Category: English

My roommate got drunk after a breakup. While I was giving her a ride home on my electric scooter, I accidentally scraped a Mercedes. My roommate glanced at the license plate and asked me faintly, “Are you short on cash lately?” I answered honestly, “Always.” My roommate nodded, then pitched headfirst off the scooter, adding as she fell, “I’ll make you rich today.” I… At the same time, the door of the Mercedes opened, and a handsome guy in a sharp suit stepped out. We stared at each other in stunned silence. 01 Right before graduation, my roommate quietly broke up with her boyfriend. My gorgeous roommate got completely wasted and called me to take her home. While I was driving her back on my little electric scooter, she was giving me directions and simultaneously ranting about her ex’s terrible behavior. I comforted her while trying to keep my eyes on the road. Not gonna lie, even though she was drunk out of her mind, the scenic route she directed us on was pretty beautiful. Taking in the scenery ahead, I couldn’t help but ask, “Hey, drama queen, why do I remember this area being a luxury gated community up ahead? Are you sure these directions are right?” My roommate leaned against my back and, after a long pause, said, “Do you know? I was the rose he watered. How am I supposed to live without him?” Me: “…” Alright, Rose Queen, you just stay sad for a bit. She was already unconscious and totally useless, and I felt something was really wrong. I had to pull over to the curb and open Maps to see where we were. Suddenly, a force hit my cute little scooter, and my phone flew out of my hand from the momentum. Ahhh!! My phone! A broken phone would just add to the financial misery of my already poor family. I turned around angrily and saw an all-black Mercedes that had given us a light bump. Just as I was about to check on my poor phone and give the driver a piece of my mind… My roommate sat up like she was waking from the dead, glanced at the license plate, pondered for a long time, and suddenly asked: “Are you short on cash lately?” What kind of question is that? We’ve been surviving on instant ramen together for so long, don’t you know I’m always broke? I answered honestly: “Always.” My roommate nodded, and then I watched as she slowly slid down and fell flat next to the Mercedes, adding: “I’ll make you rich today. Are you touched?” I’m touched, alright, but look at me—do I dare move right now, my dear roommate?! What is happening? If you’re going to pull a scam, at least rehearse it with me! My acting skills aren’t up to par for this! As I stood next to her, completely bewildered and not knowing what to do with my hands or feet, the door of the Mercedes opened. The moment the door opened, a pair of long legs stepped firmly onto the ground. Then, a man in a sharp suit slowly walked over. He carried a freezing aura, his face completely devoid of any warmth. His sharp features and tall stature gave off an intense, oppressive presence. I nervously swallowed hard and crouched down, desperately shaking my roommate who was playing dead on the ground. My good daughter, please get up! You picked the wrong person to scam! If you don’t get up, your daddy (me) might get murdered in the next second. A shadow fell over me. I looked up and met his gaze as he stared down at me, scrutinizing. “Get up. Don’t make me repeat myself.” 02 His voice was deep and carried an undeniable tone of authority. Driving a Mercedes, incredibly handsome, deep voice—yep, he’s a certified billionaire CEO. I was scared half to death. Even though this CEO bumped my scooter first and was technically at fault… My idiot roommate trying to run an insurance scam on him was definitely not okay! Seeing this girl still playing dead and refusing to get up, I had to bite the bullet and tell the truth: “Uh, sir, we’re not trying to scam you. She’s just really drunk…” Before I could finish, I saw him frown. Then he crouched down, sniffed slightly, and let out a light scoff, as if laughing out of sheer anger. “Look at you, Chloe Sterling, you actually know how to drink now?” “???” What’s going on? He knows my roommate? Seeing my shocked expression, this CEO turned to me and said very politely: “I apologize. My driver accidentally scraped your scooter. I’m Chloe’s older brother.” “Liam Sterling.” His tone was still as cold as ice. What??? This cold-faced CEO character is my deadbeat roommate’s brother! Which means, my deadbeat roommate… I looked at the “Rose Queen” lying on the ground next to my shattered phone, and tears of envy practically flowed from my mouth. Waaaaah, why didn’t you tell me you were a rich girl! I caught my breath and told her brother: “It’s fine, it’s fine. She got drunk, so she asked me to take her home.” Liam gave a slight nod. Just as he thanked me and was about to pick up my roommate, my deadbeat roommate—oh wait, no, my dear rich friend—suddenly came back to life. She grabbed my hand and refused to let me go. Muttering nonsense like: “You don’t want me anymore, waaaaah. Taking advantage of me being drunk to abandon me. I bought you that car!” I didn’t! I am not! Don’t talk nonsense! I bought my little electric scooter by living on instant ramen! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liam giving me an inquisitive look. Damn it. I wanted to explain that the person she was talking about wasn’t me, but her ex-boyfriend. But I didn’t know if she had told her brother about her relationship, so I was stuck taking the blame in silence. For a moment, the three of us were locked in a bizarre, awkward stalemate. Liam holding her, her holding me, and me… I just wanted to die. But Liam, clearly someone used to handling big situations, thought for a moment and then took both of us back to his place. He even had my scooter and phone packed up and brought along. As soon as we walked in, my eyes were practically blinded by the sheer luxury. It was insanely opulent. Is this the world of the rich? Oh my god. However, even though the house was luxurious, it felt inexplicably empty. I secretly looked around and realized there wasn’t a single housekeeper in sight. “Sorry for the trouble of bringing Chloe back.” Liam placed my roommate on the bed, smoothed out his clothes, and extended a hand to me: “How should I address you?” I froze for a second, then reached out and gave him a brief handshake: “Audrey. I’m her roommate.” Liam nodded. He was already tall, and I was standing very close to him. From this angle, I could only see his sharp, defined jawline. “It’s too late today. You can stay here for the night, Audrey. As for the scooter and the phone,” Liam looked at the shattered phone in my hand, his expression calm and unreadable, “I’ll have someone handle it.” He was talking about my little electric scooter and the broken phone. I nodded. Liam turned to leave, but just as he stepped out the door, my roommate suddenly whined with a sob: “Mom…” Then she mumbled some more drunken nonsense. Liam stopped dead in his tracks. He stood outside the door, his back to the light, remaining completely silent. The light from the living room stretched his shadow long across the floor. For some reason, his tall silhouette made me feel a sense of profound loneliness. After standing there for who knows how long, Liam took large strides away without looking back. The room was left with just me and the dead-to-the-world Chloe. 03 Why did he look… a bit sad? I felt a bit confused but didn’t dwell on it. After cleaning Chloe up, I was so exhausted I just collapsed onto the bed. Even as I lay there, it felt like I was dreaming. The roommate who ate cheap takeout with me every day was suddenly a rich heiress, and her attempt at a scam happened to target her own brother. What a bizarre turn of events. Thinking about it, I drifted off to sleep. When I woke up again, it was to Chloe screaming: “Holy shit, Audrey, why am I at home?!” I buried my head under the covers, my brain unable to process anything, and mumbled: “Your brother brought you back.” Chloe instantly started wailing: “Holy shit, my brother!! No wonder that license plate looked familiar.” Wow. So you only dared to pull a scam because you recognized your brother’s car? And here I thought you were just criminally insane. She scratched her head: “Did I say anything embarrassing?” When she said that, the image of Liam standing alone outside the door, looking so isolated, flashed clearly in my mind, and I instantly woke up. I sat up, looked at her wailing, kind of wanting to laugh, and asked: “What do you mean?” Chloe buried her face in the covers, saying despairingly: “About dying over that scumbag, of course. It’s so embarrassing.” So that’s what it was. She definitely said quite a bit about that, Rose Queen. Seeing me stay silent, she started shaking me. I threw my hands up in surrender: “No, no, no, I covered your mouth the whole time.” She put her hands together in a gesture of gratitude: “A grateful heart, thankful for you.” Speaking of this, I yanked her out from under the covers: “You liar, didn’t you say your brother started working right after high school?” Chloe looked completely sincere: “Yeah, he started his own business right after high school.” Then she muttered: “He’s doing pretty well for himself now.” Who would call that just ‘working’?! Who would call this just ‘pretty well’?! I gave her an admiring thumbs-up and said: “Since you’re awake, I’m heading back.” Chloe immediately grabbed me: “Wait, didn’t you say you couldn’t find a place to stay for the summer? Do you want to stay here with me?” I looked at her in shock. Truly my dear roommate, we were on the exact same wavelength. I had actually planned to ask if she wanted to rent a place together for the summer, since our internship locations were very close. But with the current situation, it was a bit unexpected. Her brother was still home; it would be so inconvenient for me to stay here. Probably sensing my hesitation, Chloe immediately said: “Don’t worry, my brother is basically never home. If you don’t come, I’ll have to live in this huge house all by myself. It’ll be so lonely.” Waaaaah, rich girl, you’re really flexing right now. Chloe started acting pitiful: “You know I get scared, right? Just me alone in the house.” I thought about it and asked: “Is there really no one else in your family? Like a housekeeper or something?” Such a big house, yet it felt so empty. Chloe looked confused: “No. When I’m staying at school, it’s just my brother here. He doesn’t like hiring housekeepers.” That solitary silhouette from last night flashed in my mind again, looking even more lonely. I shook my head to clear the image and said honestly: “I’m fine with it, but you have to discuss it with your brother…” Before I could finish, she pulled me out the door and sprinted down the stairs: “Then we have to hurry. My brother is about to leave for the office.” I stumbled as she pulled me along. When we got downstairs, I saw Liam already sitting at the dining table, who knows how long he’d been waiting. 04 Chloe pulled me over to sit down. Liam’s cool gaze swept over us, his voice carrying a slight nasal tone: “Care to explain? You drink now?” Chloe laughed awkwardly: “Well, you know, it’s graduation season, the sadness of parting ways…” Liam gave a scoff, clearly not buying it: “You’re graduating this year?” Chloe shot me a look, desperately signaling me for help. Holy crap, this girl never prepares a script. I coughed, kept a straight face, and lied: “Yes, the seniors in our lab are graduating. We’re close, so we had a few drinks.” Liam’s deep, dark eyes looked at me, as if trying to see right through me. I smiled at him calmly, but inside I was a bundle of nerves. This was scarier than the strictest principal from my high school. I thought Liam was going to press further, but he stopped and calmly said: “Let’s eat.” As if the intimidating patriarch from a second ago wasn’t him. I breathed a sigh of relief, and Chloe secretly gave me a thumbs-up. After a few bites, before I could fully relax, Chloe spoke up while eating: “Liam, Audrey isn’t going home for the summer. Can she stay here with me?” As soon as she finished, Liam’s gaze fell on me. After a brief moment of thought, he answered: “Yes.” Then he continued eating methodically: “I won’t be coming back for a while then. If you have any problems, call me anytime.” Chloe openly threw a peace sign at me, then excitedly praised me to her brother: “Did you know? Audrey is amazing. She’s the smartest person in our dorm. She’s loved astrophysics since she was a kid and studies it with such passion.” She paused, then emphasized: “Astrophysics!” That’s because different fields are like different worlds. Our dorm was mixed; my major was different from theirs, but everyone was actually pretty impressive in their own research areas. Liam seemed interested in this and asked: “Have you always liked it this much?” I thought for a moment and answered honestly: “Not exactly. There was a time when studying it was really painful.” Chloe said admiringly: “Audrey thinks it’s painful but keeps studying, and eventually she loves it. I’m different. I study it and just fail.” I laughed at her exaggerated expression. Chloe acted like a reporter: “Come on, tell us, how did you overcome the difficulties and fall in love with astrophysics?” It wasn’t a big deal. I organized my thoughts and kept it brief: “It’s actually pretty cliché. I met this expert online back then. He taught me a lot, and then I slowly started to enjoy studying it again.” Liam nodded slightly and asked: “And now?” I said firmly: “Lifelong passion.” Chloe nodded excitedly and showed off my keychain: “She really loves it. Even her keychain is a model of Pluto.” When she showed the keychain, Liam froze. He suddenly stopped moving, his eyes locked onto my keychain, his expression complex, his brows even furrowing slightly. I looked at Chloe in confusion. She calmly explained that her brother’s recent projects involved this kind of knowledge, so he gets excited hearing about it. Oh, I see. No wonder he had more to say when he heard I studied astrophysics. “This keychain… is it from the expert you mentioned?”

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When a scholarship student spilled milk on my shirt, my childhood best friend bullied her the very next day. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but later I caught him cornering her again. “If I… if I kiss you, will you let me go?” she stammered. Liam gave a lazy, arrogant smile. “What do you think?” In that exact moment, I finally realized: we were no longer walking the same path. Half a month later, the scholarship student staged a fake bullying incident, and Liam violently kicked my desk over. “Are you psycho, Chloe?! Over a spilled cup of milk?! Really?!” I picked up my backpack with absolute indifference. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I have an airtight alibi.” “I spent yesterday afternoon filing my transfer paperwork. I’m leaving tomorrow.” 01 Liam Evans was the undisputed king of our high school. Tall, handsome, and so naturally brilliant he could place in the top ten without even studying. And everyone knew that I was his one and only untouchable boundary. No one messed with me, and no one crossed me. Or else they suffered the consequences. “Chloe, when do you think Liam is going to let that scholarship girl off the hook?” “He’s literally skipped a whole week of classes just to corner Maya outside of school.” My pen paused on the paper. I looked up at the empty desk a few rows away. I lowered my eyes and gave a flat reply. “I don’t know.” The final bell rang. I hugged my neatly packed notebooks and walked out of the classroom with my desk mate. She kept chattering. “Tsk, well, I guess I’ll never understand the mind of an overly protective boyfriend.” My throat suddenly felt dry. Protective? A few days ago, Maya, a scholarship student, accidentally spilled a carton of milk all over me. Liam’s face instantly darkened. As he took off his school uniform jacket and wrapped it around me, the other students demanded Maya apologize. “Huh? It was an accident. Do I really have to apologize?” “That milk was pretty expensive too…” She mumbled, clearly unwilling. Someone pulled her sleeve and whispered. “You clearly have no idea how protective Liam is of Chloe. If she gets mad, Liam will literally destroy you.” Hearing that, she let out an “Oh.” And gave a very reluctant, defiant apology. Meanwhile, Liam wiped down my desk, never sparing her a single glance. The entire school knew. Liam and I had grown up together. I was the person he cared about most, the person he was absolutely determined to protect. But now… I let out a dry, hollow laugh and stopped my desk mate. “Actually, Liam and I aren’t really anything special.” “Huh?” She looked confused. Seeing I wasn’t going to elaborate, she followed my gaze toward the school gates. In a narrow alleyway just out of sight, Liam and Maya were standing incredibly close. They were talking, and the girl was so close her breath was practically brushing against Liam’s face. 02 There were a lot of students walking by. If you didn’t look closely, they were hidden in the shadows of the alley, making them hard to spot. A lazy, arrogant smile played on Liam’s lips. “So, what do you owe me today?” “A deal is a deal.” Maya’s face was flushed red. She wouldn’t look at him. She went up on her tiptoes and quickly kissed his cheek. “Holy shit! What?!” My desk mate was dumbfounded. She couldn’t help but gasp out loud. That single gasp made Liam turn his head. His eyes locked directly with mine. Our gazes collided, and the air instantly froze. My desk mate finally realized what she had done and covered her mouth. “Sorry! You guys keep talking! I didn’t see anything!” Then she bolted like her life depended on it. I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, honestly not knowing what to say. I gave a cold, detached smile. “What a coincidence. I’m heading home too.” Liam’s gaze rested heavily on me. He didn’t say a word. We stood there in a silent standoff for three long seconds. As I turned to leave, I heard Maya’s voice. “Liam… is she mad?” “Don’t worry about her.” My heart felt a sudden, agonizing squeeze. I forced it down and walked faster. I had known Liam for nineteen years. Suddenly, I realized he was no longer the boy I remembered. Three days ago, when I found out he had started targeting Maya, I specifically went to talk to him. “I don’t care about stuff like that.” “But I do.” His expression had been completely serious as he enunciated every word. “Your health isn’t great. I won’t let anyone bully you.” We grew up together. That was the sentence he had said to me more than any other. But it was that exact same day. I saw him cornering Maya against the wall of the auditorium. Maya was crying and hiccuping. “If I… if I kiss you, will you let me go?” Liam dropped his usual cold, unapproachable demeanor. He gave a lazy, arrogant smile. “What do you think?” I don’t remember how I walked away from the auditorium. My legs felt stiff, and my chest was so tight I couldn’t breathe. For the rest of the afternoon, I didn’t absorb a single word the teachers said. Eventually, I managed to convince myself: people change. If we were no longer walking the same path. Then we shouldn’t walk together anymore. 03 The next morning, Liam didn’t show up for homeroom. Everyone was used to him skipping class. “But…” My desk mate paused, unsure if she should ask. But she asked anyway. “You didn’t walk to school with Liam today?” Normally, we walked into the classroom together every single day. In the summer, he would buy me breakfast; in the winter, he would have a hot pack ready for me on the walk. It was an unspoken routine everyone knew about. But today, I deliberately took a different route that avoided his neighborhood. Seeing my hesitation, my desk mate tactfully changed the subject. “Oh, whatever. What do you want to grab for breakfast after homeroom?” When homeroom ended, Liam finally showed up. He was carrying a bag of warm, fresh cheese balls. “Oh my god, don’t you have to run all the way across town to get those?” “Chloe, you’re so lucky! Let me have one!” A few girls crowded around me. But Liam didn’t even look at me. He walked past my desk and dropped the bag of cheese balls directly in front of Maya. Then he went back to his desk and put his head down to sleep. The area around my desk went dead silent. “Did he drop them at the wrong desk?” “Did the young master need glasses?” Maya looked over at me, making eye contact with the girl who had just asked for a cheese ball. She covered the bag with her hands. “Sorry. Liam bought these for me. I’m not sharing them.” Nobody really paid attention to her comment. Instead, everyone was shooting me awkward, questioning looks. Finally, someone couldn’t hold back. “Did you guys get in a fight?” “No way. Liam is insanely protective of Chloe. There’s no way he’d suddenly turn on her.” I wasn’t really surprised. Since I had seen them, there was no reason for him to keep pretending. The atmosphere around us was definitely humiliating. But my face remained completely blank. I just pulled my lunch card out of my desk. “We didn’t fight. “And I should clarify this for everyone: Liam and I are just regular classmates. “We don’t have any other relationship.” With that, I walked out of the classroom. The school jacket Liam had draped over his head suddenly slipped off. He raised his eyes to look at me, his gaze freezing coldly in midair. 04 The subtle shift between Liam and me didn’t escape my mom’s notice. For several days in a row, he hadn’t come over to our house. He used to always do his homework with me. Well, he didn’t actually do his homework. He just liked resting his chin on his hand, watching me work, idly twirling the ends of my hair around his fingers. When it annoyed me, I’d swat his hand away. He would just smile, his eyes curving like a sly fox. “Finished? Want to go for a walk?” I would fake being annoyed. “Liam, if you aren’t going to study, don’t distract me.” “Then kick me out.” He would prop his head up with his other hand. His tone was absolutely shameless, knowing full well I’d never actually kick him out. Sometimes I studied very late. He would accidentally fall asleep on my desk. When he finally left, he would stretch by the door, smile, and wave. “See you tomorrow.” That was the dynamic between Liam and me. There were no explicit confessions, but he rooted himself into my life, deliberately leaving his mark everywhere, flaunting his blatant favoritism for me. Who wouldn’t fall for someone like that? I liked Liam. And I had carefully, secretly fantasized about our future together countless times. Maybe we would start dating. Maybe after graduation, he would gently, formally take my hand and confess. Thinking about that, Maya’s face suddenly flashed in my mind. Liam holding her in his arms, smirking, letting her stand on her tiptoes to kiss him. I squeezed my eyes shut, my eyes burning with unshed tears. My mom was asking me. “Liam hasn’t been walking you home lately. “Did you guys get into a fight? “Your teacher called his mom and said Liam is dating someone. Did you guys…” I shook my head, cutting her off. “He isn’t dating me.” My mom froze, clearly wanting to say something else. But I suddenly looked up and asked her. “A few days ago, that magnet school offered me a spot to boost their Ivy League acceptance rate, right? “I thought about it. I’ll transfer.” Before, Liam had told me he wanted to stay by my side forever. And I had the exact same hope. But now. I had absolutely no reason to stay here anymore. 05 Liam and I established an unspoken agreement to keep our distance. His relationship with Maya became the biggest gossip in school. In the past, people had speculated if Liam and I were secretly dating. But since we never crossed any physical boundaries, it remained just rumors. Now, things were different. Liam was skipping class and taking Maya with him. Even the teachers knew about it. During P.E., my desk mate suddenly ran over to me. “Chloe! Liam is going to beat a guy to death! You have to go stop him!” I froze slightly. “A fight?” In my memory, whenever Liam fought someone, it was almost always because of me. When I got there, Liam had a guy pinned against the brick wall. Both of them had blood on their mouths. Liam casually wiped the blood off his face and raised his fist again. “I’ll ask you one more time. Are you going to apologize to her or not?” “I FUCKING TOLD YOU! I never insulted her shoes!” Maya was hiding behind Liam’s back. She was sobbing. “He… he definitely stared at my shoes and judged them.” Liam pulled his fist back to swing. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw me, and he froze. I understood instantly. He was fighting for Maya. Well, I had no intention of interrupting his “knight in shining armor” moment. I turned to leave, but the guy pinned against the wall used Liam’s momentary distraction to kick him away, and then grabbed my arm. I gasped in shock. I recognized him—he was the leader of the local delinquent gang. “Well, well. If it isn’t your little childhood sweetheart.” “You falsely accused me, and you hit me? Liam, if you don’t apologize to me right now, I’m going to punch her in the face!” He gripped my arm with crushing force. I started to panic. “Whatever is going on between you two has absolutely nothing to do with me!” He ignored me. He glared at Liam. “Scared now? I heard you care about her a lot.” Maybe I was just too terrified, but in that moment, I harbored a pathetic, unwarranted sliver of hope for Liam. If it were the old him, he would have done absolutely anything to protect me. But the words asking for help died in my throat. Because Liam laughed first. “You heard wrong.” He lazily lifted his eyes, his gaze sweeping over me with chilling indifference. “Go ahead and hit her. But I am not letting what happened to Maya go.” I stared blankly as he gently wiped Maya’s tears away, and then walked away with her. Above me, I heard a vicious curse. “Motherfucker, I don’t believe him.” The delinquent gritted his teeth. And slammed his fist directly into my face. 06 I blacked out. The punch was agonizing. I never knew getting hit felt like that. In my memories, Liam had taken countless hits like that. Sometimes he got them from fighting for me. Sometimes he got them from his dad beating him for failing his classes. He would always come to me, begging me to apply the ointment. “It hurts so much, Chloe. Don’t you feel sorry for me?” He would say it looking like a pitiful puppy. My heart would pound uncontrollably every time. While I dabbed iodine on his cuts, I would ask. “Can’t you just focus on school? Then your dad wouldn’t hit you.” Liam would go silent. I only ever asked him that once. That day, the atmosphere between us plummeted to freezing. Later, I found out the truth. Liam’s parents had practically been divorced for years. They both had affairs. But to maintain the illusion of a perfect family for Liam, they pretended everything was fine. Ever since Liam discovered the truth, he started getting into fights, skipping class, and staying out all night, pushing everyone away. Once I found out, I never told him to “focus on school” again. He had his own way of rebelling against his broken world. He seemed to severely lack a sense of security. He would ask me, “Chloe, I’m never going to get into a top college like you. Are you going to stop talking to me?” I shook my head. “Never. I’ll always be by your side.” The dream cut off right there. I could hear people arguing next to my ear. It sounded like Liam’s father. “What the hell is going through your head?! Refusing to study is one thing, but you just stood there and watched someone beat Chloe like that?!” Liam’s mother was crying nearby. “How could you do this? Chloe fell from a balcony when she was little, you know she has a history of concussions! Didn’t you always swear you would protect her?” Liam, who had been completely silent, suddenly let out an impatient scoff. He kicked something on the floor. “Fucking hell, protect what? Isn’t she a human being? Does she need me to protect her?” Smack. Liam’s father slapped him hard across the face. His voice was trembling with rage. “And that… that Maya girl! Why is she the only one you stand up for?!” “Heh…” Liam let out a soft laugh. “Yeah. She’s willing to skip class with me. She’s willing to fight with me.” “What the hell is Chloe compared to that?”

