Panic seized me. I threw off the covers and ran out of the room. I found her in the dining room, kneeling on the floor, serving breakfast to Brenda’s nephew. Chad saw me and sneered. “My aunt said Nina’s mine to marry. She was born to serve me.” “Good puppy,” he said, spitting a half-chewed piece of toast onto the floor. “Here’s a treat for you.” Nina immediately bent down to pick it up with her mouth. Chad roared with laughter. “You’ll even eat my leftovers! You really are a dog!” He stood up and climbed onto Nina’s back. “Run, puppy! Run fast and I’ll give you another treat!” And so, my sister crawled on all fours, carrying him around the room. “Faster! Are you trying to starve? Any slower and you won’t even get kibble!” Nina picked up her pace. Chad pulled a few pieces of dog food from his pocket and tossed them ahead of her. She scrambled to eat them. “Stupid mutt, all you think about is food!” I had seen enough. I stormed forward and sent him flying off Nina’s back with a single, brutal kick. Chad hit the floor with a heavy thud. He scrambled to his feet, screaming, “You bitch! You dare hit me!” “Guards! Tie her up!” “Who dares!” I pulled Nina into my arms, shielding her. “Chad, get on your knees and apologize to my sister right now, and I might consider letting you live. Otherwise, don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.” “Oh, listen to you! You think this is still your mother’s house?” he sneered. “This family is run by my uncle now! The Azure Syndicate is his! Who the hell do you think you are?” “Grab her!” The guards swarmed us, pinning me and Nina to the floor. Brenda rushed over, playing the peacemaker. “Sloane, my nephew is just spoiled. He means no harm, he was just playing with Nina.” “Here,” she said, her voice dropping. “You give me the crest, and I’ll make him apologize.” “You want the crest? In your dreams!” Her mask of civility finally shattered. “You ungrateful bitch! Fine! Search her! The crest has to be on her!” “There you are,” I said with a cold smile. “I was getting sick of your fake smile anyway.” “Hmph. You little slut. If you were as obedient as your sister, I might have let you stay, be a dog by my side. But you’re too wild. I can’t control you. Looks like we’ll have to send you off to one of our ‘re-education’ camps in the East to learn some manners.” “You wouldn’t dare!” “Once I have the full crest, the entire Syndicate is mine. What wouldn’t I dare?” “Ma’am, I found it!” a guard shouted. He handed my half of the crest to Brenda. Her eyes lit up with a feverish greed. She took her half from around her neck and clicked them together. “Finally! The Azure Syndicate is mine! An empire spanning the continent, endless wealth… it’s all mine!” I let out a cold laugh. “You have a trinket. Don’t you think you’re celebrating a little early?” “The Azure Crest can command all eight thousand chapters! With this, I am the new Matriarch!” “You aren’t worthy.” “Still talking tough when you’re about to die! Take her and Nina away! Send them to the camps!” I glanced at my watch. They should be here by now. As if on cue, a squad of black-clad figures swarmed into the villa, surrounding it completely. In a blur of motion, they neutralized the guards holding us and formed a protective circle around me and Nina. Brenda, who had never seen anything like this, shrieked and hid behind her remaining men. “Who are you people!” “This is the Azure Syndicate’s Praetorian Guard.” “The Syndicate’s men! Excellent!” Brenda held up the united crest. “I have the Azure Crest! I am your new leader!” “Now, on my command, seize Sloane and Nina Vance!” The black-clad guards didn’t move a muscle. Brenda grew frantic. “Are you all blind? This is the genuine Azure Crest!” The lead guard stepped forward and handed me an envelope. “Miss Vance. We have what you requested.” I took it and held it out to Mark. “Dad. Take a look.” He took it suspiciously. Brenda immediately crowded in to look over his shoulder. He opened the envelope. The contents made their faces drain of all color.

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1 Julian’s jaw twitched. Even the perfectly styled strands of his dark hair seemed to stand on end. He was speechless. “Fine,” he finally ground out. “…In installments.” He pushed the divorce papers towards me. “Can you sign now?” I stretched languidly, not even glancing at the papers, and stood up to walk towards the bedroom. “Blood first, then signature.” [Tonight’s a major plot point! The main couple clears up their misunderstanding, and the female lead is flying back to the States!] [Hah, let’s see how long this bitch can stay smug! Her death clock starts ticking the second the female lead lands!] I paused at the door. Without turning back, I said, “My new Agent Provocateur set arrived. Wanna see?” “Yes—” Julian started automatically, then caught himself. “Not interested.” From the sound of it, he was grinding his teeth down to the roots. As I reached the bedroom door, I glanced back at him one last time before closing it. “I got a collar and a whip, too.” The door clicked shut. It immediately flew back open. Julian ran a hand through his hair, trying to mask the awkward flush on his face. His hands, hanging at his sides, were clenched tightly around the fabric of his trousers. Even in the dim light, I could see the tips of his ears were bright red. “Fine, I’ll take a look…” I smiled. Wrapping him around my finger was just too easy. 2 “No phone tonight. No contacting anyone,” I ordered, staring into his deep, turbulent eyes. My hands weren’t idle; I tightened the rope. “You belong to me.” The distance between us was just enough for him to enter, but not enough for him to take control. Julian was forced to tilt his head back, a choked, muffled sound escaping his throat. “Understand?” He nodded. [What is this, dog training? LMAO] [Come on, Male Lead, have some dignity! Your marriage was just a business arrangement! The female lead is your true love!] [Whatever, I’m here for the spice. Go on, Chloe, give the people what they want.] Only then did I loosen my grip. Like a beast that had tasted blood, Julian immediately flipped me over, pinning my arms. Our sex life had always been… explosive. If there was one thing I was satisfied with over the years, it was his inexhaustible stamina in bed. A real shame. Where else would I find someone so perfectly in sync with me? I pulled the silk sheets over myself, covering the view. The live chat in my vision exploded. [I paid for the premium subscription! Let me see!] [Chloe, I’m begging you, I’ll be your dog! Woof woof woof!] [Get in line, pal! Woof! I was here first!] You guys called me a bitch. You get nothing. After he was satisfied, Julian fell into a deep sleep. I reached for his phone, tentatively typing in the passcode—my birthday. It unlocked. “Dumb mutt,” I whispered, lightly slapping his cheek. Forgetting a detail like this? If his precious “one that got away” ever found out, it would be another week of drama. I did him a favor and changed the passcode to her birthday before opening his messages. Sera: Julian, I’m divorced. Do you still love me? I glanced at the sleeping Julian. One of his hands was tangled in the strap of my lingerie, the other resting on his slapped cheek as he mumbled something about a nice scent. “Do you still love her?” I asked the empty room. “You must. Desperately.” “Willing to agree to my ridiculous demand just to divorce me and run back to her.” I casually blocked and deleted Sera’s contact. Sorry, Sera. It’s nothing personal. I’m not trying to stand in the way of true love, but my life is just a little more important. 