I was getting my car serviced at my cousin Daniel Miller’s auto club.
Once they were done, I told the staff, “Charge it to my cousin’s account.”
A staff member nodded, ready to process, but a strange female manager stepped in and stopped him.
“We don’t do tabs here. Payment must be settled on the spot.”
With that, she *slapped* the bill down in front of me.
Supreme Fine Diagnostic Fee: $80,000
Exhaust System Acoustic Enhancement: $100,000
Engine Spiritual Balance Calibration: $100,000
Total: $280,000.
I almost burst out laughing.
When did my cousin start running a scam operation?
The female manager, Vanessa Reed, folded her arms across her chest, scrutinizing me with disdain.
“I’ve seen plenty of freeloaders like you, always trying to exploit family connections. Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not if you don’t have the money.”
Without a word, I pulled out my phone and dialed my cousin.
“You have ten minutes to get her out of here, or your club won’t be in business much longer.”
“Alex, is there… some kind of misunderstanding?”
On the other end, Daniel Miller’s voice was laced with guilt and panic.
“Misunderstanding?”
My voice instantly chilled.
“Do I look like an idiot to you? I’m not calling to discuss, I’m calling to inform you. Deal with your staff, immediately!”
Daniel seemed stunned by my tone.
He quickly tried to smooth things over:
“Alex, don’t get mad. Just put Vanessa Reed on the phone. I’ll personally ask her what’s going on.”
I snorted and handed the phone to Vanessa.
She pouted, reluctantly taking the call.
“Didn’t I tell you already? You need to cut ties with these poor relatives. They just use your name to line their pockets. This time, it’s even worse; he wants to skip out on the bill after a full service.”
Daniel seemed to be explaining something on the phone, but Vanessa didn’t give him a chance to finish.
“Alright, stop. I know you’re soft-hearted and worried about family ties, always hesitant. But today, I’ll be the bad guy!”
She hung up, tossing the phone back to me, her chin held high.
“Hear that? Danny’s too busy for your pathetic drama. Stop stalling. It’s $280,500 total, but I’ll round it down for you. Just $280,000!”
“Cash, card, or bank transfer? Hurry up, or I’ll call security to escort you out!”
Vanessa deliberately emphasized “escort,” her threat clear.
Vanessa’s audacity and stupidity almost made me laugh again.
In all these years, no one had dared to be so arrogant in front of me.
Just then, the VIP room door swung open, and Daniel rushed in.
He jogged over, a fake smile plastered on his face.
“Oh, Alex, what a mess this is. Vanessa, you know, she just takes things too seriously. Don’t take it personally.”
Before I could speak, Vanessa exploded, as if I’d just stepped on her tail.
“Danny, wasn’t I doing this for your own good? Are you happy letting some broke wannabe use your name to take advantage and ruin your business?”
Vanessa shook Daniel’s arm, not forgetting to shoot me a provocative look.
Seeing this, I’d be an idiot not to understand.
I wondered why a mere manager like Vanessa Reed dared to be so arrogant; turns out she had a backer.
As if to confirm my suspicions, Daniel forced a smile and started playing the victim.
“Alex, Vanessa is my girlfriend. We’re getting engaged next month. We’ll be family soon, we’ll always be seeing each other, so how about I just pay for this?”
“No need!”
I refused coldly. Daniel’s attitude chilled me to the bone.
If I hadn’t taken pity on him because we were family, he’d still be struggling to find a stable job.
The design, renovation, operational plans, network resources, even the initial capital for this auto club—I provided all of it from behind the scenes.
I just didn’t step forward personally back then, out of consideration for his ego, so he had no idea I was the real boss.
But now, for this brainless, malicious woman, he was actually going to argue with me.
If that’s how it was, I had no reason to hold back.
$280,000? That’s less than what I spend on an average day.
What truly infuriated me wasn’t the money, but Daniel’s revolting ingratitude!
“The money, I can pay!”
The moment I spoke, Vanessa’s face lit up with a triumphant, victorious smile.
Daniel visibly relaxed, as if the matter was finally over.
“But…”
I sharply changed my tone, my voice suddenly rising.
“You’ll have to explain this $280,000 bill clearly, item by item, every single charge!”
Vanessa immediately pulled out a pre-prepared bill and read it aloud with a tone of boastful sarcasm.
“First, the Supreme Fine Diagnostic Fee. Our club uses genuine German imported analyzers, and our experts, all with ‘International Artisan Certifications,’ spend three hours on each inspection. The diagnostic fee is naturally charged at international standards.”
“Also, your car’s exhaust system had an anomaly affecting its acoustic aesthetics. We performed an ‘Italian Opera Tenor Resonating Chamber’ style upgrade, making the exhaust sound like Pavarotti’s voice—rich, powerful, and significantly enhancing its value.”
I almost thought I misheard her.
The three business partners who accompanied me twitched their mouths in disbelief.
Even Daniel awkwardly lowered his head.
Yet, she wasn’t finished. Vanessa’s claims grew even more preposterous.
“Finally, our technicians discovered your car’s turbocharger lacked dynamic balance. This isn’t a common issue; it required a Swiss vacuum-environment precision calibrator, with remote guidance from headquarters experts, for a spiritual dynamic balance calibration to ensure perfect soul-level synergy between the turbo and engine.”
“What is this called? It’s called exclusive, top-tier service, understand?”
“In short, at the Haitian Auto Club, our prices are clearly marked, and we never scam anyone. It’s simply that you’re too unsophisticated, too sheltered, and that’s why you’re making such a fuss!”
Her last sentence was dripping with obvious contempt and humiliation.
My friend Mr. Jenkins couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up, trying to defuse the tension.
“Mr. Thorne, it’s getting late. Why don’t we leave first? I’ll cover the bill.”
I raised a hand, firmly stopping him. What had transpired wasn’t about money anymore.
I had brought my business partners here to introduce Daniel to my network and get my car serviced. Who knew I’d be publicly humiliated by Vanessa?
Forcing down my rage, I turned to my three business partners and apologized sincerely.
“My deepest apologies for making you witness such a ridiculous scene and ruining your evening. To make amends, I’ll book out ‘The Zenith Club’ this Saturday and host a new banquet for all of you.”
Almost immediately after I finished speaking, my friends’ phones chimed, receiving booking confirmations and notifications from “The Zenith Club.”
Mr. Jenkins, who had just offered to pay my bill, now had a look of shock and excitement plastered on his face.
Although they were all successful business owners, they weren’t exactly top-tier players in the truly exclusive circles.
“The Zenith Club” was a legendary, private club where big bosses gathered, never open to the public. You couldn’t get in with money alone; you needed serious connections.
And I had just secured it with a single message.
In that moment, any lingering doubt they had about me completely vanished. Their eyes, as they looked at me, now held a clear sense of respect.
I walked my friends to the club’s main entrance and watched their cars drive away.
It wasn’t until their taillights disappeared that the smile vanished from my face, replaced by an icy coldness.
I turned around, ready to go back and clean house.
But Vanessa Reed, with two tall security guards, blocked the lobby entrance.
“Stop right there!”
Vanessa shrieked, pointing her finger at my nose and cursing.
“Trying to sneak away? Not a chance! You’re not taking another step out that door until you pay up!”
The two security guards moved forward in response, menacingly surrounding me.
I stopped, silently watching this absurd scene.
At the entrance of my own establishment, I was being blocked and demanded to pay a debt that shouldn’t even exist.
It was utterly laughable.
At the club’s entrance, Vanessa’s shrill voice attracted numerous customers in the lobby, who stopped to watch.
They peered curiously, their looks of disdain undisguised as they fell upon me.
It was as if I truly were a scoundrel trying to skip out on a bill.
“Someone trying to skip out at Haitian Auto Club? Must have a death wish!”
“Tsk, tsk, dressed so nicely, but doing something so disgraceful…”
“If you can’t afford Haitian, don’t come. How embarrassing.”
Being publicly shamed like this, having fingers pointed at me, sent a surge of fury straight to my head.
