Category: English

My mom was a kid herself when she had me with some punk. We’ve hated each other our whole lives. She hates me for ruining her reputation, her future, her chance at marrying someone decent. I hate her for giving me a childhood with no love, no dad, and no normal family. The day I was born, she tried to smother me. When I was a month old, she left me in the desert for the coyotes. When I was five, she tried to sell me to some creeps for three grand. Luckily, my nana saved me every single time. But I wasn’t some pushover. The day she took her SATs, I stood outside the school and yelled “Mom!” for everyone to hear. The day she moved into her college dorm, I made sure all her roommates knew she had a six-year-old kid. On her wedding day, she locked me in my room, so I jumped out the window and crashed the ceremony. She stared at me that day, her eyes filled with pure venom. She collapsed on the floor in her white dress and screamed, “Why do you have to destroy everything for me?” I finally made it to my 18th birthday. And true to form, she celebrated by throwing my birth certificate at my face. “Ivy,” she snarled, “I don’t owe you a damn thing.” 1 My birthday is on Thanksgiving. While every other family was having a turkey dinner, my mother, Melanie, was stuffing my clothes into a trash bag and tossing it on the front porch. “You’re 18 now. An adult. You can finally get the hell out,” she said. “I have no legal obligation to you anymore. You don’t need a guardian. Ivy, I never want to see your face again.” There was no love in her eyes. Just hate. Pure, uncut hatred. The feeling was mutual. I’ve always known she resented me. I was the living proof of the mistake she made when she was fourteen. I was the stain on her life. But how is that my fault? She’s the one who brought me into this world. I didn’t ask to be here. Why should I have to pay for her mistake with 18 years of her rage? So, from day one, I fought back. She never let me call her “Mom” in public. So I did it every chance I got, as loud as I could. After having me, she went back to high school, telling everyone she’d been out sick for a year. So on the day of her SATs, I ran up to the entrance of the testing center and yelled: “Mom! Good luck on your SATs! I know you’ll do great! Your baby loves you!” The look of shame on her face was priceless. She looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. I was ecstatic. It was payback for trying to smother me in my crib and leaving me as coyote food. But I underestimated her. Even with everyone whispering and pointing, her focus was so intense she still aced the test and got into a good state school. Fine. The day she moved into her dorm, I tagged along with my nana and made sure to introduce myself to her new roommates. “Please don’t judge my mom,” I’d said, putting on my best sad-puppy face. “She just got pregnant really young. But she’s super smart, and she’s the best mom in the whole world. I love her so much, so please don’t be mean to her!” By the end of move-in day, the whole campus knew that Melanie, the 20-year-old freshman, already had a six-year-old daughter. She was so furious she dragged me into a bathroom stall, shaking with rage. “Ivy, why won’t you just disappear? Why are you so determined to ruin my life? What did I ever do to deserve this?” What did *I* do? I didn’t do anything but be born. She made my life hell, so I made hers hell right back. 2 She barely came home during her four years of college. The first time she did, it was to announce she was getting married. I met the guy. He was handsome, had a good career, came from a nice family. Nana was thrilled. Melanie was even more thrilled. I was disgusted. How does someone as selfish and heartless as Melanie deserve to be happy? She couldn’t even be a mother to her own kid. What right did she have to marry a good man? She knew I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. On the morning of the wedding, she locked me in my bedroom. “Ivy,” she warned through the door, “today is the happiest, most important day of my life. Don’t you dare ruin it for me.” What a joke. Why would I listen to her? I climbed out my second-story window and ran all the way to the church. Just as the groom was about to put the ring on her finger, I sprinted down the aisle, grabbed onto her leg, and started wailing. “Mommy, are you going to leave me? After you get married, are you going to have new babies and forget about me? What will I do?” I screamed, “You can’t leave me! If you have other kids, I’ll just die!” Her dream wedding turned into a complete disaster. The groom slapped her across the face and stormed out. She collapsed onto the floor in her white wedding dress, shrieking my name. “Ivy! I-V-Y!” She cried like a madwoman for hours. Later that day, she took scissors to her wedding dress and then to her own hair, hacking it all off. She never dated again. She hated me more than ever. And I had never been happier. She was my mother. That’s all she would ever be. I didn’t want any brothers or sisters to suffer the way I did. Because being her child didn’t mean getting love. It only meant getting hate. Now, clutching the flimsy birth certificate, I turned and threw myself into my nana’s arms, sobbing. “Nana, Mom’s kicking me out! I’m only 18, I just got into college! What am I supposed to do? Does she want me to end up like her, getting knocked up by some guy before I even have a life?” *SMACK!* A sharp sting exploded across my cheek. Melanie’s face was contorted with rage, her hand raised to hit me again, but Nana grabbed her by the hair. “You hit her again, I swear to God,” Nana snarled. “She’s 18 years old. Don’t you think she has any pride? Melanie, I have never seen a worse mother than you.” Melanie glared back at her. “And I’ve never seen one like you, either!” Nana’s face faltered for a second. She shoved Melanie aside and took my hand. “Come on, Ivy. We’re going inside. This is my house, my name on the deed. Nobody has the right to kick you out.” I followed Nana into the house, shooting a triumphant smirk at my mother over my shoulder. 3 It’s always been like this. She hates me, but Nana loves me. Every time Melanie lost her temper with me, Nana would make her pay. The time she tried to smother me, Nana slammed her head into the toilet and held it there until she nearly drowned. The time she left me for the coyotes, Nana locked her in the shed with a stray dog for three hours. And the day she tried to sell me, Nana broke her leg. So, no. I’m not afraid of her. Whatever I do, Nana has my back. I’m just like her in that way. She was bold enough to have me at fourteen. I’m bold enough to do anything. As evening fell, I saw her alone in the kitchen, cooking. A whole Thanksgiving feast was on the table. Nana cut me a slice of pumpkin pie. “Ivy, now that you’re in college, make sure you still come home to visit. If you need money, you ask your mother. It’s her responsibility to support you through school.” I smiled and held my hand out to Melanie. “Mom, the two thousand a month for my allowance isn’t enough. All my friends get three. I need another grand.” She smacked my hand away with a serving spoon. “You push your luck and see if you get a penny. When I was in college, I lived on a thousand a month, and I managed just fine.” I took a bite of pie. “Yeah, but you were different, Mom. You had guys paying for your stuff. I don’t.” Her face darkened. “That’s a lie. I worked part-time and I was frugal. I never took money from a man.” Oh, please. I went right for the kill. “You had me when you were fourteen. Don’t you dare say you didn’t rely on a guy. You were smarter than me. You knew how to take shortcuts from the very beginning.” She looked like she was about to flip the table. I could see her chest heaving with rage. Mad? Good. She deserved it. She’s the one who had me so young. She’s the reason I got pointed at and whispered about my whole life, the reason kids bullied me at school. This was all on her. Seeing her angry was better than winning the lottery. I was so wound up I couldn’t sleep that night. I got up for a glass of water and heard arguing from her room. It was Nana, yelling at her. “It’s been 18 years, Melanie. Why can’t you let it go? What good does it do you to hurt Ivy like this? She will always be your daughter. You can’t change that. You need to try to be a good mother.” I peeked through the crack in the door and saw tears streaming down Melanie’s face. She slowly looked up at Nana. “And you? Were you a good mother?” she asked, her voice dripping with acid. “Were you? Mom, what I’ve done to her is nothing, *nothing* compared to what you did to me. How dare you lecture me?” She stared Nana straight in the eye. “You know, I could go tell Ivy the truth right now. I wonder if she’ll hate you as much as she hates me.” “Don’t you dare!” Nana shrieked, grabbing Melanie’s shoulders. “You will not tell her! Not ever! If you say one word, I will kill myself right here in front of you!” 4 In the end, Melanie didn’t tell me anything. She even did something she’d never done before: she drove me to my college dorm. I cheerfully introduced her to my new roommates. “This is my mom! She looks young, right? Hahaha, she’s only thirty-two!” “Whoa,” one of them said, their jaw dropping. “So, like… ma’am, you had her when you were fourteen?” “Damn, that’s wild,” said another. “I barely had my period at fourteen.” Then they turned to me. “Ivy, what about your dad? How old was he? Was he a teenager, too?” I shrugged. “No idea. Never met him. Could be some punk with a bad dye job, could be some old married guy.” With every word I said, Melanie’s face got paler. Finally, she snapped and slapped me. I clutched my cheek and collapsed onto the floor, wailing. “She hit me! Everyone, come see! My own mother is abusing me!” After that scene, Melanie became infamous on my campus. She never had the nerve to show her face there again. Which was her whole plan, anyway. She wasn’t visiting me; Nana was sending her to supervise me. She was convinced I’d end up just like her, getting into trouble with boys at a young age. “Keep your eyes open, Ivy,” she’d say over and over. “Don’t be fooled by a handsome face. You need to find someone who is your equal, or you will regret it for the rest of your life.” Hilarious. “No thanks,” I’d shot back. “I think I’ll go hook up with some burnout tomorrow. Make you a grandma at thirty-three.” She stormed out, throwing one last threat over her shoulder. “I’m done with you! I am never helping you again! Go to your precious nana for everything! Don’t you ever call me again!” And she didn’t. She never called, never visited. The only proof she still existed was the $2,500 that appeared in my bank account on the first of every month. Life without fighting her was boring. So I got a boyfriend. Actually, he pursued me. He said he saw me on the first day of school and felt an instant connection. He even said we looked like we were made for each other. He was just like the man Melanie was supposed to marry: handsome, athletic, from a wealthy family. He checked every box. I was so excited to bring him home. Unfortunately, Melanie was ready for another fight. 5 She stood in the doorway, blocking my boyfriend, Leo, from coming in. “Get out,” she said, hands on her hips. “You are not welcome in this house.” She was unbelievable. I pushed past her. “This is Nana’s house. Her name is on the deed, and she’s leaving it to me when she’s gone. What right do you have to tell my boyfriend he can’t come in?” She gritted her teeth. “I have every right. Because I’m your mother. You love telling everyone that, don’t you, Ivy? Well, today I’m using my authority as your mother to tell you: I do not approve of this man.” That was it. I snapped. “What right do you have to not approve? You’re just jealous that I found a great guy. You’re the one who got knocked up by some deadbeat because you were reckless. I’m 20 years old. You don’t control me!” I’d hit a nerve. She raised her hand to slap me again. But before her hand could connect, another hand shot out and slapped her first. It was Nana. “You worthless thing,” Nana hissed. “How many times have I told you? Don’t you ever hit her! Do you understand me? You do it again and you can get out of my house. You hear me?” My hero had arrived. I ran to Nana and buried my face in her shoulder. “Nana, she doesn’t have a man, so she’s trying to stop me from having a boyfriend! It’s not fair!” Nana stroked my back soothingly. “It’s okay, sweetie. Nana will handle it. Our Ivy is all grown up. It’s time she had a nice boyfriend.” A grin spread across my face. I shot a look at Melanie, who was standing there, fuming. But then, she did something strange. She started to laugh. She was sick. Who laughs after getting slapped? Nana glared at her. “What are you laughing at? You’ve lost your mind.” Melanie pointed at Leo, then looked at Nana. “I’m laughing,” she said, her voice chillingly calm, “because your karma has finally arrived.” “Mom. Take a good, long look at him. And then tell me if you still approve of them being together. Open your eyes and look. *Really* look.” Nana followed her finger and stared at Leo. In an instant, her pupils shrank. I saw her lips tremble, her face drain of all color. “What,” she whispered, her voice shaking, “are you doing here?”