3 When I woke up, Julian was lying next to me, an unlit cigarette between his fingers, fiddling with his phone. His brow was deeply furrowed. He must have seen the blocked contact. “Something’s wrong,” he said, his tone grave. “I think we had a break-in.” I shot out of bed. The safe? Secure. My jewelry? Secure. My collection of limited-edition Birkins? All there. What would a thief take, a pair of Julian’s worn-out boxers? “What did they steal?” I asked, returning to the bedside. Julian had lit the cigarette now. He took a long drag, his expression complicated through the haze of smoke. “They didn’t steal anything.” “They changed my phone’s passcode.” I froze for a second. The chat went blank, too. Julian tossed the phone aside. The screen lit up: iPhone is disabled. Try again in one year. “I tried every passcode I could think of. Nothing works,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “It must be someone from Vanguard Corp. Trying to cut me off from my clients to steal the Sterling account. They won’t get away with this.” He was brilliant, sure, but his one-track mind made him an idiot. “Just get a new phone,” I said calmly. “And a new number. The old one has bad juju.” Julian was used to listening to me. He nodded, grabbed his car keys, and bolted out the door. [That vicious woman! I can’t believe she’d stoop so low!] [I kinda… ship it? Don’t @ me.] When he got home that evening, he was sitting on the couch, looking troubled again. I sat down next to him with a blood-drawing kit, pulling a slip of paper from my pocket and waving it. It was Sera’s new contact info. “Looking for this?” I cooed. “Give me some blood, and it’s yours.” [Useless Male Lead can’t even remember his true love’s number!] [Yeah, can’t remember her number, but he remembered every one of her sensitive spots last night, huh?] I put the full blood bag away and casually tossed the note at his feet. Julian snatched it up and immediately dialed. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is…” [The female lead is already on a plane! She’s coming back to crush the competition!] [Tomorrow, he’s going to pick her up from the airport, they’ll clear the air, I can’t wait!] [And she’s gonna stay at his place, which is when the bitchy wife storms out and gets herself kidnapped! Yes!] 4 It was the dead of winter, frost feathering the windowpanes. I deliberately left the window open, letting the frigid New York air pour in, then cranked up the AC, aimed it right at Julian, and stole the only duvet on the bed. “C-cold…” he shivered. I lifted his pajama top, exposing his eight-pack to the cold. “I asked the doctor. You need to stay cold for your blood to replenish faster. Don’t you dare pull your shirt down.” Julian just nodded. The next day, he had a raging fever and could barely stand. The pile of used tissues next to him was mountainous. “I… I have to go get Sera…” I snatched his car keys. “I’ll drive you.” JFK was a swirling mass of people. Sera stood by the curb in a stylish cape, her eyes red and swollen. The moment she saw Julian, she threw herself at him. “How could you do this to me!” she cried, pounding on his chest. “Julian, if you don’t love me, just say it! Why block me? Why change your number? Were you planning on never speaking to me again?!” Her tears flowed freely. It was a heart-wrenching sight. Julian, delirious with fever, just blinked. He didn’t seem to process a single word. Instead, he pushed Sera away and stumbled into my arms. “Honey, I feel sick… I wanna go home…” I nodded at Sera, gesturing for her to open the car door. Sera was trembling with rage, her eyes shooting daggers that could kill. I sighed. “Miss Sera, you don’t want to stand out here in the cold, do you?” She shot me one last venomous glare before yanking the driver’s side door open. I helped Julian into the back seat. Shut the door. After a moment, I rolled down the window. “He won’t let go of me. Guess you’ll have to drive.” [There she goes, provoking the female lead again. Enjoy it while it lasts, your days are numbered.] [Yup, the moment she’s alone, it’s curtains for her!] I instantly caught the key word. Alone. Fine. From now on, I was sticking to Julian like superglue. “Thanks for the ride home,” I said, pressing a few hundred-dollar bills into Sera’s hand. “This should cover your Uber. Keep the change.” I hauled the semi-conscious Julian out of the car. A six-foot-three tower of muscle, and he felt as heavy as a sack of bricks. Getting him into bed was an ordeal. “No… don’t…” Julian mumbled in his sleep, looking terrified. Tears welled in his eyes as his hands grasped at the air. “I’ll complete the mission… System, please… don’t hurt her…” I had no idea what he was talking about. I gently took his hand. “No one is going to hurt Sera.” Thinking about my own impending doom, I couldn’t help but sigh. “Julian, if I died… what would you do? Would you be scared? Would you miss me? Or would you just forget me?” He squeezed my hand back, still muttering nonsense. But the last thing he said, I heard with perfect clarity. “I love her. So, so much. If the ending is bad, please… take my life in exchange for her safety and health.” A bitter pang went through my chest. So that’s how much he loved Sera. Lost in thought, a tear escaped my eye and landed on his face, trickling into the corner of his eye as if it were his own. “Sorry,” I whispered, and quickly left the room. 5 I became Julian’s shadow. I went with him to work, on business trips, hell, I even held his hand when he went to the restroom. I was terrified that a single moment apart would be my last. Soon, the gossip columns in New York were buzzing. Julian Vance and his wife were inseparable, attached at the hip. [That’s a savage move. Our poor female lead is probably crying her eyes out at home.] [Tonight, she’s gonna go get wasted. He’ll drive to find her, and on the way back, they’ll run over his wife who has conveniently run away from home. Finally, her exit!] A chill went down my spine. I looked at Julian, who was currently inhaling a steak, and an inexplicable rage boiled up inside me. I shoved his face straight into his plate. “Eat, eat, eat! Is that all you know how to do?!” You’re about to kill your wife, you idiot! Julian was stunned. He shakily picked a piece of arugula off his nose, looked at the messy plate, then at my thunderous expression. “I was hungry…” he mumbled. I snatched his phone, unlocked it, and went to his messages. Just as I thought. Sera: I don’t believe you have no feelings for me, Julian. I’m giving you one last chance. Sera: I’ll be at Midnight tonight. If you don’t show up, we’re over for good. Julian: I’ll be there. “You’re not going,” I said, my voice flat. For the first time, Julian’s expression turned serious. He took the phone back. “I have to.” He pressed his lips into a thin line, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge of the table. A profound, unshakable sadness filled his eyes. “Someone will die if I don’t.” Thinking of his sleep-talking that night, my anger mixed with a sense of hurt. How could I tell him? If you go tonight, I’m the one who dies. But the only person he cared about was Sera. Julian turned his face to the window, his eyes getting a little red. “Wow, this steak sauce is really spicy…” I ignored him. After a long silence, I clutched my stomach and collapsed onto the floor, pinching my thigh hard to make the pain look real. “Julian… my stomach… it hurts so much…” He swept me into his arms and sprinted out of the restaurant. He floored it, running who knows how many red lights. In the passenger seat, I was secretly calculating. Once we were far enough away, I’d sit up and tell him the pain was gone. “I have a couple of things to take care of, you can head home first.” I turned around and got into a police car. Once at the station, I went straight to the officer in charge. “I’d like to report a reckless driver.” The NYPD worked fast. He ran the lights at noon; his license was suspended by the afternoon. If Julian was supposed to hit me with a car, I’d make sure he couldn’t drive one. [Damn, that’s cold-blooded.] [Hah, he’ll just take a taxi. And she’ll still end up getting stabbed by a burglar at home. The end is near!] [The System makes its appearance tonight! The puppet master of the whole story! Kinda excited to see it in human form.] The System again. What the hell was it? If it controlled destiny, maybe it could change my fate. I pulled my hat down low and slipped into the club, Midnight.