Daniel, standing nearby, was pale, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
“Vanessa… maybe we should just drop it…”
He tugged at Vanessa’s sleeve, his voice weak, seemingly trying to persuade her not to push things too far.
Vanessa glared at him, her eyes wide.
“Daniel, can’t you grow a spine? The money’s almost in our hands, and you want to give it back? Should we keep teaching these poor relatives a lesson again and again?”
Daniel trembled, swallowed the words he was about to say, and shrank back, daring not to speak again.
His spineless demeanor ignited my anger further, cementing my complete disappointment in him.
With a cold expression, I pulled out my phone and called my assistant.
“Chris, grab fifty thousand in cash from the car and bring it to the main entrance immediately.”
Before long, Chris, my assistant, swiftly approached, carrying a heavy silver suitcase. I motioned for him to open it.
With a *click*, the lid sprang open, revealing stacks of hundred-dollar bills neatly arranged inside—a powerful visual impact.
A collective gasp instantly rose from the crowd, and all chatter ceased.
Vanessa’s eyes went wide!
She clearly hadn’t expected that I, her so-called “poor relative,” could so casually produce $500,000 in cash.
“I should’ve said a million! What a missed opportunity!” Vanessa mumbled, her eyes darting around, as if she’d missed out on millions.
Gazing at the cash in the suitcase, Vanessa unconsciously swallowed, her breathing quickening. She reached out, intending to close the case.
“Consider yourself smart. $280,000 here will settle the maintenance service. The extra $220,000 is for the severe damage you’ve done to our club’s reputation—consider it a compensation for emotional distress!”
“Wait.”
I placed my hand on the lid, stopping her.
Vanessa instantly grew wary: “What? Trying to back out?”
“You can take the money.” I stared at her, my gaze sharp. “But you have to sign a receipt, clear in black and white.”
Daniel, beside her, suddenly jolted, finally realizing that the situation had spiraled beyond his control.
He frantically stepped forward, grabbing Vanessa’s arm, his voice pleading:
“Vanessa, you can’t sign it! We can’t take this money! Give it back to Alex!”
“Get lost, you pathetic excuse for a man!” Vanessa flung him away, glaring at him with disgust. “Money in hand, and you want to spit it out? Why would I give it back? He owes it! I’ll sign it, so no one can deny it. It’s settled, cash for services.”
She was blinded by greed, completely deaf to any advice.
Snatching a pen and paper from a nearby staff member, she signed “Vanessa Reed” with a flourish without a second thought, even pressing her red fingerprint.
“Here!”
She threw the receipt at me, then eagerly snapped the case shut and clutched it tightly.
“Honey, see? I told you I had skills! $500,000! This money is all mine for my personal stash! I’ve been eyeing that limited edition Hermès bag, but I never splurged. Now I can finally get it!” Vanessa gushed, linking arms with Daniel, her voice sickeningly sweet.
She was completely immersed in the euphoria of undeserved wealth and the anticipation of luxury goods, her face radiant with happiness.
Just as Vanessa was pulling Daniel away, the screech of tires echoed from outside the entrance.
Three pure black business vans, emblazoned with the Haitian Group emblem, pulled up to the entrance.
The doors swiftly opened.
Seven or eight grim-faced men and women in dark suits stepped out, their movements precise and confident as they strode toward the showroom entrance.
Each wore a subtle, elegant badge on their lapel – the exclusive emblem of the Haitian Group.
Leading them was a stern-faced middle-aged man with sharp eyes, radiating an unquestionable aura of authority.
This was Director Thompson, Head of the Inspection Department.
Director Thompson’s appearance made the onlookers and employees in the showroom instantly sober up, their faces paling.
Employees instinctively straightened their postures.
An invisible tension and suppression filled the air.
Director Thompson ignored everyone in his path.
His gaze swept quickly across the showroom, finally locking onto me.
He swiftly moved through the crowd, heading directly to me, and bowed slightly.
“Mr. Thorne, Director Thompson, Head of the Haitian Group’s Inspection Department, reporting for duty with my team.”
“Mr. Thor… Mr. Thorne?!”
A collective gasp filled the air.
Daniel heard the title, then saw Director Thompson’s utterly deferential attitude. His mind buzzed, and a sense of foreboding washed over him.
Vanessa also froze, her mind unable to process it.
She angrily pointed at Director Thompson and shrieked:
“Who are you people? Who let you in?!”
Director Thompson paid no attention to the flailing Vanessa.
He turned to face the entire room, his voice loud and clear.
“By the highest directive from Haitian Group Headquarters, effective immediately, we are initiating a Level One Audit and Operations Compliance Raid on the Jiangcheng branch of the Haitian Auto Club!”
“All accounts, systems, and vehicles are to be sealed for investigation. All relevant personnel, please cooperate with our inquiry!”
Highest directive! Level One Audit! Surprise Inspection!
Every word hit Daniel like a heavy hammer to his chest.
His legs turned to jelly; he could barely stand. Cold sweat instantly drenched his back.
Why would Headquarters suddenly conduct an audit?
Vanessa, at this point, still hadn’t grasped the severity of the situation. She sneered.
“What a load of rubbish, ‘Inspection Department.’ Don’t pretend to be important. I bet Mr. Thorne hired you actors! You’re pretty good at it, but you won’t scare me!”
She dramatically yelled, trying to assert control.
“This isn’t a place for your nonsense. Security! Security! Are you all dead? Get them out of here!”
However, the security guards behind her exchanged glances, their feet rooted to the spot.
Their faces showed hesitation and awe.
They had seen Headquarters’ inspection team before.
Director Thompson had even visited once during the opening.
Although he was always polite during previous inspections and training, his unspoken authority had deeply impressed them.
This time, the Inspection Department clearly meant business. Who would dare lay a hand on them?
Vanessa saw that she couldn’t even command the security guards and instantly became furious.
“You useless good-for-nothings! What do I pay you for? Move it now! I’ll take responsibility if anything goes wrong!”
Daniel was terrified. He yanked Vanessa’s arm, his voice trembling.
“Stop yelling! They’re really from Headquarters’ Inspection Department! This has really blown up now!”
Vanessa flinched, the rest of her words catching in her throat.
At that moment, she finally realized the situation was far more serious than she’d imagined.
But, like an arrow shot from a bow, there was no turning back.
Even so, she still forced herself to act calm, sticking her neck out.
“Che… inspection? What right do you have to inspect? Do you have a document? Let me see it!”
Director Thompson scoffed, took a document from his assistant, and displayed it directly in front of Vanessa and Daniel.
It was clearly an investigation letter issued by the Group CEO’s office, with a distinct red seal.
“Before the full audit begins, Manager Reed, we need to discuss the legality of the $500,000 you currently hold.”
Director Thompson waved his hand, and an assistant brought over a tablet.
The screen displayed a scanned copy of the receipt Vanessa had signed.
“Ms. Reed, according to the payment confirmation form you personally signed, you collected $500,000 cash from Mr. Thorne, under the names of Supreme Fine Diagnostic Fee, Exhaust System Acoustic Enhancement, Engine Spiritual Balance Calibration, and compensation for emotional distress.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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In my past life, my best friend wanted to marry my grandfather.
I fiercely opposed it, and she didn’t succeed.
Later, my grandfather married a woman close to her age, and they had a lavish wedding.
My best friend harbored deep resentment.
She lured me hiking, then on the mountain peak, she stabbed me 18 times before pushing me off a cliff.
“This is all your fault for stopping me from marrying into the Thorne family! Everything should have been mine!”
Reborn, I smiled as I sent her off to marry my grandfather.
What she didn’t know was that in the past decade, my grandfather had married eight other brides.
She was the ninth, and the previous eight had all met untimely ends.
Since she was so desperate to marry him, I would grant her wish.
“I saw your grandfather at the charity gala yesterday. He even complimented me, saying I reminded him of his first love when he was young.”
Genevieve said, clutching her coffee cup, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
She grabbed my hand, her gaze filled with calculation.
“I want to pursue your grandfather.”
I was utterly stunned.
“Are you insane? He’s forty years older than you!”