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After I finally conquered the game’s brooding male lead, the System granted me a special perk. 【You can now view the male lead’s location at any time, including his exact distance from anyone else.】 【This way, you’ll never have to be afraid of losing him again! 】 A few months later, the physical distance between the man who was supposed to love me and the woman he supposedly despised was shrinking rapidly. I stared blankly at the numbers on my internal display: [-7 inches], [0], [-7 inches], [0]… “Can I just cash out the affection points and go home?” I asked, my voice flat. 【That’s a negative, Host! You are permanently bonded to the male lead. And besides, he’s crazy about you! He just can’t control his… physiological needs!】 Fine. I pulled out my burner phone and sent a text to my beloved male lead: [Give me $10 million, or I’ll tell your wife you’re cheating.] Seconds later, his distance from the other woman went from [-7 inches] to [10 feet]. The System’s voice crackled with panic. 【What are you doing?】 “Oh,” I said, a slow smile spreading across my face. “I’m going to play with him. Until this bond breaks.” Ethan was quick to reply to my burner. [Who is this? What are you to Olivia?] [What cheating? Do you have proof?] Tch. He had me there. I didn’t have anything more concrete to hold over his head. After a few minutes of silence, I figured he was trying to figure out a way to trace me. But then, his distance from Isabelle began to shrink again, and the numbers returned to their sickening rhythm: [-7 inches], [0], [-7 inches], [0]… Seriously? Is he a Pomeranian in heat? As I stewed in frustration, the System regained its smug tone. 【See? You should just give up. Ethan genuinely loves you. His body just enjoys the thrill Isabelle gives him. He can’t help it.】 【How about this? I’ll give you a succubus buff. You can work on making his body so addicted to you that he—】 I ignored it. A spark of an idea hit me, and I walked straight to the garage. The moment I pulled the car out of the main gate, my phone erupted with a frantic call from Ethan. “Liv? Where are you going?” “Answer me. Don’t you forget, you have no one in this world but me. Don’t even think about taking a single step out of my sight.” As the story’s obsessive, controlling male lead, Ethan had implanted multiple trackers under my skin. The second I stepped off the property, alarms blared on his phone. See how inhumane this setup is? The male lead gets to have his body and soul exist in separate zip codes, while the female lead is supposed to sit in a gilded cage and count her fingers. That’s why the moment his affection score hit 100, I made a demand to the System. “I want to be Ethan’s equal.” My intention was to get half of his assets. But this romance-obsessed System, with its corporate-level reading comprehension, assumed I was just jealous. It took the initiative and gave me this “perk” to track Ethan’s distance from other people. And now, I finally understood how to use this supposedly useless ability. I suppressed a laugh, seeing his distance from Isabelle still locked at [-7 inches]. “But, baby,” I cooed into the phone, “you’re with Isabelle right now, aren’t you?” 1 Silence for a few seconds. Then, a disbelieving, sharp laugh. “Liv, how can you even think that? You know how much I despise that woman.” “Hmph!” A faint, feminine pout echoed through the receiver. It was almost imperceptible. Then came the dull thud of a body hitting the floor. The distance tracker updated: [3 feet]. He must have kicked her off the bed. I forced a sob into my voice. “She really is with you?” Ethan’s tone finally tipped into panic. His words came out in a rush. “No, Liv, don’t overthink this. I’m coming home right now to explain. Just don’t leave the house!” The moment he hung up, a transfer notification for $10 million hit my burner phone’s account. [I don’t know who you are, but take the money and stay away from her.] I rolled my eyes. Whenever I’d tentatively asked him for money in the past, his eyes would turn bloodshot, as if I’d triggered some primal defense mechanism. “Your food, your clothes, your entire life is provided by me. What do you need so much money for? Are you planning to leave me?” he’d hiss. “Don’t even think about it, Olivia.” So flexible, that morality of his. Unwilling to spare a dime for me, but happy to drop millions to cover up an affair. Ethan’s 100% affection score was no joke. He drove like a maniac. I hadn’t even made it ten miles before his car cut me off. He wrenched me out of my driver’s seat and crushed me in a fierce hug. “Liv, you’re not going anywhere…” After he’d half-dragged, half-carried me back into the villa, I focused my senses again. The distance between him and Isabelle was [15 feet]. He actually brought her back with him. Did he stuff her in the trunk? As I was pondering this, a cup of tea was placed in front of me. “Here, Liv. Drink this. It’ll calm your nerves.” A suspicious white powder floated on the surface, a blatant insult to my intelligence. … Was he planning to drug me unconscious and then screw Isabelle right next to me? What a sick game. Ethan’s expression was dark as he gripped my chin, his voice dangerously low. “Be a good girl, Liv. I don’t want to force you. We can talk about everything after you wake up.” I silently estimated Isabelle’s hiding spot, then shoved Ethan away with all my might, snatching the teacup and flinging its contents behind the sofa. “Ah!” A disheveled Isabelle leaped out, clutching her head. This perk wasn’t useless at all. It was a god-tier affair-buster and blackmail-assister. My face twisted into a terrifying mask, my eyes locked on the two of them. I mimicked Ethan’s own chilling tone. “Baby,” I whispered, “isn’t having me enough for you?” 2 Ethan was the classic possessive archetype. Before I won him over, he was an untouchable ice king. Afterward, he became a possessive shadow, a ghost haunting my every move. He forced me to quit my job, forbade me from seeing anyone—first men, then eventually, anyone at all. He isolated me until I couldn’t leave his sphere of control. His obsession was so absolute he needed to know the exact schedule of my bathroom breaks. And Isabelle was the classic villainess. In the early stages, she relentlessly tried to frame me, even kidnap me, but Ethan always thwarted her and retaliated brutally on my behalf. I thought that once I’d secured Ethan’s affection, Isabelle would be written out of the story for good. But I was wrong. On the surface, he drove her family to bankruptcy, but behind the scenes, he propped up her new career, funded her design studio, and sent her extravagant gifts on holidays. He acted disgusted by her in public, yet he was helplessly drawn to her in private, their shared animosity fueling a toxic passion. He gave the villainess endless freedom and illicit pleasure, while I, the heroine, was locked away in a cage. This world granted him limitless power and capital. No matter how depraved his actions, he faced no consequences. What was a little infidelity in the grand scheme of things? The only variable was me, the female lead. He was terrified of me dying. A paper cut on my finger was enough to send him into a frenzy. And that was my only leverage. If I treated him the way he treated me—if I became unhinged and suicidal over his every move—how would he react? Best-case scenario, I gain control over him. Worst-case scenario, I actually succeed in ending my own life and get sent back to my own world. Playing the part of the psycho? It was a win-win. 3 Ethan’s arm tightened around me, the pressure almost bone-crushing. “Liv, let me explain. She followed me here, I—” Isabelle, composing herself, ran a contemptuous gaze over me. “Relax, Olivia. I have no intention of stealing him from you.” She smirked. “The CEO and I just have a… mutually beneficial arrangement. I have my own career and my own life. Unlike you, a helpless vine who can’t survive without a man to cling to.” I turned to Ethan, adopting his signature paranoid, whispery tone. “A mutually beneficial arrangement? Is she telling the truth?” Ethan flinched as if I’d stepped on his tail. He whirled on Isabelle, his eyes feral. “Shut your mouth!” He turned back to me, his voice desperate. “Liv, don’t listen to her lies. My heart belongs only to you! My body… that’s secondary…” A distorted smile, a mirror of the one he wore when he was losing control, stretched across my face. “So, your secondary body… that can be given to anyone you please?” I shoved him away with surprising speed, snatched a small, steel letter opener from the coffee table, and without a moment’s hesitation, pressed it to my own throat. “NO!” Ethan’s roar was ragged, torn from his soul. He lunged at me like a madman, his hand clamping around my wrist. The blade’s tip was a hair’s breadth from my skin. His face was ashen, his entire body trembling. “Let me die! Don’t touch me with hands that have touched someone else!” I screamed, throwing his own past accusations back at him. Isabelle stood by, arms crossed, sneering. “Seriously? What is this, the dark ages? The whole ‘I’ll kill myself’ routine? Ethan, is this really the kind of neurotic drama queen you’re into?” “GET OUT!” Ethan, finding an outlet for his terror and rage, spun around and slapped Isabelle across the face so hard she stumbled and fell. “Get the hell out of here, and don’t you ever show your face in front of me and Liv again!” Isabelle cradled her cheek, staring at him in disbelief before scrambling to her feet and fleeing. 4 The villa was suddenly silent, save for the sound of our two ragged breaths. Ethan pried the letter opener from my hand and pulled me into a tight, trembling embrace, still reeling from the shock. “Liv, she was lying. Please, believe me…” I let out a shuddering breath and whispered in the most devoted, heartfelt tone I could muster, “Really? Then from now on, will you share your entire schedule with me? Everything. And don’t you dare lie.” I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a chilling murmur. “If you betray me, I’ll kill you. Then I’ll kill myself.” Ethan’s body went rigid. He looked down at me, and the first emotion that surfaced in his eyes was not fear, but a twisted, ecstatic joy. “Liv… you love me that much?” A beat, then… “Okay. I promise. I’ll tell you everything, wherever I go. I’ll give you all the security you need.” But behind the elation, I saw it. A flicker of fear. It was the look of a predator, accustomed to being the sole hunter in its territory, suddenly catching the scent of an equal. The System’s voice pinged in my head, sounding incredulous. 【Male Lead’s character profile is collapsing by 5%. Current bond strength with Host: 95%!】 He could track my every move. Now, so could I. That’s what I call fair. 5 After “calming me down,” Ethan secretly replied to my burner account. [You have the money. If you interfere in my life with Olivia again, I will find you. Don’t think I can’t.] He couldn’t. This burner account was one I’d used to tip him off back when Isabelle was trying to frame me. Its signal was untraceable, even for him. The System grumbled, [I knew I shouldn’t have given you that feature…] To distract me, Ethan showered me with luxury goods. But his promise to share his schedule never materialized. A master manipulator doesn’t take the demands of his pretty little bird seriously. I played my part, reverting to the obedient, sweet girl he thought he controlled. He stroked my hair, satisfied. “Get ready,” he said. “I’m taking you somewhere special tonight. For your birthday.” That evening, he took me to a lavish ballroom at the city’s finest hotel. The birthday gala was filled with guests, and, just as I expected, Isabelle was there. Under the pressure of Ethan’s glare, she reluctantly approached me, forcing a stiff smile. “Happy birthday, Olivia. I was out of line the other day, just teasing you. The CEO and I have a purely professional relationship. I hope you didn’t misunderstand.” I linked my arm through Ethan’s, my own smile a picture of innocence. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I trust you, and I trust my baby.” I squeezed his arm. “From now on, I won’t doubt you again… unless I see something with my own two eyes.” The fake smile on Isabelle’s face froze. She clearly hadn’t expected me to be so magnanimous. Ethan, however, was delighted by my response. He wrapped an arm around my waist and, in a loud voice, addressed the room. “And on this happy occasion, I have some wonderful news to share. Liv and I are getting engaged!” The hall erupted in applause and congratulations. The hatred in Isabelle’s eyes was practically overflowing, but under Ethan’s warning gaze, she didn’t dare make a scene. Halfway through the party, Ethan was cornered by a group of business partners. I watched as Isabelle shot me a defiant smirk, leaned in close to a slightly drunk Ethan, and whispered something in his ear. Then, one after the other, they slipped out of the ballroom. [Ethan and Isabelle Distance: 15 feet… 3 feet… 0…] I took out my burner phone again. [Snacking on the side again, Mr. CEO? Time to tell your fiancée. The price is $20 million this time.] He was likely in a state of frustrated arousal. His reply was blunt: [Fuck off]. I set down my champagne flute and, following the distance tracker, calmly made my way upstairs to the guest suites. I stopped in front of one of the rooms. “Baby,” I called out, my voice sweet and clear. “What are you doing in there?”

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A rich kid offered to buy me dinner. Led on by his sly encouragement, I ordered a feast of biblical proportions for a table of ten: king crab, massive lobsters, the finest French caviar—the works. It wasn’t until he flashed a malicious grin that the trap was sprung. “Babe, if you can’t finish all that, you’re picking up the check.” He thought I didn’t see it—the hidden camera on his chest, the live feed where a torrent of comments was already flooding the screen, all of them mocking me. “Look at her face, she’s screwed. That spread is $95,000. How’s some broke girl gonna pay for that?” “Did you see how greedy she was ordering? LMAO.” “Does she really think you can just leech off a rich guy that easily?” “Another point for the Gold Digger Takedown Team! Yo, share the stream, guys, this is gonna be epic!” But there, under the invisible glare of a thousand eyes, I didn’t panic as they’d all hoped. I just lifted my knife and fork, flashed a playful grin that showed the tips of my canines, and smiled. A takedown? As a creature of myth, known since antiquity for my insatiable appetite, there’s a human expression I’ve always been fond of. The most dangerous predators are the ones who look like prey. 1 A short clip went viral across all the platforms recently. It starred a man and a woman. You only ever heard the guy’s voice, but the woman was on camera the entire time. The setting was a high-end luxury boutique. The woman, giddy with excitement, tried on an array of designer bags and dresses, constantly turning to the man for his opinion. “Babe, that dress was made for you.” “That bag is sick. It’s the limited-edition season drop. Wild that this store has all the colors. You should just get them all.” “You need a pair of red-bottom stilettos with that skirt. Those ones are perfect.” Lost in the flurry of praise, the woman held her head high, preening in one exquisite outfit after another. She even threw her old clothes into a trash can right there in the middle of the store. It was only when she approached the register, arms laden with her spoils, that the fantasy shattered. “I said I’d go shopping with you, not for you.” “No way, no way… After all that posturing, you’re just some broke chick? If you don’t have the money, what are you even doing in a place like this?” The man’s voice was loud, mocking. A crowd was starting to form. The woman panicked. “But you told me to buy all this…” “So? If I tell you to buy it, you just buy it? Do you have any idea what’s in your bank account? If I told you to go jump off a bridge, would you do that, too?” Snickers rippled through the onlookers. Someone pulled out their phone and started recording. The woman, biting her lip, forced a syrupy smile. “You said you liked me. If you just pay for this, I’ll be your girlfriend.” The man let out an exaggerated, booming laugh. “My girlfriend? Who the hell do you think you are? Take a good look in the mirror. A gold digger who can’t even afford a few dresses wants to be my girlfriend? Get real.” “If you can’t afford it, go sell something. Aren’t you girls good at that? Or take out a loan. Why are you looking for a sugar daddy? You think we owe you something?” He went on like that, a relentless, ten-minute tirade. Finally, face flushed a deep, humiliating crimson, the woman returned every single item. She walked back to the trash can, retrieved her old clothes, and put them back on, piece by piece, before fleeing the store under a chorus of derision. 