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My boyfriend thought my breasts were too big. He gave me $70,000 to get a breast reduction surgery. Right then, a mysterious person suddenly transferred $700,000 to my account. The memo read: “Don’t listen to him.” I gripped my phone and secretly texted my boyfriend’s best friend: “If you want me to listen to you, just sending money isn’t enough.” He replied at lightning speed: “What are you talking about? I don’t understand.” Me: “Never mind then, I’m heading to the hospital.” He panicked just as I expected: “What else do you want?” “Are you 7 inches?” “I’m 24 years old.” “Talk is cheap, show me.” Later, he used his actions to show me a really good time. 01 My name is Maya Vance. I’m the girlfriend of Ethan Sterling, the golden boy of the city’s elite circle. But not for long. Because I plan to teach him a lesson. If you’re asking why I don’t just break up with him gracefully before finding someone else… Well, Ethan brought this entirely upon himself. He hated my figure and constantly pressured me to get a breast reduction. What’s even more infuriating is that he secretly created a burner account to flirt with other girls. So, after careful consideration, I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine before dumping him. Right before bed. For the first time, I posted a face-reveal selfie on my social media account, which had just under ten thousand followers. Caption: “Looking for a handsome, low-maintenance boyfriend.” Requirements: “6 feet tall, 7 inches, must have abs.” Within half an hour of posting, my follower count skyrocketed, nearing a hundred thousand. Amidst the sea of compliments and unsolicited selfies, one particular DM caught my eye. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?” How did this person know I wasn’t single? I clicked on his profile. His IP address showed he was in the same city as me. His profile picture was pitch black, and he had zero posts. His bio simply read: “Small gains accumulate, eventually surpassing everything.” For some reason, I had a sudden premonition. This person definitely knew me. Please don’t let it be Ethan. That would ruin the fun. I was debating whether to reply when he got anxious and messaged again. “Have you considered your boyfriend’s feelings by doing this?” “Even if you want a new guy, you shouldn’t be looking online.” “There are tons of scammers on the internet.” “Be careful or you’ll get trafficked overseas.” … Okay, I was certain this wasn’t Ethan. But judging by his tone, he was probably close friends with him. Who could it be? Looking at the chat window, I suddenly realized his username looked familiar. Scrolling back, I discovered he had been liking my posts for a long time. Sometimes he even left comments. Even Ethan didn’t know about this account, yet this guy had been following me for this long. Could he… have a crush on me? Filled with doubt, I sent a probing reply: “Then do you want to give it a try with me?” 02 The moment I hit send, it was marked as read. My curiosity was completely piqued. I had pretty much met all of Ethan’s friends. Who exactly was secretly harboring a crush on me? After a few seconds of silence in the chat, a flurry of messages arrived. “What do you mean?” “You want me to be your boyfriend?” “Stop joking around. To tell you the truth, Ethan and I are good friends.” “I would absolutely never do anything to betray him.” “Okay then, bye,” I replied. After sending that, I closed the app, put my phone away, and went straight to sleep. The next morning, the first thing I did was open my account to check my DMs. Just as I expected. Not only had he sent a barrage of messages, but he had even tried to voice-call me multiple times. “What the hell do you mean, ‘bye’?” “Explain yourself!” “Are you serious about looking for a boyfriend, or are you just acting out in anger?” “Come to think of it, I guess I could work.” “But I refuse to be the other man. You have to make it official!” “Why aren’t you answering?” “Are you asleep?” “Or are you chatting with other guys?!” One missed voice call. “I already said I’m down. Don’t look for anyone else.” Two missed voice calls. “Fine, I’ll be the other man. It’s not like Ethan is a saint anyway. Last time we were in Tokyo, he went to a maid cafe behind your back.” Five missed voice calls. “Are you still there?” “It’s getting late. Get some rest. Goodnight.” A few minutes later, he sent a heart emoji, followed by a blood-pumping photo of his abs. In the photo, he was wearing sweatpants, lounging casually on a bed, his long legs stretching out endlessly. Under the natural light, his skin had a healthy, tanned glow. The veins on his arms were bulging, and his long, slender fingers were resting in a spot that was very hard to ignore. This was a blatant seduction! I silently downloaded and saved the photo. Blushing, I thought to myself, “He’s definitely packing.” While I was brushing my teeth, the doorbell rang downstairs. My housekeeper answered it and immediately let out a gasp. “Maya, come down quick! Look at this massive bouquet of roses.” Roses… How cliché. I took my time going downstairs. I walked over with a look of disdain and briefly glanced at the card. Then I suddenly noticed a delicate jewelry box sitting on top of the flowers. I opened it and gasped—it was my bangle! This was the last gift my dad gave me before he died. After he passed, his company faced a massive financial deficit. I gathered everything of value I owned and put it up for auction. That included this bangle. I remember it was bought by a foreign buyer for almost half a million dollars. Ethan’s friend somehow managed to track down the buyer and bought it back for me. I sniffled and opened his chat. “I got the package. Thank you for getting it back for me. Could you give me your bank account number?” I couldn’t cough up that much cash all at once right now, but I could definitely manage it if we set up a 12-month installment plan. “I don’t want your money. I just want you.” … I expected him to decline the money, but I didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, trying to figure out how to respond. Just then, a call came in. It was Ethan, reminding me not to forget to go to his friend’s birthday party with him today. “Don’t wear anything too revealing. Remember to wear a binder; it makes you look smaller and better.” I agreed to everything he said. Then I turned right around and picked out a low-cut evening gown from my closet. When I arrived, Ethan was laughing and chatting with a group of people. The second he saw my outfit, his face fell. He immediately pulled me aside. “Why did you show up dressed like this?” I ignored Ethan and looked past him into the distance. Amidst a sea of wandering and suggestive glances, I unexpectedly collided with a pair of deep, dark eyes. 03 Julian Thorne sat alone in a corner, meeting my gaze through the crowd and the blaring music. For some inexplicable reason, I felt paralyzed, unable to move a muscle. Julian broke eye contact first. He then downed the drink in his glass in one gulp. He seemed to smirk, but quickly reverted to his usual aloof demeanor. Thump. Thump. Thump. My heart rate suddenly spiked. At the same time, an incredibly absurd thought flashed through my mind: Could it be him? I quickly dismissed the idea. Ever since I met Julian, he had always been icy and distant. He seemed like he didn’t care about anything. Every time I said hi to him, he would just give a curt nod. He treated words like they were made of gold. Forget having a crush on me; there was a time I thought he actually hated me. “Maya Vance, have you gone mute? Say something!” Ethan waved his hand impatiently in front of my face. I furrowed my brow and shook off his hand: “Don’t you think I look good in this?” As I spoke, I deliberately pushed my chest out. Ethan looked like he was seasick. I took another step forward, and he immediately covered his mouth and bolted for the restroom. Ethan suffers from macromastia-induced vertigo. It’s a bizarre phobia, right? What’s even more bizarre is that, despite not being able to handle girls with large chests, he relentlessly pursued me back then. As for how I found out about this condition… It all stems from a hotel stay not too long ago. I was finally ready to fully commit to Ethan. But right at the crucial moment, the idiot literally passed out. Furious, I dumped a bucket of cold water on him to wake him up. Under my murderous glare, Ethan finally confessed. He said he actually prefers the supermodel body type. Slim waist, long legs, small chest. And except for that last part, I was an exact match for his ideal type. His confession made everything click. No wonder he always made me wear a binder. He claimed he was worried about other guys looking and making him jealous. But the truth was, he was the one who couldn’t handle it. When he emerged from the restroom, Ethan walked over to me, his eyes darting around shiftily, and brought up the surgery again. Before I could answer him, I suddenly received a text from an unknown number. “You have a great body. Ethan is just blind. Don’t get the surgery.” It was him! I bit my lip and downed my sparkling water in one gulp. I replied: “Restroom. Meet me?” 04 He seemed startled; it took him ages to reply. “Are you, sure?” “Of course.” “This is too sudden. I’m not ready.” “Never mind then. If you won’t go, I’ll go by myself.” “Wait!” “I’ll go.” Hook, line, and sinker. I told Ethan I was stepping away. Just as I was about to get up, the door to the private room swung open. Looking up, I saw a woman in maternity clothes standing in the doorway. She was looking around, clearly searching for someone. Looks like some irresponsible rich kid knocked someone up. I was just wondering which scumbag was the culprit. But the next second, the woman walked right up to Ethan, crying and making a scene, demanding he take responsibility. Getting a closer look, I realized that body-wise, she was exactly Ethan’s type. Although I had lost all feelings for Ethan. It was impossible not to be angry. After all, I was currently in the process of cheating on him. If anyone was going to hand out green hats, it was going to be me. I thought Ethan was just getting thirsty online; I didn’t realize he was already expecting a child. Dying of shock in my sickbed, the clown was me all along. In our social circle, saving face is more important than life itself. Without giving Ethan a chance to explain, I slapped him hard across the face and left without looking back. I completely forgot about my restroom rendezvous with the mystery man. On the way home, the more I thought about it, the more annoyed I got, so I just told the driver to turn around and head straight to a club. Going through a breakup, plus failing to cheat and getting cheated on instead—I’d be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t have a good drink. I went to Ethan’s regular club and told the bartender to bring out all the top-shelf liquor he had stored there. I invited everyone around to drink with me. I didn’t start feeling slightly better until Ethan’s entire stash was gone. After downing several glasses of hard liquor. My head started spinning. I glanced at the guy sitting next to me. He looked a lot like Julian Thorne. Was he here to drink too? No way. I remember Ethan saying Julian wasn’t into places like this. Even though I seemed to spot him every time I came here with Ethan. “Are you okay?” He looked at me with concern and asked. It seems I really drank too much; I was already hallucinating. I shook my head vigorously. But I lost my balance, and my whole body started falling backward… Before I could even scream. I fell into a solid embrace. The hug didn’t last long. He very politely helped me back into my chair. His fingers flashed past my eyes like a blur. For some reason. That image slowly merged with the distinct, long fingers from the ab photo etched in my memory. I thought I must be going crazy. To sober myself up, I ordered a glass of ice water. As I reached for it, I accidentally bumped the phone sitting next to it, lighting up the screen. It wasn’t my phone. But the lock screen wallpaper was a picture of me. Judging by the angle, it was clearly taken secretly… 05 I woke up in bed. I glanced around at the furnishings. It was my bedroom. So, was I dreaming? But I definitely went to the club, and I definitely drank a lot. As for what happened after I got drunk, my mind was a total blank. When my housekeeper brought me some hangover soup. I asked her who brought me home last night. She seemed very excited, saying it was a tall, incredibly handsome young man. “Way more handsome than Ethan.” She made sure to add that before leaving my room. Honestly, Ethan wasn’t bad-looking at all. To say this guy was even more handsome… A face, cool and striking, popped into my head. But he really didn’t seem like the type to harbor a secret crush. A guy like him could have any girl he wanted. The more I guessed, the more flustered I got, so I just decided to check the security footage. After setting the time, a Bentley with a vanity license plate composed entirely of the same number appeared on the screen. When the driver opened the door, I saw myself resting peacefully in Julian’s arms. He first politely greeted the housekeeper. Then, carefully, as if holding a child, he carried me out of the car. After laying me on my bed, he gave me a kiss on the forehead—a kiss he clearly thought was stealthy. Oh my god! I slammed the laptop shut with a smack, my face burning, grabbed my phone, and opened my DMs. Julian had sent me a “good morning” sticker an hour ago. I don’t usually like playing games. But teasing him a little wouldn’t hurt. My very first message was: “I’ve seen through the illusions of the mortal world, and I’ve decided to close my heart to love.” He panicked immediately. “Please don’t!” “You have to believe true love still exists in this world!!” “It’s not worth it for a scumbag!!!” I went full manipulative-drama-queen mode: “You and Ethan are good friends. I don’t want to ruin your relationship.” “He’s not my friend. If he wasn’t constantly forcing his way into my circle, I wouldn’t even acknowledge him.” “Ethan is a complete hooligan and a bastard. I’m cutting ties with him right now.” He really didn’t hesitate for a single second. Satisfied, I sent him a cute emoji and asked if he missed me. “I did.” “Prove it.” An image. I tapped it open without a second thought. The next second, I nearly dropped my phone. “Julian Thorne!” “Have! Have you no shame!”