“Age is just a number! Besides, he doesn’t look a day over forty, not even close to his sixties.”
In my last life, this was where I stopped her, sternly warning her to stay away from my grandfather.
She’d flashed a twisted smile.
“Cassidy Thorne, who do you think you are? Why are you blocking my path?”
Later, my grandfather married someone around our age, and they had a grand wedding.
Full of hatred, Genevieve pushed me off a cliff.
“This is all your fault for stopping me from marrying into the Thorne family! Everything should have been mine!”
But now, I just watched her, silently observing the undisguised greed in her eyes.
My grandfather, Sterling Thorne, was the patriarch of Thorne Enterprises, worth billions.
“You don’t object?”
Genevieve seemed surprised by my silence.
I picked up my coffee, a meaningful smile playing on my lips.
“Why would I object?”
“Everyone has the right to pursue happiness, and love shouldn’t be limited by age, right?”
Her eyes lit up; she clearly hadn’t expected it to go so smoothly.
Genevieve excitedly hugged me.
“That’s great! I knew you’d understand me!”
“Don’t worry, once I become your grandmother, I won’t treat you unfairly!”
Where she couldn’t see, my smile completely vanished.
I softly murmured,
“I wish you success.”
Grandfather had already married eight other women in the past ten years, and she was about to become the ninth.
Only, she didn’t know that all eight previous brides had met untimely ends.
As I stepped out of the coffee shop, I stood by the curb, waiting for my driver.
A black Mercedes-Benz pulled up slowly in front of me.
The window rolled down, revealing Mr. Jenkins, the butler.
“Miss Cassidy, Mr. Thorne requests your presence for dinner tonight.”
“Alright.”
I opened the car door and slid inside.
“Mr. Jenkins,” I suddenly said,
“How has Grandfather’s health been lately?”
The old butler glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
“Mr. Thorne is in excellent health. Last week’s check-up showed all his vital signs were twenty years younger than his actual age.”
My fists clenched. In my last life, I had never doubted my grandfather.
Now, looking back, many things seemed highly suspicious.
The most unsettling part was that whenever a bride died, Grandfather was always away on a business trip, with a perfect alibi.
He always seemed strangely indifferent after their deaths.
During dinner, I observed Grandfather.
He did indeed look much younger than his actual age.
“I heard you met the Miller girl today?”
My body tensed. How did Grandfather know? Unless he had been monitoring me, or Genevieve.
“Yes, Genevieve, she’s my best friend.”
A slight smile played on Grandfather’s lips.
“She’s a very vibrant girl. My birthday celebration is in two days. You can invite her to come over tomorrow and stay until the party ends.”
In my last life, I had tried everything to keep Genevieve away from Grandfather, so she never received a formal invitation from the Thorne family.
“Of course,” I replied sweetly.
After dinner, Grandfather always took a stroll in the garden.
I used this opportunity to find the secret compartment in his study.
My mother had told me about it before she died, but I had never opened it.
Behind a copy of the Bible on the third shelf, there was a hidden button.
Pressing it revealed a small secret room.
On a desk inside the room lay a notebook and a safe.
My hands trembling, I opened the notebook. What I saw almost made me scream.
It was a list, neatly recording eight names, along with their wedding and death dates.
Each name had a photo attached, and to my horror, I noticed that these women shared certain similarities.
The shape of their eyes, the curve of their lips, especially the last three—they were almost like replicas of the same type.
On the last page was the ninth name: Genevieve.
A red question mark was drawn next to it, and the date column was blank.
My gaze was drawn to the safe.
My gut told me it held an even more terrifying secret.
But the safe required both a fingerprint and a password, so I couldn’t open it.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching the door.
I hastily closed the notebook and ducked behind the curtains.
The study door opened, and Grandfather and the butler walked in.
“The ninth one should be the most suitable,” Grandfather’s voice was low and calm. “Her birth attributes match perfectly.”
“We’ll finally have all nine. Bring that Genevieve to me tomorrow.”
“Yes, Mr. Thorne.”
After they left, I collapsed onto the floor, my back drenched in cold sweat.
Grandfather knew Genevieve, and it seemed he was actively planning something.
Even more terrifying, he appeared to be performing some kind of… ritual that required nine brides?
The next day, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Genevieve.
“Cassidy! Amazing news! I received a formal invitation from the Thorne family! Can I come over to your place today?”
I stared at the screen, a cold smile slowly spreading across my face.
“Of course, you’re more than welcome.”
Genevieve spent two days at Thorne Manor, and I did my best to create opportunities for her and Grandfather to be alone.
On the day of the birthday celebration, all the prominent figures in the city were present.
I stood in a corner, watching with detached eyes as Genevieve clung to Grandfather’s arm, smiling flirtatiously.
Things were progressing quickly between them. It seemed both were quite eager.
“Ladies and gentlemen,”
Grandfather, Sterling Thorne, stood on the grand staircase, gently patting Genevieve’s hand. His voice was steady and authoritative.
“Thank you all for coming to my birthday celebration. Today, I have some joyous news to announce.”
The entire hall fell silent, all eyes fixed on them.
“Genevieve and I have found a deep connection and decided to get married.”
“The wedding will be in three days, and everyone is welcome to attend our ceremony.”
Though I had anticipated it, hearing the words aloud made my heart involuntarily tremble.
The guests were briefly stunned, then erupted into a chorus of insincere congratulations.
After all, a sixty-year-old business magnate marrying a woman in her twenties wasn’t uncommon in high society.
As long as there was enough money, age was never an issue.
Genevieve wore a triumphant smile, her gaze sweeping through the crowd before finally landing on me.
Was she flaunting it?
I calmly took a sip of champagne, a slight smile on my lips, and even walked forward.
I spoke softly,
“Congratulations, Grandfather. Congratulations, Genevieve.”
Grandfather nodded in satisfaction, while Genevieve narrowed her eyes slightly, seemingly surprised by my composure.
And so, she eagerly bared her claws.
“Oh, by the way, Cassidy.”
She feigned intimacy, taking my hand, but her voice was deliberately loud enough for everyone around to hear.
“Since I’m now the future mistress of Thorne Manor, there are some things I need to handle for you.”
“Oh? What things?”
She stared at me, enunciating each word.
“Your engagement with young Master Miller? It’s time to call it off.”
The Millers—long-standing family friends of the Thornes.
Declan Miller, the only son of the Miller family, and I had been engaged since childhood.
Though it was an arranged marriage, Declan had always treated me incredibly well.
And now, Genevieve wanted to force me to break off the engagement?
Before I could speak, Grandfather actually nodded.
“Genevieve is right. The Millers’ business has been struggling lately, not fitting our family’s standing. Cassidy, this engagement? It’s over.”
My breath hitched. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Declan standing nearby, his wine glass almost shattering in his hand.
“Grandfather,” I heard my voice tremble,
“My engagement with Declan was arranged by our ancestors…”
“That was all in the past.” Grandfather waved a dismissive hand, and an attendant immediately offered him a cigar. He took a deep puff.
“What’s the Miller family’s situation now? Do they even deserve to be associated with us?”
Whispers started to spread through the banquet hall.
I saw Declan’s face turn ashen, while Genevieve smirked at me triumphantly.
“Grandfather!” I dropped to my knees before him.
“Please reconsider. While the Miller family might be struggling now, Declan—”
*Smash!*
Genevieve suddenly threw her hand up, knocking over a tray of red wine a server was carrying.
The red wine poured down over my head.
Guests exchanged glances, some snickering softly, others looking on with pity.
“Oops, my hand slipped.”
She feigned surprise, covering her mouth, but then leaned down and whispered in my ear, in a voice only I could hear.
“You think begging on your knees will work? Let me tell you, after tonight, you won’t even have the right to kneel.”
I looked up at her, astonished.
“Enough!” Grandfather pulled his hand away from me.
“This matter is settled!”
Declan crushed his wine glass, glaring intensely at Genevieve.
As I went upstairs to change, I saw Declan and Genevieve embracing in the hallway corner.