2 I closed the video. A series of voice messages were still popping up in my chat. “Made up your mind, babe? Send me your address, I’ll come pick you up. We can hit the shops, maybe buy a few bags, some jewelry. What do you say?” The voice was a low, gravelly attempt at seduction—identical to the man in the video. I thought for a moment, then cleared my throat and sent back a voice note of my own, my tone dripping with sweetness. “I’m not really into bags and jewelry. I’d be happy if you just bought me dinner, big boy.” Silence from his end. A moment later, a notification popped up from a private group chat. “Dudes, what the hell? Did I actually find one of the ‘good ones’? The new target just wants me to take her to dinner.” The group exploded. “Dumbass. You still believe good girls exist? She’s obviously playing the long game.” “Rule of thumb, bro: there are no women who don’t want something. Only ones who pretend to be saints and ones who know they don’t have the leverage.” The advice started pouring in. “If she wants dinner, give her dinner. Top-shelf wagyu, king crab, imported caviar. The more expensive, the better.” “Broke girls have never seen real luxury. She’ll be drooling. Let her order herself, you just make suggestions. Don’t let her stop until she’s ordered enough for seven or eight people. Enough to make someone her size literally burst.” “Once the food’s on the table, tell her you hate women who waste food. If she can’t finish it, you’re not paying. And unlike clothes, you can’t return a dish once it’s been cooked. She’ll either have to cough up the cash or eat till she pukes.” “Damn, that’s cold. I love it.” “Yes! This is gonna be prime content. The stream is gonna blow up again, hahaha.” The chat was buzzing. No one noticed my burner account, lurking silently among them. Finally, a new message from him came through. “You got it. There’s a five-star Michelin restaurant downtown. I’ll take you for a taste.” I wiped a trickle of drool from the corner of my mouth. “Okay.” 3 Staring at the mountain of exquisite dishes piled high on the table, Connor finally grinned. “Babe,” he said, barely able to contain his glee as he delivered the line he’d been rehearsing, “I can’t stand people who waste food. You ordered so much… if you can’t finish it, I don’t think I can help you with the bill.” I feigned shock. “What? All of this? You expect me to eat all of this by myself?” His smile was pure poison, the hidden camera on his chest zooming in for a tight shot of my panicked expression. “What’s wrong? Feeling the pressure now? You seemed pretty happy when you were ordering.” In the livestream, the comments were a waterfall of ridicule. “Here we go! My favorite part!” “Connor is a legend! He tricked her into ordering for ten people. $95k! Hahaha, she is so done.” “She had the balls to order it, though. I’m a big guy and I can’t finish one king crab by myself. She ordered ten.” “And she was pretending she didn’t want anything before. I thought she was just greedy, I didn’t know she was this stupid too!” “Tonight’s entertainment is top-tier. I can’t wait to see her eat until she throws up and then start crying for help!” Connor savored the comments for a moment before turning his attention back to me. “What are you staring at me for? Eat.” But I didn’t burst into tears and beg for forgiveness as they’d all fantasized. Instead, a contented smile spread across my face as I picked up my knife and fork. “Thank you, Connor. In that case, I won’t be polite.” Under a sea of disbelieving eyes, I devoured every last bite of the ten-person meal. I didn’t even leave a single grain of rice from the abalone risotto. Honestly, if I wasn’t afraid of making too much of a scene, I probably would have eaten the king crab shells, too. It felt like something I used to do, a long, long time ago. I must have been starving, I thought. 4 Connor paid the ninety-five-thousand-dollar bill, his face pale. “So… can I ask you out again sometime? My treat,” I said with a shy smile, as if I wasn’t the person who had just inhaled a meal for ten. He stared at my still-flat stomach beneath my dress, then just let out a dazed, “Huh?” The livestream comments had shifted. “Calculated every move but didn’t account for her being a competitive eater.” “No wonder she was so happy when he offered dinner. With an appetite like that, she must be starving at home.” “I’m trying to believe she went and threw it all up, but she never even went to the bathroom.” “Weird. This is just plain weird. Can’t even be mad at Connor for losing this one.” “Wait, you guys are just giving up? The Takedown Team has never taken an L like this before!” Connor was distracted, lost in thought, until a hand landed heavily on his shoulder. “Hey Connor, out with your new girlfriend?” I turned. A handsome young man with a gentle smile was looking at me. Connor quickly backpedaled. “Nah, just a friend from a game. First time meeting up.” Then he introduced us. “Talia, this is my friend, Simon Hayes.” Simon waved a waiter over and ordered three coffees. “Since we ran into each other, why don’t you stay a little longer?” He glanced tentatively at my stomach. “Ms. Talia, do you have room for a coffee?” He leaned close, and a subtle, intoxicating fragrance drifted from him. I found myself unconsciously twitching my nose. “Simon, you smell amazing,” I said. He chuckled. “You like my cologne? I’ll send you a bottle.” Connor, standing by, sounded a little sulky. “What, I don’t smell good?” I looked down, feigning embarrassment. “You smell good too, Connor. But Simon smells… better.” They both laughed, and the scent seemed to envelop me like a fine mist. I had to swallow hard to keep from drooling as the momentary feeling of fullness in my stomach was replaced by a gnawing hunger. “This might sound a bit forward,” Simon began, his voice smooth as silk, “but I was sitting behind you earlier. I saw you… eating.” He paused. “I just launched a new media company, and we have a food channel that’s looking for a host. We need a competitive eater just like you, Talia.” I looked at him, wide-eyed. “Me?” “Of course. You’re cute, Talia, and your appetite is incredible. It creates this amazing contrast. With a little promotion, you’d be a star.” Simon and I exchanged numbers. It was late by the time I got home. The moment I opened the door, my phone buzzed. A friend request from a stranger. The attached message read: I know what you’re trying to do. 5 I thought about it, then hit accept. It was a brand-new account. Default profile picture, all information blank. I sent a message: “Hello.” The reply was almost instantaneous. “Leave the group. Cut all contact with those people. You have no idea who you’re messing with.” I played dumb. “What group? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Anonymous: “You know what I’m talking about. ‘The Hunt Club.’ You’ve been lurking in there for days, right? You deliberately connected with Connor in the game, arranged to meet him, let him livestream it… You knew exactly what they were planning. Why would you do that? Are you trying to get revenge for the other girls they’ve humiliated?” I didn’t answer. Anonymous: “Whatever you’re planning, I’m telling you to stop. These guys are all rich and powerful. This group is just a sick game for them when they’re bored. If they find out you’re just messing with them, you’re finished. Do you know what happened to the last person who crossed them?” 6 Of course I knew what happened to the last person who crossed them. Her name was Tessa, a senior at City University. Three months ago, on the night before her graduation ceremony, she jumped from the roof of the library. We were both orphans, raised in the same foster home. I called her my sister. I was born with a massive appetite, which meant I was always hungry as a kid at the home. Tessa would secretly give me her food, swallowing her own saliva as she watched me eat. “What can I do? I’m the one who found you. That makes me responsible,” she’d say. She was a brilliant student, and the director of the home, taking pity on her diligence, would slip her extra eggs and milk. All of it ended up in my stomach. As I devoured the food, fighting the burning hunger and guilt in my gut, Tessa would puff out her chest and promise, “It’s okay. One day, I’ll go to college, get a good job, and make tons of money. Then you can eat whatever you want, and you’ll never have to be hungry again!” But she broke her promise. And I was angry. The next time I was starving, who would be there to take care of me? Her roommate gave me a battered journal, a small mercy. She said the school had disposed of all of Tessa’s other belongings, but she’d secretly kept this, a final memento of their friendship. The name that appeared most often in its pages was a group chat called “The Hunt Club.” 7 After lurking in the group for a few days on my burner account, I finally understood what it was for. A pack of bored, wealthy degenerates who used various pretenses to lure out women they deemed vain and greedy “gold diggers.” They would trick them into making huge purchases, then refuse to pay, deriving pleasure from their public humiliation and breakdown. But Tessa… I refused to believe she would fall into their trap for material things. Once, when we were kids, I was so hungry I stole two buns from a bakery. She found out and whipped the palm of my hand raw with a thin bamboo stick. She told me that even the poorest person must hold on to their integrity. She went on and on, lecturing me with all sorts of principles about how a noble person remains virtuous in poverty, blah, blah, blah. The rest is a blur; my hand hurt too much to remember. Tsk. Having a straight-A sister wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Make one little mistake and you get hit with both physical and psychological damage. 8 March 10th. Sunday. Sunny. I never knew people could be so cruel. What did I do wrong to be tormented like this? March 15th. Friday. Light rain. They came to the coffee shop where I work part-time. They made a scene, claiming my cup wasn’t clean, that my hands were dirty when I served them, that they got a stomachache after drinking the coffee and had to go to the hospital. They demanded I pay them. I only make eight hundred dollars a month at this job. They wanted twenty thousand. Where was I supposed to get that kind of money? My boss was kind. Before he fired me, he quietly lent me the twenty thousand. He said not to rush paying it back, but I still feel so guilty. I’ll just have to find more part-time work. If I can just hold on for a few more weeks, until I get my diploma, everything will be okay. March 19th. Tuesday. Overcast. They still haven’t let me go. I lost my tutoring job. They filed a complaint, accusing me of molesting the child, of trying to seduce the husband. The mother, who had always been so nice to me, showed up at the university screaming that I was a homewrecker. She grabbed my hair and hit me. No one helped me. Everyone just stared and pointed. When I got back to my dorm, my roommates had thrown my sheets and blanket into the hallway. They said it was a disgrace to share a room with me. It hurts so much. Why? I didn’t do anything. April 6th. Saturday. Heavy rain. It’s been months since I sent any money back to the home. I wonder how Talia is doing with her studies. Is she eating enough? It turns out there was a reason for everything. If I had known then… No. Even if I could do it all over again, I would still help her. We’re both girls. How could I just stand by and watch them humiliate her, force her to strip naked in the middle of a store? Who knew that just paying for a dress would attract a pack of monsters? They’re the ones who are wrong. Not me. But I don’t know how much longer I can hold on… I haven’t called Talia in a while. I’m not in a good state. She would worry. Endure it, Tessa. To live is to endure. You can’t give up like this. Three months later, she jumped from the university rooftop. It was graduation season, and the university didn’t want a scandal. They quietly handled Tessa’s body and her belongings, and then everything went silent. After all, she was just an orphan with no parents. The loss of a single life barely made a splash, less than the ripple from a pebble tossed into a lake. 9 I became a mukbang streamer for Simon Hayes’s new media company. After one session where I ate eight bundles of Fujian-style noodles, twenty mooncakes, ten bowls of sweet rice ball soup, six bowls of Nanchang spicy noodles, fifty soup dumplings, and for dessert, an eight-inch chocolate cake and five giant fruit teas, I went viral. Of course, the reactions were all over the place. There was shock, skepticism, people trying to replicate the meal, others analyzing the footage frame-by-frame for tricks, and a legion of commenters swearing I must have a bulimia problem. It was a circus. I ignored all of it. As long as I got to eat my fill, I didn’t care. Simon said he wanted to reward me. He took me and the team on a safari hunt in Africa. The savanna was beautiful. Simon raised his rifle and, with a single shot, brought down a magnificent male lion. Blood pooled on the dry earth. “These animals are raised in a private reserve specifically for hunting. Half a million a head,” he explained. “For people in our circle, this is the real game of power.” “Want to try, Talia?” He stood behind me, his body half-embracing mine, as he showed me how to hold the rifle, how to aim. One of his assistants threw a bloody deer leg from the truck, quickly attracting a few leopards. “This is the essence of the hunt,” he murmured, his breath hot against my neck. “A little bait is all it takes to bring out the greed in their bones. Even when they know untold danger lies ahead, they can’t help but follow their hunger—” “And then—bang.” He whispered the last word, and I flinched. The bullet whizzed over the leopards’ heads. Startled, they snatched the deer leg and vanished into the tall grass. Simon wasn’t angry. He just stroked my hair indulgently. “It’s okay. I know you girls have soft hearts.” I buried my face in his chest, forcing the sharp claws that were about to erupt from my fingertips back under my skin. Lately, my body had been changing in strange ways, as if something unknown was on the verge of waking up. The only constant was the raging hunger in my stomach. 10 After we returned to the States, the anonymous account messaged me again. “I know who you are.” “You’re Tessa’s sister. You got close to Connor and his friends to get revenge for her, didn’t you?” “You can’t win against them.” Tired of the warnings, I just blocked the account. A new request from a different burner account came through moments later. “I’m not trying to hurt you, I swear! I just want to help!” “If you really don’t believe me, let’s meet in person.” I considered it. “Only if you’re buying me dinner.” She chose a KFC. I didn’t hold back, ordering five family-sized buckets. The girl across from me, bundled up in a hat and a face mask, stared with wide eyes. I happily munched on a piece of fried chicken, taking a sip of soda and glancing at her. “Oh, you’re Tessa’s roommate.” The one who gave me the journal. She looked stunned. “You can recognize me even dressed like this?” I twitched my nose slightly. “I remember your scent.” She hesitated for a long time before finally speaking. “Don’t you have any questions for me? Like… the real reason Tessa died?” “Oh, I read the diary. It seems like she helped someone, got targeted by that group, and killed herself when she couldn’t take it anymore.” She stared at me. “And that’s it?” “What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely confused. Her voice rose with emotion. “You know how she died, and you can talk about it so calmly? Do you have any idea the kind of pain she went through before she died?” I looked up at her. “So? What did you do while she was going through all that? Weren’t you the one she helped? Why is it that you, the one who started it all, got away clean while she was pushed to the edge?” “How did you know…” “I guessed.” The girl slumped in her seat. “You’re right… I was vain. I fell for Connor’s trap. He took me to that luxury store, tricked me into trying on an expensive dress, and then refused to pay. He was going to force me to strip naked in front of everyone, livestreaming it for laughs… Tessa just happened to be passing by. She paid for the dress for me.” “That’s what set them off.” “They shifted their target to Tessa. First, they tried the same trick on her, but when she wouldn’t take the bait, they started to destroy her life. They used their money and influence to spread lies, ruin her reputation… Eventually, even the university believed them. The day before graduation, they told her she was being expelled for ‘moral turpitude.’ She wasn’t even going to get her diploma. That’s why she… she couldn’t see a way out.” I listened while finishing my buckets of chicken, then licked my fingers clean. “I’m done. Thanks for the meal.” She gaped at me, speechless. “You…” “I get it. You’re saying they’re powerful. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” Just then, my phone rang. I answered, my voice instantly turning soft and sweet. “Simon?” His voice on the other end was bright and cheerful. “Where are you, Talia? I’m coming to pick you up. We have a big livestream tonight, you can’t be late.” I gave him the address and hung up. The smile was still on my face when I noticed the girl across from me staring with venom in her eyes. “I see now…” she sneered. “You never wanted revenge at all. Your sister’s death was just a ladder for you to climb.” “After all, without this, a girl from the bottom like you would never even get the chance to speak to powerful men like them, right?” “You’ve already been seduced by them, haven’t you? You’ve seen their power, their status, and you think you can climb into their world and live happily ever after? Keep dreaming.” “Do you think you’re special, that they see you differently? You’re just another piece of bait. If you keep this up, your end will be a hundred times worse than mine and Tessa’s combined.” I wasn’t angry. I wiped my fingers meticulously and stood up. “That won’t happen. Simon isn’t like Connor and the others. And I’m not like you.” “What makes you so different?” I tilted my head, revealing the tips of my canines. “You were all after his money. I’m different. I just want him.” “Talia!” she screamed after me, her voice thick with grief and fury. “Your sister died so horribly, and you’re willing to be a lapdog for her killers? She loved you more than anything in this world, you ungrateful, shameless snake!” “Don’t say that,” I said, looking back with a smile. “You know, we were both just orphans. Tessa… she wasn’t my real sister, anyway.”