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I woke up at 3 AM with an urgent need to use the bathroom. Still half asleep, I grabbed my phone and headed to the bathroom, planning to scroll through TikTok while taking care of business. The moment the screen lit up, I saw a system notification: [Password entered incorrectly 5 consecutive times. Please try again in 8 minutes.] 01 Try again in 8 minutes? I froze, reading the sentence out loud involuntarily. Almost immediately, I realized something was horribly wrong. I always used Face ID or my fingerprint to unlock my phone. I rarely typed my passcode, and it was impossible that I would type it wrong five times in a row. Moreover, I had been dead asleep. I had just woken up seconds ago. A cold sweat broke out across my back. Whatever residual sleepiness lingered in my brain evaporated instantly. I remembered my phone’s factory settings: If the passcode is entered incorrectly too many times, the phone locks for ten minutes. I looked down at my phone again. In other words, exactly two minutes before I woke up— Someone was in my bedroom, holding my phone, trying to unlock it! And that person… Was highly likely still inside my apartment! 02 The moment the realization hit me, I moved as fast as humanly possible. I locked the bathroom door as quietly as I could and drafted an emergency text to 911. Making sure I included my exact address and a brief description of the situation, I hit send. After doing that, I leaned back against the bathroom wall. I had never been in a situation like this before, and my legs felt like jelly. Thank God for the modern emergency dispatch system. The nearest precinct had officers on duty 24/7. Once a text-to-911 is received, police are usually dispatched and on the scene within ten minutes. I had actually just seen a public service announcement about texting 911 a couple of days ago. I never expected I’d have to use it so soon. I looked down at my phone. The [Delivered] status under my text message finally gave me a slight sense of relief. It was the dead of night. The vast majority of the building’s residents were fast asleep. Everything around me was terrifyingly quiet. I bit my lip hard, forcing myself to stay calm. The only sound I could hear was my own trembling, shallow breathing. The thought that an intruder was standing right outside, separated from me by only a single wooden door… My adrenaline spiked violently, and my mouth went completely dry. I swallowed hard. Suppressing the violent pounding of my heart, I pressed my ear flat against the frosted glass of the bathroom door. Several minutes passed. There wasn’t a single sound coming from outside. It seemed like nothing was happening. I checked my phone again. 3:05 AM. It had been exactly five minutes since I woke up. I started analyzing everything that had just happened in my head. And a few alternative theories started to form. Could it be that I had accidentally rolled over onto my phone in my sleep and triggered the lock screen myself? I nodded silently to myself. —It was definitely a possibility. I was a very restless sleeper. Every morning, I woke up in a completely different position than how I fell asleep. It wasn’t entirely impossible that I had unconsciously mashed the screen in my sleep and triggered the lockout feature. But regardless. As a woman living alone, it was better to be safe than sorry. Especially since the police hadn’t replied with a solid confirmation yet. I gripped my phone tightly, not daring to breathe loudly, keeping my ear pressed to the door. But right at that moment, a soft rustling sound came from behind me. My breath hitched violently in my throat. At the same time, the faint, flickering glow of a streetlamp cast a shifting shadow against the bathroom wall! A wave of pure ice shot up from the soles of my feet. It looked exactly like… Someone was standing right behind me! 03 I sucked in a sharp breath. My breathing grew ragged and heavy. A voice in my head started screaming. Turn around. Turn around. TURN AROUND! Unable to suppress the overwhelming terror any longer, I mechanically turned my head— It was just the bathroom window. I had left it open. The autumn wind on the 18th floor was strong late at night. The blinds were being blown back and forth. The slats rubbing against each other created that soft rustling sound. In the dead silence, a sound I normally wouldn’t even notice had become deafening. … It was just a false alarm! To keep the bathroom ventilated, I almost always left that small window open 24/7. Even at night. I was probably just so terrified that I completely forgot about it. I was scaring myself to death! I patted my chest, annoyed at my own forgetfulness. A bitter, self-deprecating smile touched my lips. However, before I could even let out a sigh of relief… A dark shadow flashed sharply across the floor right at my feet. This time, I saw it with absolute clarity! It was absolutely not the shadow of the blinds. It was the shadow of a person, cast through the gap under the bathroom door by the ambient light in the living room! My pupils shrank to pinpricks. That person really was still inside my apartment! The very next second. CRASH! The sharp sound of shattering glass erupted from outside the door. I violently flinched. I immediately recognized the sound. The intruder had knocked over the glass vase in my living room! I held my breath, trembling as I dropped to my hands and knees, slowly lowering my head toward the floor. Lower, lower, just a little lower… And the moment I looked through the gap under the door. What I saw— Was the contorted, terrifying lower half of a man’s face! 04 “AHHHHH—” I screamed at the top of my lungs, the piercing sound tearing through the silent apartment. I lost my grip on my phone, and it plummeted straight down. Smack! The phone hit the ceramic tiles with a heavy, sickening thud. I didn’t dare reach down to pick it up immediately, terrified the man would suddenly kick the door in. My entire body went rigid. I stared dead at the shadow outside the door. But the man outside seemed just as startled by my scream as I was. He froze in place. Through the door, I could hear his heavy, ragged breathing. It sounded like he was analyzing the situation. Then, he turned and ran toward the front door. A series of rapid, heavy footsteps. SLAM! I jumped. It was the heavy, unmistakable sound of the front door slamming shut. After that, the apartment returned to dead silence. I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue. The metallic taste of blood grounded me, bringing back my sanity. My chest was heaving violently, and large beads of sweat rolled down my hairline. Did he run? Since I heard the door slam… Did that mean the man had finally left my apartment? No! I shook my head, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead. What if he did that on purpose to trick me? What if he was gambling that I would let my guard down and step out, so he could ambush me? Right now, he could be standing perfectly still in the living room, waiting for me to walk right into his trap! I finally reached down and picked up my phone. Wiping the screen, I realized the impact against the tile had left several large cracks across the glass. But thank God, the 911 dispatcher had replied. They told me to stay calm, lock myself in a safe room, avoid confronting the intruder, and promised that officers would be on the scene within five to ten minutes. A surge of relief washed over me. The police were almost here. That was the ultimate lifeline. As long as I could hold out for a maximum of ten minutes, I would be safe! 05 I looked around the bathroom, grabbed the heavy mop from the corner, and held it up like a spear, aiming it directly at the door. The police were still a few minutes away. Anything could happen in that timeframe. I had no actual weapons in the bathroom; this was the only thing I could use to defend myself. If the intruder came back, I was absolutely not going to just stand there and wait to die. Thinking of this, I opened my contacts and found the number for Mr. Miller, the security guard on duty at the front desk of my building. I sent him a rapid-fire text: [Mr. Miller, someone broke into my apartment! I already texted 911!] [The guy realized I was awake and ran out the front door. Can you please keep an eye on the lobby cameras? Look for anyone suspicious leaving the building right now!] [If someone looks sketchy, try to stop them!] [But if it’s too dangerous, don’t engage! Just memorize what he looks like and what he’s wearing for the police! Thank you SO MUCH!!!!!] I used a ton of exclamation points to emphasize how serious this was. Mr. Miller, the guard on duty tonight, was a solidly built guy in his late thirties. Word around the building was that he made a fortune in crypto, retired early, got bored sitting at home, and took the security job just for something to do. He worked out constantly and was built like a tank. Handling an average burglar shouldn’t be a problem for him. The security desk was right in the main lobby on the first floor. No one could enter or exit the building without passing him. After sending the message, I stared at the screen, terrified I’d miss his reply. Luckily, he texted back almost immediately: [Got it. Don’t panic, Chloe. Let me check the cameras right now.] I was incredibly grateful: [Thank you so much! The police should be here soon. You can coordinate with them when they arrive.] I didn’t have any other options. I had just dumped my entire life savings into a down payment for this condo, finally ending years of drifting from one rental apartment to another. If this guy wasn’t caught, I would probably never feel safe sleeping here again. About two or three minutes later, Mr. Miller replied: [Chloe, I’ve been awake at the desk this whole time. Nobody has tried to leave the building, and I haven’t heard anything weird.] [I just checked the playback. Nobody has entered or exited this building since midnight.] [Image Attachment] [Image Attachment] [Image Attachment] [Look, Chloe. Are you pulling a prank on me?] 06 Along with the messages, Mr. Miller sent several screenshots of the lobby security camera feed. I tapped on the images, pinching the screen to zoom in. It was true. The timestamps confirmed that absolutely no one had entered or exited the lobby in the last three hours. But… that didn’t make sense. I frowned deeply. Where the hell did the intruder go? Could he have broken into someone else’s apartment?! After hesitating for a second, I sent Mr. Miller my theory: [Mr. Miller, I’m not joking! I saw a strange man inside my apartment with my own eyes!] [Maybe he snuck into the building yesterday… no, maybe even earlier, and he’s been hiding in the building this whole time.] [There are no cameras in the stairwells, right? He’s probably hiding in one of the stairwells on another floor right now!] Realizing I sounded a bit frantic, I quickly added: [It’s okay, Mr. Miller, thank you. When the police get here, they’ll find him.] As much as I hoped Mr. Miller could catch the guy, this was fundamentally a police matter. If Mr. Miller got hurt trying to help me, I would never forgive myself. Strangely, after I sent that message, Mr. Miller—who had been so responsive just moments ago—didn’t reply. I lowered my phone. In the pitch-black night, I was once again trapped in an agonizing wait. But suddenly, a violent, aggressive pounding erupted against my front door. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! … The knocks were rapid and explosive, terrifyingly loud in the dead silence of the night. I jumped violently, too terrified to even breathe. Was the intruder back? The thought sent a fresh wave of cold sweat down my spine. I didn’t dare speculate. I stayed hidden in the bathroom, furiously texting 911 to ask for an ETA. Seeing the dispatcher reply [Units are pulling up now], I gripped my phone tight. Hurry. Hurry. Please, hurry… I prayed silently in my head. But outside, the knocking escalated into a violent, desperate hammering. SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! … Just as I raised the mop, preparing for a fight to the death… A woman’s voice yelled from the hallway: “Is anyone in there?!” “Chloe! Are you home?!” “If you’re in there, open the door!” 07 I froze. I recognized that voice! It was Sarah, the woman who lived in the apartment directly across the hall from me. “Chloe, are you in there?! Is something wrong?! I thought I heard a weird noise coming from your place!” “Are you okay?! Don’t scare us! Open the door!” “If you’re okay, say something!” Sarah kept pounding on the door, yelling into my apartment. Her voice was hoarse, and she sounded genuinely panicked. Sarah was famous in our building for being incredibly warm and neighborly. She had always looked out for me. I remembered when I first moved in, it was right around Thanksgiving. Sarah saw that I was spending the holiday alone and brought over a massive plate of homemade turkey and stuffing. When the pipe under my kitchen sink burst last week, Sarah made her husband come over and fix it for me. Because of that, whenever I ran into her and her husband in the elevator, I always made sure to chat with them. It seemed my scream earlier had woken her up. Worried about me, she rushed over to check. I kept the mop wedged against the doorframe and cracked the bathroom door open just a tiny fraction. Now, I could hear it perfectly. The person standing outside my front door was definitely Sarah. But I still couldn’t completely let my guard down. Holding the mop like a spear, I mustered my courage, stepped out of the bathroom, and slowly inched my way toward the entryway. After ensuring the living room was completely empty, I carefully pressed my eye against the peephole to look outside. But I couldn’t see anyone. —Everything was completely black! Was the peephole blocked by something? I frowned. Just as I was trying to figure it out, the black mass shifted. What was revealed next… was the bloodshot white of an eyeball! The peephole wasn’t blocked by an object… The person outside was pressing their eye directly against the glass, trying to look inside my apartment! A wave of dizziness hit me, and I instinctively stumbled backward. My legs gave out completely, and I collapsed onto the floor. The voice from outside called out again: “Chloe! Chloe, can you hear me?!” “Honey, if you’re okay, please say something!” “Mr. Miller from security is here too! He said someone broke into your place! We’re all so worried about you!…” 08 The flashing red and blue lights illuminated the night sky. Several patrol cars were already parked outside my building. I was sitting on my couch, wrapped in a blanket, while Sarah sat next to me, rubbing my back. Two officers were sweeping my apartment, while others, guided by Mr. Miller, were checking the security cameras and sweeping the rest of the building for suspects. The commotion had woken up a lot of the residents, and a small crowd had gathered outside my open front door, whispering among themselves. An officer stood in the hallway, calming them down while asking if anyone had seen anything suspicious that night. Watching all of this, Sarah hugged me tightly, her eyes full of pity. “You poor thing. You must have been terrified.” A profound sense of warmth washed over my heart. It turned out that shortly after Mr. Miller got my texts, he left the desk and rushed upstairs. When he got to the 18th floor, he bumped into Sarah, who had been woken up by the noise and had come out to check on me. Because I hadn’t answered the door, they were terrified something horrible had happened to me inside. Desperate to see if I was okay, Sarah had pressed her eye against the peephole, which was what scared me half to death. “So it was just a misunderstanding. I’m so sorry for making you guys worry,” I said to Sarah, feeling deeply embarrassed. “As long as you’re safe! That’s all that matters!” Sarah smiled gently, stroking my hair to comfort me. At that moment, the lead officer walked over to ask some routine questions. “Ms. Davis, did you get a clear look at the intruder’s face?” “The apartment was completely dark, and I didn’t turn on any lights…” I tried to recall the chaotic flashes of memory, feeling a bit lost. But then, I quickly added: “But I am absolutely certain it was a man! And I checked the time—it was definitely before 3:10 AM!” The officer nodded, jotting everything down in his notepad. He asked a few more questions, but since I had been hiding in the bathroom the whole time, there wasn’t much more I could tell him. Just as I was getting frustrated with my lack of helpful information, the officers who had been sweeping the building walked in to report. “Captain, we reviewed the lobby footage. No unauthorized personnel entered or exited the building tonight, and the perimeter sweep came up clean. Also, Ms. Davis lives on the 18th floor. Given the height, the intruder almost certainly entered through the front door.” I stood up anxiously. “What about the bathroom? I leave my bathroom window open 24/7. Could they have used climbing gear or a rope to repel down from the roof?” The young officer looked at me and smiled gently. “Ms. Davis, real life isn’t an action movie. Given the architectural layout of this building, pulling off a stunt like that would be incredibly difficult. And even if a professional thief managed it, they would leave traces. We checked the exterior walls outside all your windows—there are absolutely no scuff marks, rope burns, or footprints.” “We can definitively rule that out.” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but look at my front door. “Then… the intruder really did come through the front door.” My front door had an electronic keypad lock. Hearing my realization, the captain nodded, confirming my theory. “Some electronic locks have known security vulnerabilities, making them susceptible to hacking or brute-force tools. But more often than not, people use birthdays or anniversaries as their PIN, making it incredibly easy for someone who knows you to guess it.” “Also, if you aren’t careful when typing it in, someone walking past could easily memorize your code.” I sighed heavily. It wasn’t like I didn’t know the risks of electronic locks before I bought one. But I’ve always been incredibly forgetful. I constantly locked myself out of my old apartments and had spent a small fortune on locksmiths over the years. So, after weighing the pros and cons, I had installed a keypad lock when I bought this place.

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To make sure I wasn’t being catfished, I asked a psychic streamer to calculate my online girlfriend’s true weight. The Master did his math and said, “Your girlfriend is 98 pounds. She’s got a great figure.” Before I could celebrate, he added: “However, her weight is going to change drastically today. The heaviest part will be 6 pounds; the lightest will be 2 ounces.” As I was wondering what that meant, a comment flashed across the screen: [Oh no, your girlfriend is getting dismembered today!] 01 Seeing that comment, I lost my cool. “That’s not funny, guys. Don’t go around wishing death on people.” But Master Sterling just looked at the camera. “Kid, you’ve watched my streams before. Think about it—do I ever joke?” This was Master Sterling. He had been streaming for years and had never been wrong. People fought for a chance to get a reading from him; I only got through today because of pure luck. I panicked. “Master, is she really going to… you know?” Mia was only 21. She was kind, gentle, and sweet. There was no reason for her to die like that. But the Master nodded. “I’m afraid so.” “Can I tell her to hide at a police station? I’ll call her right now.” “A violent omen is heading straight for her life path. Even if she dodges it now, she won’t escape the next one,” he said, shaking his head. I couldn’t sit still. “Who is trying to hurt her?!” “I don’t know. Even if I did, I couldn’t say. Leaking the secrets of the universe brings a heavy price.” He refused to give more details and warned me: “Don’t be impulsive. If you interfere with someone else’s karma, you’ll be dragged down too.” I couldn’t just watch. I dialed Mia’s number immediately. Yesterday, she complained to me about a guy living in the apartment above her. He kept dropping cigarette butts on her balcony, ruining her laundry. She was planning to go upstairs and confront him today. Could that be it? A fight with a neighbor ending in murder? The call went through. Mia’s sweet voice answered, “Hey, babe! What’s up?” “Mia, did you go see that guy upstairs?” I asked frantically. “Don’t go! Stay away from him!” Mia sounded confused. “Why?” Remembering the Master’s warning, I tried to be vague. “I’m just worried. You’re a girl going to a stranger’s place alone. I don’t want you getting bullied.” “But… I already went.” “What?!” Mia sounded indignant. “You were right, though. That guy is a total psycho. Not only did he scream at me, but he actually threatened to hack me to pieces with a cleaver!” I swore under my breath. “Did you call the cops? Lock your doors and windows! Call the building manager!” “No need for all that drama,” Mia giggled. “I moved out.” “You moved?” “Yeah. I don’t have much stuff anyway. One suitcase was enough for the essentials.” In the background, I heard the mechanical voice of a public announcement system. A train station. “Where are you now?” “I’m coming to see you! I’m already on the Amtrak,” she said tentatively. “Is that okay? I already broke my lease.” The people in the livestream were watching me make the call. The chat was scrolling like crazy: [Damn, that’s bold!] [She’s coming straight to his door. Don’t waste the opportunity, bro!] [98 pounds and moving in? You’re a lucky man.] I wasn’t in the mood for their jokes. The train from the next city took only twenty minutes. She’d be here any second. This was my chance to protect her. I told her I’d be there to pick her up and hung up. “Master,” I asked, “She’s moved out and she’s on a train. Is she still in danger?” “As of right now, her fate hasn’t changed.” My heart sank. “I can see you’ve got a good heart, kid. I’ll give you one more hint.” He pointed to a white card on my desk. “Tear that card in half.” I was confused but did it anyway. “Now flip it over,” he said. I looked at the back. I realized it was a photo—a Polaroid a friend took of me at the beach. I had left it face-down on my desk weeks ago. “You’ve already stepped into the karma of others. Your final state will be exactly what’s in that photo.” The photo was torn in two. In the picture, I was smiling in front of the ocean, but my head and my body were no longer connected. 02 The chat exploded. [Holy crap, the head is gone. Is this guy for real or just a hack?] [How did he know that was a photo? Must be a paid actor in the stream.] [Yeah, and he said he couldn’t leak secrets, then he goes and shows him that?] The Master spoke up: “I can’t reveal the secrets of heaven to everyone, but I have the spiritual protection to resist the fallout. You ordinary people do not.” The doubts continued. One comment caught my eye: [Wait, don’t you need a birth date and time for a reading? This guy never gave his birthday.] Right! I hadn’t given him any of my info. How could he know my head would be separated from my body? I let out a breath. He almost got me. Livestream psychics are just entertainment, right? I couldn’t take it seriously. I closed the app and got ready to pick up Mia. Since this was our first time meeting in person, I put on my best clothes and bought a bouquet of flowers. When I arrived at the station, Mia’s train had just pulled in. After a short wait, a girl in a white trench coat walked out. She was wearing a matching “couples’ bracelet” I had sent her. It was Mia. She looked exactly like her photos—tall, pretty, and elegant. A total dream girl. The meeting went smoothly. She was a bit shy but politely thanked me for letting her stay. It was clear she was happy with what she saw in me, too. I took her luggage and called an Uber to take her back to my place. While waiting for the car, I asked, “Can you tell me more about what happened upstairs at your old place?” Mia shivered at the memory. “You have no idea. I honestly thought I wasn’t going to make it out alive…” She explained that when she went to confront the guy, his door was slightly ajar. She knocked for a long time, but no one answered. So, she just pushed it open. “There was a loud thumping sound inside. Like someone was chopping something. Thump, thump, thump. It was so loud he didn’t hear me.” She paused, swallowing hard. “I walked into the living room and called out. He finally heard me and came out of the kitchen.” I found myself getting tense as she spoke. “The guy was huge. He had this long, nasty scar across his face. He was holding a knife dripping with blood. It was all over his pants. I almost died of fright right then and there.” “But…” “Even though I was terrified, I told him to stop dropping cigarettes on my balcony.” “What did he say?” Before she could answer, a horn honked. Our Uber had arrived. We sat in the back seat together, and Mia continued: “After I told him why I was there, he went ballistic. He screamed at me for coming in, completely ignored what I said, told me to get the hell out, and promised to gut me!” “Why was he so aggressive?” I asked. Mia frowned. “I don’t know. As I was leaving, I glanced into the kitchen. The counters were covered in blood. And the thing on the cutting board… it was weird. I couldn’t see clearly from the door, but it was a pale body with dark hair. I don’t know what kind of animal it was.” I felt a chill. “What if it wasn’t an animal?” “Oh god! You don’t think I stumbled onto a serial killer, do you?” I tried to comfort her. “Probably not. What are the odds?” “I hope so. But either way, I couldn’t live under a guy like that. I had to get out.” Then, the driver in the front seat let out a chuckle. “That’s funny.” Mia was startled. “What’s funny, sir?” The driver had been listening to us. He sounded like an expert on the subject. “You kids have quite the imagination. Dismemberment? Do you know how much strength it takes to chop up a body? Unless a guy is built like an ox, he isn’t doing that alone.” I looked at the driver. He looked to be in his late fifties, gray hair at his temples, looking fairly energetic. He didn’t look like a bad guy. Mia thought for a second. “Is a pro boxer strong enough? That neighbor had trophies and boxing certificates all over his walls.” The driver made a sound of surprise. “Well, then, maybe. My son is a heavyweight boxer. Those guys are all muscle. They definitely have the strength.” I looked at my own skinny arms and silently put my jacket on. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore, so I changed the subject. The station was crowded with cars. The driver’s phone rang. After a quick talk, he turned to us. “Hey, do you guys mind a carpool? My son just arrived at the station too. If I pick him up, I’ll give you half off the fare.” I wanted to say no—I didn’t want to look cheap on our first date—but Mia beat me to it. “Sure! We can do a carpool.” She smiled at me. “Every dollar counts, right? You don’t mind, do you?” “Not at all.” I admired how down-to-earth she was. I pulled out my phone and peeked at the Master’s stream again. People were still asking about me. I typed: [Picked up the girlfriend. Everything is fine. Thanks for the concern.] “Babe, look at that.” Mia nudged my elbow. She was pointing at a dark stain on the back of the front seat that trailed down to the floor mats. It was dark and dry, hard to see on the black interior unless you looked closely. “Looks like… blood,” I whispered. “Probably just spilled some groceries or something.” “My son is here,” the driver said. “Let’s get moving.” A massive, dark-skinned man with bulging muscles opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. The moment she saw him, Mia’s entire body went rigid. She started shaking. Her eyes went wide, her eyelashes trembling. “What’s wrong?” I whispered. Mia pointed a shaking finger at the man in front. “It’s… it’s him…” She was so terrified she had lost her voice. “Damn it, what a bad day!” the man in the front seat growled to the driver. “That girl from downstairs saw me today. I heard she took a train here to the city. I need to find her and kill her before she talks.” My heart stopped. Is he…? “Watch your mouth! We have passengers,” the driver scolded him, then turned to us with a fake smile. “Sorry about that. My son talks nonsense. He’s never killed anyone.” The scarred man finally looked at us. He stared at Mia for two seconds, then slowly licked the scar on his lip. “Dad, quit the act. This is the girl from downstairs.” Holy… “Are you sure?” the driver asked. “I’d know that face anywhere.” “Well then.” The driver reached under his seat and sighed. “I hate to get my car messy again.” He pulled out a long, blood-stained meat cleaver. I went into a state of primal shock. I tried to pull the door handle, but it wouldn’t move. The windows were locked. The car had been modified. The driver floored the gas. He handed the cleaver to his son. The scarred man shifted in his seat, tilted his head, and looked at us with a grin. “So, which one of you goes first? Do you want to be chopped up, or should I just take the head?” 03 Mia was hyperventilating. “I… I didn’t see anything today! Please, just let us go!” I was terrified. “Listen, man, this is a misunderstanding. Don’t do this! I have thousands in my account. I’ll transfer it all to you right now. Just drop us at the next light, okay?” Silas, the scarred man, raised the blade. “You think I’m an idiot? If I let you go, I get the chair. Your money isn’t worth my life!” He swung the cleaver. I dove down, feeling the cold steel whistle over my head. I felt a chill on my scalp. I touched my head—a large chunk of my hair had been sliced off. One inch lower and my skull would have been split open. “Son, wait,” the driver said. “There are cops everywhere checking for DUIs this close to the holidays. Let’s get out of the city limits first.” “Fine.” Silas didn’t put the knife away. He forced us to transfer all the money in our bank apps to his account. “Don’t even think about calling for help, or I’ll hack you both before the cops even get a block away.” We obeyed. He took our phones. Then he leaned back to rest. We were leaving the city. I debated lunging for the steering wheel. But if we crashed and didn’t die, he’d kill us. If we crashed too hard, we’d die anyway. “Cough… cough…” Mia started coughing. She caught my eye and pointed toward the floor under the driver’s seat. Something shiny was there. A blade? Hope flared. If we had a weapon, we had a chance. I signaled her to grab it. Mia was smart. She used her foot to hook it out and then reached down. But then she let out a blood-curdling scream. “AHHHH!” She threw the object away. It landed right on Silas’s lap. It wasn’t a blade. It was a severed human finger. A woman’s finger with a long, glittery acrylic nail. The “shine” we saw was the rhinestones on the nail. 04 “Oh.” Silas looked at the finger. “Hey, it’s that girl from two nights ago.” He picked it up and played with it. “She was pretty, but she didn’t have much cash. My dad likes to rob passengers, but that’s boring. I like the art. I like the way a body comes apart.” He turned around and smiled at Mia. “Especially one as pretty as yours.” He kissed the severed finger, his eyes lecherous. “You’re much prettier than she was.” I was shaking with rage and fear. I knew this road. We were heading toward the rural outskirts. There was a three-way junction ahead. Two led back to the city; one led to the isolated farm country. They’d take the isolated one. The roads there were full of speed bumps because the locals were always trying to catch people speeding so they could “fine” them. I felt my keys in my pocket. There was a small folding box-cutter on the keychain. “Ryan, when he tries to kill me, just run,” Mia whispered, crying. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.” “Don’t,” I whispered back. The driver saw us in the mirror and smirked. “Mia,” I whispered as low as possible. “Remember that game we played? The one with the rope and the knife?” Mia froze, then her eyes widened. She understood. We had played a survival game together online. We had won a match once by using a cord and a knife inside a vehicle. As the city faded into farmlands, Mia asked, “Can we open a window? It’s hot in here.” Silas growled, “You’re about to be dead. You don’t need air.” Mia took off her trench coat. It had a long, sturdy leather belt. I gripped my box-cutter. The car turned into the rural road. Silas started sharpening the blade. I counted the distance. There was a steep hill coming up with five consecutive speed bumps at the bottom. The car would have to slow to 15 mph. 300 yards… 200 yards… 100 yards… 50… 30… “MIA!” Mia lunged. She looped the leather belt around the driver’s neck from behind, braced her feet against the seat, and pulled with everything she had. “Shit!” Silas yelled, swinging the cleaver at Mia’s head. I threw myself over her, grabbing his arm. Silas was a heavyweight boxer; he was pure power. Even with my adrenaline pumping, I was losing. My strength was failing… “Watch out!” Mia ducked. The cleaver smashed through the side window. The driver was gasping, clawing at the belt. The car swerved wildly, the horn blaring. Silas pulled the knife back to swing at me. I took the box-cutter and stabbed it repeatedly into his arm. He let out a roar of pain. The driver, turning purple, lost control. The car hit the speed bumps, flipped twice, and crashed into a muddy cornfield. “Mia! You okay?” I was dizzy, my head ringing. But the door, damaged from the flip, popped open.

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When my husband cheated on me and filed for divorce, I, a full-time housewife, fought tooth and nail for custody of my son, even though it meant walking away with absolutely nothing. I poured my heart and soul into raising him, scraping together every penny to send him to a top university. And what did he do? He immediately ran back to his father to take all the credit. He didn’t even bother to look back as my dead body rotted in my apartment. Reborn, I woke up on the exact day of my divorce. My son smashed a bowl on the floor and screamed at me: “If you want to divorce, then divorce! Just don’t drag me down with you, you broke loser!” I stared at him for a long time. Then, I gave a faint smile. “Fine. I won’t take you.” 01 After graduating high school, my son was accepted into a prestigious state university. He immediately ran off to his father’s house to celebrate. Meanwhile, I was bedridden with a severe illness, completely alone. On my deathbed, I called him to tell him I was dying. “What the hell does you dying have to do with me? You dragged me through three years of miserable poverty! You deserve to die!” … The building manager couldn’t reach my son until the day of my cremation. “Tyler! Do you still want to go to college?! If you don’t come right now, I’m reporting your behavior to your university!” Only then did my son reluctantly show up to collect my urn. A neighbor lady was so furious she pointed a finger right at his face: “Your mother worked a street food cart day and night for three years just to pay for your tutoring! You ungrateful little monster!” My son argued back with utter disdain: “My dad runs a massive business, my stepmom is an executive, and my grandma loves me! Did I ask her to be my guardian? She worked herself to death because she wanted to!” My soul twisted in the air with pure rage. I screamed at him: “You blind, heartless bastard! If they actually loved you, why did they plot to force me to take custody of you?!” But my son couldn’t hear me. He just hugged the urn and walked away impatiently. Even when I was alive, he never listened to a word I said. I watched helplessly as he walked out of the apartment complex, looked left and right, and then casually dumped my urn straight into a public trash can. He even dusted off his hands, like he had just thrown away a piece of disgusting, cursed trash. “Haha, finally nobody to nag me! Boys, log on! Let’s play some ranked!” He eagerly pulled out his phone and launched his favorite mobile game. In that moment, my heart died completely. Not a single tear would fall. I didn’t know what I was even hoping for anymore. I watched him play match after match, until the sky went dark. Until his brow furrowed, and his face turned pale. I thought he had finally realized that he truly didn’t have a mother anymore. Instead, he patted his stomach and muttered in annoyance, “Why hasn’t Grandma called me for dinner yet? I’m starving to death.” My heart went entirely cold. Every ounce of maternal love I had evaporated, and I slowly calmed down. Honestly, I always knew my son resented me. 02 During his sophomore year of high school, he threw a tantrum demanding a $60 in-game skin. I said no. He suddenly snapped, shoving and hitting me. “This is all your fault! If I lived with Dad, he’d buy me whatever skins I wanted! You have no money, why did you even try to keep me?!” He shoved me so hard I hit my head on the corner of the table, bleeding, but he just ran off without looking back. I searched the streets for him all night, clutching my bleeding head. The next day, he came home wearing brand new designer clothes and shoes, smugly bragging that his dad had bought him ten different game skins. Even earlier, after middle school. His grades weren’t high enough to get into the prestigious public magnet school. I suggested he repeat the year and promised to help him study. “I’m not repeating a year! I’m not humiliating myself like that!” He went looking for his father. His father happily agreed, then turned around and dumped him into a terrible, bottom-tier charter school. My son came back smug and arrogant, bragging that only his dad could actually solve his problems. But he never stopped to think about it. If it hadn’t been for me, bleeding myself dry for the next three years to micromanage his studying… With his terrible foundation and that garbage school, he wouldn’t have even qualified for community college. How could he possibly have gotten into a top state university? But my sacrifices could never compete with the cheap, flashy bribes his father’s family threw at him. My son firmly believed that I was the only thing preventing him from living a wealthy, happy life. I felt so completely worthless and bitter! Bitter that my sacrifices were treated like absolute garbage! Bitter that my short life ended early because of this ungrateful son! 03 I thought I would carry my resentment into the afterlife. Unexpectedly, an angry roar exploded in my ears: “If you want to divorce, then divorce! Just don’t drag me down with you, you broke loser!” I twitched my stiff limbs. A sharp piece of ceramic from a shattered bowl pierced the bottom of my foot. It hurt! I stared blankly at my son’s greasy, acne-covered teenage face. It slowly dawned on me that I had been reborn. Reborn to the day right after his middle school graduation, the day I discovered my husband, Mark, was cheating, and I demanded a divorce. God was giving me a second chance?! My palms instantly warmed up, burning hot, and my heart pounded violently against my ribs. I desperately suppressed my excitement and said flatly: “I don’t have a job, and I have no income. The judge won’t grant me custody of you anyway.” Mark looked shocked: “Chloe, what are you talking about?! Didn’t you just get a job making $1,500 a week?!” I let out a cold laugh in my head. I remembered the gossip I accidentally overheard from coworkers in my past life. “Our manager, Jessica, is so ruthless. She helped the ex-wife get a job just so she could win custody, killing two birds with one stone and kicking all the annoying baggage out the door.” “Then she’s going to take her own daughter and marry the guy, living a clean, baggage-free life. So savage.” That was the moment I realized Jessica was the HR manager at that company! I had been played! Desperate to survive, I swallowed my pride and didn’t confront her. But Jessica burned the bridge immediately. A few days later, she fired me, claiming my “skills didn’t match the position.” People who didn’t know the truth thought I was a nepotism hire and cheered when I was let go. In that moment, I couldn’t defend myself, and I lost all hope. Now, my son charged at me with a demonic expression, clawing the air like he wanted to rip my face off. “I don’t care what schemes you pull, I’m not going with you! Bullshit $1,500 a week, what company pays a glorified nanny that kind of money?!” I laughed. A chilling, freezing laugh. Thanks to the constant brainwashing from my mother-in-law and Mark, my son genuinely believed that I—his mother—was the most useless, worthless person in the family. That I was nothing more than a live-in maid worth maybe $500 a week. I grabbed his hand, lightly tossed it aside, and gave a half-smile. “Your dad was just joking. He and your Aunt Jessica are very well-off financially. I’ll feel perfectly safe leaving you with them.” My son froze instantly. “Your Aunt Jessica is a highly educated professional. I’m sure she’ll treat you just like her own biological child.” My son puffed his chest out, completely agreeing: “Duh! Aunt Jessica and I get along great! She totally understands me, and she really likes me!” Understands that you want to play video games all day? Likes buying you skins, praising your gaming skills, and telling you you’re going to be a pro esports player? I didn’t even bother arguing. Mark, however, panicked. He paced around the room anxiously with his hands on his hips. “Chloe, didn’t you just say that if Jessica has another baby, the dynamic between the three kids would be too complicated and hard to manage? What the hell are you trying to pull now?!” He was still dreaming of dumping me and our son to start his shiny new life, hoping I’d walk away with absolutely nothing. I apologized sincerely: “I was being too narrow-minded before, I’m sorry. I trust that you’ll love Tyler, and I trust Jessica will treat all the kids equally.” Mark choked on his words, while my son wore a smug “glad you know your place” expression. I gave a faint smile and quickly scribbled a few lines onto the divorce agreement. “Mark, I have all the evidence of you and Jessica cheating. I don’t want the house or the car. I just want $120,000 in cash.” I didn’t have time to haggle with them. I just wanted to take what I could get quickly. Besides, the housing market was going to crash in a few years anyway; that house wouldn’t be worth much. Mark was caught completely off guard by my decisiveness and tried to use our son as leverage against me. I just casually tossed out a line: “Didn’t you always claim you loved Tyler more than anything? Are you really going to nickel and dime over a little bit of money?” This was exactly what he used to block me in my past life. I wanted to see how he was going to maintain his “perfect, intellectual gentleman” facade in front of his precious son. My son chimed in carelessly: “Dad, just give it to her! You and Aunt Jessica make plenty of money anyway! But make sure you add a clause in the agreement: absolutely no visitation rights! We’re just paying to get rid of her!” Mark suddenly thought of something, gave a dark smirk, and threatened: “Chloe, I know you hate me and you’re just doing this to spite me. I can give you the money, just don’t back out later.” I rolled my eyes, grabbed the document, and signed my name. “You!” Mark instinctively reached out to grab my pen. I sighed at my son: “Tyler, looks like your dad doesn’t value you as much as you thought.” My son’s face changed immediately. He stood up and demanded: “Dad, what does that mean?! Just pay her so she’ll leave!” Mark frowned tightly, clearly hesitating. I knew he couldn’t bear to part with the money. After all, that $120,000 was the entirety of our liquid savings. Heh, well then, don’t blame me for targeting your true love. “Oh my, speaking of my new job, I think I heard a woman named Jessica referred me.” I spoke slowly, enunciating every single word. “A stay-at-home mom with zero corporate experience somehow lands an offer as a department supervisor at the Sterling Corporation? I should really go ask the CEO about that—” Mark’s face instantly went pale. He cut me off: “Enough! Let me think about it for a few days!” I sneered: “What, do you need to ask your mistress for permission before she even moves in? I might not be offering these same terms in a few days.” With me saying that, Mark was obviously too embarrassed to call Jessica for help in front of me. Plus, he had our son standing right there being an absolute idiot teammate. He agreed to my terms. I was planning to drag him straight to the courthouse to file the paperwork, but then Jessica called, crying that she was spotting. Father and son completely forgot about me and rushed out the door in a panic. Their retreating figures looked quite pathetic. Heh, panicking? I wasn’t panicking at all. In this life, my son was no longer my weakness. Did Jessica really think she could pull the same trick as my past life? Force me to take the son so her perfect family of four could live happily ever after? Not a chance in hell! 04 As soon as they left, I packed my bags and moved out. I hit the ground running, starting my new life! Actually, the moment I was reborn, my career plan was already mapped out. In my past life, because of Jessica, I entered the corporate world. In my 30s, with zero experience, I couldn’t compete with the young grads. I ended up a laughingstock and got fired. Go back to running a street food cart? In a few years, thousands of college grads would flood that market. They were willing to hustle, their food was trendy, and they knew how to market themselves online. The only reason I managed to scrape by in that brutal market back then was pure, grueling effort. I set up earlier than everyone else, and stayed later than everyone else. I hauled my cart from location to location just to sell out my daily prep. Then I came home to check my son’s homework and help him study. That’s why my body broke down so fast. Now, I knew my limits, and I knew how to leverage my strengths. If I entered the high-end domestic staffing industry… First, I was relatively young and had a degree from a top-tier state university. Second, I was an absolute master at childcare and household management. I could endure incredible hardship. My weaknesses would instantly become my greatest assets! I was confident I could build an empire in this industry! In my past life, when I was still at that corporation, I heard a rumor that the CEO, Mr. Sterling, was a single father with a daughter about to enter high school. He posted a massive bounty across the company, asking for recommendations for a reliable, elite estate manager. Someone who could manage their household and tutor his daughter in high school subjects. The salary he offered was staggering. If you passed his interview, he was willing to pay $8,000 a month! After I was fired, I was incredibly tempted to try for it. But when my son heard I wanted to be a “nanny,” he threatened to kill himself. He said I was embarrassing him. Plus, he argued I hadn’t touched a textbook in decades, so how could I possibly tutor a high schooler? But now, none of those things were problems! I confidently called Mr. Sterling, claiming someone from his company recommended me. He asked me to introduce myself. “I scored a 1550 on the SATs back in the day, and if I took a practice SAT right now, I guarantee I wouldn’t score any lower!” I spoke eloquently, though a wave of bitterness washed over my heart. Back then, I wasn’t just smart; when I started college, I was easily one of the prettiest girls in my class. After marrying Mark right after graduation and spending over a decade as a stay-at-home mom, I had become old and overweight, completely losing my former radiance. After my son finished the SATs in my past life, I secretly took the test myself at home. I scored a 1580. Every single point was built on my profound, agonizing love for my son—a love he treated like garbage. “As for my tutoring style, you can test me in person.” I didn’t flinch on this point either. I managed to drag my absolutely atrocious, rebellious son into a top university. I refused to believe there was a student I couldn’t teach. Mr. Sterling then asked about my household management experience. I gave a bitter smile: “Does 16 years as a live-in maid count?” “My special skills include cooking one-handed while holding a baby, eating one-handed while holding a baby, and mopping one-handed while holding a baby.” “I can also flawlessly mix baby formula and change diapers in my sleep.” “In emergencies, I have the stamina to stay awake for 48 hours straight taking care of a crying, sick child.” Mr. Sterling laughed. “You have a great sense of humor, Ms. Chloe. And it sounds like you truly know the meaning of hard work.” I smiled back, tears pricking my eyes. “Absolutely. Mr. Sterling, never underestimate a woman forged on the battlefield of domestic life.” Mr. Sterling had a good first impression of me and invited me for an in-person interview. But even though we had a great conversation, he said he still needed to think about it. I knew I still lacked some of his requirements. Finally, he politely declined: “I have a daughter about to start high school. If you had certifications in nutrition, health management, or formal estate management, I think you’d be a much more competitive candidate.” Hope instantly flared in my chest: “Understood! I hope Mr. Sterling will give me another chance in the future!” As soon as I hung up, I frantically enrolled in massage therapy classes, childcare certification courses, and even a holistic nutrition program. I also signed up for a premium gym and yoga studio. I didn’t bat an eye at dropping $100 an hour for personal training sessions! Now, I knew how to invest in myself! Having lived through death, I knew that relying on anyone else was useless; you can only rely on yourself. Besides, I was currently technically a housewife, spending Mark’s money. If I didn’t spend it, someone else would. Mark broke very quickly. He called me, demanding I come back and finalize the divorce. 