“Genevieve, how was my acting? She even knelt for me.”
“Constantly parading around as your fiancée, it’s irritating.”
My heart ached. I hadn’t realized they were already involved.
My judgment of people was truly terrible.
“You disgusting cheats!” I swore.
Declan chuckled softly.
“Watching you beg like a fool, thinking we’d actually get married.”
Genevieve giggled, leaning into his arms.
“Your man has been mine for ages.”
They were both sickening.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell Grandfather?”
“Go ahead!” Genevieve taunted, unafraid.
“See who he believes—you, or me.”
“Once the old man dies, everything at Thorne Manor will be ours.” Declan fantasized, his arm around her waist.
“I thought we were best friends.”
Genevieve sneered.
“Hmph, friends. Don’t play innocent. In your eyes, I was just a dog. You’d throw me scraps when you pitied me. I’m sick of it!”
“Now I’m above you, and you’ll dance to my tune!”
I remembered how, back in college, Genevieve couldn’t afford tuition, so I paid for it.
When she ran out of living expenses, I shared everything I had.
Later, when her mother fell critically ill, I immediately arranged for her to be admitted to the best hospital.
And in her eyes, all that was just pity? I should have let her starve!
I was so angry, I laughed.
“Then consider everything I ever did for you wasted.”
I wasn’t in a hurry, because soon enough, they would both get what they deserved.
After the birthday celebration, Genevieve officially moved into Thorne Manor as the future Mrs. Thorne.
The first thing she did was take my room.
“Cassidy, this room has the best light, it’s perfect for me,” she said, leaning against the doorframe.
“You’ll be moving out soon anyway, why not get used to it beforehand?”
I stood in the hallway, calmly looking at her.
“If you like it, it’s yours.”
She narrowed her eyes, seemingly displeased by my compliance, then sneered.
“Oh, by the way, Sterling said your allowance will be handled by me from now on. After all, you’re not a child anymore, you should learn to be frugal.”
She pulled a card from her designer purse and handed it to me.
“Five thousand a month. Enough?”
Five thousand. It wasn’t even enough for a single bracelet I used to buy on a whim.
I reached out and took the card, offering a small smile.
“Thank you, Grandma.”
Her expression froze for a moment, clearly stung by the address, but she quickly reverted to her arrogant demeanor.
“Such a good girl.”
I turned and went to the guest room.
But the next day, Genevieve dragged me to her walk-in closet.
“Cassidy, look, isn’t my wedding dress beautiful?”
She unfurled a pure white wedding gown, its skirt adorned with countless tiny diamonds, shimmering brilliantly under the light.
I nodded.
“It’s very pretty.”
She suddenly sighed, feigning regret.
“Actually, I originally wanted to choose your mother’s antique wedding gown from back then, but Sterling said it was bad luck.”
My blood instantly ran cold.
How dare she mention my mother?!
In my last life, my mother had died in Thorne Manor, her cause of death a mystery.
And her wedding gown had been sealed in the Thorne family vault, a place even I couldn’t easily access.
Genevieve tilted her head, enjoying my instantly pale face.
“But it’s fine, my wedding dress is much more expensive than your mother’s, wouldn’t you say?”
I dug my nails into my palms, barely managing to maintain a calm expression.
“Yes,” I said softly.
“I hope you get to live many days wearing it.”
She paused, then burst into laughter.
“Cassidy Thorne, you’re not actually thinking about revenge, are you?”
She leaned closer to me.
“Don’t forget, now the entire Thorne family is mine.”
On the wedding day, Thorne Manor was decorated with extravagant luxury.
The wedding march began, and Genevieve, arm in arm with Grandfather, slowly walked towards the officiant.
Guests applauded their congratulations, while I stood in a corner, quietly watching it all unfold.
When the officiant opened his book and solemnly asked if they were willing, Grandfather slowly looked up.
His eyes, however, weren’t their usual gentle self; instead, they held a peculiar coldness. “I do.”
When it was time to exchange rings, Mr. Jenkins, the butler, stepped forward, holding a delicate velvet box.
Inside lay two rings, each set with a blood-red gemstone.
They placed them on each other’s fingers, completing the ceremony.
I saw Grandfather slowly exhale a long breath.
The next day, the butler frantically sought me out.
“Bad news, Mrs. Thorne… something’s happened.”
“Mr. Thorne left on a business trip abroad last night…”
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When I received the alumni reunion invitation, I was pretty confused. They said the reunion was only for prominent figures across various industries.
But I’m just a working-class gal who’d been to jail; I hardly qualify, right?
After much deliberation, I still put on a white shirt paired with dark green dress pants and arrived at the venue, looking as neat as I could.
The moment I stepped into the hall, the opulent luxury of the place hit me. Even the air smelled of money.
A wave of regret washed over me. I definitely shouldn’t have come.
But then I remembered I’d soon see the person I’d longed for, and all my anxiety morphed into pure yearning.
I looked up, and there he was—Julian Thorne, wearing his glasses.
His tailored suit made him look even more composed, the boyish innocence of a few years ago replaced by a sophisticated maturity. He radiated the polished confidence of a highly successful executive.
My heart pounded instantly, a bitter ache, sharp and familiar, spread from the core of my being.
It took me a long moment to force my gaze away.
I stood there, torn and nervous, wanting to approach him but too afraid. I only dared to steal glances now and then.
The next second, a classmate nearby yanked me over:
“Look who it is! Isn’t this Vivian Hayes, our high school queen bee? Where have you been all these years? You just vanished!”
“We asked everyone, but no one knew which college you ended up at…”
“Or did you just settle down and become a full-time homemaker?”
My classmates barraged me with questions, but I couldn’t utter a word.
The crowd around us turned, their gazes sharpened, dissecting me as if I were a public spectacle.
My faded shirt, those threadbare slacks, the scuffed, peeling shoes.
Over the years, I’d learned to accept this scorn and disdain.
The only thing I couldn’t bear was Julian’s gaze, sharp as an icicle, cutting through me, as if he wanted to pierce my very soul.
A slight curve of his lips, a blatant sneer.
“Seriously, Harvard is a prestigious university. How did a tramp like her get in?”
“Did you get that from a thrift store? Don’t you worry about sullying the floor with your presence?”
“Everyone invited to this alumni event is famous. Your invitation couldn’t have been stolen, could it?”
Serena Vance, standing next to Julian, sounded like she wanted to rip into me.
We used to be in the same class, ignoring me would have been bad enough.
I didn’t understand why Serena was so hell-bent on tearing me apart like a rabid dog.
As I stood there stunned, Julian scoffed.
“I’m here today to see old classmates. Unrelated people shouldn’t try to crash the party. After all, I don’t want to catch whatever bad luck she’s carrying.”
As he spoke, he cautiously took a few steps back, as if a mere glance from me could infect him with some disease.
Our former classmates looked on, bewildered.
They couldn’t understand why two people who used to be inseparable had suddenly become so distant and repulsed by each other.
Back then, they were known as the school’s golden couple.
I lowered my eyes, silent for a long time.
My hands were clenched tightly behind my back, and my ears filled with murmurs and whispers:
“If I were Julian, I’d choose Serena too. A wealthy heiress, and a girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Even an idiot would know who to pick.”
“She used to be the high school beauty queen, but look at her now, she’s living like dirt. Her shoes are practically falling apart.”
“If I were her, I’d become a sugar baby for some rich guy. With a face like that, she could easily rake in a fortune… It might not be pretty, but it’s fast cash.”
“That was then! Now she’s got a record, involved in a death. Who’d want her now?” The buzz around me grew to a roar.
Suddenly, it felt like I was stripped naked, utterly exposed to everyone’s judgmental stares.
Their words, like venomous spit, poured into my ears, filled with the coldness and contempt I should have been accustomed to.
My face paled. Just as I was about to turn and leave, someone grabbed my arm.
I turned my head. Serena Vance stood before me, holding a glass of wine, smiling triumphantly.
“Tsk, tsk! How pathetic! You’re like a cockroach now, so wretched even *I* pity you.”