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The moment my sister Olivia’s cerebral aneurysm ruptured, they were rushing her into emergency surgery. I was in my office, calmly practicing a basic suture on a surgical simulator. On the screen, the robotic arms guided the needle and thread with a fluid grace, a perfect, sterile dance. A work of art. Minutes later, my boyfriend, Ethan, burst through the office door. “Audrey!” he yelled, his voice raw. “Olivia’s critical, and you’re the only one who can perform the micro-dissection. The entire department is waiting for you! Her surgical window is less than an hour!” His eyes were wide with a desperate hope. I was the only surgeon in the country capable of performing a procedure at this level. My hands had been called “the hands of God.” But I just gave a soft “hmm,” my attention still fixed on the simulator. My parents stormed in right behind him. My mother grabbed my arm, her voice cracking with sobs. “Audrey! That’s your sister! Can you really just stand by and watch her die?” I gently pulled my arm away and held out my right hand for them to see. This hand, the one that had performed countless medical miracles, was trembling. It was a slight tremor, almost imperceptible, but it was there. “A shame. I started showing symptoms of an idiopathic tremor yesterday,” I said, my voice even. “Dad. Mom. This hand is useless now.” 1 The air in the room froze. The expressions on their three faces morphed into sheer, unadulterated shock. They stared at my right hand, at the slight but fatal tremor that, for a top surgeon, was a career death sentence. My mother’s lips trembled. “How… how could this happen? You were fine yesterday! Have you been working too hard?” “The cause is unknown.” I pulled my hand back, tucking it into the pocket of my white coat. “Perhaps it’s fate.” “Fate?” My father’s brow furrowed, his tone laced with reprimand. “Audrey, don’t be ridiculous! Are you… are you still holding a grudge against us?” I didn’t answer, turning my gaze back to the simulator. The year I turned eighteen, they found me living in a small town upstate and brought me to the Sloane family home. It turned out that Olivia Sloane, the treasured daughter they had raised for eighteen years, was not their biological child. I was. My adoptive parents had passed away when I was young, and life had been a struggle. When I first arrived at the Sloane mansion, I was sensitive and insecure, a wildflower transplanted into a manicured garden. It was Olivia who offered me the most warmth. She taught me etiquette, bought me beautiful clothes, and defended me at every turn. She insisted we were real sisters and told me to feel at home. My parents said the same, that Olivia was their daughter too, and that they couldn’t possibly love one more than the other. Because Olivia’s birth family was destitute, they couldn’t bear to send her away, so they decided to raise us both. I was grateful to them, and grateful to Olivia. I studied relentlessly, desperate to become their pride and joy, vowing to protect our perfect family of four. Until now. Seeing my silence, my mother’s tears started to fall freely. She screamed at me, her voice ragged. “Audrey! Is this resentment? Just because we showed Olivia a little more affection, you’re holding a grudge, and now you’ll let her die?” “Have you forgotten how much she loves you?! When you were pulling all-nighters in med school, who was it that always brought you food to keep you going?!” For a fleeting moment, her words still stung my heart. Ethan rushed to my mother’s side, trying to steady her. “Mrs. Sloane, please, calm down. Audrey isn’t that kind of person!” He then turned to me, his eyes filled with a deep, aching disappointment. “Audrey, I know you’ve been hurt, but Olivia is innocent in all of this! You can’t let your personal feelings cloud your duty as a doctor!” My father, normally a composed university professor, had red-rimmed eyes. His voice was hoarse. “Audrey, even if your hand is injured, you could at least go in and supervise! Olivia is your sister. You can’t just watch her die!” But I remained unmoved, my focus on the instruments before me. My mother finally broke. She collapsed to her knees, her wails echoing in the hallway. “How could I have raised such a cold, heartless daughter?! Olivia is so kind, she gave up so much for you, and now… now you’re going to kill her?” Her cries were so piercing that they drew the attention of other staff members, who peered in from the hallway. Their gazes, a mixture of confusion and contempt, fell on me. I simply offered a small, cold smile. “I suppose it’s her time to go. There’s nothing I can do.” With that, I sat back down and picked up the controls for the simulator. On the screen, the robotic arms began to move again. I was completely absorbed, as if the world outside my office had ceased to exist. Seeing this display of utter indifference, my father swayed on his feet. Ethan stared at me, his expression hardening with finality. He took a deep breath, as if making a monumental decision. “Mr. and Mrs. Sloane, please, don’t beg her anymore.” He turned to my parents, his voice firm. “Let me do it.” Ethan’s declaration was a lifeline, and my parents grasped it immediately. “Ethan! You… are you sure you can do it?” my mother asked, clutching his hand. Ethan glanced at my parents kneeling on the floor, then back at me. His face was a mask of profound empathy and sorrow. “Audrey won’t do it, and I understand,” he said, his voice heavy with meaning. “She carries the burden of being ‘the hands of God.’ She can’t afford to fail. But I can’t stand by and watch Olivia die!” His words were a masterstroke. On the surface, he was defending me, but in reality, he was crucifying me, painting me as a coward who would sacrifice her sister for her own reputation. The whispers from my colleagues in the hall grew louder, their disdain for me thickening the air. Ethan addressed my parents again, his voice ringing with conviction. “Mr. and Mrs. Sloane, please, trust me! I’ve assisted Audrey on every single one of her micro-dissections. I know the theory, I know the principles by heart. Please, allow me to combine her technique with traditional methods. Let me take this risk for Olivia!” “Yes! Yes, my boy!” My father was weeping with gratitude. “Ethan, if you save Olivia, our family… we’ll give you half of our entire fortune!” At the mention of money, I finally looked up from my simulator. I watched my ecstatic parents and the noble, self-sacrificing Ethan, a silent calculation running through my mind. Half the Sloane family fortune. At least a hundred million dollars. But… I rose slowly from my chair and looked at Ethan, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re going to use my technique? Have you been authorized?” Ethan froze, his expression turning to one of pained disbelief. “Audrey Sloane! How can you be thinking about that at a time like this? A life is on the line!” “Saving a life is one thing. Intellectual property is another.” I gave a dismissive shrug, my tone unyielding. “Without my authorization, if you so much as touch a scalpel using my methods, I will sue you into oblivion. You’ll never wear a white coat again.” “You—!” Ethan’s face went pale with rage. My father was trembling, pointing a finger at me. “Audrey Sloane! You’re being utterly unreasonable! Are you really going to let your sister die over money and patents?” I looked at him, my own father, as if he were a complete stranger. “You’d better decide quickly,” I said calmly. “The patient is running out of time.” The seconds ticked by, each one punctuated by the growing murmur of the crowd in the hall. I felt no urgency at all. “Fine! I agree!” my father finally choked out, his voice thick with defeat. “If you authorize the procedure, I’ll have my lawyers transfer half of my shares to you the moment it’s done!” I smiled and pulled a small digital recorder from my pocket, pressing the record button. “Dad, could you repeat that for me? You are voluntarily gifting me half of your shares in Sloane Industries as a licensing fee for my patented technique.” My father’s face turned a deep shade of purple, but he repeated the words, each one laced with humiliation. Satisfied, I put the recorder away and nodded at Ethan. “Go on, then. I hope your hands are steadier than mine.” Then, under the weight of my parents’ loathing and Ethan’s bitter disappointment, I walked out of the office. I didn’t go home. I went to the coffee shop across from the hospital and ordered the blackest, most bitter coffee they had. Through the large window, I could see the lights of the surgical floor shining brightly against the night sky. They got what they wanted. And so did I. For the next few days, I took a leave of absence. The hashtags trended nationally: #HeiressFromHell, #DoctorDearest, #TheSerpentSloane. My life story was excavated and put on public display. The internet spun a lurid tale of a “backwoods girl returns to the manor, torments her kind-hearted sister out of jealousy.” Olivia’s old social media accounts were unearthed, each post a carefully curated testament to how wonderful she had been to me, her gentle words painting me as an even more hideous monster. I didn’t look at my phone. I stayed in my apartment, polishing an old picture frame over and over. Inside was a photo of a kind, scholarly-looking middle-aged man: my mentor, Professor Marcus Cole. Three days later, the news broke. “Devoted Boyfriend’s Heroic Gamble Pays Off, Saves Fiancée’s Sister.” “A New God is Born! Dr. Ethan Cole Completes Impossible Brain Surgery!” The reports lionized Ethan. Facing the cameras, he spoke with deep emotion. “I only did what anyone