05 The second I walked into the house, I knew there was going to be a brutal fight. My mother-in-law, who was usually out dominating the local senior citizen Zumba groups, was surprisingly home. The moment she saw me, she started slamming things around and complaining: “What? Going on strike over some minor disagreement? Are Tyler and I just supposed to starve?” My son, however, casually brushed it off: “If she doesn’t want to cook, she doesn’t have to. Grandma, the takeout we’ve been ordering these past few days is amazing! Especially the fried chicken!” My mother-in-law choked on her words, her face twisting in anger. I looked at my son’s acne-covered, greasy face, and felt absolutely zero emotion. The kitchen sink was radiating a foul smell, and the trash can was overflowing. I ignored it all, wiped the dust off a chair, sat down, and mocked them: “Mom, you should really save your energy to train your new daughter-in-law.” “I’ve cooked for you for over a decade. Can’t you even give me a break on the day of my divorce?” My mother-in-law furiously threw her dish rag on the floor, pointing at me through gritted teeth: “Chloe! No wonder Tyler doesn’t want to live with you! You’re petty, calculating, and full of toxic negativity!” I said calmly: “I never wanted custody anyway. Mark cheated on me. Why would I take my son away and let him live a carefree life with his mistress? I’m not that stupid.” Seeing my mother-in-law’s face turn purple, I continued: “Leaving Tyler here to make their lives miserable is exactly what I want.” “You—You!” She stuttered on “you” for a full minute, unable to form a coherent sentence. Finally, she beat her chest and screamed: “This is a sin! Chloe, you’re taking your anger out on him! Our Tyler is innocent!” “Aren’t you afraid he won’t acknowledge you when he grows up? That he won’t take care of you when you’re old?!” He literally threw my ashes in the trash. Not acknowledging me or taking care of me? That was nothing. My heart was ice cold. I fired back without flinching: “Mom, thank you so much for spending all these years dragging my name through the mud and belittling me in front of him. You guys are all the heroes, and I’m the only villain.” “Now, just as you always wanted, I’ve decided to be a lone wolf.” I was giving them this dead-weight grandson for free! You’re welcome! Then I raised my voice and yelled toward the master bedroom: “Mark! Didn’t you call me here to finalize the divorce? Why are you hiding like a coward?” After a long pause, the closed bedroom door slowly opened. Mark walked out, supporting a not-yet-showing Jessica. My mother-in-law rushed over to them, murmuring: “Oh my, be careful with my precious grandson, we can’t afford any more accidents.” My son couldn’t stand his grandmother’s fawning behavior. He slammed his phone down in annoyance. “Grandma! You already have a grandson! Besides, it’s so early, who knows if it’s a boy or a girl!” Jessica gave a soft laugh and said coyly: “Tyler, Auntie flew to a private clinic out of state to get a blood test. It’s a baby boy.” Mark scolded him lightly: “Is that how you speak to Aunt Jessica? Stop storming around the house from now on.” My mother-in-law immediately chimed in: “Tyler, you need to take good care of your little brother. Quick, quick, pick up your mess over here.” My son viciously kicked the coffee table, turned around, and walked away. “Whoever wants to pick it up can pick it up! Stop babying him!” He stormed into his room and slammed the door. Mark’s face flushed red with anger, a flash of profound disappointment crossing his eyes. My mother-in-law quickly tried to smooth things over with Jessica: “He’s still just a kid. I’ll talk to him later. It’s just hard for him to accept right now. You two have such a great relationship, I’m sure he’ll understand.” Jessica’s eyes were red as she nodded, sitting down looking deeply wronged. But I was the only one who saw the dark, venomous, jealous glare my son shot at Jessica’s stomach right before he turned away. In my past life, I took my son and left before Jessica even found out the gender. I did it specifically so he wouldn’t have to see his dad and grandma acting like this over a new favorite. I knew my son was inherently arrogant, selfish, and egotistical. There was no way he could handle a new brother competing for their affection. When we divorced, I kept his fantasy alive because he was still young. I couldn’t bear to shatter his illusion. After all, I was the one shielding him from all the family’s toxic drama. In his eyes, his grandma was a cool, fashionable lady who danced in local shows. His dad was a refined, wealthy, easygoing man who gave him everything he wanted. And now? Let them tear each other apart! If it’s going to be ugly, let it be ugly for everyone. Why should I be the only one bearing all the humiliation, blood, and tears? 06 I’d enjoyed the show enough. I turned leisurely to Mark. I asked nonchalantly: “We already settled the financial assets last time. Since we’re all here, why not just head to the courthouse right now?” Jessica, sitting nearby, said casually: “Chloe, what kind of couple divorces without discussing the children, and only discusses the money?” I raised an eyebrow, looking at Mark and my son (who had cracked his door open). “I thought we had already reached a consensus on this issue. What exactly do you mean, Jessica?” Jessica gave a dry laugh, lying through her teeth: “Of course I want Tyler to stay with us. His grandma and Mark can’t bear to part with him either.” “But as a woman, my personal feeling is that a child is always better off with their mother.” “I honestly never expected you to be so comfortable leaving him behind.” Comfortable? Was this a threat? Saying that if I didn’t take my son, she would mistreat him? I waved my hand dismissively: “You already have a daughter from your previous marriage, so you’re not exactly inexperienced. I feel perfectly comfortable leaving him in your hands.” Jessica looked at Mark in shock. Mark gave her an imperceptible, helpless shake of his head. I understood now. Jessica didn’t actually believe I didn’t want custody. She came here today specifically to test me. My son came out to grab a glass of water, pretending to be casual. But I knew he was listening closely to our negotiation. Jessica glanced at him, then looked at me meaningfully. “Chloe, we’re both divorced moms. To be blunt, a child is better off with their mother.” “Back when I was raising my daughter alone, it was incredibly hard, but I gritted my teeth and got through it. I’m not trying to brag, but fathers are naturally more careless.” “You raised Tyler from the time he was a baby. Are you really willing to just walk away?” Before I could even speak, my son marched over aggressively, pointing a finger directly at Jessica. “Aunt Jessica, why are you trying so hard to kick me out?! Didn’t you say you loved me and wanted to be my mom?!” Jessica looked like she had swallowed a lemon. Her goal was to drive a wedge between my son and me, testing my bottom line. She didn’t realize her words directly threatened my son’s interests. Because my son blamed me for him not living a wealthy, happy life with his dad, he hated me enough to want me dead. If he hated me that much, how much would he hate Jessica for trying to ruin his dream? Sure enough. My son roared even louder: “You brought your daughter into this house to live in luxury, but you’re trying to kick me out to suffer?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” “If you keep acting like this, I’m not going to help you anymore!” He stood there stubbornly, acting like he had some massive leverage over Jessica. I almost burst out laughing. My stupid, naive son. In the past, Jessica coddled and worshipped you because she was a divorced mom with a kid, trying to secure her spot in this house. She had to play nice. Now she has a son of her own in her belly. She holds all the power. Jessica choked down her humiliation. She couldn’t afford to tear her mask off right now, so she tried to placate him: “Tyler, Auntie isn’t trying to kick you out! I love you so much! I was just worried your mom wouldn’t love you anymore.” My son shot me a look of pure disgust: “Tch, as long as you guys love me and care about me, I have everything I need. I don’t need her.” Jessica shot me a provocative look. I just shrugged indifferently. Reverse psychology? Useless! I even gave her a thumbs up: “You are the most successful stepmom I’ve ever seen, Jessica. I truly admire you.” Mark finally lost his temper and stood up: “Enough! Chloe, today is the day I finally realized how heartless and toxic you are!” “You don’t want your son, you just want the money?! Fine! Have it your way!” My mother-in-law pointed at me and cursed: “You better think this through! The second you walk out that door, you won’t get a single penny from Tyler! Even if you get down on your knees and beg me, it won’t work!” Looking at this furious, panicked family, I felt absolutely euphoric! Now it’s your turn to be incompetent, enraged, and drowning in toxic negativity. Jessica couldn’t accept losing $120,000 to me, complaining bitterly: “She’s a stay-at-home mom who hasn’t earned a single cent. Why does she get so much?” “We have three kids to raise now. And she gets to just pack up and live a carefree life?” I just looked at Mark with a silent smile. His face looked terrible as he pulled Jessica aside to explain the situation. Jessica marched back over to me aggressively: “What, do you think you can sue me? I’m a senior executive at that company. At worst, I get a slap on the wrist for ‘poor oversight’. But I’ll sue you for resume fraud!” “I’ll blacklist you across the entire HR industry! You’ll never find a job again!” Back then, my sister-in-law helped me get that job. The whole family had been plotting against me from the start. I had never even written a resume. Jessica was just trying to bully me, assuming I had no connections and no real-world experience, trying to scare me into backing down. Not happening. I slowly pulled out my phone: “Well then, I’ll have to have a nice, long chat with Mr. Sterling about exactly how I got that job.” “A mistress, magnanimous enough to help the original wife bypass corporate hiring protocols? I’m sure Mr. Sterling will want to properly reward such a dedicated employee—” Seeing Jessica’s cold sneer, clearly acting like she had nothing to lose… I slowly read out Mr. Sterling’s cell phone number: “555-458-7…” Her face finally changed. She screamed: “Enough! I’m not arguing with you!” I didn’t want to argue with her either. I held it together until I finally got the official divorce decree in my hands. Then, I leaned in close to her ear and whispered, word by word: “Jessica, you better hold onto your HR Director title at the Sterling Corporation as tight as you can.” Her lips trembled with rage, her eyes glaring at me with pure hatred. I let out a light laugh and strutted away. My son didn’t even look at me once. The family huddled together, looking like a picture-perfect, happy home. Perfect. Since Jessica is so good at buying people’s loyalty, I can’t wait to see… Between my useless, arrogant son and her manipulative scheming, who will ultimately win!

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When we fought, Noah would take off his hearing aid and throw it away. He never allowed me into his real social circle. Once, at a college reunion, someone asked him, “How do you put up with the Sterling heiress’s temper?” Noah pointed to his hearing aid. “I take it off.” The entire room erupted in laughter. 01 Three days after I got back from Europe, I finally returned to the apartment Noah and I shared. The moment I opened the door, it was obvious no one had lived there in a while. Even though the cleaning service came regularly, the lack of human presence was a very tangible thing. I dropped my bag at the entryway and checked the security camera logs. The logs only saved the last thirty days. In that entire month, Noah hadn’t come home once. Fine. At midnight, the speakers in the master bedroom were blasting a heavy bass track. I was lying on my stomach playing a game on my phone. The music was so loud I didn’t hear the front door open. When my music suddenly paused, I thought the house was haunted. I whipped my head around. Standing at the foot of the bed was Noah, wearing his silver-rimmed glasses, looking like the absolute textbook definition of a cold, calculated intellectual. “You’re back?” I turned back to my game, replying casually, “Yeah, got back three days ago.” Noah was silent for a long time. It wasn’t until my match ended that I realized he was still standing there. He said he had been too busy lately, but promised he’d definitely come with me to my next art exhibition abroad. I looked up at him. “No need. I had a great time with my girlfriends.” Later, when Noah finished his shower and got into bed next to me, I instinctively rolled over, turning my back to him. It suddenly hit me. I don’t think I love Noah anymore. Tears instantly welled up, soaking my pillow. I used to think that just being by his side was enough, but human nature is greedy. I wanted Noah to love me back. On the surface, Noah played the role of the perfect, devoted boyfriend. Until that day. That was the day I realized there was an uncrossable chasm between us. He refused to let me truly get close to him. 02 The tech startup Noah currently ran was co-founded with his college roommate. When that friend got married, the invitation was sent to our apartment. Naturally, I assumed Noah would take me to the wedding as his plus-one. I picked out a wedding gift in advance, booked a makeup artist for the morning of, and selected a tasteful, elegant dress that wouldn’t upstage the bride. Then the day of the wedding arrived. From quiet anticipation, to crushing disappointment, to absolute humiliation… the only thing I saw of the wedding was a group photo posted on Instagram by a mutual friend. Noah was a groomsman. And the bridesmaid standing next to him was looking up at him, her eyes sparkling with adoration. When I refreshed the app, the post was gone. I had been blocked from seeing it. I didn’t want to act like a bitter, hysterical girlfriend, crying and demanding, “Why?!” I forced myself to swallow my emotions. When Noah finally came home, I was sitting on the couch scrolling through my iPad. I just casually mentioned, “You’re back.” As he walked through the living room, I pointed to the wrapped gift box on the coffee table. “This is the jewelry I bought for the bride. Make sure you give it to her.” Noah just gave a brief “Mhm.” That incident ripped a massive hole in my heart. 03 The wound finally festered and burst on Valentine’s Day. I went to Noah’s company to take him out to lunch. As I walked past the reception desk, I paused. The receptionist asked, “Hello, who are you here to see? Do you have an appointment?” I was just about to answer when her eyes lit up. She smiled brightly—a genuine, sweet smile, completely different from her customer-service face. “Mr. Wright! Good afternoon!” In that split second, the group photo from the wedding flashed in my mind. I remembered. This receptionist was the bridesmaid. I took a step forward, and Noah’s executive assistant, Mark, tactfully took a step back. I hooked my arm directly through Noah’s. “I’m here to see your boss. Do I need an appointment?” I was looking at Noah, but the words were aimed entirely at the receptionist. It was Mark who answered, though. “No, no, of course not, Ms. Sterling. You never need an appointment. Just call me next time and I’ll come down to get you,” Mark said with a forced, nervous laugh. Noah frowned slightly. “Why didn’t you call ahead?” “Because then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” I said. Though, for Noah, it was probably more of a shock than a surprise. When we stepped into the executive elevator, the receptionist suddenly came sprinting over, clutching a stack of folders, yelling to hold the door. Mark instinctively pressed the ‘open’ button. When she stepped inside, Mark looked like he wanted to die. His face screamed that he wanted to phase through the elevator floor to escape the awkwardness. “Sorry about that!” she said breathlessly. “Mr. Harris needs these files immediately.” Noah nodded. His hearing aid, resting in his ear, was quite visible. Out of nowhere, the receptionist asked, “Noah, does wearing that mean you can hear perfectly now?” She pointed to her own ear. I stared at her, completely stiff. Before Noah could answer, she suddenly realized she crossed a line and quickly apologized. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.” I slowly pulled my arm out of Noah’s grip. He turned his head to look at me. I glared right back. Noah looked back at her and spoke. “If you know it’s rude, you should learn to keep your mouth shut.” His expression was deadpan, his tone completely flat. But the damage was lethal. The young receptionist’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. When she practically ran out on her floor, Mark was the one who had to smooth things over. “I apologize, Ms. Sterling. That girl is Mr. Harris’s wife’s younger sister. She’s just interning here and doesn’t know professional boundaries yet.” I honestly felt bad for Mark. When we reached the top floor, I didn’t step out. I looked at Noah. “Sorry, I forgot I already had lunch plans today.” I was officially canceling our Valentine’s lunch. Mark looked like he wanted to intervene and save the situation. But Noah just stood there and said, “Alright. Call me when you’re done.” The elevator doors slid shut. As the elevator descended, Noah and I held eye contact through the glass doors until the darkness swallowed us. I would never know the conversation he and Mark had after I left. “Sir, aren’t you going to go after her and apologize?” Noah replied, “My only job is to accept whatever she decides. Isn’t that right?” Mark remembered his boss’s background and shut his mouth. After all, the ‘Sterling’ in Chloe Sterling meant Sterling Enterprises. 04 A year later, a mutual friend from our high school got married and invited us both. Noah had a board meeting that day, but after I strongly insisted, he went with me. Watching the bride in her pristine white gown walk toward the groom, my heart suddenly gave a sharp twinge. So this is what a wedding feels like. When the officiant told them to kiss, I looked at Noah. He was already looking at me. After the reception, we drove home in complete silence. My phone buzzed. It was my dad, asking if Noah wanted to come over for family dinner this weekend. I spun my phone in my hand and asked casually, “Are you free this weekend?” Noah was checking his rearview mirror in traffic. “Why?” “My dad… asked if you wanted to come over for dinner.” The visible half of his face stiffened for a second before he said, “I have a business trip this weekend.” I pushed harder. “What about next weekend? Or the weekend after?” Noah said nothing. We drove through a tunnel, the amber lights washing over us and disappearing behind. In the darkness, I asked him, “Noah, do you hate me, or do you hate my dad?” My pent-up frustration spilled over. “Every single time my dad invites you, you always have some excuse.” “Did my dad do something to offend you?” Noah reached out and grabbed my hand. When he finally spoke, he said, “We’ll talk about it when we get home.” His avoidance only made me more furious and reckless with my words. “Noah, are you just completely ungrateful?! My dad has done so much for you!” The brakes slammed hard. Even with the seatbelt locking, I was thrown violently forward. Noah leaned over, gripping my chin with one hand. For a second, I swore I saw pure resentment in his eyes. “You’re right. I’m just the pathetic charity case your family sponsored.” I couldn’t understand. “Noah, this is between you and me. Why do you constantly have to bring up the fact that you were a charity case?” Did he think I looked down on him? Did he think I cared about that? Noah slowly let go of me, his eyes looking dazed. His voice was raspy. “Because that’s exactly what I am.” He reached up and pulled the hearing aid out of his right ear. “I’m also a deaf cripple.” Before I could even process what he had just done, he put the car back in drive. He left one final sentence hanging in the heavy air: “I told you a long time ago.” “We aren’t a good match.” It was true. When Noah finally agreed to date me, he had said, “Even if I never fall in love with you?” It was the first time he had given an inch. I was so shocked I just nodded frantically. So he said, “Fine. Let’s try.” Yes. I was the one who was wrong. The moon was never going to come down just because I asked it to. 05 After that night, without telling him, I flew to London for an art exhibition. For three months, I didn’t initiate contact with Noah once. Noah, however, acted entirely out of character. He would occasionally send me messages—usually when it was night for me, but 3:00 AM for him. “It’s raining. Remember your umbrella.” I ignored him. I went to galleries, went skiing in the Alps, went bungee jumping… After checking off everything on my bucket list, right before I planned to return to the States, I finally sent Noah a text. “When I get back, we need to talk.” He didn’t reply. But the moment I jumped off that snowy peak in Austria, a sudden realization hit me. I needed to stop holding onto him. I had been so obsessed with achieving the “and the princess and the prince lived happily ever after” ending with Noah. But if I actually got it… would it magically erase all the agony I endured to get there? I only went back to our shared apartment on my third day back in the States. Checking the security logs, I saw he hadn’t been home in a month. But he came back at midnight. He told me he would go on the next trip with me. I knew this was his awkward, stunted way of trying to make peace. But I responded with polite detachment. “No need. I had a great time with my girlfriends.” That night, half-asleep, I felt warm skin press against my palm. He was holding my hand. Even someone as emotionally walled-off as Noah must have sensed the shift. The next day, I slept until the afternoon. When I got up, I started packing my things. I had even brought an empty suitcase from my family’s estate specifically for this. When I was cleaning out the nightstand, I opened a drawer and saw a velvet jewelry box I had never seen before. I felt a spike of anxiety. But I reached out and opened it anyway. It was a ring. The exact ring I used to desperately dream Noah would give me. The fading evening sun filtered through the sheer curtains, reflecting off the metal and catching my eye. Engraved on the inside of the band was the word Apple. It gleamed in the light. Inside the box was a small note. It read: “You are the apple of my eye.” You are my most precious person. The date written at the bottom was Valentine’s Day. Two years ago. The sunlight cast a second shadow onto the hardwood floor. I looked up. Noah was home. I picked up the ring, walked right up to him, fighting desperately to keep my tears from falling. I fought so hard the veins in my neck bulged. I shook the ring in his face and demanded, “So what is this?! Is this what you meant when you said—” “‘We aren’t a good match’?!” Noah glanced at the note that had fluttered to the floor and bent down to pick it up. I slapped his hand away. “Speak!” “Did you lose your voice too, Noah?!” 06 Noah always knew exactly how to trigger my deepest emotions. But the truth is, when we first met, we weren’t consumed by this toxic friction and opposition. Noah was a scholarship student in the elite Honors Program. The Sterling Foundation fully funded the tuition and living stipends for all the students in that program. But Noah was unique even among them. Because he was hearing impaired. “Low-income,” “Hearing Impaired,” “Valedictorian”—these buzzwords made him a magnet for local journalists looking for a feel-good human-interest story. The very first time we met, a swarm of reporters was aggressively interviewing him about how it felt to receive the scholarship. One sharp-eyed reporter spotted me getting crushed against the wall by the crowd. “Noah, the girl standing right behind you is Chloe Sterling, the daughter of your benefactor. Is it awkward interacting with her on a daily basis?” Help me. Noah didn’t even know who I was. But Noah just smiled, asked the reporters to step back, and pulled me out of the crushing crowd to a safe spot beside him. “Chloe is wonderful. She’s always been incredibly kind and friendly to everyone.” After surviving that excruciatingly awkward interview, we walked back to the academic building together. As we passed each other in the hallway to go to our respective classrooms… I noticed the device sitting in his ear. “If you wear that, can you hear perfectly?” I asked, genuinely curious. It wasn’t until Noah stopped and turned around that I realized I had said that highly intrusive, rude thought out loud. Noah looked at me with a half-smile and gave a completely irrelevant answer: “I have another ear that works just fine.” If the twenty-seven-year-old Chloe had been there, she would have missed the high school version of Noah so much. Because back then, Noah wasn’t a mute wall of ice. But the girl standing there was seventeen-year-old Chloe. And that bizarre, charming response struck her right in the heart. I decided I wanted to be his friend. I constantly sought him out to chat. Since he was a genius, I used “needing a tutor” as an excuse to hang around his classroom every single day. I even audited some of his classes. During a group English conversation exercise, Noah mentioned that his favorite fruit was apples. So, that Christmas, every single student in the Honors Program found a bright red apple stuffed in their locker. From that day on, the entire Honors Program knew exactly who I was. But only Noah knew that his apple was different. He received a one-of-a-kind Christmas card—the absolute peak of my teenage emotional intelligence. The card read: “You are the apple of my eye.” Even though Noah never formally responded, I could feel his hardened, defensive shell softening toward me. One day after school, I practically dragged Noah to a boba shop to share my favorite drink. Sitting across from him, I kept stuttering, struggling to get the words out. Noah saw me agonizing and finally sighed. “Just spit it out. What do you want?” I gave a victorious grin and stirred my boba with the straw. “Okay, but promise you won’t get mad! I was just curious…” “I googled it, and it said some hearing-impaired people aren’t entirely deaf. What about you?” Noah gave a very gentle smile. “Yeah, that’s right. If there’s a very loud noise right next to my ear, I can hear a little bit.” “Can you take it off?” I asked. Noah was being so compliant that day. He actually took it off. I leaned close to his ear and spoke at a slightly elevated normal volume: “How about this?” Noah didn’t react at all. I got so caught up in the moment that I completely forgot his left ear worked perfectly fine. I leaned into his “deaf” ear and screamed: “I LIKE YOU!” Because I did that, it wasn’t just Noah who found out. The entire boba shop found out.