“Stop pretending. Your goal has been achieved,” I said, lifting my eyelids.
“Why are you still here? Are you a masochist?” Serena gloated.
Then, as if struck by an idea, she raised an eyebrow and sneered,
“Could it be you’re trying to play the victim card, hoping Julian will pity you? Dream on! He’s mine now!”
She took a step forward in her heels, leaning in with a malicious grin:
“Ha! He always helped you before. This time, who do you think he’ll help?”
**Chapter 2**
With that, she dramatically slapped her thigh, let out a piercing shriek, then clutched her face and recoiled, acting as if she’d just been slapped across the face.
Even with my extensive experience in prison, where I’d seen all sorts of conniving people,
I couldn’t help but acknowledge Serena Vance’s stellar performance.
Before I could say anything, Julian rushed over, his cool gaze instantly melted into a look of panicked concern.
His eyes trembling, he softened his voice, “Serena, who hit you? Are you hurt?”
Serena didn’t speak, but her eyes brimmed with tears, and she shot me an accusatory glance.
Following her line of sight, Julian’s expression hardened, and his voice turned to ice: “Vivian, what the hell are you doing?”
“Don’t think I’ll look at you twice just because you pull stunts like this.”
“I must have been blind back then. Now, you’re not even fit to clean my shoes!”
“I’m warning you! Get one step closer to Serena, and you’ll regret it!”
People truly are fickle. One moment he was full of concern for Serena, the next he was glaring at me with fury.
But I hadn’t done a thing.
If he just looked closely, he’d see her face was perfectly pale, with no redness or slap marks.
But he didn’t. Without a word, he’d already convicted me.
I habitually picked at my cuticles, a small comfort to ease the gnawing ache in my chest.
Six years ago, Julian’s trust was mine.
Six years later, his trust was given to someone else.
I smiled silently and nodded faintly.
My submissiveness seemed to catch Julian off guard. A few seconds later, a flicker of realization crossed his face, and his brows furrowed even deeper.
“Don’t think I’ll believe you if you put on that act.”
“You’re a master of manipulation, sweet on the surface but vicious underneath. You can fool others, but not me. If you dare harm her again, I’ll break your hand.”
The surrounding sounds seemed to fade away, leaving only his cruel, heartless words, mixed with the onlookers’ gloating expressions. It felt like a whip lash across my face, leaving a hot, searing pain.
Before, if I even grazed my knee on a bike, he’d scold me for half an hour.
Now, over a baseless accusation, he threatened to break my hand.
It seemed six years could truly change everything.
I wasn’t a golden girl anymore.
And he had finally become the man he always wanted to be.
Serena Vance was utterly delighted by Julian’s reaction. Still clutching her face and whimpering in pain, she continued to provoke me with her eyes.
When I first got out of prison, I thought nothing could ever hurt me again.
Today, I realized how wrong I was.
The only person who could hurt me was the man standing right in front of me.
The one I had thought of for six years, day and night, whose face I traced in my mind whenever I couldn’t sleep, whose college notes I reread until the edges of the pages were tattered and worn from constant touch.
I had imagined many ways we might reunite, but never this.
I met his gaze directly, a faint smile on my lips.
“Message received, Mr. Thorne. Don’t worry, as long as your dog doesn’t bite, no one’s foolish enough to go looking for trouble.”
“What do you mean? Are you calling me a dog?!”
Serena screamed, enraged, dropping her hand from her face in her haste.
“I didn’t say it was you, but I can’t stop you from volunteering! Some people, even in human skin, aren’t necessarily human.”
“You—”
“Enough!”
Serena was about to retort further when Julian cut her off with a sharp word. He sighed, a soft, indulgent sound.
“Alright, Serena. Let’s not waste our time here. The principal is looking for me… I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
His deliberately lowered tone and a gaze heavy with unspoken desire made Serena’s face flush. She melted into his arms, leaning against him.
They walked past me, arms around each other, heading towards the principal’s office.
Some familiar classmates approached to greet me. I smiled and responded as usual, but as I turned away, the smile slowly faded from my face.
Just then, my best friend Chloe Miller called. The moment I answered, her excited voice filled my ear:
“Did you see Julian? Did you explain everything to him face-to-face?”
“Don’t overthink it. Given how much he cared about you before, I’m sure once the misunderstanding is cleared up, you two will get back together…”
Outside, the daylight was blindingly bright.
I shielded my eyes, feeling a pang of nausea. I didn’t know how to tell Chloe.
“Vivian, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“Listen to me, go find him and tell him everything. Whatever the outcome, we can’t have regrets…”
My steps faltered. This was precisely why I had come, despite knowing the invitation was suspicious.
But now, was there even a point in finding him?
I wasn’t sure, but my feet seemed to have a mind of their own, guiding me directly towards the office.
**Chapter 3**
As I approached, I lightened my steps. The principal’s booming voice carried through the door:
“Julian, the next time we meet, it’ll be for your wedding to Serena. I hear you’re throwing a wedding of the century for me. The alumni network is buzzing about it! I wish you a long and happy marriage, and a beautiful family!”
“Whatever makes Serena happy is fine. Principal, you absolutely must come and have a drink at the wedding!”
“Principal, you really have to be there!”
Julian’s voice was as calm as ever, but Serena’s was filled with the sweetness of a new bride.
Hearing this, I felt that the misunderstanding from six years ago no longer mattered.
The cicadas outside chirped incessantly, making my head spin. I had to lean against the corridor wall to walk steadily.
As I walked, something dropped from my face.
One after another, splashing into the air.
I reached up and wiped them away, realizing my hands were wet with tears.
I had never intended to start a young romance in high school.
Just staying alive had consumed all my energy, but then I met Julian.
For three years, as my deskmate, he brought a ray of light into my dark world with his meticulous care.
I was surprised, I was scared.
Afraid that happiness would be too fleeting.
Until that blood-red summer after the college entrance exams, when the beautiful dream was shattered by reality.
My drunken stepfather attempted to assault me. In the struggle, my mother was knocked out cold.
Julian, who arrived just then, accidentally plunged a knife into my stepfather’s body.
He tried his best to hide his panic then:
“Vivian, my family has connections abroad. We can leave, and no one will find us. My mom can make this disappear…”
My eyes were full of tears. I looked at the boy’s thin but resilient back, filled with despair.
I softly soothed him, “Okay! Okay! I promise. We’ll go!”
After a long moment, I forced myself to compose and calmly instructed him:
“Julian, go quickly and get your passport, pack your bags, book your flight. We’ll meet at the airport later.”
Julian, unsuspecting, turned and left.
Behind his back, where he couldn’t see me, I called Eleanor Thorne: “Mrs. Thorne, you’re right. Julian and I aren’t suited for each other…”
Later, Julian waited at the airport until nightfall, but I never showed up.
Only a few words from me: “Julian, I don’t want to go abroad and live a hard life with you. You go on your own.”
Just as he was about to turn back and look for me, his family forced him onto the plane.
That same night, I was sent to prison.
Dazed, I walked out of the school gates, only for the nursing home to call: “Ms. Hayes, your mother’s medical bill for this month is due. It’s already five days late…”
“Okay! I’ll pay it as soon as possible. Please give me a few more days…”
I said such pleading words almost every month, and the nurses at the facility were practically numb to them.
The money Eleanor Thorne had initially given had all gone to the medical facility during my time in prison.
My mother’s body was kept alive daily by expensive medications. No matter the cost, I never considered giving up.
I had lost everything.
I couldn’t lose my mother too.
Two years ago, after I was released from prison, it was hard to find work because I had a criminal record and no college education.
I could only work as a guesthouse manager and take on a few odd jobs, but even that was barely enough.
I gave a self-deprecating laugh.
I wasn’t sure if I was mocking my own uselessness or the hopes I’d harbored before coming here.
My gaze swept over a large billboard by the road, and I stopped, staring at it for a long time.
A moment later, I pushed down all my internal struggles and dialed the number displayed on the poster.
That night, I started working as a waitress at this nightclub, relying on my decent looks.