would do. Audrey is the love of my life. Her sister is my sister.” His words only served to cast my own actions in a colder, more monstrous light. The online vitriol against me reached a fever pitch. And then, an even bigger story dropped. Veridian Medical Technologies, a giant in the medical device industry, announced a major strategic partnership with Dr. Ethan Cole to develop and promote an improved version of the micro-dissection technique and its associated surgical tools. A week later, I received a call from the hospital’s chief administrator. His tone was not an invitation, but a summons. “Audrey, tomorrow morning at nine, the hospital is hosting a city-wide neurosurgery conference. It will be live-streamed. As the patent holder for the original technique, your attendance is mandatory.” I knew what it was. A public execution. They wanted me there to witness Ethan’s coronation. The next day, I arrived at the hospital’s international conference center on time. The hall was packed. The city’s top neurosurgeons, reporters from every major news outlet—the room was a galaxy of flashing camera lights. As I walked in, my eyes were drawn to a scene in the center of the room that felt like a physical blow. Ethan and Olivia, who was seated in a wheelchair, were surrounded by a throng of journalists. My parents stood beside them, beaming. A perfect family of four. Suddenly, just a moment before the conference was set to begin, Olivia turned to the cameras and began to sob. “Everyone, I’m so sorry to take up your valuable time,” she began, her pale face streaked with tears, looking fragile and beautiful. She had everyone’s undivided attention. “But I have to reveal the truth today!” “My aneurysm… it wasn’t an accident! It… it was caused by long-term poisoning… by my sister, Audrey Sloane!” The announcement was a bombshell. The room erupted. Every camera, every phone, every pair of eyes swiveled to face me. Olivia’s sobs grew louder as she clutched our parents’ hands. “From the day she came to our home, she bullied me, she tried to push me out! I endured it all for the sake of our parents, for the peace of our family! But I never thought… I never thought she would be so cruel as to try and take my life!” Ethan placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, as if giving her the strength to speak her truth. He then produced several lab reports. “I didn’t want to say anything before, for fear of ruining Audrey’s reputation. But after the surgery, I obtained conclusive evidence. Olivia has been systematically poisoned with a chronic neurotoxin! I cannot stand by and let her hurt Olivia anymore!” The live-stream chat exploded. The hashtag #HeiressPoisonsSister shot to number one trending worldwide. I stood at the entrance of the hall, trapped in the crossfire of a thousand hateful stares. Reporters surged toward me, shoving microphones in my face. “Dr. Sloane, did you poison your sister?” “Why would you do something like that? Was it jealousy?” “Do you have any right to call yourself a doctor?” I ignored them all and walked toward my biological parents. I looked at them, my voice trembling just slightly. “Dad. Mom.” “Do you also believe that I am that kind of person?” My question hung in the air, creating a moment of dead silence. “Audrey, we gave you a chance…” my mother wept. “Olivia has proof… We… we are so disappointed in you!” My father, his face a mask of sorrow, turned away, unable to even look at me. “See? A true monster, even her own parents can’t stand by her!” “She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing! The Sloanes should never have taken her in!” “They need to revoke her medical license, permanently!” The venomous whispers washed over me. I stood there, in the spotlight, utterly alone, a criminal already convicted by the court of public opinion. Just then, several uniformed police officers entered the hall. Their faces were grim, their voices loud and clear. “We received a call about an intentional poisoning. Who made the report?” Every head turned back to me. I could see the faint, triumphant smiles on Ethan and Olivia’s faces. Under the sharp gaze of the officers and in the suffocating silence of the room, I calmly raised my hand. “Officer,” I said. “I’m the one who called.”

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The night I won my first Oscar, a gossip blog dropped a grainy video of me from years ago, heavily pregnant. The press room erupted. Every reporter was shouting the same question: “Ms. Jiang, who is the father of your child?” I glanced over at Liam Foster, his face a mask of stunned disbelief. It was the first time I had ever seen the famously stoic and composed mogul lose his cool in public. I turned back to the reporters and smiled into the blinding flash of cameras. “I don’t have a child.” The day Liam left me for his childhood sweetheart, he sealed our fate. There would never be anything between us again. 1 Before I even stepped out of the limo, my publicist, Dana, was giving me the riot act. “If you see Ashley Vance, you walk the other way. We are not having a repeat of last year’s drama.” It was an open secret that Ashley’s benefactor was Liam. The Foster family practically owned Hollywood. There was a crude saying that made the rounds in the industry: Want to be a star? Sleep with a Foster. As crass as it was, it was true. Every woman linked to Liam had seen her career skyrocket. Except for me. I was the only one who had publicly dated him and ended up nearly blacklisted. All because I had offended his precious childhood friend. For the past six years, no matter how hard I worked, no matter how much critical acclaim my performances received, I never won. Nomination after nomination, always the bridesmaid. The constant disappointment had sanded down all my rough edges. I started avoiding any project Ashley was attached to, turning down scripts I loved with the excuse of “scheduling conflicts.” Maybe my silent surrender finally paid off. Or maybe, with her and Liam’s wedding on the horizon, she didn’t want the bad press. Whatever the reason, this year, they’d deigned to let an award slip through their fingers and into my hands. When Dana got the news, she nearly cried. “Kara,” she’d said, her voice thick with emotion, “the hard times are finally over.” Liam was finally letting me go. I knew, even though our breakup was his fault, that I could never win a fight against him. I had surrendered a long time ago. 2 The moment Dana finished warning me about Ashley, Ashley herself appeared, inviting me to walk the red carpet with her. The old flame and the new fiancée of the most powerful man in Hollywood, standing side-by-side. It was a PR goldmine. I knew she was doing it to humiliate me. It wasn’t just about her status as Liam’s new woman. It was also because we were both wearing dresses by the same designer. Hers was from the latest couture collection. Mine was a loaner from last season. I could already picture the headlines, the brutal fashion blogs, the snarky comments from her fans and my haters, calling me a “has-been.” But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t there to compete with her wardrobe. And I certainly had no illusions about winning Liam back. If she wanted to be the star, I would be the quiet, tasteful backdrop. Apparently, my compliance bored her. She leaned in, her voice a low whisper. “Did you know Liam is coming tonight?” I didn’t. The day we broke up, we had severed all ties. But my stride faltered at the mention of his name. She noticed. A smirk played on her lips. “Don’t get your hopes up. He’s here for me.” “I know.” Although the Fosters were a Hollywood dynasty, Liam himself had always shunned industry events. Even when we were together, at the height of our supposed love story, he’d never once attended an awards show for me. “We’re getting married soon,” she added. I nodded and turned to her, forcing a sincere smile. “I wish you both all the happiness.” My meekness seemed to drain the fun out of it for her. As soon as we were off the carpet, she disappeared, probably to find him. I posed for the photographers and answered a few vapid questions. To their credit, none of them mentioned Liam. Our relationship had been a whirlwind, but its end was a PR disaster. Liam, the man who controlled everything, had found out he was single from a trending topic on Twitter. I was the one who announced it. In an interview, when a reporter asked about our future plans, I had looked straight into the camera and said, calmly, “We’ve broken up.” No warning, no explanation. 3 Liam had called me once after that. He didn’t ask why. He didn’t apologize or try to explain. He just asked, “Are you sure about this?” I’d whispered, “Yes.” He was silent for a beat, then hung up. I had expected him to be furious. He was used to getting his way. For me to dump him, and for him to find out about it with the rest of the world… it was the ultimate humiliation. The hashtag #LiamGetsDumped trended for three days straight. He never had it taken down. My own studio tried, but it would reappear minutes later. It wasn’t about his embarrassment; it was a warning to me. And sure enough, my career hit a brick wall. Six years. Six years until his anger cooled, until he was ready to marry someone else. The memories were a haze. The presenter had to call my name twice before I snapped out of it. The applause was thunderous. Through the crowd, I saw Ashley in the front row. The seat beside her was empty, reserved for Liam. He wasn’t here yet. Good. But as I stepped onto the stage to give my acceptance speech, I looked out, and there he was. Sitting right next to her, looking devastatingly handsome. He was even more formidable now, his presence colder, more imposing. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second. He looked at me as if I were a complete stranger. I steadied myself and began my speech. 4 Halfway through, a murmur rippled through the audience. It was more than a whisper; it was the sound of a collective gasp, a scandal breaking in real time. A notorious gossip blogger had just posted a grainy video of me, taken six years ago, shortly after my breakup with Liam. I was visibly pregnant. I had dropped out of a major film back then, disappearing from the public eye for a full year. The video was from a security camera in the lobby of my old apartment building. I had forgotten to wear a mask that day. My face was perfectly clear. As I walked off stage, clutching my award, Dana and my assistant rushed to form a human shield, but it was too late. The press swarmed me, a chaotic frenzy of flashing lights and outstretched microphones. “Kara, who is the father?” “Was it Liam Foster’s baby?” “Where is the child now?” They were all shouting the same question. I was trapped. Across the room, Liam sat untouched, a circle of empty space around him like an invisible force field. If we were still together, maybe they would have been kinder. I saw the raw shock on his face, the way his fingers dug into the armrest of his chair. He knew who the father was. And for the first time, the unflappable Liam Foster looked utterly lost. I didn’t look at him. I looked at the reporters, and I smiled. “I don’t have a child.” 5 No Oscar winner has ever made an exit as pathetic as mine. My dress was torn, I’d lost an earring in the chaos. It felt less like a victory march and more like a refugee fleeing a war zone. “What the hell was that?” Dana demanded once we were safely in the car. “You have a kid? Liam’s kid? Where is he?” The questions came too fast. I didn’t know which one to answer. This was a new team. They only knew the public version of my history with Liam. They thought I’d disappeared for a year to mend a broken heart. Dana’s mind was already racing. “If Liam comes looking for his kid, this is your chance! You can get back together with him. You’ll be set for life.” I shook my head. “Don’t tell me you’re going to piss him off again!” she shrieked. “There is no child,” I said quietly. There was, once. But not anymore. She didn’t believe me. “Kara, look,” my assistant said, holding out her phone. “Are they already dragging you online?” Dana snarled, snatching the phone. Her expression shifted. “What… what is this?” There were no negative stories. No embarrassing photos from my chaotic exit. Nothing. It was Liam. He could crush a person with a single phone call. He could also protect them just as easily. “So you really don’t have the kid?” Dana asked, looking stressed. “Then what are you going to tell him?” Why did I have to tell him anything? He didn’t love me. And he was about to marry someone else. 6 I knew he would come for me. He had to. But I didn’t expect him to be waiting at the foot of my building. In the dim light of the streetlamp, his tall, lean figure looked just as it had six years ago. Back then, he would have opened his arms for me to run into. Now, he just stood there, a cold, imposing statue. “Be smart about this, Kara,” Dana warned as I got out of the car. “You’ve worked too hard to throw it all away now.” I nodded and walked toward him. My steps were even, as if I were meeting an old acquaintance. But my heart was pounding. Because I had loved him. So much that when the earthquake hit, when he left me behind without a second thought to find Ashley, I had almost lost the will to live. He knew why I dumped him. He just never cared enough to explain. He let me suffer for six years as punishment for embarrassing him. “Mr. Foster,” I said, my voice even. He frowned. “I always preferred it when you called me Liam.” I smiled, a sad, distant thing. “Ashley said you’re getting married soon. It wouldn’t be appropriate. Congratulations.” “Do you think I can get married now?” he asked, his voice rough. Even if Ashley was willing to be a stepmother, her family would never allow it now. I had, once again, ruined his plans. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Where is the child?” 7 He finally got to the point. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” he demanded. Because I didn’t know at first. And when I did, we were already over. “I didn’t want to complicate things with you and Ashley.” He laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “You hid it for six years, and it still blew up in our faces. Did that make it any less complicated?” “I’m sorry,” I repeated, the only words I seemed to have left. He asked again, his voice dangerously low. “Where. Is. The. Child?” “There is no child,” I said. From the moment I saw the two pink lines, I knew I wouldn’t keep it. A man who didn’t love me would never love my child. And I wasn’t going to be a single mother. A flicker of something—pain? regret?—crossed his face. It was the first real emotion I’d seen from him all night. Did he care about the child we never had? Or was it possible that, once, he had cared a little bit about me?

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On my wedding day, I received an anonymous note claiming my fiancé, Julian Vance, was already married with a child back in his hometown. When I showed it to him, he just laughed it off. “Ancient history, Viv. A stupid high school promise. Someone’s clearly bored and trying to stir up trouble. Probably just jealous I’m marrying the daughter of a billionaire.” But on the day I gave birth, the sweet, limping caregiver I’d hired out of pity made sure both my baby and I never left that room alive. It was only after I died that I learned the truth. That caregiver was his small-town sweetheart, the mother of his son. After my death, they burned my memorial, orchestrated the downfall of my family, and seized every last cent of my inheritance. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my wedding day. 01 As consciousness returned, my first instinct was to shut my eyes tight. The phantom agony in my abdomen, the feeling of cold, metal forceps violating my body—it was all still there, a ghost haunting my senses. The sighs of the young intern echoed in my ears. “If they’d just gotten here five minutes sooner… It’s like they wanted to let her bleed out.” “Not just her. The baby suffocated.” “God, what a monster…” The voices faded, and the impossible truth settled in. I was alive. I had been reborn. “Vivian, there’s a letter for you!” The same envelope, the same handwriting. My head snapped toward the window. In a discreet corner of the garden, a woman with a noticeable limp was staring in, a lost look on her face. I snatched the envelope, grabbed my phone, and ran outside. With her limp, she couldn’t outrun me. She must have known it, because she simply stopped and waited, her expression a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. “You’re Vivian Lancaster, right?” Her face was delicate, a palm-sized portrait of fragility and strength. I held up the letter. “You wrote this, didn’t you?” She paused, then her voice became soft, pleading. “I just wanted to warn you. Julian has a wife and a son. You shouldn’t be the kind of person who destroys a family.” A cold laugh escaped my lips. “Oh, please. Save the performance for someone who’ll buy it, Hannah.” The name made her flinch. “You dared to come here and deliver this note, so why are you still playing the innocent victim?” In my past life, I fell for her act completely. She told me she was a single mother, forced to drop out of school, working as a caregiver to survive. She said her limp made it hard to find work. My heart broke for her, and I hired her on the spot, at double the standard rate. “Miss Lancaster, thank you, thank you so much for this chance,” she’d gushed, her gratitude seemingly endless. But when my labor began, Hannah showed me a video on her phone. It was her and Julian, my husband, tangled together. They had been carrying on an affair while I was suffering from morning sickness, sometimes in my own bedroom. The shock sent me into premature labor. Hannah kicked my phone out of my reach, her smile twisting into something demonic. “I told you, didn’t I? Julian has a wife and a son. You’re the one who ruined our happiness. You deserve to die!” she’d sneered. “What’s so great about being rich, Vivian? Once you’re dead, Julian inherits everything. We’ll finally have the money to be a real family.” 