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I even developed a crush on my archenemy. After sleeping with him while tipsy, I overheard him say: “If we were going to be together, it would have happened a long time ago. Why wait until now?” I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness I didn’t have to take responsibility. Later, when I was getting ready to find my next target. He stormed onto my college campus, looking furious. The corners of his eyes were red, staring at me like I was a heartbreaker. “Audrey, you dare try to hit it and quit it?!” 01 During high school, I had an online relationship for a while, and it was incredibly sweet. I looked forward to coming home from school every night just to chat with him. But before even a month had passed, my parents found out. My parents and my homeroom teacher took turns lecturing me. They said once I got into a good college, handsome guys would be as common as cabbage; I’d have my pick. They warned me not to lose the watermelon while picking up sesame seeds. I listened to them and obediently broke up. Then, pretending to be genuinely remorseful, I tearfully asked who had snitched on me. I wanted to “thank” the person who put me back on the right path. Sure enough, it was Liam Hayes. Our families lived across the hall from each other. We were practically childhood friends. But it seemed like our auras naturally clashed. The moment we were in the same room, we’d start arguing. I couldn’t stand his careless, playboy attitude. He mocked me for having a fiery temper, calling me a tigress. After that incident, I cursed him out thoroughly. Then I unilaterally cut off all contact. Honestly, we both had pretty good grades. Our parents even hoped we’d get into the same university so we could look out for each other. After our SAT scores came out, I immediately changed my preferences and applied to a college on the opposite coast. Now, Liam and I were separated by the entire country, thousands of miles apart. Perfect. I began my college life carrying beautiful expectations. Turns out, after almost a year, I hadn’t met many handsome guys. The ones who added me on social media were either weirdos or creeps. They’d chat for two minutes and then try to invite me out for the night. At first, I even tried looking up my old online boyfriend. Only to find out that the “soulmate” who used to chat with me until midnight had rapidly cycled through several girlfriends. Sigh. What I thought was a gourmet feast… Was actually just spoiled tofu with some rotten cabbage leaves. I really hadn’t experienced anything good. They say the most beautiful romances happen during your teenage years. But why did I have zero suitors during my teenage years? Just endless homework and an archenemy with a seriously foul mouth. I was even nominated in the campus beauty pageant, for crying out loud. Does this make any sense? 02 The summer before my sophomore year, I went home. It was my first time back since starting college. Mr. and Mrs. Hayes across the hall were so happy they cooked a huge feast. Not gonna lie, it was all my favorite dishes. Mrs. Hayes even said Liam was at home, eagerly waiting for me to come over. I didn’t believe it for a second. After high school graduation, I had blocked and muted him. He hadn’t contacted me either. The adult world relies on unspoken rules. If you can’t stand each other, you don’t bother each other. But during holidays, bumping into each other was inevitable. That evening, after getting ready, I went over and knocked on their door. The moment it opened, a handsome face stunned me right where I stood. The handsome guy smiled: “You must be Audrey, right? I’m Liam’s friend, Caleb Reed.” I quickly snapped back to reality: “Hi, nice to meet you!” Looks like I’ll have to unblock Liam after all. Just as I was reaching out to shake the handsome guy’s hand… “Ahem—” A cough from the kitchen interrupted me. Out of habit, I shot an annoyed glance in that direction. But my gaze was firmly caught, unable to pull away. Liam was wearing a simple white T-shirt. At nearly 6’3″, he even had to lower his head slightly as he walked out. The warm, orange light bathed the side of his face, making his features look even sharper and deeper. His long, curling eyelashes cast half-moon shadows under his eyes. He glanced over indifferently. My heart instantly felt like it had been zapped. Beneath the mask was an even more beautiful mask. Behind the handsome face was an even more handsome face. Mrs. Hayes walked out of the room and laughed. “What are you two doing standing in the doorway? Come eat!” “Coming!” I instantly squeezed past the stranger blocking me and hugged Mrs. Hayes. “Mrs. Hayes, I missed you so much!” “If you missed me, you should have come back for Christmas, you heartless girl.” “Oh, come on, I was planning to take my mom to Florida for a trip. Don’t worry, next time I’ll take you and Mr. Hayes!” She was instantly coaxed into a glowing smile, hugging me affectionately. My eyes, however, unconsciously drifted towards Liam. He raised an eyebrow: “What are you looking at?” The familiar voice, the familiar punchable expression. Confirmed, he hasn’t been swapped out by aliens. But was he this handsome before? 03 When I got home, I dug out all our old photos to compare. Hiss, it seems he really was remarkably good-looking even when we were kids. Taking off the school uniform elevated him more than just one level. How did I not notice this before? After all this time, the one who hits every spot on my aesthetic checklist is my archenemy. Does this make sense? Before going to sleep, I scrolled through tons of thirst-trap videos of handsome guys, trying to suppress my restless, lustful thoughts. As a result, in my dreams, Liam appeared wearing a black dress shirt, seducing me. I woke up with a dry mouth. I hurriedly sought advice from my college roommate, Chloe. On the video call, she laughed for a good while before sitting up straight. “Is it possible… you’re attracted to him?” “Impossible!” I retorted without a second thought. Chloe looked at me as if she had seen through everything. “As expected, distance makes the heart grow fonder.” I hung up on her with a deadpan expression. Liam was taking his friend Caleb out. My mom, harboring some unknown intentions, insisted I go along too. She said Caleb was a polite, well-behaved guy, and a top student. Most importantly, he lived nearby. She wanted me to make friends with him. I thought about it, it made sense, so I didn’t refuse. But every time I tried to strike up a conversation with Caleb, Liam would interrupt. Blocking him, as if demanding my attention. The more I glared at him, the more smugly his lips curled up. Caleb watched us helplessly. He took a phone call midway through, and his eyes lit up. “A classmate is nearby and wants to come over, do you guys mind?” I smiled and said I didn’t mind. Liam didn’t say anything either. But he deliberately walked over to me and leaned in. His intentionally lowered voice pierced my eardrums, magnetic and slightly husky. “Audrey, try using that fake, sweet voice again.” His warm breath brushed against my sensitive skin. Accompanied by a clean, subtle cologne, half my body instantly went weak. I pursed my lips, my gaze unconsciously darting away. Caleb noticed my flushed face. “Are you too hot?” I fanned myself with my hand. “Yeah, it’s pretty hot.” After a moment, Liam let out a sudden, soft chuckle. 04 The person who showed up was a very pretty and elegant girl, Mia Vance. As soon as she got out of the car, her first glance landed on Liam. I turned to look at Caleb. A faint blush crept onto his fair, clean face. Hiss, something’s not quite right here. Mia suggested we do an escape room. Watching her and Liam’s matching silhouettes. A subtle ripple stirred in my chest. Before I even realized it, the staff told us we had to split into two groups. Mia glanced at Liam, a hint of joy and anticipation vaguely showing. My chest tightened for a second. When I looked up, I met his deep gaze. Caleb offered to group up with me. But I could see his reluctance; he was just trying to play matchmaker for them. I suddenly felt a surge of anger. “I’m grouping with Audrey.” Liam spoke flatly, stepping to my side. A flash of disappointment crossed Mia’s eyes. She gave me a complex look, pressed her lips together, and stayed silent. While searching for clues in the dimly lit room, an NPC suddenly jumped out. I froze in terror. Liam grabbed my hand; his palm was warm and large. An indescribable sense of security. The accelerated heartbeat from being scared seemed to slowly change its meaning. After it was over, I hesitated for a while but finally asked him. “Why did you pick me?” Liam paused, looking down at me. “Aren’t you afraid of ghosts?” I suddenly remembered back in third grade, I secretly watched a horror movie on DVD. It scared me so much I had nightmares for nights on end. The light in the hallway was broken, flickering on and off. I was crying, too scared to go upstairs. It was Liam who held my hand and led me up. From then on, he always walked home with me. I remembered Chloe’s teasing words. “You’re attracted to him.” I hid the smile in my eyes. It seemed she was right. 05 Caleb created a group chat for the four of us. Mia sent a link. It was a house party event nearby. Pool, billiards, board games, all sorts of entertainment. Isn’t this the perfect opportunity to deepen relationships? I narrowed my eyes. Two days later, the four of us became six. Chloe brought her boyfriend along to be my wingman. “Don’t you worry, if anyone interrupts you two tonight, my name isn’t Chloe!” I nodded in satisfaction. At the pool party, Mia wore a floral swimsuit that accentuated her slender, beautiful figure. She swam a lap, her movements graceful and eye-catching. Caleb stared at her, almost entranced. I casually slipped a pair of sunglasses onto Liam, who was lounging on a chair. He opened his eyes, tilted his head, and saw the wine glass in my hand. “Are you drunk?” I was about to speak. When Mia swam to the edge, propped herself up, and looked at me, smiling radiantly. But hiding an indescribable hostility. “Audrey, why aren’t you coming in?” I put down the wine glass: “Right now.” Then, stepping in front of Liam, I slowly untied my robe. Revealing the fiery bikini underneath. Liam instantly froze. His Adam’s apple bobbed. The moment I turned around, he pulled the robe tight around me. His voice was hoarse: “Swimming while drunk, are you trying to drown?” Mia’s smile faltered a bit. “What are you guys doing!” He looked over indifferently. “You guys go ahead, I’m taking her upstairs to rest.” Mia’s fingers curled. Just as she was about to say something, Chloe stopped her. With one look, her boyfriend also held back Caleb, who was about to come over. I took the opportunity to lean limply against Liam. I could clearly feel it. His body tensed for a second. 06 Back in the room, Liam poured me a glass of water. I took a sip and opened my tipsy eyes. “What did you give me… it’s so hot…” He remained silent for a long time. “…Hot water.” As he stood up, I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him down. “I don’t believe you.” Smelling his familiar scent. My body went even limper. I flipped over and pinned him down. Liam let out a muffled groan and shifted me up a bit. “Audrey, you’re drunk.” He mumbled something else. I impatiently interrupted. “Don’t understand, just want to kiss.” Liam stopped moving, covered his eyes with his arm, and sighed. “Do you know who I am?” “Yes.” “Will you remember when you wake up tomorrow?” “Yes.” “You—” So annoying, I kissed him. Soft lips, so nice to kiss. I clumsily tugged at his clothes and belt. Accidentally brushing against a certain spot. He let out a gasp, flipped over, and pinned my wrists. Dense kisses trailed downwards. The shimmering reflection of the pool from outside shone on the ceiling. Swaying in my hazy vision all night long. 07 The next day, I woke up with my body aching all over. Looking at the hickeys covering me, I was silent for a long while. I grabbed a sun shirt and zipped it up tight. Liam really was… good-looking and functional. As I was about to go downstairs, I heard Mia’s voice. “Liam, are you… and Audrey together?” I stopped in my tracks, subconsciously holding my breath. The next second, I heard his teasing, laughing voice. “No.” “If we were going to be together, it would have happened a long time ago. Why wait until now?” Mia seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “I see, I thought…” I didn’t listen to the rest and headed straight back to my room. Liam really had thought it through. If we really had feelings for each other, we would have been together a long time ago. Last night was just a moment of madness! Ignoring the subtle heavy feeling in my chest. I let out a breath. It’s fine, I’ll just treat it as ordering a gigolo for a one-night stand. No need to take responsibility, that’s great. So, I sent a quick message to Chloe and the others. Went home, packed my things, and headed back to campus. After the semester started, I ate and drank as usual. Acting like nothing ever happened. In the dining hall, Chloe couldn’t hold it in and asked me: “Did you guys not have a good time that night?” “?” “Was he bad at it?” “??” “Or—” I slapped my hand over her mouth. “We’re just simply incompatible!” Chloe gave me a puzzled look. I sighed internally, not wanting to lose face. I could only be stubborn: “Mainly because I met a better guy.” “Liam? Hmph, what’s so great about him?” A faint, cold scoff suddenly sounded from behind me. “Heh.” “That night, you weren’t saying that.” A chill slowly crept up my spine. My neck stiffened as I mechanically turned my head. Wearing a black windbreaker, looking annoyed, he stood right there. Even the freezing atmosphere couldn’t block the sheer beauty radiating from him. 08 In a secluded grove on campus. Liam approached me step by step with an irresistible presence. “Audrey, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” “Leaving without saying goodbye is one thing, but blocking me on everything? What, afraid I’ll ask you for money?” I cleared my throat, raising my voice to cover my guilt. “That night was an accident anyway, and we’re both adults. Don’t tell me you expect me to take responsibility?” “Can’t handle playing around, Liam?” He let out an angry laugh, grinding his teeth. “Audrey, you’re really something.” “Didn’t learn anything else in college, just learned how to be a player, huh?” I almost blurted out: Who’s the real player here! But seeing his suppressed anger, reason returned. We had always been like this. Fighting tooth and nail, neither willing to back down or admit defeat. Going our separate ways was the best outcome. I looked up at him, my eyes teasing. “Liam, you didn’t fall for me, did you?” His expression froze. The air seemed to stand still. I didn’t plan on waiting for his answer. “Sorry, I already have someone I like.” “You’re not even on the list.” With that, I turned and walked away. Behind me, I seemed to hear a scoff laced with suppressed emotion. I quietly sped up my pace. After my evening class, Chloe sent me a photo. “Hey, your childhood friend hasn’t left yet, his picture is all over the campus confession wall!” “Audrey, are you really not going to go see him?” In the photo, Liam was sitting on a bench next to a streetlight. A baseball cap shadowed his eyes, and under the dim, yellow light, he looked somewhat lonely and pitiful. Wait… him, pitiful?! I wanted to slap myself. Try being delusional about love again, see what happens.