Half an hour later, seeing Julian Thorne and his group in their suits, a wave of regret washed over me again.
Anyone else could look down on me.
But I never wanted him to.
Perhaps it was a final hurrah before the wedding, but Serena Vance was dressed provocatively, sitting directly on Julian’s lap, her slender fingers tracing circles on his chest.
The bar lights were dim, obscuring their expressions.
Whether it was the air conditioning being too warm or something else, Julian uncomfortably loosened his tie, his other hand pressed firmly against Serena’s waist.
Even from a distance, I could hear Serena kissing his neck, her voice cooing childishly:
“Only two days until we get married. How do you want to play tonight?”
Julian didn’t reply immediately. He seemed to notice he was being watched, and coldly glared at the bar.
I glanced over, then quickly lowered my head. But my hand slipped, and a glass clattered, shattering into pieces.
The next second, Serena, with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, walked up to me, still wearing that haughty expression.
“Just today, a classmate suggested you become a streetwalker, and here you are already?
“So eager you couldn’t even wait one night?”
**Chapter 4**
At that moment, the few people behind me also gathered around, casually asking:
“Serena, who is this person? Do you know her?”
Serena glanced at Julian. Seeing his face was unchanged, she replied with a cold laugh:
“Know her? Of course I do! This, everyone, is our Julian’s high school sweetheart!”
“You’re all insiders, so you might as well get acquainted!”
Everyone burst into laughter, one after another.
I ignored them, my eyes downcast as I squatted, picking up glass shards from the floor.
“I’m talking to you, why aren’t you speaking?”
Serena didn’t like being ignored, especially by *me*. In a fit of anger, she suddenly pushed me.
Half-squatting, I was knocked backward by the force, my palms landing directly on the shattered glass.
“Ah—”
Sharp pain pierced through me, and I couldn’t help but cry out. Bright red blood dripped onto the floor.
Julian’s eyes narrowed slightly, a strange glint flashing across them before settling back into an unreadable coldness.
The bar was noisy, but the mocking and ridiculing voices still pierced my ears, every single word.
“She’s so impatient because she’s desperate for money, right? Why don’t you be generous, Serena, and give her a little something?”
“Then people will say you’re a kind and generous fiancée!”
At that, everyone laughed even harder, doubling over.
Streams of contemptuous glances, mixed with the dim light, pricked me like needles.
Serena didn’t respond, but the triumphant smirk on her lips was impossible to hide.
Julian tilted his head, as if something had just occurred to him, and suddenly spoke:
“You said you didn’t want to go abroad and suffer with me. Was it all just to live ‘the good life’ here?”
His voice grew heavy on the last three words, specifically emphasizing “the good life.”
Before I could respond, Julian added,
“This life might not be ‘good,’ but it certainly suits you. After all, your mom used to wait tables in a bar too…”
The bar instantly fell silent, only to resume its clamor moments later.
“No wonder she’s so pathetic; like mother, like daughter…”
“How could Julian have ever fallen for a woman like that? She must have burned eight lifetimes of incense for that luck.”
“But this slut didn’t cherish it and dumped Julian. Now she’s like this, serves her right!”
The words “pathetic,” “slut,” and “whore” echoed endlessly in my ears, but my world seemed to have muted, I only heard Julian’s last remark.
I lifted my eyes in disbelief, my gaunt face dominated by wide eyes, with a clear redness under my lower lids.
At this point, I couldn’t tell if my trembling was from his words or the pain in my palms.
Six years ago, he was the boy who carried me through a downpour for thirty minutes, crying and begging me not to die from a high fever.
Six years later, he stood with his fiancée, stripping me of my dignity, leaving me exposed and raw for their humiliation.
In a daze, icy liquid mixed with ice cubes rained down on me.
Cup after cup, red as blood, splashed onto me, turning into flying glass shards.
The metallic smell of blood mixed with the rich aroma of alcohol, like a net, suffocating me.
Pain spread through my heart. I gasped for breath, my chest heaving rapidly, as if I was back in prison, being bullied for the first time.
The difference was, back then, others hurt me, but I still had my guiding light.
Now, that guiding light was the one hurting me, fading away in my heart.
I remained silent, my pale lips bitten raw.
I slowly stood up, leaning on the bar.
A flicker of grim satisfaction crossed Julian’s eyes, and his lips curved upwards.
“You used to be so talkative. Why are you quiet now?”
“Because…”
I looked directly at him. “My time is precious, and if you want to talk to me, it’s going to cost you extra.”
Serena scoffed, and a chorus of derisive whistles erupted around us.
Julian’s eyes darkened, and he nodded slowly.
“Alright! If you kneel and clean everyone’s shoes, I’ll give you a million dollars.”
**Chapter 5**
With that, he flung his arm, and a black card slapped against my face, a sharp sting spreading across my skin.
But compared to the pain in my heart, it was nothing.
“Come on. I keep my word. Clean the shoes, and a million is yours!”
His face glowed with a triumphant, malicious smile, a stark contrast to my trembling paleness.
I wanted to ask, *Julian, do you hate me that much?*
But my gaze fell on the blood-stained black card, and then I thought of the crushing weight of those medical bills for my mother. The words caught in my throat.
Let it be.
As long as he was happy.
Everyone in that section of the bar had fallen silent, craning their necks, eager to watch the show.
“Mr. Thorne, then you’ll need to sign a written agreement stating that the money on this card is mine, and you won’t reclaim it by any means later.”
My voice was flat, devoid of emotion.
Julian’s anger turned to a smile, but it was a cold, bitter one, his eyes filled with icy fury.
After a long moment, he gritted his teeth, squeezing out a word: “Fine!”
With that, I limped over to him and knelt directly.
I picked up a dry cloth and began to clean his shoes. In the extraordinary silence, the sound of blood dripping seemed amplified.
Drip by drip, it splattered on the floor, each drop blossoming like a tiny, crimson flower.
It was as if I’d forgotten the wound on my hand, forgotten the pain. I just mechanically repeated the motion of cleaning shoes.
Everyone lined up. I didn’t even need to stand; I just stayed on my knees and moved my hands.
One after another, the bright red blood gradually turned a dark purple.
Everyone’s faces were plastered with mocking smiles, but Julian’s face was a thundercloud, dark and unreadable.
Another person stepped forward. Just as I was about to bend down again, he couldn’t help but stop me.
“Stop cleaning! The money on the card is yours!”
I acted as if I hadn’t heard him, my face blank, ignoring him.
Julian suddenly exploded, his eyes turning bloodshot with rage: “I said! Stop cleaning! Are you deaf?!”
Looking at his face, contorted with shock and anger, I felt a strange confusion. He was the one who forced me to my knees.
Why was he unhappy now?
I suddenly smiled and replied, “I have to clean them! I need the money.”
The man furiously threw me to the ground, and he bellowed, his eyes blazing with fury: “Money! Money! Is that all you care about?!”
My body felt like it was falling apart, my knees scraped and bleeding.
I mocked myself silently, thinking that this money truly wasn’t easy to earn. Still, I slowly picked myself up.
Just as I was about to kneel again, Julian looked like a man possessed, his facial muscles twitching as he let out a primal roar:
“Get out! Take the card! Get out of here!”
I shakily got up, glanced at the distraught man, and carefully tucked the blood-stained black card into my pocket.
Before I passed out, I saw Chloe’s anxious, tear-streaked face.
When I next awoke, I was in a hospital. The wounds on my knees and palms had been properly treated.
Chloe, her eyes swollen and red, sat beside me, arranging the bedsheets.
Seeing me open my eyes, her first reaction was delight, but then her pretty face clouded over: “Vivian, if you needed money, you could have told me. How could you…”
“They were so cruel…” Before she could finish, Chloe’s voice caught in her throat, and her shoulders began to tremble with suppressed sobs.
My lips moved slightly, and I sighed inwardly.
I knew my mother’s nursing home expenses would be a bottomless pit. My life was already hopeless, but I couldn’t drag down my only friend.
Chloe had already helped me enough.