02 Staring at the Hannah in front of me now, I didn’t hide my disgust. I ripped the letter to shreds. “The wife you’re talking about is you. And the son? He’s the reason you dropped out of college three years ago, right?” Three years ago, Julian and I had already announced our engagement to the world. My voice was ice. “You stand there acting so self-righteous, but you’re the other woman.” She froze, then her voice rose, sharp and defensive. “No! I’m not! Julian and I have known each other since we were kids. First come, first served. Don’t you get it?” She glanced behind her at the sparkling, man-made lake, a sly smile spreading across her face. “Vivian, want to make a bet? If I were to jump into that lake right now, do you think Julian would still go through with marrying you?” I knew exactly what she was planning. She wanted to frame me. In my past life, when I was still blindly in love with Julian, I might have hesitated. But now? I couldn’t wait to be rid of him. I smiled, pocketing my phone. “Sure.” My voice was sweet. “I’d be happy to help.” Before Hannah could react, I grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the water’s edge. I knew this estate better than she did. Realization dawned on her face, and she began to struggle wildly. “No, wait! Stop!” But I’d been taking self-defense and boxing classes since I was a teenager. Hannah was no match for me. I shoved her toward the lake. As she scrambled to get her footing, I gave her one final, hard push. “Vivian, you’ll pay for this! Mmph… gurgle… gurgle…” Her delicate face was now smeared with mud, some of which had splattered onto my white wedding gown. I didn’t care. I wanted to hold her head under the water until the bubbles stopped, to repay her for everything. But I couldn’t. I had my parents to think about. I had this precious second chance. In the distance, a procession of cars approached. The lead car, a vintage Rolls-Royce decorated with my favorite lilies of the valley, screeched to a halt. Julian jumped out, his face a mask of panic. “Stop!” 03 I released my grip on Hannah. “Julian!” she cried out, triumphant. But before she could finish, her foot slipped on the muddy bank, and she tumbled back into the shallow water. Julian didn’t even glance at her. He rushed to my side, his hands gently wiping the specks of mud from my cheek. “Viv, your skin is so sensitive. This will make you break out.” His touch was soft, his eyes filled with a deep, unreadable emotion that I now knew was a lie. In my last life, I believed that look meant he loved me. I was a fool. The memory of my death surged back. As I lay on the floor, contractions wracking my body, a primal survival instinct took over. I had lunged, my fingers closing around Hannah’s throat. She wanted me dead, but I wouldn’t go down without a fight. She had clawed at my pregnant belly, her face turning purple. Then Julian had returned. Without a moment’s hesitation, he had pried my hands off her and thrown me aside. “I’m sorry, Viv. She’s the mother of my child.” He had locked me in the small bathroom while he took Hannah into my bedroom. The sounds that followed were the final nails in my coffin. The greatest sorrow is a dead heart. I looked at the man now fussing over my dress. “This is ruined, we can’t use it,” he murmured. “Good thing we bought backups. Why don’t you wear the mermaid gown? It’ll look stunning with the necklace you’re wearing.” I lifted my hand and slapped him across the face. Hard. The force of it made my own palm sting. “You bastard!” Hannah shrieked, trying to lunge at me, but Julian shoved her away without a second glance. He bent his head and gently kissed my stinging palm, then began to massage it with a technique he’d learned specifically for me. “Hit me all you want, honey, it’s okay,” he soothed. “But we still have a wedding to get to. Don’t make your husband look like a mess for the photos.” I pulled my hand back, switched to the other, and slapped his other cheek just as hard. Then I smoothed my dress and stood tall. “Julian, I want a divorce.” 04 The gentle, pleading smile vanished from Julian’s face. He glanced at Hannah, who was shivering from the cold, and took off his tuxedo jacket, draping it over her shoulders. Then he turned back to me. “Is this because of Hannah?” I clutched my phone, my voice steady. “You have a child with her, don’t you?” A small crowd of wedding guests had gathered, keeping a respectful distance. Julian nodded, completely unfazed. “I do.” “But he’s my son, Viv. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you never have to see him. I’ll send Hannah and the boy back home. They’ll be out of your hair.” He took a step closer. “I promise you, we can have our own children. We can move past this. Okay?” I let out a bitter laugh. “You think this is about you doing me a favor?” My scorn finally cracked his composure. “Vivian, I’m trying to be reasonable here. The Lancaster Group isn’t what it used to be. Since your father’s illness, your family’s hold on the top spot has been shaky. Meanwhile, my company, Vance Innovations, is booming. Our marriage is more than just us.” He lowered his voice. “Besides, what man in our circle doesn’t have someone on the side? I’m even promising you she’ll be the only one. Think carefully, Vivian. Do you want to be Mrs. Vance, or do you want to have nothing?” Hannah, emboldened by his words, added her own pathetic plea. “Vivian, I’m just a woman with a limp. I’m not trying to compete with you. I just want a better life for my son. You don’t have children yet, so you probably can’t understand a mother’s heart.” Julian pulled her into a protective embrace, whispering reassurances. After a moment, he looked at me again. “It’s not just the child. Hannah’s leg… she was injured trying to help me years ago. I owe her.” He laid out his disgusting proposal. “Vivian, you can be Mrs. Vance in public, the face of our dynasty. Hannah can be in the background, taking care of the child. I know you two can get along.” Unbelievable. One minute he’s promising to get rid of them, the next he’s asking me to play happy families. I laughed, looking straight into his deceptively sincere eyes. “If she’s so precious to you, Julian, you should marry her. Make an honest woman of her. That way your son won’t be a bastard, and the whole world can applaud your tragic love story.” My voice dripped with sarcasm. “Or what is it? You want her to have your children, but you’re ashamed she’s a cripple? You really want to have your cake and eat it too, don’t you?” “And you,” I said, turning to Hannah. “Did you not get the memo that we’re in the 21st century? Or are you just banking on your illegitimate son having a claim to the Lancaster fortune?” 05 My words hit their mark. Hannah’s face flushed with shame. Julian shielded her. “Vivian, we are legally married. If you continue to make a scene and disrespect our family like this, then divorce is the only option.” I nodded. “Good. I can’t wait.” Julian smiled, a cold, predatory gleam in his eyes. “According to the prenup we signed, if you file for divorce, I get fifteen percent of Lancaster Holdings.” I smiled back. “In your dreams.” “That clause only applies if you’re not the party at fault.” “You cheated on me and fathered a child. What grounds do you possibly have to take a single share of my family’s company?” Julian glanced at the distant crowd, then at the shredded letter in my hand. “But do you have any proof? As far as anyone can see, you were bullying a disabled woman, and I stepped in to defend her. You’re the one throwing a tantrum and demanding a divorce on our wedding day. Who do you think they’ll believe?” He looked down at me, smug and confident, as if that fifteen percent was already in his bank account. Hannah, full of self-satisfaction, chimed in. “Julian, once we get the shares, can we bring Andy back from overseas? He hates it there. He misses his daddy so much.” “Of course, baby,” Julian cooed. In my past life, Hannah had fed me a sob story about her son. “I was a single mom, I raised him all by myself,” she’d said. “I had to leave him with family back home so I could come here and work.” She’d even shown me photos of a sweet little boy whose face held a faint, familiar resemblance I couldn’t place. My heart, already soft with my own pregnancy, had ached for her. I gave her bonuses, extra time off to “visit her son,” never knowing she was flying to a private villa in Europe to meet Julian for their perfect family getaways. Now, here they were, already planning their bright future on the ashes of mine. But I was about to burn their little dream to the ground. I raised the phone I’d been holding, a smile playing on my lips. “Julian, did you forget?” “I told you I wanted the entire wedding live-streamed.” 06 His face went white. He lunged for my phone, but it was too late. The live chat was already a waterfall of outrage. OMG, the AUDACITY. The mistress showed up at the wedding! I feel so bad for Vivian. I really thought they were the real deal, a true power couple. Correction: SHE’S the power. He’s just a lucky gold-digger. He’d be nothing without Lancaster Holdings backing him. Julian’s face was a thundercloud. The comments were all true. If he hadn’t been my boyfriend, my father would never have given him the time of day, let alone the seed money for his startup. His peers from business school were still grinding away in middle management. Only Julian had become a self-made success story in three short years, all by leveraging our “fairytale romance” for capital and PR. He knew better than anyone how crucial his public image was. Just as furious was my mother. When the wedding was officially called off, she tore into Julian with a ferocity I’d rarely seen. My father was still recovering from a major surgery, and she didn’t dare tell him the news. “Your father was planning to retire this year,” she lamented, holding my hand. “We thought we could trust Julian to take over the company. How could he have been so deceitful!” She sighed, her face etched with worry. “With your father still weak, and me having never run the business… we need someone at the helm. Actually,” she brightened slightly, “I got a call from Mrs. Davenport yesterday. How about you meet her son? He’s a very capable young man.” I shook my head. “No.” “Mom, don’t worry,” I said, my voice firm. “I’ll take care of the company. I won’t let it fail.” She looked at me, her expression doubtful. “Absolutely not. The boardroom is full of sharks, Vivian. It’s a man’s world. You’re a young woman; they’ll eat you alive.” I didn’t get angry. I knew she loved me; her love was just shaped by a different generation’s fears. I squeezed her hand. “Mom, I can do this. Julian’s reputation is in ruins. This is the perfect time to crush Vance Innovations. And besides,” I added, a grim smile touching my lips, “no one on this earth knows his weaknesses better than I do.”