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It was the third time this month I’d covered cleaning duty for Claire, the girl both my childhood best friends were in love with. After the final bell, just as I was heading for the door, they cornered me, all easy smiles and familiar charm. “Hey, Lia,” Leo started, slinging his arm around my shoulders. “Could you do us a solid and cover for Claire in the chem lab today? We’re taking her out—kind of a date thing. You’re the best.” I looked up from under my bangs, my voice barely a whisper. “I can’t today. I… I have plans.” The warmth in Leo’s eyes vanished. A smirk, sharp and humorless, pulled at his lips. “If you don’t want to do it, just say so. Don’t make up lame excuses. Who would you even have plans with?” When I didn’t answer, the smile on Nathan’s face dissolved completely. He moved, quick and silent, and pressed me back against the cold cinderblock wall. His voice was low, intense. “You really have a date?” he demanded. “With who?” 1 The final bell had just shrieked through the halls, and I was pulling my umbrella from the side pocket of my backpack when Leo stopped me. “Hold up, Lia. Can you handle the lab cleanup?” I glanced back at the whiteboard. Under ‘Chem Lab Duty,’ Mr. Henderson had clearly written Claire Danes. “It’s not my day—” “Claire’s got cramps, she’s feeling awful,” Leo said, his smile effortless. He had these fox-like eyes that always seemed to be laughing at a private joke. He gave my shoulder a friendly, proprietary pat. “So, be a pal, yeah? I’m gonna give her a ride home.” As if on cue, he slung his backpack over one shoulder and crouched down in front of Claire’s desk. She swatted at him, a flicker of a smile playing on her lips. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’m fine. It’s not a big deal.” Leo looked up at her, his expression a perfect performance of concern. “Of course it’s a big deal. Girls need to rest when they’re on their period. Lia gets it. She’s a girl, too.” He turned his gaze on me. “Right, Lia?” I bit the inside of my lip. “…Okay, fine.” I’d just dropped my bag when a long, pale hand plucked the umbrella from its side pocket. Nathan was taking off his rimless glasses, frowning at Leo. “Are you planning on letting her walk home in this downpour? Getting chilled is the last thing she needs.” He shot a quick, dismissive glance at me. “I’m taking the umbrella. The rain will probably let up in a bit. You can just wait it out.” And just like that, the two of them were gone—Leo carrying Claire piggyback, and Nathan holding my umbrella over her head. Claire looked back over Leo’s shoulder, her perfect face a mask of polite apology. “Sorry about this, Lia! We’ll see you tomorrow!” Their figures blurred and then vanished into the gray sheet of rain. I turned away from the window and started cleaning. This was the third time this month. Claire was only scheduled for lab duty three times a month. The first time, she had a piano lesson she couldn’t miss. Before I could even respond to her asking, Leo had already volunteered me. “Your piano is more important, you’ve got your certification exam coming up. Lia doesn’t have anything better to do anyway.” The second time, a new movie she was dying to see had just come out. Both Leo and Nathan wanted to be the one to take her, so cleanup duty naturally fell to me. I swept the floors in silence, the rhythmic scrape of the broom the only sound. I mopped until the linoleum gleamed under the fluorescent lights, then moved to the whiteboard. It was massive, and I couldn’t reach the formulas scrawled across the very top. I jumped a few times, my fingers just brushing the slick surface. I was about to drag a stool over when a hand reached past me from behind. It was a beautiful hand, clean, with well-defined knuckles. It took the eraser from me and, in a few easy swipes, cleared the entire top of the board. I flinched, spinning around to find Noah Carter, our class valedictorian, standing right behind me. He was so close I could smell the clean, crisp scent of lemon and sea salt on his shirt, a startling pocket of dryness in the damp, rainy air. Before I could speak, he did. “This isn’t your day for cleanup, is it?” There was a long-running, pointless debate among the girls at our school over who was the ultimate heartthrob: Leo, Nathan, or Noah. Maybe because I was so used to Leo and Nathan, seeing Noah up close felt different, more impactful. His eyes were a clear, warm hazel, and his dark lashes were so long they looked like tiny, delicate wings. “Claire wasn’t feeling well,” I explained, my voice sounding thin. “I’m covering for her. What are you still doing here?” Noah’s expression didn’t change. He just took the eraser and methodically cleaned the rest of the board. “Had to drop off some papers in the faculty office. On my way back, I saw you…” He paused, and a small smile touched his lips. “Jumping.” Heat flooded my cheeks. “Oh. Uh, thanks.” “No problem.” He placed the eraser back on the ledge. “All done? Ready to go?” I shook my head. “You go ahead. I don’t have an umbrella. I’m just going to wait for the rain to stop.” He pulled a sleek black umbrella from his bag. “I have one,” he said simply. “Let’s go.” 2 As we walked, he broke the comfortable silence. “Do you cover for Claire a lot? I feel like I’ve seen you doing this before.” “Yeah. She’s… busy sometimes.” “She must be a very busy person,” he commented, tilting the umbrella so it shielded me more than him. “You seem pretty close with Nathan and Leo.” “We all are. Me, them, and Claire. We’re all friends.” “If you’re friends, how come you’re the only one doing all the work?” I didn’t have an answer for that. I just kicked at a small pebble on the sidewalk. “You’re busy too, right?” he continued. “I heard you have SAT prep classes at night. Why don’t you just say no?” I hesitated. “They wouldn’t like it. We’re all friends.” “And what would happen if they didn’t like it?” “We… wouldn’t be friends anymore?” The words came out like a question, an automatic fear. “They’re the only friends I have.” “Then let me be your friend.” We reached the entrance to my apartment building and stopped in unison. The rain had knocked the purple blossoms from the jacaranda trees, and the wind swirled the petals at our feet. Noah stood there, holding the black umbrella, and smiled at me. “So, are we friends now?” No one could say no to that face. I nodded. “Of course. And thank you, for walking me home.” “Is a ‘thank you’ all I get?” I blinked, looking up at him. I finally noticed that the right side of his school uniform was completely soaked, while I was almost perfectly dry. He didn’t seem to mind at all, the gentle smile never leaving his face. “Then… how about you let me treat you to the library on Saturday? You wouldn’t say no to a friend, would you?” 3 After my shower, I saw the group chat notification. Claire had tagged me. “Lia, you get home okay? So sorry to make you do that again today. It was all Leo and Nathan’s fault, they were being so overprotective. I told them I was fine, but they insisted.” I towel-dried my hair, typing back a simple, “I’m home.” Suddenly, a message from Leo popped up. “You didn’t have an umbrella. How’d you get back?” “Someone walked me.” “Ooooh, who?” Claire sent a voice memo, her tone teasing. “Is our little Lia finally dating someone?” Nathan rarely posted in the chat, usually only replying when Claire said something. “Not a chance. Who would ask Lia out?” Leo chimed in immediately. “Exactly. She’s a total bookworm. Who’d be into that?” Claire’s laughter echoed in another voice memo. “You guys are so mean! Lia is wonderful. She’s smart and pretty.” “Pretty?” Leo sent a scoffing emoji. “Compared to you? If she’s pretty, what does that make you, a goddess?” Nathan added: “Claire, you’re just too nice. If no one tells her the truth, she’ll get the wrong idea. What if some guy takes advantage of her?” The messages kept coming, one after another. The little bubble of warmth Noah had given me deflated, leaving a familiar coldness in its place. I put my phone down and stared at the ceiling. This wasn’t new. I knew, deep down, that in our little group, I was always on the lowest rung. And I understood why. Nathan, Leo, and Claire were the suns of our high school universe—effortlessly cool, from wealthy families, born to shine. I was just… me. The quiet, plain girl who orbited them. If we hadn’t grown up on the same street, our paths would never have crossed. Both guys were in love with Claire. When the four of us were together, I was just part of the background, a ghost at their table. It had been that way since we were kids. I was so used to it that saying no felt like speaking a foreign language. I rolled over, Noah’s parting words echoing in my head. “The way they treat you… are you sure they see you as a friend?” 4 On Claire’s next cleanup day, Leo predictably shoved a broom into my hands. “We’re taking Claire to the movies tonight. You’ve got this, right?” Nathan had already slung Claire’s backpack over his shoulder. She waved at me with a bright, unapologetic smile. “Thanks a bunch, Lia!” I paused, then pushed the broom back into Leo’s chest. “Sorry,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected. “I have plans today.” The smiles on all three of their faces froze. “Plans?” Claire’s voice was laced with a kind of magnanimous disbelief. “Haha, Lia, it’s okay if you don’t want to do it. I know I’ve asked you a lot this month.” Leo’s dark brows furrowed. “Plans? With who? C’mon, Lia, if you’re going to make an excuse, at least make it a good one. Who do you even know besides us?” Nathan’s eyes, cold and analytical behind his glasses, fixed on me. “Lia, don’t be dramatic. Claire really wants to see this movie. What’s the big deal with covering for her one more time? You’ve done it before.” “It’s true,” I said, looking down. “We made plans to go to the library. I’m not making it up.” Claire raised an eyebrow. “Can’t you just do the lab first? It won’t take that long.” “No.” I glanced at my watch. “I’m going to be late. I have to go.” The smile on Claire’s face faded. She gave Leo’s arm a slight tug. “Can you guys talk to her for me? Maybe she’s mad at me for asking so much. Or… are you dating someone now? Was it that guy who walked you home the other day?” In my peripheral vision, I saw the expressions on Leo and Nathan’s faces darken. Nathan blocked my path. “Who walked you home last time? Who are these plans with?” Before I could answer, Leo slammed his hand against the wall next to my head, trapping me. “In such a hurry to leave?” His voice was a low growl. “Lia, spell it out. Are you seeing someone?” His eyes were dark, intense. “Who is it?!” “Me.” Noah walked into the classroom, pulling me out from under Leo’s arm. He was just as tall as Leo, and he met his glare with a calm, even smile. “Lia has plans with me today.” He turned to me. “Ready to go?” He took my backpack, and as we walked out, his gaze swept over Nathan, as cool and undisturbed as a calm lake.

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I am the fiancée of Nick Howard, a name synonymous with the city’s glittering elite. His escapades were tabloid fodder, and the tell-tale marks of his affairs—bruises and bites from shameless lips—always found their way to the pale skin of his collarbone. I turned a blind eye. I dutifully washed the scent of other women from his shirts, folded his clothes with reverent silence, and never, ever asked a single question. He’d boast to his friends, a cruel smirk on his face, about his perfect, unobtrusive wife-to-be. But he never knew the truth. My heart had always belonged to his brother. 1 Nick stumbled home late, reeking of expensive whiskey and a perfume that wasn’t mine. I winced but moved to help him, guiding his heavy frame toward the sofa. He shoved my hands away with surprising force, his lips moving, mumbling the name of the woman he truly loved. “Evie… don’t leave me.” A familiar numbness washed over me. I knelt and obediently slipped the shoes from his feet, then went to the kitchen to prepare a remedy for his hangover. I was used to this. As his fiancée, I was a ghost in his life, a presence he rarely acknowledged. I brought back a bowl of warm water and a cloth to clean his face. As I wiped away the grime of the night, my eyes snagged on the mess of marks marring his collarbone. A chaotic constellation of lipstick smears and angry red love bites. They were a declaration of his infidelity, loud and obscene. The sight was a physical blow, a sharp, stabbing pain. My fingers clenched the hem of my dress, my knuckles white, the fabric digging into my skin until it hurt. I stood frozen, unable to tear my gaze away from the vulgar display. It was as if the marks were burning a hole right through me. Suddenly, Nick jolted awake, caught in a nightmare. “Evie, no!” he cried out, his voice thick with sleep and desperation. He shot upright on the sofa. His eyes landed on me, then followed my gaze to his collarbone. There was no flicker of guilt, no hint of an explanation in his expression. “Problem?” His voice was ice, his eyes narrowing as he glared at me. The word died in my throat. For a moment, I was speechless. But wasn’t it a wife’s right to care for her husband? I steadied myself. “No. I just saw you were drunk and wanted to clean you up.” Nick slowly, deliberately, fastened the top button of his shirt, hiding the evidence. His voice was smooth and unhurried. “That’s what my assistant, Ms. Davies, is for. You don’t need to concern yourself with these things.” He rose to his feet, towering over me. “And let’s not forget what this is—an arrangement. A merger. We don’t have a marriage certificate yet, which means you’re not my wife.” His words were like shards of ice piercing my heart. I understood the unspoken message: all my efforts, all the care I thought I was showing, were not just unappreciated—they were laughable. In his world, I was worthless. I stared at my pale, trembling fingers. “Fine,” I managed to whisper. “I understand.” He rubbed his temples, then paused as if remembering something. He glanced back at me. “And stop making that god-awful hangover cure. It’s disgusting.” Then he was gone, leaving me alone in the vast, silent living room. I looked down at the calluses on my hands, a bitter lump forming in my throat. I used to be a pampered daughter of privilege, my hands soft and unblemished. I had reshaped my entire life to please him, and this was the result. This broken, pathetic version of myself. I never asked him to be grateful. All I ever wanted was for him to truly see me. My phone buzzed violently on the counter. Nick’s name flashed on the screen. My heart leaped as I scrambled to answer it. “Hello?” The background was a cacophony of music and drunken shouts, but his voice cut through it all, as clear as the day I first met him, making my pulse race. Trying to sound calm, I asked, “What’s wrong?” Silence stretched on from his end. I was about to ask again when one of his friends, Jake, snatched the phone. His voice was rushed. “Aria? Nick’s smashed and he’s calling for you. Says he only wants you to come get him. Can you—” I froze. “Are you sure he asked for me? By name?” “Absolutely,” Jake said, his tone certain. “He’s shouting for his fiancée. That’s you, right?” A wildfire of joy erupted in my chest. I fought to keep my voice even. “Okay. Text me the address.” Maybe, I thought, this is it. The moment the glacier finally begins to thaw. The moment he starts to feel something for me. The bar was on the other side of the city. The night was bitterly cold, but I just threw on a thin coat and ran out. I didn’t waste a second changing into warmer clothes; I couldn’t bear the thought of making him wait. Down in the garage, I was met with the gleaming array of luxury cars—a silent testament to the Howard fortune. None of them were for me. I didn’t have the keys, the codes, the right of use. My life—my food, my clothes, my transportation—was all managed by Ms. Davies. Every small purchase required her approval. I was a marionette, drowning in the gilded darkness of this penthouse. His promises. When would he ever keep them? When would he ever come back and truly look at me? A bitter smile touched my lips. I walked out to the main road and hailed a cab. The city lights blurred past as I huddled in the back seat, the heater doing little to warm the chill in my bones. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Young lady, it’s late and freezing out. What’s the emergency?” I looked down at my hands. “I’m picking up my fiancé…” The word felt wrong, foreign. He wouldn’t like it. “A friend,” I corrected myself quickly. “He’s had too much to drink.” I saw the driver shake his head with a sigh. “Honey, if a man really loved you, would he be making you come out on a night like this to fetch him?” I ignored him, turning to stare out the window, my reflection a pale ghost against the dark glass. It wasn’t certain yet. Nothing was certain. Even if there was only a one percent chance, I had to believe. It was nearly two in the morning when I arrived at the hotel. I called Jake’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. As I walked down the plush corridor, I heard a man’s mocking laughter spill from a suite. “No way she actually came. Hahahahaha.” I recognized the voice. It was Jake. “God, she’s so pathetic, isn’t she?” another voice chimed in. “What do you think, Howard?” I stopped, pressing myself into the shadows of an alcove, my heart pounding against my ribs. Through the crack in the door, I saw him. Nick. He was lounging on a velvet couch, a cigarette dangling from his lips, perfectly composed in his tailored suit. He lifted his head, a slow, cruel smile spreading across his face. “She’s worthless.” My fists clenched, the air suddenly too thick to breathe. It was all a game. A sick, twisted performance, and I was the fool he was toying with. He had never cared. Not for a single moment. The fragile hope that had carried me all the way here shattered into a million pieces. I was the clown in his circus. I gritted my teeth and pushed the door open. Nick’s eyes widened in momentary surprise when he saw me, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual mask of bored indifference. “Well, look at you,” he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Such an obedient fiancée.” He was surrounded by a flock of beautiful women in slinky dresses, their eyes fixed on him with adoration. “Aren’t you going to explain?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm. “What’s to explain?” He exhaled a plume of smoke that made me cough. “Lost a game of truth or dare. Simple as that.” I had raced across the city in the freezing cold for this. For a joke. “Right,” I whispered, a hollow laugh escaping my lips. My heart, which had been flickering with hope, finally went out. And I knew, this time, it would never reignite. “Aria,” Nick said, stubbing out his cigarette and adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. “Learn to stay out of things that don’t concern you.” I had already turned to leave, but his words stopped me. I looked back at him, a bright, brittle smile on my face. “Don’t worry, Nick. From now on, you’ll get exactly what you want.” My duty to him was over. The curtain had fallen. 2 Jake, a stunning brunette draped over his arm, sneered at me. “You really are cheap, Aria.” He pushed the woman away and arched a brow. “Since Nick clearly doesn’t appreciate you, why don’t you come home with me?” My gaze shifted to Nick. He did nothing. He just watched, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips, as if my humiliation was his evening’s entertainment. Of course. Why would he care? I was nothing more than dirt beneath his shoes. I could drop dead at his feet and he wouldn’t even flinch. A slow smile spread across my face, my eyes locking with Jake’s. “Alright,” I said, my voice sweet as poison. Nick’s face darkened instantly. He rose from the shadows, his expression unreadable but radiating a sudden, violent anger. He crossed the room in three long strides, his hand clamping around my throat. The pressure was immense. “Say that again,” he hissed, his eyes blazing. I found it all so hilarious. Tilting my head, I repeated the words with perfect clarity, “I said… alright.” The veins on his hand bulged as his grip tightened, a raw, hateful force meant to punish me. I didn’t understand. Why this rage? He was an enigma, a puzzle I had spent years trying to solve, only to fail at every turn. But his sudden change in behavior didn’t matter anymore. Nothing about him mattered. He used his free hand to grab my chin, forcing my head up, and then his mouth was on mine. His kiss was an invasion, a conquest, yet underneath the aggression was a ghost of tenderness that disarmed me. The bitter taste of smoke and whiskey filled my mouth, stinging my throat and bringing tears to my eyes. I don’t know when the desperate, bruising kiss ended. I don’t want to know. All I know is that for a fleeting, heart-stopping moment, as his lips moved against mine, he felt so much like Leo. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. “Is it you?” I whispered against his mouth. “Are you back?” He chuckled, pulling back just enough to flick my forehead with his finger. “What are you dreaming about?” The past and present blurred into one. The ghost of the man I loved and the cold reality of the man in front of me became indistinguishable. With tears in my eyes, I reached up on my toes and gently ran my fingers through his hair. Just like old times. He was finally back. Nick watched me with a predatory curiosity, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. A dark, dangerous smile played on his face. “Like what you feel?” he murmured. He captured my hand, pulling me closer, intending to wrap me in his arms. I dug my nails into my own palm, fighting to stay grounded in reality. But— He was too much like Leo. The lines were blurring. The psychedelic lights of the bar danced across his face as he held my hand, that reckless, devil-may-care smile still fixed on his lips. I could hear the frantic, deafening beat of my own heart. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. “No,” I choked out. And then, a traitorous tear escaped, sliding down my cheek.