I raised my bandaged hand and wiped away her tears, forcing a weak smile: “Chloe, I’m okay…”
“Look, I have Mom’s medical fees for the next two years now. The nursing home won’t rush us anymore…”
“There’s even a little left over, enough for a beautiful wedding dress for you…”
As I spoke the last words, my pale lips slowly fell silent, and my eyes held a shattered look.
Seeing me bruised and wounded, trying to smile through my tears, Chloe felt even more heartbroken, but she dared not cry openly in front of me.
She pretended something was in her eye, turned away, and silently wiped her tears.
I didn’t expose her, just waited quietly. After a moment, Chloe composed herself and turned back.
“Chloe, could you do me a favor and go to the nursing home? The nurses there must be getting impatient.”
I handed her the black card.
Chloe didn’t take the card immediately. Instead, she asked, “You didn’t tell Julian, did you?”
I gave a bitter smile.
“At this point, it doesn’t matter whether I tell him or not. Chloe, he and I are truly over…”
“Why! If you just tell him! He’ll understand! He’ll love you again!”
Chloe’s eyes reddened with urgency, and her knuckles turned white from clenching her hands.
“But I don’t want him to.”
I slowly turned my head, a fire burning in my eyes. Even though my voice was dry and hoarse, my tone was resolute.
“I don’t want his guilt, I don’t want his compensation, and I certainly don’t want his pity.”
“Everything between us ended last night.”
**Chapter 6**
“But…” Chloe started to say more.
But I cut her off, “Chloe, I’m hungry… I really want some of your soup. Please, feed me.”
My pale, weak, and pitiful expression tugged at Chloe’s heartstrings. She immediately called the supermarket to buy ingredients.
As Chloe’s figure gradually disappeared, the smile on my face slowly faded.
A moment later, a nurse instructed me to go upstairs to pick up my test results. I had barely taken two steps when I heard a familiar male voice from a room:
“Serena, are you feeling better? If this hospital isn’t good enough, I’ll take you somewhere else.”
Julian tenderly held her close, his stubbled chin constantly caressing her cheek. His face wore an expression of indulgence that was both familiar and strange to me.
Familiar because he had shown me such tenderness six years ago.
Strange because I had never felt such deep, possessive affection from him.
Even though I had made my decision, even though I had said I would give up, seeing this scene twisted my heart. My entire body throbbed with pain. I slowly placed a hand over my chest, biting my lip tightly.
“Julian, did we play too hard last night? It’s all my fault for being mischievous. I’ll apologize to her later, okay?”
Serena said this, but her eyes were fixed on Julian, taking in every nuance of his expression.
Julian frowned, somewhat puzzled: “Why would you apologize? She deserved it!”
“Besides, I already gave her the money.”
“That million dollars, she wouldn’t earn it even if she let countless men touch her!”
The corridor was noisy, filled with footsteps, but the man’s voice cut through everything, reaching my ears. Every casual tone was perfectly clear.
Tears welled in my eyes, and finally, unable to hold them back, they streamed down my face.
The hand I had clutched to my chest moved to cover my mouth, the veins on its back bulging, an uncontrollable tremor visible.
This answer seemed to please Serena Vance.
She gave a loud smack, kissing Julian on the corner of his lips. Soon after, the woman’s low moans of “More, more” and the man’s heavy breathing filled the hospital room.
Vivian Hayes closed her eyes, stumbling away from the wall.
That afternoon, when the doctor said there were no other major issues, I took advantage of Chloe’s trip to the nursing home and discharged myself.
As I walked through the corridor with my luggage, I overheard the nurses at the station discussing:
“That Mr. Thorne is a true knight in shining armor! For Ms. Vance, he not only booked the entire floor but also put billions in business aside to stay by her bedside every day, feeding her fruit and washing her feet!”
“Exactly! What’s even crazier is that Ms. Vance has no serious problems; she just threw up last night…”
“Speaking of which, poor Ms. Hayes on the floor below was brought in covered in wounds, and she had no one with her…”
I gave a bitter laugh. My chest felt clogged with a bitter herb, heavy and suffocating.
Stepping out of the hospital, I looked intently at the floor Julian Thorne had booked.
My eyes flickered with a mix of emotions, finally settling into a soft sigh, and then I decisively turned away.
As soon as I returned to my rented apartment, the smell of lotus root and pork rib soup filled the air. The chill I felt seemed to be suppressed by the sunshine and warmth of the room.
I put down my luggage and quickly heated the soup in the kitchen.
Then, I went to the bedroom and pulled out an old, cloth-covered cardboard box from under the bed. After staring at it for a long time, I finally uncovered it and took out the contents one by one.
The first was a collection of错了题集 (wrongly answered questions) that Julian had personally copied. Back then, my stepfather always caused trouble at home, distracting me, and my test scores suffered. Julian had frantically tutored me.
The second was a thermos lunchbox Julian had given me. School meals were expensive, so I never ate at school, bringing homemade food every day. He specially gave me the lunchbox, hoping I could eat something warm.
The third was a white dress Julian had given me. That summer, he said he wanted to see me in a white dress, but I always had bruises and couldn’t wear it. He thought I was shy and even got angry.
The fourth…
The items were placed into a brazier one by one, turning to ashes under the licking flames, along with the unforgettable past and the agonizing devotion that had tormented me day and night.
When Chloe returned home, she found only ashes on the floor and an empty cardboard box.
As dusk settled, Chloe found me huddled in a corner, my knees drawn to my chest, the cramped room eerily silent.
Chloe pressed her lips together, asking nothing. She just wrapped her arms around me, murmuring, “It’ll be okay.”
**Chapter 7**
With the financial pressure temporarily relieved, I returned to the guesthouse after my wounds healed.
One day, the manager called, saying several VIP guests had booked the entire place, and I needed to quickly get everyone to clean up.
I didn’t dare to delay. After a flurry of activity, the continuous rumble of car engines reached us from outside the guesthouse.
I looked up, and Julian Thorne, with Serena Vance in tow, strode in grandly.
Seeing me, Serena gave a flippant smile:
“Why are you always haunting us? Are you saying you knew Julian was going to propose to me and deliberately followed us?”
Julian didn’t speak, but he tilted his head, scrutinizing me.
I didn’t want to cause any trouble, nor did I want to lose this job that kept me afloat.
I forced myself to speak in a low voice: “Ms. Vance, you’re joking. I’m the manager here. I wish you both a long and happy life together.”
Serena laughed outright at my words.
Julian, on the other hand, looked displeased, his dark eyes unreadable.
“Julian? You were too rough last night, I can barely stand today… No matter what, you have to massage me later…”
Serena’s slender fingers provocatively traced circles on his chest, but her eyes were fixed on me.
Julian scoffed, pulled her tighter, and squeezed her butt hard with his fingers.
He leaned close to my ear, his breath warm: “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely pamper you senseless later…”
Their blatant flirting made a few waitstaff secretly blush, and even the friends accompanying them couldn’t help but tease.
“Julian really knows how to have fun! He and Serena have different tricks every day. I hear he’s all swollen down there…”
“You wouldn’t know it, but young love is platonic. Adult love is pure lust.”
“They’ve broken several beds at home…”
After that, the friend turned to me and specifically instructed:
“Waitstaff, make a note: Mr. Thorne’s reserved room needs a specially reinforced king-size bed!” Seeing my obedient nod, he gave a sarcastic smile and walked away.
A few married waitstaff immediately gathered, whispering: “Mr. Thorne looks so refined, is he really that wild?”
“Who knows? Ms. Vance has a round, perky butt. They must be wild in bed…”
The whispers continued behind me, but I acted as if I didn’t notice.
I just lowered my head and sorted the group’s luggage.
That night, the guesthouse was brightly lit, adorned with fireworks and balloons. Champagne and red wine covered the tables.
Julian, in front of everyone, knelt on one knee, gazing at Serena Vance with deep affection.
“Serena, thank you for overlooking my past and pulling me out of my darkest time. Will you spend the rest of your life growing old with me?”
Serena covered her mouth with both hands, too emotional to speak, only nodding repeatedly.