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A notification suddenly popped up in the class group chat. It was a photo. It was a shot of me bending over to tie my shoelaces in the girls’ locker room. My collar hung loose, exposing my chest. The camera angle was deliberate, predatory, and impossible to mistake. The sender was my cousin, Sophie. Her caption was a single word. “Guess.” Every phone in the classroom vibrated in unison. Forty-something heads snapped up, their eyes locking onto me. I looked down at my own screen just as Sophie sent a follow-up message beneath the photo. “Oops, my hand slipped~” That little tilde felt like a twisted blade sliding straight into my ribs. I would soon find out that my sweet little cousin had created five separate group chats. There were 187 people in them. She had distributed over five hundred invasive photos of me. She lived in the apartment building directly across from mine. Her balcony faced my bedroom window perfectly. It took me exactly three months to send all of those people straight to a jail cell or a courtroom. That included my childhood best friend, a boy I had known for fifteen years. I did it because my grandpa, a tough-as-nails combat veteran, taught me a golden rule when I was a kid. He told me that taking a hit in life was fine, but you never, ever swallow their garbage in silence. 1 The photo sat there on the screen. I took a bite of my breakfast sandwich, looking down at the display. It was me. Last week, in the gym locker room. The angle was perfectly calculated to show as much skin as possible without showing my face. The caption read. “Guess who this is :)” That little smiley face was dripping with venom. Every phone in the room buzzed. Forty-something teenagers looked at their screens, then slowly looked up at me. It was like a synchronized military drill. Everyone was staring. Before I could even react, the second message popped up. “Riley, I’m so sorry, my hand slipped~” She actually used the tilde. Sophie. I chewed the rest of my bacon and egg sandwich and swallowed. It was from Mrs. Gable’s bakery down on Main Street, perfectly toasted on the outside and soft on the inside, the savory grease melting beautifully on my tongue. My mom always said this was my fatal flaw. Even if the sky was falling, I had to finish my food first. I set down my napkin and picked up the unopened bottle of spring water from my desk. “Sophie.” She was sitting in the third row. She tilted her head, her eyes curving into sweet little crescents. She looked innocent enough to win an Oscar. “Riley, I swear I didn’t mean to…” The entire classroom went dead silent the second the water crashed down over her head. The silence was absolute. It was like an abandoned alleyway in Old Town at two in the morning. You couldn’t even hear a pin drop. The water washed away the makeup she had spent half an hour applying, turning her face into a muddy watercolor palette. Black eyeliner streamed down her cheeks, her foundation patched and peeled, and one of her fake eyelashes hung precariously off her eyelid, trembling. Her “sweet peach” persona completely dissolved into the puddle on the floor. “Ahhhhh!” she shrieked, her voice pitching high enough to shatter the classroom windows. “Riley, are you insane?!” “Not insane.” I slammed the empty plastic bottle onto the desk. “Just helping you wash your mouth out.” “You… you…” “I’m not great with words,” I said, wiping my hands on my jeans. “But I have great aim.” A few guys in the back row erupted into laughter. Someone yelled out to Sophie to calm down, another whistled, and a few kids were literally slapping their desks in hysterics. Sophie’s eyes went red. Her lips trembled. “I was just playing a joke! If you had a problem, you could have just talked to me! Did you really have to humiliate me in front of the whole class?!” I knew this routine by heart. Provoke, play the victim, and then flip the blame. The desperate influencers hawking cheap detox teas down by the historic botanical gardens had worse acting skills than her. “A joke?” I took a step forward. She instinctively flinched backward. “Sophie, we’ve known each other for exactly three days since you transferred here, and we’ve spoken maybe ten sentences. What part of my personality made you think I’m the kind of person who enjoys being the punchline of a joke?” She opened her mouth but nothing came out. I shifted my gaze to the window seat in the front row. Tyler. I had known him for fifteen years. We practically grew up in the dirt behind the Old Town apartments. We tested into Westside High together and ended up in the same homeroom. He was athletic, possessed a sharp jawline, and half the girls in our grade worshipped him as the untouchable varsity star. Whenever anyone picked on me, he was always the first to stand up. Back in freshman year, a guy threw my backpack into the girls’ bathroom. Tyler chased him down three blocks, pinned him against the brick wall outside the downtown promenade, and forced him to apologize to my face. But this time, he didn’t move. He just sat there, his back to me, his shoulders rigid like a stone statue. I stared at the back of his head for five long seconds. He didn’t turn around. Fine. What was that internet quote? Rely on a man, and you’ll be miserable for a lifetime. I pulled my gaze away and turned to head back to my desk. That was when Tyler finally stood up. He walked over to me. His lips parted, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Riley.” His voice was low, almost a whisper. “She just transferred here. She doesn’t know any better. Just… let it go. For my sake.” I blinked. And then I laughed. “For your sake?” I looked dead into his eyes. “Tyler, what exactly is your pride worth? Ground beef is five bucks a pound down at the local butcher. Can I trade your pride in for a couple of steaks?” The classroom roared with laughter. Tyler’s face cycled through shades of red and white, changing colors faster than a traffic light. I ignored him, bent down, and picked up a printed copy of the photo someone had dropped. I folded it neatly and shoved it into my pocket. Then I looked up and addressed the entire room. “If anyone took a picture or recorded a video of what just happened, do me a favor and send it to me. I want to keep it for my memoirs.” Harper, my desk mate since freshman year, was the first to start clapping and laughing. The laughter spread until even the guys in the back row couldn’t hold it in. I sat back down and pulled my textbook out of my bag. My palms were slightly damp. Not from the heat. It was the adrenaline. My hands were still shaking from gripping that plastic bottle. I remembered Grandpa’s words. He was the one who taught me how to throw a proper punch. His first lesson was simple. “Riley, taking a hit is fine, but you never swallow their garbage.” I wiped the sweat from my palms onto my jeans. After school, Sophie cornered me in the hallway. She had changed her clothes and redone her makeup, slipping right back into her sweet little “sunshine” routine. But her eyes were totally different. I had seen that look before. It was the look the feral cats in our neighborhood got right before they pounced on a sparrow. “Riley.” She stepped uncomfortably close, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Do you know what happened to the last girl who got a photo of herself sent to a group chat? She cried way harder than you did. She got on her knees and begged me. She begged for three straight days. And do you want to guess what I did? I recorded her begging on her knees and sent it to the entire school.” The corners of her mouth twitched upward as she spoke. It wasn’t a smile. She was actually getting off on the memory. I clenched my fists. My fingernails bit into my palms, sending sharp spikes of pain through my skin. But I didn’t move. She tilted her head, studying me like a fascinating insect pinned to a board. “Aren’t you curious who she was?” “No.” “She was from Seattle. We went to the same school,” Sophie hummed. “I heard she dropped out. They say she’s still in intensive therapy.” She let out a soft sigh, as if she were lamenting a rainy Tuesday. “Honestly, I didn’t want it to go that far. But she insisted on fighting me. When she realized she couldn’t win, she cried. When crying didn’t work, she snitched to the teachers. Tell me, doesn’t someone like that deserve exactly what she gets?” I stared at her. “Sophie, does your mother know you act like a psychopath at school?” She blinked, surprised, and then a genuine laugh bubbled from her throat. “My mom? My mom is the one who taught me. She said, whoever blocks your path, you destroy them.” A cold chill crawled up my spine. It wasn’t fear. It was the sudden, horrifying realization that she wasn’t just naturally cruel. She had been meticulously programmed to be a monster. And that was infinitely more terrifying. She patted my shoulder, playing the role of the loving cousin. “See you tomorrow, Riley.” She spun on her heel and pranced away, her twin ponytails bouncing. I stood rooted to the linoleum floor, watching her disappear around the corner. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Harper. “Riley, check the class chat now!” I opened the app. Sophie had sent another photo. It wasn’t of me. It was a screenshot of a handwritten diary page from some anonymous girl. A single line was circled in bright red digital ink. “I hate her, but I hate myself even more.” The caption read. “Guess whose diary this is :)” That same twisted smiley face. I stared at the glowing screen, my fingers turning ice cold. I closed the chat and immediately texted my cousin, Alex. He was a junior at MIT majoring in computer science. He and his frat brothers were the ones who actually coded our high school’s alumni forum years ago. “Alex, I need you to run a deep background check on someone for me.” “Who?” “Sophie. Aunt Brenda’s daughter.” He sent a string of question marks. “Aunt Brenda’s kid? Isn’t she your cousin?” “Yeah.” “What did she do?” “She set up a group chat specifically to distribute creepshots of me.” He went totally silent for a few seconds. When he replied, it was a voice memo. His usual playful tone was completely gone. “Send me everything you have. IP addresses, group IDs, screenshots. I’m on it.” I forwarded him every single screenshot I had saved from the morning. I stood in the empty hallway, looking out the window. The October sky over the city was burning a brilliant, bruised orange. A commuter train rattled by in the distance, the metallic clatter carrying on the wind. The night market down on Main Street would be setting up right about now. The smell of roasted garlic and grilled skewers was probably drifting down the block. I suddenly really wanted a hot, fresh slice of pizza. The kind right out of the oven, where the cheese burns the roof of your mouth. My phone buzzed again. It wasn’t Alex. It was Harper. “Riley, I did some digging. That group chat has 187 people in it. Tyler is one of them.” I stared at that sentence for ten solid seconds. Then I typed. “Send me the screenshot.” She sent the member list. Member number 34. Tyler. His profile picture was a shot of him playing basketball. I recognized it. I was the one who took it during the championship game last year, right after he hit a three-pointer and flashed a peace sign at my camera. I stared at that tiny circle for a very long time. Outside, the sky faded to black. Another commuter train rolled by, the metallic clatter fading into the dark. I shoved my phone into my pocket and walked out to the bike racks. As I rode down Elm Street, the autumn leaves crunched dryly beneath my tires, sounding like shattered glass. I thought of another thing Grandpa used to say. “Riley, the scariest thing in this world isn’t your enemy. It’s the person you thought would never, ever hurt you.” I didn’t understand it back then. I understood it now. When I got home, Mom was buzzing around the kitchen. The rich smell of beef stew filled the apartment. She took one look at me and paused. “Why are you so pale?” “It’s nothing.” “Nothing? You look like a ghost.” I didn’t answer. I kicked off my sneakers, walked into the kitchen, and stood right behind her. She was chopping onions, not even turning her head. “Hungry?” “Yeah.” “Give it a minute. It’s almost done.” “Mom.” “Yeah?” “If someone was bullying me, what would you do?” She put the chef’s knife down and turned to face me. The exhaust fan hummed overhead. The stew bubbled violently in the pot. “Your Grandpa always said, taking a hit is fine, but you never swallow their garbage.” She looked me dead in the eye. “Did you swallow their garbage?” I blinked, and then a slow smile crept onto my face. “No.” “Good.” She turned back to the cutting board and aggressively chopped an onion. “Now eat.” That night, I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t sleep. My phone screen lit up the dark room. A text from Alex. “Got the IP trace. The admin’s location is in the Old Town grid. Same neighborhood as you.” I sat up. “Sophie lives near me?” “More than near.” He paused before sending the next text. “She lives in the building directly across from yours. Her balcony has a direct line of sight to your bedroom window.” I slowly turned my head toward the glass. The building across the street. Sixth floor. The light was on. There was a silhouette standing completely still behind the sheer curtains. I stared at that shadow for a long time. She didn’t move. I didn’t move. Then, my phone vibrated in my palm. Class group chat. Sophie. “Good night, Riley~ See you tomorrow :)” The tilde. Always that damn tilde. I placed my phone face down on the mattress and closed my eyes. Grandpa, you taught me that when something is unforgivable, you fight back. Tomorrow, I’m going to show you a war. 2 When I parked my bike at the school gates the next morning, the atmosphere felt toxic. It wasn’t the usual quiet chatter. It was the suffocating silence of a bomb waiting to go off. Harper was waiting for me by the entrance. The second she saw me, she practically tackled me, shoving her phone into my face. “Riley! You need to look at the school forum right now!” The pinned post at the top of the feed read: Riley’s Secret Menu at the Family Diner. I scrolled down. The post was a meticulously crafted fiction, claiming my family’s diner offered “special favors” after hours, and that I was the “star attraction.” It even included a photo of me working the cash register, heavily edited with a sleazy, neon-pink filter to make it look like a cheap escort ad. The comment section was an absolute dumpster fire. “No wonder she always wears tight shirts.” “That side of Old Town is sketchy anyway, I’m not surprised.” “She looks exactly like the kind of trash who’d do that for money.” I scrolled through the comments one by one. My knuckles turned white from gripping the phone. Harper’s eyes were red with fury. “How can they say this?! It’s entirely fabricated!” I didn’t say a word. Because I noticed a very specific detail. The original photo of me at the cash register was from a post I made on Instagram last week. It was locked to close friends only. That meant whoever posted it was on my friends list. I clicked on the original poster’s profile. It was a burner account, zero history. But thanks to the trick Alex taught me last night, I pulled the IP metadata. It matched the Old Town broadband network. Sophie’s house. “It’s fine,” I said, handing the phone back to Harper. “Let’s go to class.” “Fine?! They’re calling you a literal prostitute, and you say it’s fine?!” “If anyone is going to be in trouble over this, it’s them.” I pushed my bike toward the racks. “I didn’t invent the lies, so why should I panic?” Harper froze, then jogged to catch up with me. “What are you going to do?” “Go to first period. What else?” I didn’t hear a single word the teacher said all morning. I wasn’t panicking. I was just trying to solve a puzzle in my head. Why was Sophie doing this? Why did she harbor this deep, psychotic hatred for me? Was it just because our grandfather left a slightly larger chunk of the inheritance to my dad? I dug through my childhood memories. Sophie used to come to our apartment when we were little. She wore her hair in cute little buns and chased me around calling me her big sister. My mom used to peel shrimp for her at dinner, and she would eat until her face was covered in grease, smiling so hard her eyes vanished. She didn’t look like a psychopath back then. When did the switch flip? Probably the year Grandpa died. At the funeral, Aunt Brenda shattered a glass on the floor in front of the entire family. She pointed a shaking finger at my dad and screamed, “Dad was a biased old fool! Why do you get the lion’s share? Is my daughter not his grandchild too?!” Sophie had stood behind her mother, her head bowed, totally silent. I had tried to hold her hand that day. She violently yanked it away. She never called me her big sister again. During lunch, Brooke walked over to my table. She was in the grade below me, the head of the student council’s disciplinary committee, and notorious for taking zero prisoners. Rumor had it a senior tried to cut the lunch line last semester, and she literally picked up his tray and walked away with it, telling him to learn how a queue worked. “Riley.” She dropped into the plastic chair across from me. “Did you see that trash on the forum?” “I saw it.” “Do you know who posted it?” “Sophie.” She blinked, surprised. “Are you absolutely sure?” “I’m sure.” Brooke pulled her phone from her pocket and pulled up a massive file of screenshots. “My cousin sent me these. She lives in Seattle. She was best friends with Sophie’s last victim.” I took the phone. The screenshots showed a locked cloud drive titled The Collection. Inside were dozens of folders filled with invasive photos of different girls, screenshots of desperate text messages, and photos of stolen diary pages. “Sophie ruined three girls in Seattle,” Brooke said, dropping her voice. “The first one transferred out of state. The second developed severe depression and dropped out entirely. The third is the one who wrote the diary. She’s still a complete wreck.” I scrolled through the terrifying digital trophy room, a cold numbness spreading through my chest. “She keeps this cloud drive to catalog her victims. She scrolls through it late at night, like someone looking at a family photo album,” Brooke said grimly. “My cousin said Sophie isn’t right in the head. She’s a sadist. She physically gets off on destroying people.” I handed the phone back. “Why are you helping me?” Brooke looked me dead in the eye. “Because my cousin told me the girl who dropped out is still in intensive therapy. She wakes up screaming from nightmares about Sophie’s face. I refuse to sit back and watch you become another casualty.” I let the silence hang for a moment. “I won’t be a casualty.” “I know,” she said, standing up. “But when you need an army, you call me.” She took three steps, then turned back around. “Oh, by the way. That forum post dragging your name? I already had my cousin forward the screenshots to the Seattle alumni groups. People over there are going to find out exactly what Sophie has been up to very shortly.” I stared at her in shock. “When did you do that?” “First period.” She walked away without looking back. “Stop trying to carry the world on your shoulders when people are trying to break your spine.” By first period after lunch, a new post had erupted on the school forum. Sophie, Do You Have the Guts to Tell Us What You Did in Seattle? Brooke didn’t post it. I did. I organized all the screenshots Brooke gave me and laid them out like a prosecutor presenting evidence to a jury. The Collection drive, her expulsion records from Seattle, the testimonies of the three victims. I kept the sensitive details redacted, but the message was devastatingly clear. The comment section immediately violently turned against her. “Holy shit, she’s a serial stalker?” “No wonder she transferred. She was chased out of town.” “What the hell is ‘The Collection’? That is actual serial killer behavior.” “I thought she was a sweet girl, turns out she’s a poisoned apple.” But there were still a few cowards defending her. “Riley is probably no angel either. Why would Sophie only target her?” “Do you have proof for any of this? Spreading rumors is a crime, you know.” “Takes two to tango. Riley definitely provoked her.” Harper was so furious she was ready to wage war in the comments, but I grabbed her wrist. “Ignore them.” “But they’re—” “They don’t matter.” I stared at the screen. “Only one person matters right now.” Sophie. Half an hour after the post went live, she texted me. “Riley, are you investigating me?” Followed by a smiley face. “I’m so scared~ But honestly, what you found is just the tip of the iceberg. I have so many more pieces in my Collection. Do you want to see them?” I took a screenshot of the threat. Then I typed my reply. “The master password to your cloud drive. It’s the anniversary of your dad’s fatal car crash, isn’t it?” She didn’t reply. I had bet everything on that guess, and I won. I didn’t actually know her password, but I knew her father had died in a horrific wreck when she was twelve. It was the deepest, most agonizing wound in her life. It was the one thing she refused to let anyone touch. I touched it. I pressed my thumb right into the wound. She panicked. That was all I needed. After the final bell, I marched straight to Mr. Brown’s office. He was the school counselor and head of discipline. A forty-something, balding man with a beer belly that looked like he was six months pregnant. His greatest talent in life was sweeping problems under the rug. If kids got into a fistfight, he blamed both of them. If a girl got harassed, he told her to “dress more modestly.” I blocked the doorway to his office. “Mr. Brown, I need to file a formal report.” He paused mid-sip of his coffee, looking annoyed. “About what?” I shoved my phone in his face, displaying the forum posts and the group chats. “Sophie is spreading malicious sexual rumors about me, distributing unauthorized intimate photos, and operating a cyber-harassment ring involving over a hundred and eighty students.” He set his mug down, frowning heavily. “Students have little disagreements all the time. I’ll pull Sophie in for a chat tomorrow.” “A chat?” “Riley, do not blow this out of proportion. It looks bad for the school’s reputation.” I stared at his shiny, balding forehead. It reminded me of a quote I read online: You can never wake a man who is only pretending to be asleep. “Mr. Brown,” I said, projecting my voice so every single teacher in the faculty lounge could hear me clearly. “I am going to the police station right now. And when the detectives come to this school to investigate a massive digital sex crime, I will tell them that you explicitly instructed me ‘not to blow it out of proportion’.” All the blood drained from his face. A young female teacher sitting at the next desk nervously whispered, “Mr. Brown, this actually sounds incredibly serious…” He shot her a lethal glare, then turned back to me, forcing a plastic, terrified smile. “Riley, you misunderstood me. What I meant was—” “I understood you perfectly.” I spun around and walked out the door. “And the cops will, too.” As I marched down the hallway, I could hear him stammering behind me, “Wait—get back here!” I didn’t stop walking. I left the campus, got on my bike, and rode straight to the local precinct. It was a ten-minute ride. I parked my bike outside and stared at the heavy glass doors for three seconds. The golden badge on the wall gleamed in the late afternoon sun. Grandpa always said, If you’re in real trouble, you find the uniform. The badge hits harder than any fist. Inside the lobby, a young female officer looked up from the front desk, blinking in surprise. “You’re here by yourself?” “Yes.” “What do you need to report?” I slid my phone across the counter. “A student took non-consensual intimate photos of me, built a distribution network of over a hundred and eighty people to share them, and has engaged in severe cyberstalking. She also tracked me to my home address and sent me photos of my mother through my window.” The officer picked up the phone, swiped through a few screenshots, and her entire demeanor shifted. “Wait right here.” She disappeared into the back offices. Five minutes later, a man walked out. He looked to be in his forties, with a square, hardened jawline. He was wearing plainclothes, but he carried himself with the heavy, exhausted authority of a veteran detective. “Riley?” “That’s me.” “Come with me.” I followed him into a cramped interrogation room. He offered me a chair and handed me a paper cup of water. “I’m Higgins. You can call me Officer Higgins.” “Nice to meet you.” He sat across the metal table, studying me. “You came down here alone?” “Yes.” “Do your parents know you’re doing this?” “Yes. My mom told me to come.” He nodded slowly. “Walk me through it. From the beginning.” I laid out the entire timeline. Sophie being my cousin, the bitter family inheritance drama, the three broken girls in Seattle, the twisted Collection drive, the locker room photos in the class chat, the escort rumors on the school forum, and finally, the creepy surveillance photos of my mom in our kitchen. I talked for nearly an hour. Officer Higgins didn’t interrupt once. He just sat there, occasionally scribbling notes on a legal pad. When I finally finished, the room was quiet. He looked up. “Do you have the digital proof for all of this?” “I do.” I unlocked my phone and walked him through the digital graveyard. The IP traces, the server logs, Sophie’s threatening texts, the forum archives, the Seattle chat logs. He looked at every single image meticulously. When he was done, he leaned back. “You’ve got a very smart brother,” he noted. I smiled faintly. “He’s an MIT computer science major.” Higgins nodded approvingly. “You mentioned she had three group chats?” “More than three.” I remembered the data Alex had pulled the night before. “She set up five different encrypted groups across different grade levels. The total member count…” I took a breath. “Is over five hundred people.” Higgins’ pen stopped moving. He slowly looked up at me. The air in the room suddenly felt incredibly heavy. “Over five hundred?” “Yes.” He put the pen down, leaned back in his squeaky chair, and stared at the ceiling for a long time. Then he stood up. “I’m taking this case.” I was stunned. “Just… like that? You’re taking it?” He raised an eyebrow. “What, did you want me to give you the bureaucratic runaround?” “No, no.” I waved my hands quickly. “I just… I didn’t expect it to be this fast.” He let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Kid, do you have any idea what you just dropped on my desk?” “What?” “Cyberstalking, criminal harassment, and the mass distribution of non-consensual intimate imagery involving minors.” He ticked the charges off on his fingers. “With a syndicate of over five hundred participants. This is a severe, high-level privacy violation and digital sex crime.” He looked me dead in the eye. “With a case like this, we should be thanking you for walking through those doors.” Stepping out of the precinct, the late afternoon sun practically blinded me. I stood on the concrete steps, taking a deep breath. The air smelled like exhaust fumes and freedom. My phone buzzed. A text from Harper. “How did it go?” “He took the case.” She replied instantly. “HOLY SHIT! Seriously?!” “Seriously.” She spammed my phone with a dozen firework emojis. Then she sent another text. “Oh, by the way! The video of you verbally destroying Mr. Brown in the faculty lounge got leaked to the forum! The whole school has seen it. The comments are treating you like a god!” I opened the school forum. The pinned post had changed. Riley Destroys Mr. Brown: ‘The Cops Will Hear You Tell Me to Keep Quiet!’ The shaky cell phone video showed me standing in the doorway, while Mr. Brown sat at his desk looking as pale as a ghost. The comment section had done a complete 180. “This girl is an absolute savage!” “Brown finally got checked! So satisfying to watch.” “I stand with Riley. What Sophie did is legitimately evil.” “Where are all the losers who were defending Sophie yesterday? Real quiet now, huh?” I watched the video loop once, then shoved the phone back into my pocket. I unlocked my bike and pedaled toward home. Riding down Elm Street, the autumn wind sent yellow leaves skittering across the pavement. A street vendor was selling hot pretzels on the corner, the smell of warm dough and melted butter filling the street. I pulled over and bought one. I sat on a wooden park bench, tearing off chunks of the steaming pretzel. It was warm. It was perfect. Grandpa was right. Life is like a hot pretzel. It might look twisted and salty on the outside, but if you bite down hard enough, it’s warm and soft on the inside. My phone buzzed. A text from Alex. “I found something else. Sophie didn’t just build five groups. She built a VIP group. Strictly for the most invasive, explicit material.” “How many people?” “Twenty. Handpicked by her. People she trusted to keep their mouths shut.” I chewed a piece of dough slowly. “Tyler is the admin of the VIP group,” Alex’s text read. I stopped chewing. “What did he post?” “Seven messages. The last three were private DMs sent directly to Sophie.” Alex’s digital tone felt heavy. “It was the raw, uncropped photos of you changing in the locker room.” I stared at the empty street in front of me. The commuter train rattled by in the distance. The sunlight reflected off the steel tracks, blindingly bright. A memory flashed in my mind. Tyler, seven years old, grabbing my hand to pull me across this exact street. He had looked back at me and said, Riley, don’t be scared. I’ve got you. His hand had felt so warm back then. Now, there was nothing left but cold, rotten betrayal. “Riley?” Alex called my phone directly, his voice tight. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” I tossed the rest of the pretzel into a nearby trash can. “Alex, I need you to do one more thing for me.” “Name it.” “Export every single chat log from that VIP group. Don’t miss a single keystroke.” “Done.” I hung up, got back on my bike, and rode the rest of the way home. The wind whipping past my ears was freezing. But inside my chest, there was a fire burning hot enough to melt steel.