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The day of my son’s christening, I found a sonogram in my husband’s phone. The woman’s texts were arias of despair, a constant drain that siphoned off half of Ethan’s income every month. I didn’t choose quiet acceptance. I laid the phone on the mahogany desk in his study and demanded an explanation. Ethan sat in that leather chair all night. When he finally emerged in the pale morning light, his face was a gray mask. “I admit it,” he said, his voice raspy. “I owe her. But there’s nothing between us. No feelings.” 1 Ten years together, and now he was asking me to sacrifice our family for a child that wasn’t even real to me. I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t. I put on my dress, a silk sheath the color of cream, and let the christening party begin. And then, in the middle of the reception, his best man, David, burst through the doors of the hall. He was clutching a blood-stained medical transport cooler. “Ethan!” he yelled, his voice echoing in the sudden silence. “It’s Chloe! She saw the pictures you posted of the party… she miscarried at the hospital. The baby’s gone!” The champagne flute in my hand, raised for a toast, slipped from my fingers and shattered on the polished floor. Ethan moved like a lightning strike, a blur of motion toward the door. My voice, sharp with tears, cut through the air behind him. “Ethan, if you walk out that door today, you are no longer this child’s father!” He paused for a single, agonizing beat at the threshold. Then, without a backward glance, he was gone. I stood frozen, our one-month-old son nestled in my arms. Noah was asleep, blissfully unaware that his father had just vanished from his life. The soft jazz music ground to a halt. The murmur of our guests died. The emcee stood on the small stage, microphone in hand, utterly lost. Ethan’s parents rushed to my side, his father’s face livid with rage. “Sophia,” he growled, “that animal! I’ll break his damn legs!” I just shook my head, numb, and handed Noah to the nanny we’d hired. “Let him go, Dad,” I said to my own father-in-law, my voice strangely calm. My own parents hurried over, my mother already weeping. “What is this? At his own son’s christening! He’s humiliated our family!” I stepped down from the dais. “I’ll take you home,” I told them. The grand hall had dissolved into chaos. David, Ethan’s friend, approached me, his face a mess of guilt. “Sophia… I’m so sorry. Chloe… it was an emergency. The baby… it was already formed…” I stared at him, saying nothing. David knew Ethan, but he also knew Leo, the man who had died in prison. And Leo’s sister, Chloe, had become their collective “responsibility.” But responsibility doesn’t choose the middle of a baby’s christening party to make an entrance, holding a dead fetus like a trophy. I grabbed my purse and walked out, leaving the whole farce behind. My phone buzzed in my bag. Again and again. I didn’t look. I knew it was Ethan. He’d be explaining, apologizing, telling me that Chloe was on the verge of death and he couldn’t possibly have stayed. We’d been together for ten years. I knew him. He had a hero complex, a desperate need to be a savior. Leo’s case was the only one he’d ever lost. After Leo died, that guilt became a set of chains Ethan draped around his own neck. He told me he had to take care of Chloe for the rest of his life, to honor his failure. I used to believe him. It was only today that I understood. Some ways of “caring” are just another word for betrayal. Back home, I peeled off the silk dress and changed into sweats. I’m a forensic pathologist. The hospital where Chloe had her… procedure… it was one where I had colleagues. I grabbed my car keys and drove. Outside the OB/GYN emergency room, Ethan was slumped against a wall. His suit was wrinkled, his hair a mess, his eyes shot with blood. A moment later, Chloe was wheeled out of the recovery room, an IV drip taped to her wrist. Her face was bloodless, her eyes closed. Ethan immediately rushed to her side, grabbing her hand. I walked toward them. When Ethan saw me, he straightened up, his eyes swimming with apology. “Soph… you’re here. I’m so sorry about today…” “How is she?” I cut him off, my gaze fixed on the woman in the bed. “The doctor said she hemorrhaged. The baby’s gone, but she’s stable. She’s just… emotionally, she’s a wreck.” I nodded. “Good.” As I turned to leave, Ethan grabbed my wrist. “Sophia, don’t be like this. I lost Leo’s case. I owe them this. I can’t abandon her, not now when she’s lost her only hope.” I pulled my arm free. “I’m not being like anything, Ethan. I’m just realizing that my son’s christening was apparently less important than a woman who just had an abortion.” “That’s not it! You and Noah are the most important things in the world to me! But she was dying! And that was my child, too!” “The doctors said she’s not going to die,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “And another thing. That wasn’t your child.” His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Just then, Chloe’s eyes fluttered open. When she saw me, tears instantly welled. “Sophia,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault. I didn’t mean to, I just… I saw the pictures of the christening, and it made me think of my brother, of Leo, and…” She broke down into ragged sobs. “I lost control. I’m so sorry I ruined everything.” Ethan immediately sat by her side, his voice a soft murmur. “It’s okay. Don’t think about it. It’s over. Just rest.” He looked back at me, his eyes now holding a hint of reproach. “Look at her. She’s shattered. Can’t you have a little compassion?” I didn’t answer. I just turned and walked away. It wasn’t until the cold night air hit my face outside the hospital doors that I realized my hands were shaking uncontrollably. 2 The next day, Ethan came home with a folder in his hand. I opened the door but didn’t let him in, blocking the entrance. He held the folder out to me. “Sophia, I’m apologizing on Chloe’s behalf. She had an emotional breakdown yesterday. She didn’t mean for any of it to happen.” “She can’t apologize for herself?” Ethan flinched. “She’s still very weak.” “Let’s not talk about her,” I said. “Let’s talk about us. What about the christening? What do I tell our friends, our families?” He was silent for a long moment. “We’ll throw another party once this all blows over.” “Another party?” I looked at him, incredulous. “You think this is something you can just… redo?” “What else can we do? It happened, Soph. I know you’re hurt. But Chloe… she lost her brother, and now she’s lost a child. Can’t we just try to be understanding?” There was that word again. Understanding. I took the folder from his hand. It was a share transfer agreement. He was signing over twenty percent of his stake in the law firm to me. “It’s compensation,” he said. “Please, don’t be angry anymore.” Seeing me take the papers, Ethan visibly relaxed, mistaking my action for acceptance. “You’ve always had a soft heart,” he said, a weak smile touching his lips. “Don’t worry. Once she’s back on her feet, I’ll make it all up to you and Noah. I promise.” He left. I tore the agreement into tiny pieces and dropped them in the trash. Then I went to work. I had a colleague pull yesterday’s records from OB/GYN. Chloe Vance. Gestational age, 24 weeks. Procedure: Induction of labor. Not a miscarriage. A scheduled, voluntary induction. An abortion. Then I called a friend in the ER. “Hey, remember that pregnant woman who came in yesterday? Hemorrhaging? Chloe Vance.” My friend thought for a second. “Oh, right, that one. Some guy carried her in, frantic, screaming about a miscarriage.” “And the situation?” “Please,” she scoffed. “It was standard post-induction bleeding. Completely within the normal range. We all knew what was up. The whole drama was for the guy’s benefit.” My heart sank like a stone.

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1 I converted my family’s old five-story building into a shared apartment complex. It was prime real estate, right in the heart of downtown, complete with a large courtyard. I knocked out all the non-load-bearing walls and redesigned the space from the ground up, creating a mix of single, double, and quad rooms to cater to different needs. The rent was half the market rate for the area. My only rule? Tenants had to be young professionals, no more than three years out of college. Instead of building on the courtyard, I turned it into a gym and a cafeteria. The gym equipment was brand new. I hired two chefs for the cafeteria, and the prices were the same as a university dining hall. For the first month, all meals were free. I thought I was doing a good thing. I was giving these young people, just starting their careers, a place to breathe, a place to call home. They called me their “guardian angel landlord.” They brought me plaques and wrote glowing reviews online. Seeing their bright, hopeful faces made it all worthwhile. Until Liam showed up. He stood at the entrance of “The Haven,” dragging a silver suitcase behind him. He pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, his eyes scanning the name of the building. Then, he smiled. I handled Liam’s check-in myself. His resume was impressive: a law degree from a top university, a string of scholarships. I gave him the grand tour. “The gym is free,” I explained, “and the cafeteria serves three meals a day. Utilities and internet are all included.” I pointed to the menu on the wall. “Two mains and a side for twelve bucks.” He nodded, his eyes lingering for a moment on the kitchen door. As we walked down the hallway, he suddenly stopped and pointed to a fire extinguisher in the corner. “Ms. Chen,” he said, his voice polite but firm, “this fire extinguisher’s inspection tag is out of date.” I was taken aback. “Oh, the maintenance guy must have forgotten to replace it. I’ll get him on it right away.” “Safety is no small matter,” he said. His tone was level, but there was an undercurrent of something that brooked no argument. A flicker of annoyance went through me, but I forced a smile. “You’re right. I’ll have it replaced immediately.” He moved into 301, the best single room in the building, south-facing with a balcony. In the days that followed, a subtle shift began to occur in the building. Liam was always in the common areas, helping the cafeteria staff chop vegetables, playing chess with the security guard, patiently showing a shy new tenant how to use the gym equipment. He quickly became a popular and well-liked figure. Everyone started calling him “Liam.” “Liam knows so much about everything.” “He’s such a great guy, so down-to-earth.” “That’s what you get from a top-tier education.” Hearing their praise, my initial unease faded. Maybe I was just being paranoid. A bright, helpful young man like him was an asset to the community. A week later, I went to the cafeteria after dinner to discuss the next week’s menu with the chefs. A group of tenants was gathered around Liam. He was holding a document, explaining something with a serious expression. As I got closer, I heard his clear, measured voice. “…according to the city’s housing regulations, any rental unit must be a self-contained, original room. Subdividing rooms is not permitted.” A tenant whispered, “But Ms. Chen’s rent is so cheap. The partitioned rooms are fine.” Liam smiled. “It’s cheap because it’s illegal and unsafe. Have you considered what would happen in a fire? These partitions are a major safety hazard. We pay rent, we have the right to a safe and legal living environment. It’s not a gift, it’s a right.” He emphasized the word “right.” Another tenant chimed in. “Liam’s right! That fire extinguisher was expired. I told Ms. Chen about it, and she didn’t even replace it right away!” I distinctly remembered having the guard replace it that same day. I stopped at the entrance of the cafeteria. The evening breeze was cold. I turned and walked away. Back in my office, I sat in silence for a long time. I pulled out all the rental agreements. Attached to each one was a “Safety Disclosure” form, signed by me, which clearly stated: “Some rooms in this building have been modified. The tenant acknowledges this and agrees to rent the unit as is.” Every single tenant had signed it. 2 The next day, the building’s group chat exploded. Liam had posted a three-thousand-word “Proposal for Improving the Living and Safety Standards of The Haven.” It was a masterpiece of legal jargon, citing everything from fire codes to health regulations to contract law, complete with screenshots of the relevant statutes. He concluded with a list of “proposals”: I was to remove all partitions and restore the building to its original layout. I was to register the gym and cafeteria as businesses and obtain the proper licenses and permits. We were to sign new, “legally compliant” rental agreements that explicitly stated the gym and cafeteria were free amenities. The chat was flooded with messages of support. “Yes, Liam! He’s saying what we’ve all been thinking!” “Housing justice! We’re not trying to take advantage, we just want what’s right!” “To be honest, I’ve always been a little worried about the cafeteria’s hygiene.” “Yeah, what if we get food poisoning? Who’s responsible?” I recognized the username of the person complaining about the hygiene. It was Leo, from the second floor. Just yesterday, he’d bought four meals to take to his girlfriend. I put down my phone and rubbed my temples. That afternoon, I called Liam to my office. He was the same as always: gold-rimmed glasses, crisp white shirt, calm and polite. “Ms. Chen, you wanted to see me?” I placed a printed copy of his “proposal” on the desk. “Liam, why didn’t you come to me with this first?” He adjusted his glasses. “Ms. Chen, this isn’t just my opinion. It’s the collective will of the majority of the tenants. A public discussion is more efficient and transparent than a private conversation.” “Transparent?” I picked up the document. “You want me to tear down the partitions. What about the fifty-plus people who live in those rooms? Where are they supposed to go?” “That’s a problem for you, as the landlord, to solve. You can refund their rent and offer compensation, or you can find them alternative housing.” His answer was flawless, and infuriating. “The gym and cafeteria are a bonus, a gift I provide for free. You want me to get business licenses? Do you have any idea what that entails? The taxes, the regulations, the inspections… Do you have any idea how much that will cost?” “Ms. Chen, it’s not a gift,” he interrupted, his voice hardening. “When these facilities are tied to your rental business, they are part of a commercial service. Whether you charge for them or not, they are subject to legal oversight. This is to protect us, the consumers.” Consumers. He used that word. I laughed, a bitter, angry sound. “So, you enjoy the cheap rent, the free gym, the subsidized food, and now, as ‘consumers,’ you want me, the ‘business owner,’ to bear all the legal risks and operational costs?” “The law is the law,” he said, his eyes cold. “Sentiment doesn’t trump legality. You should have anticipated these issues when you renovated the building. All we’re doing is bringing things back into compliance.” I took a deep breath. I pointed to the signed contracts on my desk. “Everyone signed the disclosure. They all knew about the modifications. It’s in writing.” A ghost of a smile touched Liam’s lips. “Ms. Chen, you, of all people, should know about ‘unconscionable contract terms.’ When a contract violates a mandatory provision of the law, or exempts one party from their primary responsibility while increasing the other party’s, that clause is void. Those ‘disclosures’ you had everyone sign? They’re not worth the paper they’re printed on in a court of law.” There was a knock on the door. A young woman who lived on the fourth floor, Sarah, poked her head in, holding a lunchbox. She looked embarrassed when she saw Liam. “Ms. Chen… I was just wondering if there was any of that braised pork left from dinner?” Before I could answer, Liam turned to her with a warm smile. “Sarah, I’m just discussing our proposal with Ms. Chen. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure we get a safer and more hygienic dining environment for everyone.” Sarah’s eyes widened. She nodded enthusiastically. “Go, Liam! We’re all behind you!” She backed out of the room, forgetting all about the braised pork. I looked at Liam, a chill running down my spine. 3 The negotiations failed. I rejected all their “proposals.” I told them the gym and cafeteria were a privilege, one I could revoke at any time. The partitions were a known condition of their tenancy. If they were unhappy, they could give a month’s notice and move out, as per their contracts. The next day, a notice was posted on my office door. It was an “ultimatum.” I had 72 hours to respond positively to their demands and begin implementation. Otherwise, they would take “all necessary legal measures.” It was signed: The Haven Tenants’ Rights Committee. Chairman: Liam. The atmosphere in the building changed overnight. The young people who used to greet me warmly now avoided my gaze, hurrying past me in the hallways. The group chat I had created to foster a sense of community had become their war room. I didn’t leave the group. I watched as they assigned tasks, gathered evidence. “Who can get photos of the kitchen? Try to get the grimy corners.” “Check the gym equipment for expiration dates.” “Everyone write a statement. Emphasize that we didn’t know the partitions were illegal, that we were misled by the landlord.” “I have a friend who’s an intern at a local news station. They’re very interested in a ‘graduates’ rights’ story.” Liam was the general, directing his troops. “Remember, everyone, our goal is not to cause a scene, but to ‘defend our rights according to the law.’ All evidence must be obtained legally. And when you talk to Ms. Chen, remember to record the conversation.” I saw Leo, the one who’d complained about the hygiene, was the most active in the chat. “Don’t worry, Liam! I’ve already taken pictures of the cracks in my wall! We can say the building is structurally unsound!” I remembered those cracks. He’d made them himself when he tried to hang a bookshelf. He’d even come to me and asked if I could help him patch them up. I sat in my office, chain-smoking. The ashtray was overflowing. The 72 hours passed. I did nothing. On the fourth day, I was served with a summons. The plaintiffs: Liam and ninety-eight other tenants. The defendant: me. The charges: breach of contract and illegal business operations. I looked at the long list of familiar names. The last one was Sarah, the girl who’d wanted the braised pork. I called my lawyer. “Old friend,” I said, “I have a problem.” He was silent for a long time after I explained the situation. “This is bad,” he finally said. “Very bad. The other side’s leader is a pro. He’s got you on two major points: the structural modifications and the unlicensed businesses. Legally, you have almost no chance of winning.” “What about the contracts they signed?” “Like the kid said, they’ll likely be deemed unconscionable. And with so many young people, the so-called ‘vulnerable group,’ they’ll have the judge’s sympathy. You’re at a disadvantage, legally and in the court of public opinion.” “So there’s nothing I can do?” “Your only option is to settle out of court. Offer them a rent reduction or some compensation, and get them to drop the lawsuit. It’s the least costly option.” I hung up the phone. Settle? I looked out the window. A few tenants were laughing and chatting in the gym, using the equipment I had bought for them. I picked up my phone and typed a single sentence in the group chat. “See you in court.” There was a three-second silence. Then, a reply from Liam: a thumbs-up emoji. 