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I doted on his parents for five years, catered to their every whim. And with their blessing, I finally married their only son. My husband, Ethan, was a classic trust-fund kid, more interested in polo than profits. So, as his wife, I became the CEO of Prescott Enterprises. Life was, for a time, perfect. Then came the gala celebrating our billion-dollar acquisition. Ethan showed up, his arm wrapped around his pregnant first love, Amber Sutton. “Marrying a commoner like you was always a compromise,” he announced, his voice carrying across the hushed ballroom. “Amber and I are back together. The mother of my child is the only one qualified to run my family’s company. You’re fired, you washed-up charity case. Get out.” I glanced at my in-laws, Arthur and Eleanor, who stood frozen, their faces a mask of conflict. I let out a soft sigh. “You don’t have the authority to fire me, Ethan. I’ll give you one last chance. Tell her to get rid of the baby, cut her loose, and maybe we can still be a family.” A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, followed by a wave of derisive laughter. They thought I was insane, a gold-digger trying to play hardball. I just smiled. “You’re right about one thing. I am playing hardball. And I have every right to.” 1 Silence fell over the glittering ballroom for a heartbeat. Then, the whispers erupted. “Has she lost her mind? Kate owes everything to the Prescotts. What a bluff.” “Don’t call her CEO anymore. She’s just the jilted wife. Once she’s fired, she’s back to being a nobody.” “Honestly, Kate should just take the deal,” a woman in diamonds muttered. “The kid was never going to be hers anyway. What’s the difference? She gets to play stepmommy, she should be grateful.” Amid the jeers, Ethan stared down at me, his handsome face contorted with that familiar, aristocratic disdain. “Kate, don’t embarrass yourself trying to make threats. You don’t have the capital. Without me, you are nothing.” I looked at his face, the one I had known so intimately, and a bitter taste filled my mouth. “Three years of marriage, and you throw it all away? You kick me out of the company I built? How exactly do you plan on explaining this to your parents?” Ethan’s expression soured. “Don’t you dare bring them into this. If you hadn’t shamelessly fawned over them, do you really think I would have ever married you? We’re from different worlds, Kate. I can’t do this anymore. And why shouldn’t you be fired? Of course Mom and Dad will side with me.” “Will they?” I crossed my arms, my voice even. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” My confidence seemed to give the room pause. “Does… she have an ace up her sleeve?” someone murmured. “Come to think of it, Prescott Enterprises was just another mid-level firm before she took over. She tripled its value in three years.” “Exactly. And this billion-dollar deal she just closed? They could coast on that for the next decade.” As the murmurs of praise for me began to swell, Amber’s composure cracked. She sniffed, her gaze dripping with contempt. “So what if she’s a good little worker bee? Once you’re fired, you’re less than nothing. You need to understand your place. You’re not like us, the ones who were born to have it all.” I ignored her acidic tone, my eyes fixed on Ethan. “Is that how you see it, too?” A flicker of something—maybe pity—crossed his face, likely recalling the endless nights and weekends I poured into his family’s company. “My decision is final. But look, I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars. For old times’ sake.” A laugh escaped my lips, sharp and incredulous. “A hundred thousand? For three years of my life? For the billion-dollar deal I closed today? You’d need to add at least two more zeros to even start that conversation.” Ethan scoffed. “You think you can talk about fairness? People like you don’t get to talk about fairness with people like me. You might recall, Kate, that you never signed an employment contract. So legally, I don’t have to give you a damn cent. Take the money and get out before you make this worse for yourself.” Every eye in the room turned to me—a flood of pity, shock, and unconcealed glee. I could only shake my head at my own foolishness. It was true. I was working for family, I’d thought. I never imagined Ethan would replace me with Amber. Amber. The one that got away. She’d dumped him without a second thought years ago when the family business was struggling. Now that I’d turned it into a powerhouse, she was back, ready to reap the rewards. And Ethan, blinded by nostalgia, was letting her. For a woman who had abandoned him, he was treating me with a cruelty that was breathtaking. A cold rage solidified within me. “You don’t have the authority to fire me, Ethan,” I repeated, my voice like ice. “I am giving you one chance. One. Send her away, tell her to terminate the pregnancy, and dedicate yourself to our marriage. This is the only offer you will get.” Ethan stared at me, his disbelief morphing into pure fury. He jabbed a finger in my direction. “Who the hell do you think you are, giving me orders? Amber is carrying the next Prescott heir! She’s the one I’m going to love. As for you? You could get on your knees and beg, and the only thing you’d get is fired.” The crowd shook their heads, laughing at my audacity. But I didn’t care. They were all wrong. I never make empty threats. I had every right to give him that ultimatum. If I hadn’t promised his parents I would love him, would tolerate him, he would have been out on the street the moment I confirmed his affair. I held his gaze. “So, to be clear, you are firing me and divorcing me for your mistress?” “Don’t you call me that, you bitch!” Amber shrieked, her mask of civility gone. “The one who isn’t loved is the mistress! Are you that stupid you don’t even get that?” Ethan wrapped a protective arm around her. “That’s right, Kate. I don’t want you. And without me, you have no right to be the CEO of Prescott Enterprises. Amber, our baby, and I—we are a family now.” “What a pity,” I murmured. “You really should have taken the chance I gave you.” Ethan’s face hardened, his disgust for me palpable. “Stop with the theatrics. You think you’re still the all-powerful CEO? You’re nothing without me. Who needs your pathetic chances?” Amber shoved a finger into my forehead. “Are you a dog that only knows how to bark? Before your brain completely short-circuits, you’d better start the handover process. I’m in charge of everything now.” I slapped her hand away. “You think any stray off the street can handle this project?” “What the hell is wrong with you, Kate!” Ethan shoved me backward, then immediately turned to Amber, his voice full of concern. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Amber shot me a venomous glare. “Ethan, she’s not going to listen to reason. It’s time to stop being nice.” He nodded grimly, his eyes returning to me, cold and dismissive. “Fine. If you won’t cooperate, it doesn’t matter. If someone like you could land this deal, an Ivy League graduate like Amber certainly can. Besides, my father will help her.