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Opening my eyes, I found myself back on the exact day I was supposed to sign my life away. In my previous life, I listened to my wife, Serena, blindly. But the very second she got my signature on the asset transfer, she conspired with her lover to orchestrate a fatal car crash, sending me plunging into the freezing river. What I could never forgive, what truly damned her in my eyes, was what she did next. She cut off the funding for my critically ill mother’s life-saving medication, leaving her to die in agony. And she ruthlessly terminated our three-month-old unborn child without a single ounce of remorse. Right now, Serena walked into the bedroom holding a warm glass of milk. She forced a luxury fountain pen into my palm, her voice dripping with sickly sweet affection. “Babe, if you just sign this paperwork, I’ll finally believe you truly love me.” I stared at her hypocritical, beautiful face for a few seconds before a cold chuckle escaped my lips. Then, without a moment of hesitation, I signed my name on the dotted line. 1 She leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “You’re the best husband in the world! I’m going to go make you a special breakfast!” Clutching the documents, she practically skipped out of the bedroom, her footsteps light and eager. I watched her back, the smile on my lips vanishing inch by inch. I picked up my phone. It rang twice before my assistant answered. “Transfer all core patents to my mother’s name immediately,” I ordered. “Empty the corporate liquid funds and route them into our offshore accounts. Work through the night, bypass the standard auditors, and leave absolutely zero trace.” The line was dead silent for two seconds. “Understood, Mr. Wright.” I hung up the phone and let out a long, heavy breath. In this life, I was going to make them pay in blood. During the day, I played the part of the doting, oblivious husband to perfection. Serena cooked, flirted, and chatted with me, wearing her mask of the perfect, loving wife without a single flaw. She even rubbed her flat stomach, her eyes turning convincingly red as she whispered softly. “Babe, we’re going to have a beautiful baby soon. I’m going to give you the healthiest, perfect little angel.” I smiled and agreed, but my eyes were completely devoid of warmth. Deep in the middle of the night, a faint rustling sound woke me. The space beside me in bed was empty. I didn’t move. I waited until she tiptoed completely out of the master suite. Then, I slid out of bed and followed her barefoot, silent as a ghost. The study door was left slightly ajar, a sliver of yellow light spilling onto the hardwood floor. I pressed my back against the wall and held my breath. From inside, I heard Serena’s voice, trembling with suppressed excitement. “He signed it! He actually signed it!” Next came the voice of her lover, Derek, oozing with greed and malice through the video call. “Let me see it!” Just as I thought. They couldn’t waste a single second once they had my assets in their sights. “Once he’s dead, this estate will be enough to keep us living like royalty for the rest of our lives!” Serena’s eyes practically glowed with avarice. Derek’s next words made my blood boil so hot I nearly kicked the door down to snap his neck. “The brakes are already rigged. We just wait for him to take the coastal highway out by Westridge Canyon. There are so many blind hairpin turns out there. Once he goes over the cliff, not even God could save him.” The phantom sensation of freezing river water flooding my lungs and choking the life out of me surged back into my mind. “His mother burned through twenty grand at the clinic just this month,” Derek continued. “The second Gideon is dead, the first thing we do is pull the plug. We can’t have her fighting us in probate court for the leftover assets.” Serena frowned slightly. “Isn’t that a bit too cruel? It is his mother, after all…” “Cruel?” Derek scoffed. “You didn’t think it was cruel when you scraped his parasite of a kid out of your stomach, did you?” Serena went dead silent. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. My heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice, the pain so intense I could barely breathe. I silently retreated to the bedroom, slipped under the covers, and closed my eyes. The next morning, Serena woke up earlier than usual. She stood in my walk-in closet, meticulously picking out a dark grey casual suit for me. With feigned innocence, she casually made a suggestion. “Babe, the weather is gorgeous today. Why don’t we take a drive?” “How about Westridge Canyon?” I sneered internally, but my face remained perfectly calm. I nodded. “Sure. I’ve been exhausted lately. A drive to clear my head sounds perfect.” 2 “Then it’s a date!” Serena’s eyes lit up. She quickly added, “You should take the Aston Martin. It’s been sitting in the garage forever. It needs a good run.” “Whatever you say.” She nodded in satisfaction and turned back into the closet to change her outfit. Serena, were you really that impatient? I pulled out my phone and shot a text to Marcus, my head of security. “Are we ready?” Marcus replied instantly. “Everything is in position.” I deleted the text thread and slid the phone back into my pocket. Before I left the house, Serena thoughtfully adjusted my tie and pressed the keys to the Aston Martin directly into my palm. “Drive safe, honey. I’ll be waiting for you right here.” I leaned down and placed a flawless, deceptive kiss on her forehead. “Okay. Wait for me.” Wait for the spectacular gift I had prepared for you. The sports car roared out of the gated community, speeding toward the western outskirts. I didn’t drive fast. I intentionally idled at several traffic lights, giving Serena more than enough time to confirm I was on the road. Checking the rearview mirror, I spotted a black sedan tailing me from a distance. It was Derek’s men. I let out a cold laugh and slammed my foot on the gas. Half an hour later, I pulled into an abandoned gas station near the canyon, the prearranged swap point. A black SUV was already idling in the shadows. Sitting in the driver’s seat was my most trusted operative, Jax, a former professional stunt driver. “Bail out at the second hairpin turn. Are you sure you can pull this off? They are tailing me tight. We can’t afford a single mistake.” Jax took the keys to the Aston Martin and flashed a confident grin. “Mr. Wright, I could do this blindfolded.” I patted his shoulder, got into the SUV, and drove off in the opposite direction. … At ten o’clock sharp, breaking news alerts flooded every screen in the city. BREAKING: Gideon Wright, Chairman of Pinnacle Group, missing after fatal car crash off Westridge Canyon cliff. Presumed dead. I was sitting in my heavily fortified safehouse. A massive wall of monitors illuminated the dark room, broadcasting live feeds from my corporate headquarters and my private estate. Everything was right under my nose. On one of the screens, I watched the living room of my own house. Serena was collapsed on the sofa, clutching her phone, crying hysterically. “Husband… how could you leave me all alone… I don’t want to live without you…” I watched her performance with ice in my veins. The doorbell rang. Serena instantly wiped away her fake tears and practically sprinted to the door. Derek stood on the porch, holding a bottle of vintage champagne. “Get in here!” She yanked him inside, slammed the door, and ripped the curtains shut. She began jumping up and down like a lunatic. “It worked. It really worked!” Derek wrapped his arms around her waist, a massive, arrogant grin on his face. Suddenly, Serena pushed him away. She marched to the center of the living room, ripped our massive wedding portrait off the wall, and smashed it onto the floor. She stomped on the glass twice. “Just looking at him makes me sick.” She bent down, ripped my face out of the canvas, tore it in half, and tossed it into the trash can. “I’m hiring a crew tomorrow to gut this place. We’re hanging our wedding photos up instead.” Derek frowned slightly. “Gideon is only listed as missing. He hasn’t been legally declared dead yet. We have to wait out the legal probation period.” Serena’s eyes darted around, calculating. “I’ll file a petition for an expedited death certificate. I’ll tell the courts he suffered from severe clinical depression and had suicidal tendencies.” “I’ve already bribed the medical examiner. We’ll have the court order in three days.” “Once I inherit his company, it won’t matter even if he magically survives.” Derek gave her a thumbs-up. “I always knew I picked a brilliant woman.” Serena smiled smugly, wrapping her arms around Derek’s neck. “So… does that mean we can finally celebrate?” Derek scooped her into his arms and carried her toward my bedroom. Sitting in the glow of the monitors, I casually picked up my teacup and took a slow sip. Serena. Derek. Enjoy the high while it lasts. Because the higher you climb, the harder you will shatter when you fall. Especially that brilliant idea to expedite the death certificate. You just saved me a lot of bureaucratic red tape. I picked up my phone and texted Marcus. “Execute the next phase. Cooperate with her legal filings. Let her officially take over the company. Hand the empty shell right into her greedy hands.” 3 Three days later. Serena successfully forged my psychiatric records and cashed in her bribes. The moment the court finalized the death declaration, she couldn’t stop smiling. She genuinely believed the entirety of Pinnacle Group was now her personal piggy bank. From my safehouse, I watched the corporate boardroom cameras in crystal clear high definition. The atmosphere in the massive conference room was suffocating. The founding executives and core management team were all seated, faces grim. Serena slammed the forged will and the court order onto the mahogany table, her tone dripping with arrogance. “Listen up. Gideon Wright is legally dead. As of this exact moment, I am taking absolute control of Pinnacle Group!” Vice President Bennett, a loyal veteran who had built the company alongside me and owed his life to my late father, immediately slammed his hands on the table. “Ms. Serena, the probate process isn’t even fully finalized. You have absolutely zero corporate management experience. If you take the helm now, you will run this company into the ground!” Derek stepped forward smoothly, tossing a thick stack of printed documents onto the table. He offered a slimy, threatening smile. “Vice President Bennett, I have the exact paper trail of the twenty million dollars you embezzled from the corporate accounts.” “The financial crimes unit is sitting in the lobby right now. Keep barking, and I’ll have them escort you out in handcuffs.” Bennett’s face turned ash grey. He clenched his fists and fell dead silent. Seeing him back down, Serena grew even more power-drunk. She lifted her chin and barked her first order. “From now on, the finance department reports directly to me. Not a single cent leaves this building without my signature!” The moment the words left her mouth, several core executives stood up in perfect unison, exactly as I had secretly instructed them days ago. “Ms. Serena, Pinnacle Group is Gideon Wright’s legacy. We only answer to him. We resign.” Without a shred of hesitation or regret, they turned on their heels and marched toward the exit. Panic flashed across Serena’s face. She shot up from her leather chair and shrieked. “Stop right there! Who gave you permission to leave?” “I am the legal owner of this company! If you walk out that door, it’s a breach of contract! I’ll sue all of you into bankruptcy!” Ignoring her completely, the rest of the room stood up, grabbed their briefcases, and filed out the door. Within seconds, the packed boardroom was entirely empty. A heavy, dead silence settled over the room. Serena stood frozen at the head of the table, her entire body trembling with rage. Derek panicked, grabbing her arm to ask what their next move was. Serena just screamed at him hysterically. “How the hell should I know?! A bunch of ungrateful traitors! Do they think they’ll die without Gideon?!” I watched the two idiots panic on the screen. Every single one of those executives was my person. We had an agreement: the moment Serena officially claimed power, they would trigger a mass exodus. Did she honestly think a piece of paper made her a CEO? Absolutely delusional. Without the core management team, Serena and Derek were nothing but figureheads staring at an empty fortress. They were running around like headless chickens. Desperate to project power, they began a suicidal spending spree. They drained the corporate petty cash to buy luxury sports cars and designer watches. They even forged procurement contracts to siphon cash out of the accounts, turning the ledgers into a chaotic mess. Every single illegal transaction they authorized became airtight evidence for corporate embezzlement. While Serena was frantically trying to clean up the operational nightmare, she finally set her sights on my mother. The security feed captured the audio of her cold, emotionless voice as she called the private clinic. “Hello, this is Serena. Stop all billing for Gideon Wright’s mother immediately.” “Starting tomorrow, cut off all imported medications. Cancel the private suite and dump her in the general ward.” The administrator on the other end must have questioned the decision. Serena snapped impatiently. “That old hag is just wasting perfectly good oxygen. She’s better off dead anyway. That way she won’t be around to fight me for my money.” Staring at the screen, I cracked my knuckles, a dark fury simmering in my chest. In my past life, this was the exact moment my mother’s medications were cut. Three days later, her complications flared up, and she died in agony. In this life, the day after I faked my death, my private security team quietly transferred her to a world-class facility in Switzerland with round-the-clock intensive care. But this recorded phone call? This was ironclad proof of attempted murder. Tomorrow was Serena and Derek’s highly publicized “Chairman Inauguration Ceremony.” They had invited every major media outlet in the city. They wanted to officially crown themselves royalty in the grand lobby of Pinnacle Group headquarters. And I was going to make sure they remembered tomorrow for the rest of their miserable lives. 4 The grand lobby of Pinnacle Group Headquarters. Serena and Derek were desperately trying to hold together an absolutely pathetic inauguration ceremony. Pinnacle Group was currently nothing but an empty shell. But driven by pure arrogance, they had invited over a hundred journalists, hoping to use a flashy ceremony to trick new investors into bailing them out. The crystal chandeliers were blindingly bright, but the guest seating was embarrassingly sparse. The few business partners who did show up had dark, unimpressed expressions. The reporters were whispering among themselves, clearly just waiting for the circus to start. Serena clung to Derek’s arm, forcing a confident smile as she walked down the red carpet, though her perfectly manicured fingers were trembling slightly. The moment she stepped up to the podium, the microphone let out a piercing, ear-splitting feedback screech. There wasn’t even a sound technician to fix the backup audio. The entire administrative department had been reduced to two clueless interns. They couldn’t run a bake sale, let alone a corporate press conference. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to speak through the agonizing awkwardness. “Distinguished guests, members of the press. Due to Gideon’s tragic and sudden passing, I will be taking the helm of Pinnacle Group…” Before she could finish her sentence, the massive glass doors of the lobby were violently pushed open. Every single executive and manager who had resigned three days ago marched back into the building, heads held high. The entire hall fell dead silent. Serena’s face turned sheet white. She pointed a shaking finger and shrieked. “What are you doing here?! Security! Get them out!” Vice President Bennett stepped to the front of the pack, his voice booming across the lobby. “We are here to reclaim the legal management rights of Pinnacle Group!” “Serena and Derek have illegally embezzled corporate assets and maliciously terminated key management. Today, all resigned employees are officially reinstated. Furthermore, we have partnered with the board of shareholders to launch a joint legal strike!” Right on cue, the massive LED screens behind the podium flashed to life. They displayed notices of suspended core projects, massive contract terminations from major suppliers, and the staggering resignation logs. Serena’s sheer incompetence and criminal negligence were broadcast live to every camera in the room.

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