4 The day of the trial, the sky was a gloomy gray. The courtroom was packed. The tenants of The Haven, and a gaggle of reporters. Liam represented himself. He was dressed in a sharp suit, his hair perfectly coiffed. He stood before the judge and delivered a powerful, eloquent opening statement. He presented a mountain of evidence: photos of the partitions, close-ups of the “unhygienic” kitchen, news articles about the fire hazards of subdivided apartments. And a hundred-page document of a joint testimony from all the tenants, each one a tear-jerking account of how I had taken advantage of their youth and inexperience, luring them into my “illegal” deathtrap. They painted themselves as innocent lambs, exploited by a greedy, heartless landlord. Liam’s speech was masterful. “Your Honor, we are not here to be unreasonable. We are recent graduates, full of hope for our future in this city. We sought a safe haven, but what we found was a web of lies and danger! The defendant, Ms. Chen, paraded herself as a ‘guardian angel landlord,’ basking in the praise of the media while engaging in illegal and dangerous practices, putting the lives of over a hundred young people at risk! We are not seeking monetary compensation! We are seeking justice!” His voice rang with passion. In the gallery, his supporters looked on with expressions of outrage and admiration. The reporters were scribbling furiously. When it was my lawyer’s turn, he presented the signed contracts and safety disclosures. Liam immediately objected. “Your Honor, I have already demonstrated that these so-called ‘disclosures’ are a textbook example of unconscionable contract terms! The defendant used her position of power to impose an illegal living situation on us and then attempted to absolve herself of all legal responsibility!” My lawyer tried to argue, but Liam shut him down with a barrage of legal terminology and flawless logic. The judge’s expression grew colder and colder. I knew I had lost. I had lost from the very beginning. This lawsuit was a perfectly orchestrated performance, with Liam as the writer, director, and star. A perfect hunt, with “the law” as the weapon and “justice” as the banner. During the recess, I was smoking in the hallway. Liam approached me. “It’s not too late to surrender, Ms. Chen,” he said. “If you agree to our terms, we can drop the lawsuit right now. It’s for the best, for everyone.” “And if I don’t?” He smiled. “Then we’ll win. And you’ll lose everything. The building will be shut down. You’ll face massive fines. And your ‘guardian angel landlord’ reputation will be destroyed. You’ll be a pariah. Is it worth it?” I stubbed out my cigarette. “See you in court,” I said again. His face darkened. “You’re a fool,” he said, and walked away. 5 The verdict was no surprise. I lost. The court ruled that the clauses in my rental agreements regarding the structural modifications were void. I was ordered to remove all partitions and restore the building to its original layout within one month. The gym and cafeteria were deemed illegal businesses, and I was fined two hundred thousand dollars. The common areas were sealed off immediately. When the verdict was announced, the courtroom erupted in applause. The tenants hugged each other, celebrating their “victory.” The reporters swarmed Liam, their cameras flashing. “This is not a personal victory,” he said to the cameras, his face flushed with triumph. “This is a victory for the law, for justice! It’s a message to all young people: when you face injustice, do not be silent! Do not compromise! Stand up and fight for your rights!” A reporter shoved a microphone in my face. “Ms. Chen, what do you have to say about the verdict? Will you appeal?” I said nothing. My lawyer escorted me through the crowd. As I was getting into my car, I heard Liam’s voice behind me. “Landlord.” I stopped, but I didn’t turn around. He walked up to me, the reporters trailing behind him. He looked at me, a smirk on his face. “It’s a new era,” he said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “The days of cutting corners and playing the sympathy card are over. Young people aren’t so easily fooled anymore.” I looked him in the eye. The victory in his was blinding. I said nothing. I just gave him one long, hard look. Then I got in my car and drove away. As I pulled away, I saw him in the rearview mirror, surrounded by his cheering fans, a conquering hero. I took out my phone and turned it off. Then I closed my eyes. One week. That’s all I needed.

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I saw it with my own eyes: my wife, eight months pregnant, fooling around with the new intern in her office. In the fallout, I chose my daughter, not my wife. I raised her with the help of my best friend. Twenty years later, at the equity transfer ceremony, my daughter told me she had a special gift for me. Smiling, I began to sign the contract. Halfway through my signature, the pen ran out of ink. I set it down, about to signal my assistant for a replacement. But my daughter, assuming I had finished, clapped her hands toward the conference room doors. The doors swung open, and a middle-aged woman walked in. A woman whose face haunted my nightmares, a woman I had fantasized about tearing apart with my bare hands a thousand times over. 1 “This is your big gift for me?” The polished, radiant woman standing before me was none other than my ex-wife, Lillian—the woman who had cheated on me during her pregnancy without a shred of shame. The moment she appeared, every eye in the room swiveled to me. Many of them had been there for the spectacular implosion of my marriage, and they had all watched me raise my child alone, through years of tireless work. “Dad,” my daughter, Sophie, said, her voice smooth. “You’ve been through so much, all these years alone. It’s time you and Mom made things right.” I gripped the arms of my chair and pushed myself up, my voice urgent as I reached for Sophie’s hand. “Sophie, you don’t understand what happened back then. You’re old enough now. I can explain everything.” But she pulled her hand away, her face a cold mask. “I already know what happened. Mom had a moment of weakness, and for that, you threw her out and robbed me of a mother for twenty years.” The air was punched from my lungs. I couldn’t believe it. The child I had poured my entire life into was so blind to the truth. Lillian shot me a look of smug triumph. “Ethan, Sophie is my daughter. She came from my body. That’s an undeniable fact. No matter how hard you tried to keep us apart, you can’t sever the bond of blood.” Sophie pulled out a chair for her at the head of the table, guiding her to sit in a director’s seat. It was a gesture of care she had never once shown me, her own father. I took a deep breath, fighting for composure. I looked at my daughter. “After all these years, after everything I’ve done for you, are you really going to betray me for this woman who walked out on us?” Sophie’s brow furrowed in disgust. “She is my mother. You will not insult her like that.” Mr. Davies, one of the board members, finally spoke up, unable to watch any longer. “Sophie, your mother was clearly in the wrong back then. That’s why Ethan divorced her and removed her from the company. For you to bring her back the moment you take over… that’s a hard pill for anyone to swallow.” Other shareholders around the table nodded in agreement. But Sophie was unmoved. “I could have had a happy, complete family,” she declared, her voice ringing with accusation. “But for the sake of his own pride, he stubbornly threw my mother out. Because of him, kids at school bullied me my entire childhood, calling me the girl with no mom.” “If he had just swallowed his pride for my sake—forgiven her for one mistake—I never would have had to suffer like that.” “He already ruined my childhood. Is he going to ruin my chance to finally heal from it, too?” Her words were a blade, twisting in my heart. All these years, I had never spoken of Lillian in front of Sophie. I wanted to shield her from the hatred, to let her grow up happy and healthy. I never imagined that instead of hating the mother who abandoned her, she would grow to hate me for shattering her fantasy of a perfect family. I dug my nails into my palm, a desperate attempt to hold back the tears stinging my eyes. I pointed a trembling finger at Lillian. “If you have to choose between us, Sophie, right here, right now… who is it?” Sophie was silent for a long moment before her voice, firm and resolute, cut through the tension. “You and Mom are the most important people in my life. If you’re going to be as stubborn as you were twenty years ago and try to tear my family apart again, then I’ll have to do to you what you did to her.” My legs nearly gave out. “What does that mean?” She walked over to me and picked up the contract from the table. “The equity transfer is complete. I’m in charge of the company now.” “Dad,” she said, her voice devoid of warmth. “It’s time for you to step down.” “If you refuse to accept Mom back into our lives, then I’ll have to teach you a lesson. You’re going to experience the same suffering she did for the past twenty years. It’s time you learned what karma feels like.” She closed the folder, completely oblivious to the fact that the signature was incomplete. Suddenly, I felt like I was meeting the child I raised for the very first time. Back then, blind with rage, I had landed a few solid punches on that intern. Lillian, despite being eight months pregnant, had thrown herself in front of him, shielding him like a woman possessed. The struggle ruptured her amniotic sac, and she was rushed to the hospital. After the birth, she screamed from her hospital bed that the baby was a cursed thing, that the sight of it made her sick. She warned me not to even think about using a child to tie her down. She never even asked if it was a boy or a girl, or if it was even alive. She just signed the divorce papers and ran off with her lover without a backward glance. For twenty years, I never mentioned her name. I forbade her from ever coming near Sophie. My daughter shouldn’t have even known a person named Lillian existed. Yet here they were, putting on a show of mother-daughter devotion for the entire board, looking as if they’d known each other for years. I couldn’t piece together where everything had gone wrong, but one thing was terrifyingly clear: there was a traitor in my midst. My eyes swept across the faces in the room, searching for a flicker of malice, of sadistic pleasure. I found nothing. “Fine,” I said, my voice steady. “I can accept Lillian back. On one condition.” Hearing me relent, Sophie’s expression softened instantly. “What is it?” “When did you first find out about her?” Sophie’s eyes lit up, as if she were recalling a cherished memory. “It’s a long story. When I was in elementary school, the other kids would pick on me, saying I was the weird girl with no mom, that they could do whatever they wanted to me.” “One day, a group of them cornered me after school. Mom appeared out of nowhere and saved me. She scared them off, and after that, no one ever bullied me again.” “That’s when I learned the truth. It wasn’t that I didn’t have a mother; she had been watching over me all along, from the shadows.” A tear welled in her eye. “And she couldn’t come home because you, in your selfishness, had cast her out.” I pressed on. “So you recognized each other then? Did she know it was you, or did someone tell her?” I knew Lillian. She couldn’t care less about the child she’d just given birth to, let alone feel a sudden pang of conscience and rush to protect a bullied little girl. A coincidence that perfect could only have been scripted. Someone had been pulling the strings, connecting them. “For that, we have someone very special to thank,” Sophie said, a smile gracing her lips. “And he’s here now.” As she spoke, the conference room doors opened once more. Standing in the doorway was a man in a bespoke suit, radiating an aura of mature, refined confidence. “Godfather!” Sophie cried out, her face breaking into a genuine, happy smile. It was my special assistant, Mark Peterson. For years, he was the one person besides myself I trusted implicitly. He’d been with me through thick and thin. He was my brother in all but blood. Since he never married or had children of his own, I’d asked Sophie to call him her godfather. Mark’s leather-soled shoes clicked against the floor as he walked straight to Sophie’s side. “Is the transfer complete?” Sophie nodded. “Yes. We were just waiting for you to celebrate Mom’s homecoming.” Mark reached out and affectionately ruffled her hair. “Good girl. You did well.” “You were the one who made it possible for Mom and me to reunite,” Sophie said, beaming at him. “You’re the hero of this story. We couldn’t possibly celebrate without you.” Her words shattered what little composure I had left. My voice trembled. “You’re telling me… it was Mark who introduced you to Lillian?” “Yes. Godfather couldn’t bear to see us kept apart. He told me the truth a long time ago.” My gaze, cold as ice, locked onto Mark. “I never thought the one to betray me would be you. You, of all people. You know there’s nothing I hate more than betrayal.” “Don’t make it sound so ugly, Ethan,” he said with a dismissive wave. “I just felt sorry for Sophie, growing up without a mother. Not everyone can be as heartless as you.” I slammed my fist on the table, the sound echoing my collapse. “What did I ever do to you? How have I ever wronged you for you to do this to me?” Mark wasn’t just my colleague; we’d been friends since college. Back then, when he was so broke he was about to drop out, I gave him my allowance to cover his tuition. We survived for months on nothing but cheap bread together. He swore to me then that wherever I went, he’d be there to support me, to repay my kindness. Even when Lillian’s scandal broke, everyone in the company hid it from me. It was Mark who risked his job to tell me the truth. From that day forward, he became the person I trusted most in the world. When his career stalled, I promoted him. I cleared obstacles from his path, gave him power and authority. After me, he had the most influence in the company. When he said he didn’t want a family, I made him a part of mine. I remembered now how Sophie, as a child, would have these strange tantrums, screaming that she hated me, that I was a cruel father. I always assumed it was because my work kept me away, that I wasn’t there for her enough. Now I saw it all. Mark had been poisoning her mind against me, then playing the peacemaker to gain both our trust. My voice was hoarse with disbelief. “You knew everything that happened back then. You knew Lillian was carrying my child when she was messing around in her office. How could you help her get back to my daughter? After what she did, how could you do this to me?” Mark’s face twisted with resentment. “What, you wanted Sophie to live her entire life without a mother? Twenty years was more than enough punishment for Lillian. This day was always going to come.” He gestured around the room. “And now the company is in Sophie’s hands. If you want to live out your days in comfort, you’ll welcome Lillian home.” “The way you say her name… Lillian,” I spat. “What the hell is going on between you two?” A smug, vicious grin spread across his face. He raised his chin, looking down his nose at me. “Well, since we’re laying all our cards on the table…” “Let’s just say the intern wasn’t her only affair back then.” He turned to look at Lillian, his eyes filled with a sickening adoration. The world tilted on its axis. “You two… you were together behind my back all along?” A flicker of pure hatred flashed in Mark’s eyes. “If that new intern hadn’t been so damn brazen, trying to step on my territory, I never would have exposed her in the first place.” I closed my eyes, the pain a physical blow. “I treated you like a brother. Why?” Mark laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “You treated me well? You were always the master, throwing me scraps from your table. You gave me things you had in excess.” “We were supposed to be equals! We both graduated from a top university. I graduated first in our class; you were near the bottom. But you walked straight into a manager position while I had to claw my way up from the mailroom, terrified every single day that I’d be fired.” “Lillian told me she always liked me more. The only reason she chose you was for your family’s money. She wouldn’t have given you a second look otherwise.” His voice rose to a furious shout. “Just because you were born rich, I was supposed to hand over everything that should have been mine. Tell me, Ethan, how is that fair?” “Everything you have now,” I ground out through clenched teeth, “I gave to you!” “Is that all you can do?” he roared back, his face contorted with rage. “Hold your charity over my head? You’re a damned hypocrite, Ethan. You get off on it, don’t you? The feeling of tossing a bone to the less fortunate, having people worship you. But you’re a ruthless, selfish bastard underneath it all.” My body went numb. “This whole thing… you planned this together?” Mark walked to Lillian’s side and wrapped a protective arm around her. “So what if we did?” “The company belongs to Sophie now. Do you have any idea how long we’ve waited for this day?” he sneered. “You have nothing left, Ethan. You can either nod and welcome Lillian home, or you can pack your bags and get out. It’s your turn to see how it feels to suffer.” He kept saying her name, Lillian, and it made my stomach turn. Lillian leaned into his embrace, her face alight with petty victory. “How does it feel, Ethan? To have everyone you trust turn against you and side with me?” I glared at her. “You were the one who cheated! If I were you, I’d be too ashamed to ever show my face again, let alone try to reclaim a daughter you abandoned.” “Enough, Dad!” Sophie cut in. “I know you have no feelings for Mom. I’m not asking you to get back together. I’m just asking you to let her and Godfather be happy.” “If you hadn’t gotten in the way, they would have been married years ago. Since you don’t want her, let Godfather have her. We can still be a family. We can all live together, peacefully.” I laughed, a harsh, broken sound. “A family?” My best friend, one of the men who destroyed my marriage, and now my daughter, the daughter I raised alone for two decades, wants me to give them my blessing. “Let’s all just compromise,” Sophie pleaded. “You accept Mom and Godfather’s relationship, and I’ll support you for the rest of your life.” “What are you saying? If I don’t let these two adulterers have their happy ending, you’ll actually throw me out?” “What happens next is your choice. But I will not let what happened twenty years ago happen again. Anyone who tries to destroy my family will be the one to leave.” She didn’t say it directly, but the threat was clear. I had one option: bless this disgusting union. Otherwise, I would be the villain, the one tearing her “family” apart. And with the company in her hands, she held all the power. One word from her, and I’d be gone. I looked my daughter in the eye, my voice hard as steel. “I will never let them have an easy life.” Hate flashed in Sophie’s eyes. “You have to be this selfish?” “Fine. Then get out of this company. Get out of my house. When you’ve had a change of heart, you can come back.” I leaned back in my chair, a slow, cold smile spreading across my face. “Who leaves is still up for debate.” Mark scoffed. “Get a grip, Ethan. The shares are in Sophie’s name. You have no say here anymore.” I raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” “Sophie,” I said, my tone shifting to that of a disappointed teacher. “How many times have I told you? Be meticulous. The details are what matter. Don’t let your victory be undone by a simple oversight.” Panic flickered across her face. “What are you talking about?” “If you’d bothered to look at the contract you just closed, you’d know this is far from over.”