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “What makes you so sure Dad will accept her?” He looked at me as if I were a simple-minded child, placing a hand gently on Amber’s stomach. “Amber is the mother of my child. The mother of the future heir to the Prescott fortune. Against that, Kate, you’ve already lost.” Seeing his smug, self-satisfied expression, I felt a pang of something almost like pity. “You know,” I said gently, “if you’re with her, your child might not have the right to the Prescott name.” “You’re damn right!” Amber crowed triumphantly. “Ethan loves me so much, he’s already agreed our first child will take my last name, Sutton. See? That’s the difference between being loved and not. You could fawn over his family for a decade and you still wouldn’t be worth a single hair on my head.” The guests snickered. “Did she really think everyone is as desperate as her to marry into money, that the child has to take the father’s name?” “The Prescotts and the Suttons are a good match. They can decide the name however they want.” “Besides, Mr. Prescott only has the one son. He’ll let him do whatever he wants.” Ethan’s patience was gone. “It’s over, Kate. You’re fired. From now on, Amber is the CEO of Prescott Enterprises.” I let out a cold, dismissive laugh. “I told you. You don’t have the authority to fire me.” This time, the crowd roared with laughter, pointing at me as if I were the court jester. Amber’s voice was laced with scorn. “Just give it up, you pathetic bitch. You’ve made an enemy of the Prescotts. You’re not just fired—no one in this industry will ever hire you again. Your lucky streak is over.” They all thought I was a fool. I could have walked away with a severance, but now I would have nothing. My career, my future, all of it, gone. But they didn’t matter. I stood up straighter, my voice ringing with a confidence they couldn’t comprehend. I swept my gaze across the room, meeting the eyes of our business partners, our allies, our fair-weather friends. “Do you all think,” I asked, my voice clear and steady, “that based on my performance, I deserve to be fired?” The people at this gala were the ones I worked with day in and day out. They knew Ethan was a dilettante who cared only for his leisure. They knew his father had run the company, and then I had. They had all dealt with me directly. There was a man whose company I’d saved from bankruptcy, investing in a project no one else would touch. He’d once told me, with tears in his eyes, that I was his savior. There was a woman who’d initially dismissed me as a trophy wife, but after closing three deals with her, she’d become a close friend and confidante. And there were countless others who had courted my favor, desperate to maintain a good relationship. Now, they either avoided my gaze or looked at me with open contempt. “Don’t look at me, Kate,” one of them said, a man I’d had dinner with last week. “If you had just left quietly, I might have considered giving you a job. A little something to tide you over.” “You’re talented, sure,” said another. “But you burned your bridges. There are plenty of talented people out there. We don’t need to piss off the Prescotts for you. You’re not that important.” “My advice? Find another rich man to latch onto. After all, that’s what you’re good at.” The laughter was a physical force, crashing over me in waves. The very people who had sung my praises were now kicking me while I was down. I remembered something Arthur, my father-in-law, had told me when I first took over. When things are going well, you’re surrounded by friends. It’s only when you fall that you see who they really are. Looking at their smug, opportunistic faces, I finally understood. But I would not give them the satisfaction. I stopped looking at them, my voice dropping to a low, powerful tone. “I’ll say it one more time. There is no one in this room who has the authority to fire me.” “You gold-digging parasite! How long are you going to keep this up?” Amber shrieked, her patience completely gone. “Ethan has thrown you away! People like you don’t belong in a place like this!” I ignored her as if she were a yapping dog, picked up a glass of champagne from a passing tray, and took a slow, deliberate sip. My utter calm seemed to unnerve them. A flicker of doubt crossed their faces. Maybe I wasn’t bluffing. For a long moment, in that vast ballroom, no one dared to make a move to throw me out. Ethan, however, was immune to my act. He shot me look after look of pure hatred, his eyes constantly darting towards the entrance. Suddenly, his face lit up. “Mom! Dad! You’re finally here!” He strode over and took Arthur’s arm, his voice dripping with triumphant condescension. “Kate, you said no one here could fire you. I believe my father, the Chairman of the Board, has the authority, don’t you think?” He was right, of course. I was the CEO, but Arthur Prescott was the Chairman. He had the final say. “Dad,” Ethan pleaded, “I know Kate is a suck-up and you like her, but I’m miserable with her. I love Amber, and she’s having my baby! Please, just let us be happy!” “Mr. and Mrs. Prescott, it’s so good to see you,” Amber said, her previous vulgarity replaced by a mask of demure sweetness. Arthur had never liked Amber, especially after she’d broken his son’s heart. But his gaze fell to her pregnant belly, and he held his tongue. Eleanor, my mother-in-law, looked at Amber, her voice hesitant. “Are you… are you really carrying Ethan’s child? Are you feeling alright?” “I was fine,” Amber said, instantly playing the victim, “but Kate has upset me so much, my stomach has started to hurt.” At this, Arthur’s expression hardened as he turned to look at me, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. The guests, who had been momentarily swayed by my confidence, saw this exchange. The concern Arthur and Eleanor showed for Ethan and Amber was all the proof they needed. My bluff had been called. A fresh wave of scornful looks pierced me like daggers. Ethan, sensing victory, smirked. “Mom, Dad, I want a divorce. If you want someone to bring you tea and massage your feet, you can hire a team of nurses. No normal woman would debase herself like that. Just give Amber a chance. You’ll love her once you get to know her.” His undisguised revulsion at my acts of affection made several guests physically recoil from me, as if I were contaminated. Amber laughed, a loud, victorious sound. “See? What’s the point of all that devotion? Without status, without power to back it up, you end up with nothing!” Just as Arthur and Eleanor were about to speak, I raised a hand, silently asking them to wait. Ethan was shocked. “You used to jump when they so much as breathed. Now you dare to silence them? I see. Now that it’s over with me, you’re showing your true colors. You really are a piece of work. “Mom, Dad, can you really stand to see me with such a manipulative person? I want a divorce. Please, just agree.” Amber immediately chimed in. “Mr. and Mrs. Prescott, you wouldn’t want your first grandchild to be born out of wedlock, would you? The moment Ethan is free, I promise I will marry him.” My in-laws looked at me, then at the tightly clasped hands of Ethan and Amber. Finally, Arthur let out a long, heavy sigh. “It’s a shame. It seems you can’t force people to be family.” He looked at his son. “Ethan, do what you feel you must.” Ethan beamed and immediately had someone bring over the divorce papers. “You could have had a settlement, Kate. But you were too greedy. Sign this, and you and I are done. You are no longer the CEO of Prescott Enterprises. You brought this all on yourself.” The jeers of the crowd were a roaring in my ears as Ethan impatiently urged me to hurry. There was nothing left to say. I signed my name with a firm, steady hand. “There,” I said, setting the pen down. “Now that we’re no longer connected, it’s time you learned where my confidence really comes from.”

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