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A customer ordered a mango smoothie and asked me to hold the ice. I told her I couldn’t. She filed a complaint. My manager called me useless, fired me on the spot, and withheld my entire month’s paycheck. The next day, I walked straight up to the counter and looked my former manager in the eye. “One mango smoothie.” “Hold the ice.” 1 “I’m sorry, what did you say, ma’am?” I held the blender pitcher in my hand, convinced I was hearing things. The woman in front of me, dressed in a chic pantsuit that probably cost more than my entire summer’s earnings, gave me an impatient eye-roll. “Are you deaf? I said, hold. The. Ice. Got it?” I took a patient breath. “Ma’am, a smoothie is made by blending fruit with ice. Without the ice, it’s not really a…” “I’m on my period. I can’t have anything cold,” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Just do what I’m telling you! You’re a minimum-wage worker, you don’t get paid to argue.” Her voice climbed an octave, ringing with an astonishing level of entitlement. Trying to find a solution, I grabbed a mesh strainer. “If I strain the ice out, it’s just going to be a cup of sugary syrup. Are you sure that’s what you want?” “Syrup? Are you kidding me?” she shrieked. “Who drinks syrup? I want a smoothie! A smoothie! Don’t change the texture! Understand?” A wave of despair washed over me. She wanted the texture of a smoothie without the one ingredient that creates the texture. This was a mission impossible. I was just a college kid on a summer job. What cosmic joke was this? I shot a desperate look at my coworkers. They were a blur of motion, slinging drinks and rattling shakers, completely oblivious to my predicament. “Maya! What’s taking so long? It’s a smoothie, not rocket science!” Brenda, the store manager, barked my name from across the room. Sweat beaded on my forehead. I just needed to get this woman out of the store. “Ma’am, I really can’t meet your request. How about I refund your money, and you can have this one on the house?” I pushed the perfectly normal, ice-filled smoothie I’d made toward her. The words had barely left my mouth when a flash of icy cold exploded across my face. She had thrown the entire drink at me. “On the house? This cup of garbage?” she sneered, her face twisted in contempt. “Who the hell do you think you are? Am I some kind of beggar?” The store fell silent. Every customer, every delivery driver, turned to stare. Standing there, dripping with mango pulp and sticky ice, a hot, bitter shame pricked at my eyes. I’d never been so humiliated in my life. The service industry… it was brutal. I blinked hard, forcing the tears back, and silently wiped the slush from my cheeks. I processed the refund with trembling fingers. “Your order has been canceled and your money returned. Have a nice day.” The woman exploded. “I never said I wanted to cancel! Who told you to do that?” I ignored her and turned to the next order. That’s when she completely lost it, her voice a hysterical screech. “Oh, so now you’re giving me the silent treatment? Is this your attitude? Do you have any idea who I am? I’ll have your job for this!” A man in the line behind her finally spoke up. “Lady, give it a rest! Can’t you see they’re slammed?” “Yeah, if you’re not gonna buy anything, get lost! You’re holding everyone up!” someone else chimed in. “Is order 987 ready yet? I’m going to be late!” Amid the chorus of complaints, the woman’s face turned a shade of mottled purple. She shot me one last venomous glare before shoving the door open and storming out. I shouldn’t have been surprised when, later that day, I was officially notified of a customer complaint filed against my name. 2 Brenda stormed over to me, holding her phone out like a weapon. Her face was as dark as the bottom of a burnt coffee pot. “Maya! Look what you’ve done! A customer complained about your terrible attitude and said you canceled her order without permission!” “Brenda, you were right there,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. “She was being completely unreasonable, demanding a smoothie with no ice. I only refunded her because…” “You refunded her?” Brenda slammed her hand on the counter, and I flinched. “Did the customer agree to a refund? You took matters into your own hands without her consent, and you think you’re in the right?” Her finger was practically in my nose. “The customer is God, do you understand? If God wants a smoothie with no ice, you figure out a way to make it happen!” A bubble of incredulous laughter escaped my lips. “Even God has to obey the laws of physics, Brenda. A smoothie without ice is impossible. Not even a miracle worker could do it.” “Oh, you want to talk to me about physics?” Brenda sneered, her voice dripping with a familiar, acidic sarcasm. “Right. You’re the genius from Northwood University. You’re the one with the fancy education. You understand physics.” She leaned in closer. “We’re just the uneducated idiots here, right? The blue-collar morons. Is that what you think of us, Maya?” And just like that, it all clicked into place. I finally understood why, from my very first day, Brenda had targeted me. Why I always got the worst shifts, the grimiest jobs, why she encouraged the others to give me the cold shoulder. It was because of something the district supervisor had said during his last visit. “Maya’s one of our star hires! A real brain from Northwood. She’s got a different perspective than the rest of us lifers.” Brenda had been holding onto that resentment ever since. I swallowed my anger and tried again. “Brenda, that’s not what I meant. But the customer’s request was literally impossible. I couldn’t do it.” “You couldn’t do it?” She rolled her eyes, her voice rising to a shout for the whole store to hear. “Wow! So that big, expensive university just teaches you how to be useless, huh?” “If you can’t do the job, then get out! Stop wasting my oxygen!” A surge of fury shot through me. I pointed at the blender. “You’re so capable, Brenda. Why don’t you show me how to make a smoothie with no ice?” Her face flushed a deep, blotchy red. For a second, she was speechless. “You… Maya! What is that tone?” she finally sputtered. “Are you talking back to your manager? You think you’ve earned the right to challenge me?” “You get a single complaint, and suddenly you’re this arrogant? This little store is clearly too small to contain your massive ego!” “I’m making an executive decision. You’re fired! Get your things and get out. Now!” 3 “On what grounds? I did nothing wrong! That customer was harassing me!” “Harassing you?” Brenda let out a short, ugly laugh. “Whether a customer is right or wrong is for me to decide, not you! Now get out!” “Fine! I’ll go!” I ripped my name tag off and threw it on the floor. “Just give me my final paycheck, and I’m gone.” “Your paycheck?” Brenda looked at me as if I’d just told the funniest joke in the world. “You got a formal complaint filed against you and single-handedly generated a dozen one-star reviews online! Do you have any idea how much damage that does to this franchise?” “You should be on your knees thanking me for not suing you for damages! And you want a paycheck? In your dreams.” “You can’t just withhold my wages.” “That pathetic check of yours doesn’t even begin to cover the cost of your screw-up!” she spat. “Consider the fact that you’re a student, and I’ll be merciful and waive the rest of what you owe me. Now pack your crap and get the hell out of my store!” I was shaking with rage. Brenda had me on the schedule for a full shift every single day for a month. I came in an hour early to prep and stayed an hour late to clean, never taking a single day off. Over ten hours a day, every day. All for her to tell me it was for nothing? I clenched my fists. “Withholding wages is illegal!” “So what? Go ahead and sue me!” Brenda laughed coldly. “You think you know everything, you little brat? I was running scams in this city when you were still drinking from a bottle.” Her eyes narrowed. “You read a few books and think you’re hot stuff. Let me tell you something, sweetheart. Today, I’d sooner feed that money to a dog than give it to a useless waste of space like you.” She shoved me toward the entrance and slammed the door behind me. I stared at my reflection in the dark glass, a fire of humiliation and rage burning in my chest. My paycheck. That was my money, earned with every drop of my sweat. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. 4 I went straight to the office of the brand’s regional supervisor, Mr. Peterson. It didn’t take long for Brenda to get wind of it. She burst through the door, immediately launching into her performance. “Mr. Peterson, you have no idea. Maya is completely incompetent!” she cried, playing the part of the long-suffering manager. “Her drinks are a mess, and she argues with customers! She got one so angry they filed a complaint on the spot!” She pulled out her phone, frantically tapping the screen. “Look at this! The internet is flooded with one-star reviews from that one incident! I only fired her to protect the store, to protect the brand’s reputation!” Mr. Peterson held up a hand. “Okay, Brenda, I hear you. But what’s this about withholding her wages?” he asked, his tone weary. “Even if she was terminated, you have to pay her for the hours she worked. That’s basic labor law.” “Oh, I didn’t withhold them! She forfeited them voluntarily.” I thought my lungs would explode. “You’re lying, Brenda!” “When did I voluntarily forfeit anything? Forfeit what? That was my paycheck! Why would I ever agree to give that up?” Brenda suddenly let out a small, condescending chuckle that grew into a full-blown laugh. “What’s so funny?” I demanded. “I’m laughing at you, Maya. The thief who cries thief.” She calmly slid a piece of paper across the desk. “This is the part-time employment agreement you signed on your first day. It’s all right there, in black and white.” Her sharp fingernail jabbed at a line of dense, tiny text. “Open your eyes and read it carefully.” I leaned over the desk. The moment I processed the words, all the blood rushed to my head with a roar. Printed in nearly microscopic font was a single sentence: In the event that my professional misconduct results in financial or reputational loss for the store, I voluntarily agree to forfeit the entirety of my monthly salary as compensation. Brenda’s voice was a syrupy, triumphant purr. “It’s right there, Maya. In black and white. That’s your signature, isn’t it? You’re not going to back out of a signed agreement, are you?” My fists were clenched so tight my knuckles were white. I remembered signing it. Brenda had flipped straight to the last page, tapping it impatiently. “Hurry up and sign! We’re getting slammed, I need you on the floor.” “What about the first few pages?” I had asked. “What’s there to see? It’s all legal boilerplate, you wouldn’t understand it anyway,” she’d said with a dismissive wave. “This is a major franchise, you think we’re going to scam you? Sign it. I’m busy.” I was the new girl. I didn’t dare argue, terrified of being labeled “difficult” or “uncooperative” before my first shift even started. Who could have possibly imagined she’d hidden a clause like that in the middle of the paperwork? 5 Mr. Peterson picked up the paper, his brow furrowing as he read. He let out a long sigh. “Well, Ms.…” he trailed off, forgetting my last name. “Maya… you signed it. Your signature means you agreed to the terms.” He shook his head, his expression a mask of corporate helplessness. “This was a compensatory agreement between the two of you. As a supervisor… there’s really nothing I can do to intervene.” He pushed the agreement back toward me as if it were radioactive. My own sloppy signature stared up at me, a mocking grin. I shot to my feet. “I was never given a chance to read that contract properly!” I said, my voice rising. “I was tricked into signing it! It should be invalid!” Mr. Peterson sighed again. “The agreement was made in duplicate, wasn’t it? You should have your own copy. Why didn’t you notice this clause until now?” He looked at me expectantly. “Bring out your copy, let’s compare.” “I…” I stopped short. It was true, I had signed two copies. Brenda had handed one to me. But somewhere between my shift and getting home that first day, the folded papers in my bag had vanished. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. It was just a contract for a two-month summer job. What did it matter if I lost it? Now I knew. It was all part of Brenda’s plan. She stole my copy. My head drooped. “I… I can’t find it. It’s gone.” “Gone?” Brenda let out a sharp, theatrical gasp. “Or maybe you’re just too scared to show it because you know you’re lying.” She blinked, her face a picture of false sincerity. “Maya, in the professional world, we have something called ‘contractual integrity.’ This is a legally binding document. This isn’t like some game you play at school, you know.” Looking at her smug, fake smile, a chilling realization washed over me. This was a setup. Brenda had been planning this from the very beginning, using the dirtiest trick in the book to steal a month’s worth of my labor. I turned and walked out of Mr. Peterson’s office in a daze. “Look at the pathetic little stray!” Brenda’s voice called after me. She caught up in the hallway, jabbing a finger hard into my chest. “Big shot from Northwood, huh? Still ended up crawling on your knees for me.” “Sue me? Don’t make me laugh. You should take a good long look in the mirror and ask yourself if you’re even worthy.” “You should thank me, Maya. I just gave you an early lesson in how cruel the real world is.” I leaned against the cold wall of the corridor, my entire body trembling. Brenda laughed. “Can’t even handle a little setback like this? What a loser.” Her footsteps faded down the hall. Slowly, I pushed myself upright. I wiped a single, furious tear from the corner of my eye. You think you’ve won, Brenda? You are so naive. You may have fired me, but I have plenty of ways to make you pay. 6 The next day, I pushed open the door to Sip City. “One pineapple smoothie.” Brenda’s head snapped up. I met her shocked gaze, pulling the baseball cap from my head. “Hold,” I said, pausing for effect. “The. Ice.” For a split second, I saw a flicker of genuine fear in her eyes. “Maya… is… is that you?” “Is it customary for employees to address customers by their first name in this establishment?” The color drained from Brenda’s face. It took her a long moment to compose herself, forcing her lips into a brittle, professional smile. “I’m sorry, miss, but we can’t make a smoothie without ice.” “You can’t?” I asked, my voice light and breezy. “But the customer is God. And God’s requests must be unconditionally met.” I took a step closer to the counter, letting my presence loom over her. “Aren’t those your words, Manager Brenda?” “Right now, I am your God.” I adopted her condescending tone from the day before. “And. I. Want. A. Smoothie. With. No. Ice.” With every word, her face grew paler. “The shape and texture must remain unchanged,” I added. “Please, satisfy your ‘God,’ Manager Brenda.” Her face cycled through shades of red and white. “I can’t do it! I won’t sell you a smoothie. Please go somewhere else.” “You can’t do it?” I let out a soft laugh. “You were so high and mighty yesterday when you were calling me useless. But now that it’s your turn to serve God, you’re chickening out?” My eyes swept over the other employees and the curious customers. “Where’s that energy you had when you were tricking me into signing that contract? When you were stealing my paycheck?” I leaned forward. “If you put half that devious energy into your job, I bet you could make me a hot ice cream, let alone a smoothie without ice.” Brenda’s jaw was clenched. “Maya! You’re just here to cause trouble!” “So what if I am?” I shot back. “‘Even if the customer wants the stars from the sky, you have to find a way to get them.’ That’s another one of your lessons, isn’t it, manager?” “I don’t want the stars. I just want a smoothie without ice. For someone of your talents, that should be easy. Right, Manager Brenda?” She looked like she was about to have an aneurysm. “Maya! What the hell do you want from me?” she finally screamed. I smiled. “Simple. Fulfill my request. Or. Apologize. Publicly.” As every eye in the store fixed on her, Brenda’s face went from red to purple to a ghastly pale. A few seconds later, she squeezed a single word through her gritted teeth. “…Fine.” She stiffly removed her apron and walked out from behind the counter. In front of everyone, she bowed deeply to me—the employee she had insulted, cheated, and conspired against. “I’m sorry, I cannot fulfill your request. I apologize.” I reached out and patted her rigid shoulder, my voice dripping with false magnanimity. “See? A true manager. So flexible.” Then, I leaned down to her ear, whispering so only she could hear. “But don’t think for a second, Brenda, that a little bow erases what you did to me.” “I have all the time in the world. And I’m going to enjoy playing with you. Slowly.”

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The words appeared in the air right as the new girl started her introduction. Bright white, shimmering like a glitch in my vision, like subtitles for a movie I was suddenly trapped inside. 【Here we go. The female lead falls for the male lead at first sight. She’s going to chase him relentlessly, even though he already has a girlfriend.】 【He’ll go from annoyed to completely captivated by her! God, I can’t wait for this to start!】 【Look, they just made eye contact!】 And then, as if on cue, the transfer student, Lila Jensen, finished her “hi, my name is” and walked straight toward my desk. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice a little too sweet. “Can I sit here?” Beside me, my boyfriend, Liam, let out an annoyed scoff. “Who the hell do you think you are, asking to sit next to me?” The subtitles exploded in a frenzy. 1 【Ugh, the male lead is so harsh! I can’t wait until he’s hopelessly in love, begging for forgiveness and apologizing for this very moment!】 【Seriously, this side-piece has no self-awareness. Just get up and give her the seat. Maybe Liam will spare you later if you do!】 The information flooded my brain, delivered by this bizarre, impossible feed. I was the villain in a romance novel. The “evil girlfriend.” The childhood friend. The story was simple: Lila, the heroine, falls for Liam at first sight. I, consumed by jealousy, try to sabotage her at every turn, framing her, humiliating her, until I become a twisted, unrecognizable version of myself. My descent into wickedness would, of course, make Liam despise me. He’d finally see Lila for the tenacious, pure-hearted girl she was and fall for her instead. To make his new love happy, he would systematically destroy me and my family, pushing us to the brink until we had nothing left, culminating in a family suicide by jumping off a bridge. I frowned, the phantom words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. As Liam’s insult landed, Lila’s eyes immediately welled with tears. Her body swayed as if she’d been struck, and a wave of whispers washed over the classroom. I stood up, shrugging. “Whatever. You want the seat? It’s yours.” He’s just a boy. A boy whose heart, according to my new paranormal ticker tape, was destined to change anyway. Why should I care? Besides, Liam was the one who’d chased me. Lila stared at me, her expression a perfect mask of disbelief. But Liam grabbed my wrist, his eyes shooting daggers at her. “Get lost,” he snapped. “You’re ruining my day.” Lila’s face went pale, a picture of delicate heartbreak. She looked at Liam, her voice trembling. “I-I just thought… you seemed familiar. I’m new here, I don’t know anyone, so…” Then, as if pumping herself up, she added, “And I’m a really good student. I was first in my class at my old school. I could help you with your work!” Liam let out a short, brutal laugh. “First in your class? Paige is first in our class. You think you’re qualified to tutor me?” In the end, she didn’t get the seat. Lila walked to the only empty desk, the one by the trash cans in the back corner of the room. 2 The moment class ended, Lila returned with a large bag filled with boba tea. She passed them out, her cheeks flushed with a shy smile. “I’m new here, so I just wanted to thank everyone for being so welcoming. This is for you guys.” The class erupted in cheers. But when she got to my desk, the bag was suddenly empty. Lila looked at me, her face a canvas of remorse. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Paige. I must have miscounted. Here, you can have mine.” She held her cup out to me. I instinctively raised a hand to refuse. “No, that’s okay, thank—” Before I could finish, the cup tilted. Icy, milky tea cascaded down the front of her shirt. Lila gasped, her eyes instantly filling with tears as she stared at me. “Paige… I know what I did this morning was presumptuous, and I already apologized. You already made me sit by the garbage cans. What more do you want from me?” Her words were a lit match in a gas-filled room. The class turned on me. “I knew she was a bitch. She always acts so high and mighty just because Liam likes her. And now she’s bullying the new girl?” “So that’s why Lila is sitting by the trash! I thought there were other seats. Paige must have forced her!” “Doesn’t Paige’s family have money? Why is she tormenting someone over a cup of boba?” Lila was only wearing a thin, white blouse. The dark tea made the cheap fabric translucent, revealing the outline of her bra. The subtitles scrolling in front of my eyes were all praising her genius, not a single one calling her out for being a homewrecker. They saw it as a noble sacrifice for love. I opened my mouth to explain, to say that I hadn’t touched her, but Liam, who had been silent until now, cut through the noise. He pulled off his own jacket and threw it at her, then glared at the rest of the class. “All of you, shut up! Get out!” The other students, intimidated by Liam, fell silent but continued to stare at me with open hostility. After Lila scurried away, clutching his jacket, Liam leaned closer to me, his voice a low murmur. “I only love you, Paige. You don’t have to go after her.” I blinked. “What?” He just turned away, pretending to sleep on his desk. A heavy, frustrating pressure built in my chest. The subtitles were right. This was exactly how it was supposed to go. To avoid a worse fate, I decided to go to our guidance counselor and request a seat change. If I couldn’t fight this narrative, maybe I could outrun it. But when I returned to the classroom, I found Lila sitting in my chair, her body pressed against Liam’s as she pointed at something in his textbook. She was drowning in his oversized jacket, the entire scene an intimate portrait of dependence and protection. The second they saw me, they sprang apart. Lila jumped to her feet, her voice laced with panic. “I’m so sorry! Liam helped me earlier, so I just wanted to return the favor by helping him with this problem!” Then, she did the most theatrical thing I had ever seen. She knelt and started wiping down my stool with the sleeve of his jacket. “You don’t like me here, I’ll clean it for you!” Before I could speak, Liam pulled her to her feet, his voice cold and pointedly directed at me. “We’re all human beings. You don’t have to be afraid of us.” He turned to me then, his expression flat. “It’s not what it looks like.” I managed a smile. “I know.” With as much grace as I could muster, I walked to the desk, gathered my books, and moved them to an empty seat in the very front row. Liam shot up, his hand grabbing my arm. “What are you doing?” Lila’s voice was a wounded whisper. “Do you hate me that much?” I sighed, looking at the faces around me, all poised to condemn me again. “You’ve misunderstood,” I said, my voice calm and even. “Finals are coming up, and I want to focus. Sitting in the front will help. Besides,” I added, glancing between them, “Lila wanted to sit next to you, Liam. This way, everyone gets what they want, right? And I’d hate for her to have to sit by the trash cans. We wouldn’t want that to affect her grades.” Liam’s jaw tightened. “Can you just stop it?” I stared at him, genuinely confused. He let out a cold laugh and, without another word, walked to the back of the room, grabbed Lila’s things, and dumped them on my now-empty desk. “From now on, you’re my deskmate.” The class hooted and whistled as Lila’s face turned a triumphant shade of crimson. I thought that if I just removed myself from their orbit, I’d be safe. But then, the subtitles began to scream again. 3 【Lila is so clever! She realized Liam is just using her to make the villainess jealous. So, she’s decided to completely destroy the villainess’s reputation during tomorrow’s midterms!】 【Ruin her image in Liam’s eyes completely!】 A cold dread washed over me. What was she planning? The day the midterm results were posted arrived far too quickly. Our teacher, Ms. Albright, stood at the front of the class, beaming. “I’m thrilled to announce that the top score in our grade belongs to one of our own, Paige Miller! Congratulations, Paige!” A stunned silence fell over the room, followed by a ripple of whispers. Ms. Albright continued, “And in second place, our new student, Lila Jensen, with an impressive score herself! Come on up, you two, and get your academic awards!” Lila stood up, but she hesitated, her eyes downcast. “Ms. Albright,” she said, her voice just loud enough to carry. “I… I can’t accept this.” I felt a familiar knot of dread tighten in my stomach. The teacher paused, her smile faltering. “What’s wrong, Lila?” Lila glanced at me, her expression a mess of inner turmoil, before finally speaking. “I saw Paige with a cheat sheet during the exam. This test wasn’t fair. I want to give my award to the next person on the list.” The room exploded. In seconds, someone had posted the accusation on the school’s unofficial gossip blog. Ms. Albright’s face grew stern. “Lila, that’s a very serious accusation. You need proof to say something like that.” Lila burst into tears. “But I saw her! If you want to protect her, there’s nothing I can do, but it’s wrong! It’s not fair to the other students, and it’s not fair to herself!” The tide of opinion turned against me in an instant. “I knew her grades were too good to be true. She probably cheated her way through high school!” “Lila is a goddess! So brave for speaking up!” Even Liam was looking at me, his face a complicated mask of doubt and disappointment. Ms. Albright called for quiet, then turned to me. “Paige? Do you have anything to say?” I stood up, my gaze locked on Lila. “You’re saying you saw me cheat?” Lila, with the air of a martyr facing down a tyrant, nodded defiantly. A small smile played on my lips. Thank God for the subtitles. I had come prepared. “Okay,” I continued. “Which subject was I cheating in? And at what point during the exam?” “All of them!” she declared. “You were cheating the entire time!” “Funny,” I said, pulling a small USB drive from my pocket. “Because I have evidence that someone else was the cheater.” The triumphant look on Lila’s face froze, replaced by a flicker of panic. “What… what do you mean?” I handed the drive to Ms. Albright. “This is the security footage from the exam hall. I got a copy from the office this morning. It’s the full, unedited, high-definition recording.” As Ms. Albright walked to her computer to plug it in, Lila suddenly cried out, her eyes pleading with me. “Wait! Maybe… maybe I was mistaken!” I smiled sweetly. “Seeing is believing, right? And the camera doesn’t lie. Besides, I don’t particularly enjoy being framed. What are you so afraid of, Lila?” Her face went ashen. The subtitles, ever loyal to their heroine, were in full-blown meltdown. 【When is this bitch finally going to get what she deserves? Why isn’t the plot working?】 【Lila was just a little stressed from chasing Liam, that’s why her test scores were a bit off and she felt the need to cheat. Why does the villainess have to be so petty and expose her?】 【Why isn’t she falling for it? If she’d just let herself be framed, Liam would be completely won over by Lila’s righteousness! Lila has worked so hard these past few days, he’s already falling for her! Our Lila is so adorable!】 4 But it was too late. The video was already playing on the projector screen. Halfway through, the camera’s view clearly showed Lila, hunched over her desk, furtively taking pictures of the test paper with her phone. Then, she looked up, shooting a venomous glare directly in my direction. The entire class gasped. The video continued, showing me completing my test, never once looking at anything other than my own paper. The so-called cheat sheet never appeared. The atmosphere in the room shifted. A girl in the front row muttered, “Oh my God, she’s one of those psycho girls. And isn’t Liam officially Paige’s boyfriend? What’s with this chick bringing him lunch and hanging all over him every day?” “Right? Anyone who didn’t know better would think she was his girlfriend.” Lila’s face was chalk-white. Her eyes, brimming with tears, rolled back in her head, and she collapsed gracefully into Liam’s arms. Liam’s expression hardened. He scooped her up, then turned to me, his voice dripping with contempt. “You went too far. You’re the one who moved away, and now you come back and bully her like this. Why do you have to be such a bitch, Paige?” He carried Lila out of the room without a backward glance. I didn’t care. All that mattered was that the truth was out. But then, the subtitles flashed a new spoiler. 【Lila looks like a heartbroken child in the male lead’s arms. But she just fell in love with him, what did she do wrong?】 【Look! To comfort Lila, Liam just promised her he’d make sure the villainess fails her finals!】 【Lila is too soft. If it were me, I’d just have her killed.】 【Don’t worry. Even if Lila doesn’t do anything, that bitch won’t get off easy. The school gossip blog is already full of people calling her a cheater. That’s definitely going to mess with her head.】

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