A chorus of shouts erupted: “Kiss her, kiss her!”
Julian smiled and stood up, ready to take out the wedding ring.
The next second, his smile froze, and his face darkened.
Serena whispered, “Julian, what’s wrong?”
He shook his head, looking frustrated: “The custom-made ring is gone…”
Everyone’s expressions changed, and they quickly bent down to help search. Just then, Serena looked at me with ill intent.
“It’s her, isn’t it?”
“You acted like you didn’t care all day, but you secretly stole our engagement ring?”
I instinctively retorted, “I didn’t! Don’t you dare falsely accuse me!”
“Ridiculous! I’m a wealthy heiress; why would I frame a waitress like you? Search her!”
Seeing the crowd closing in, my face changed.
Images of being humiliated in prison flashed through my mind. I frantically turned, staring desperately at my colleagues.
But they all recoiled, taking a step back, refusing to meet my gaze.
Even the manager piped up, “Vivian, maybe you should just let them search you? It’ll be over faster.”
At that, someone snickered in the crowd.
A huge sense of absurdity welled up. My heart hammered against my ribs, threatening to burst. I struggled violently, a coppery taste of blood filled my mouth, and my vision blurred.
“Stop!” Julian’s voice was low.
Serena’s face subtly changed, a flicker of resentment crossing her features, but she still signaled the others to stop.
A faint flicker of hope sparked in my deadened eyes. Just as I was about to thank him.
Julian had already paced closer, his eyes were dark and unreadable, and then he spoke: “I’ll search her!”
My breath hitched. The light that had just appeared in my eyes instantly dimmed. I took a step back, hissing, “Don’t touch me!”
**Chapter 8**
Then, I raised an eyebrow, my eyes blazing, and looked at Serena Vance: “You search me!”
Julian’s thin lips pressed into a tight line, his eyes churning with fury.
Serena, a malicious smile playing on her lips, slowly walked towards me. Under the guise of searching, she pinched, prodded, and poked me, enjoying every humiliating second.
I bit down hard, enduring it all, but the tremors running through my body and the glistening in my eyes betrayed my fear.
I stood defiantly, refusing to lower my head, my eyes fixed straight ahead.
Time ticked by, and a few people in the crowd began to feel a pang of pity.
After a long while, Serena, having had her fun, finally spoke with a smile:
“The ring must be hidden somewhere. Lock her up for the night, and she’ll confess tomorrow!”
At this, a friend, worried things were going too far, quickly advised:
“Forget it, let’s call the police. She doesn’t look like a thief.”
“What do you know! She’s been to jail; she has a record…” With that, I turned to Julian, feigning composure.
“Julian, what do you say?”
Julian’s face was complex, his eyes flickering with indecision, disappointment, and contempt. Finally, all his emotions coalesced into a sigh:
“Since she could steal once, she could steal again. Lock her up for now.”
“You have no right to—”
Before I could finish, someone clamped a hand over my mouth and dragged me, shoving me roughly into a dark storage room. Before they left, they deliberately smashed the light bulb.
“Let me out! I’m not a thief!” The door slammed shut, and the last thing I saw was Julian’s cold, contemptuous face.
I pounded on the door with both hands, my knuckles bleeding from splinters, but I felt nothing.
Julian’s emotionless voice came from outside the door: “Whenever you admit it, that’s when we’ll let you out.”
The footsteps gradually faded. I heard my colleagues whispering:
“Manager, is it true Vivian’s been to jail? I can’t believe she’s a thief…”
“Whether she’s a thief or not is uncertain, but it’s true she’s been to jail…”
I fumbled my way to a corner and slowly leaned against the wall. The tears I had held back for so long began to fall in the darkness, one by one, seeping into the cracks.
My heart felt like it was ablaze, a furious inferno consuming every fiber of my being.
I was in agony, I was in despair, but I couldn’t utter a single word.
My mother’s words echoed repeatedly in my mind: “Vivian, this is our fate…”
I shook my head violently, muttering incoherently, “No! I won’t accept my fate! I won’t…”
For a long time, the room was filled with muffled sobs, like a dying animal’s last, desperate cry.
I don’t know how much time passed, but my phone suddenly vibrated, waking me from a daze.
I glanced at the number and instantly sobered up. When I answered, the nurse’s voice came through:
“Ms. Hayes, your mother is in good spirits today and wants to video call with you.”
Since my mother suffered a head injury from my stepfather that night, she had been mostly confused and rarely lucid. Hearing this, I immediately agreed, “Yes! Yes!”
Then, I quickly got up and pounded on the door, shouting loudly, “Let me out! Let me out!”
The only response was the bone-chilling cold air.
When the video call came, I quickly turned on my phone’s flashlight and answered.
Through the screen, my mother’s thin face appeared: “Child, why is it so dark where you are? My eyes aren’t good; I can’t see you.”
I forced a smile, enduring the lump in my throat, and said, “Mom, the power’s out here, but it’s okay. I’m doing fine…”
“Good! As long as you’re doing well, you’re my biggest worry…”
“I’m really fine. I even got a bonus this month…”
We talked through the screen, one pretending to comfort, the other pretending to be cheerful.
After a long while, after hanging up, the smile slowly faded from my face.
The next day, just as I was about to use my last 1% battery to call the police, Chloe’s call came in. The moment I answered, her heartbroken sobs filled my ear:
“Vivian! Auntie’s gone…!”
“Gone?! What do you mean?” I shrieked back.
“She jumped off the building!”
**Chapter 9**
The next second, my phone died and slid from my palm, crashing to the floor.
In that instant, my only support shattered.
I felt like I’d lost my soul, collapsing to the ground, utterly drained.
Remembering my mother’s thin, pale face, I forced my body to move, kicking and pounding on the door.
“Let me out! Please!”
I knelt on the floor, turning my fingers into claws, scratching desperately, my voice filled with pleading and despair.
But outside the door, there was no movement, no sign of it opening.
Large, hot tears rolled down my gaunt face, falling into my pale lips. I cried hysterically.
“Ah—”
“Open the door!”
“Open the door now!”
Just then, Serena Vance’s mocking voice came from outside:
“Want to get out? Fine! Tell the truth, did you steal the ring?”
“Just say it, and I’ll let you go!”
My body froze. After a few seconds, I suppressed the surging blood in my body, gritted my teeth, and said each word distinctly:
“I stole the ring. I stole it! Alright, I’ll admit to whatever you say! Please… let me out!”
At that, a thunderous mocking laugh erupted from outside the door.
“Since you’ve admitted to being a thief, then just wait quietly to go to jail!”
Serena picked up her phone and directly called the police: “Hello, Officer, we have a thief here who stole my million-dollar ring. The address is…”
The conversation outside the door clearly reached my ears. I stood there stunned, slowly sliding down with my back against the door.
My face was streaked with tears of despair.
I don’t know how long passed, but the door opened, and several police officers appeared.
I knelt directly, desperately kowtowing to them, crying and pleading: “My mom is gone… please…”
My voice was hoarse from long weeping; I could barely speak.
One female officer helped me up, gently comforting me.
“Don’t rush, take your time.”
I clutched the woman’s hands tightly, choked, and spoke with almost all my strength.
“My mom… she’s gone. Please, let me see her first…”
The officers’ faces hardened. They exchanged glances, then helped me into the car.
Serena let out a surprised “Hey!” wanting to stop them: “Shouldn’t you take her statement first?”
“Ms. Vance, what happens next is our business. You don’t need to worry.”
Serena was about to say more, but Julian, who had just come downstairs, pulled her aside.
“What’s wrong? Why all the commotion?”
A quick-mouthed friend in the crowd blurted out:
“The thief’s mom died. She was making a fuss to get out, and now Ms. Vance called the police to take her away.”
Julian paused in adjusting his sleeves. He turned, his face filled with shock.
“Her mom died?”
Serena tried to cover it up, but it was too late. The friend had already spoken.
“Yes! She was crying and making a scene all morning!”
Julian’s face instantly turned ashen. Without even tidying his jacket, he rushed out like a whirlwind.
All the way, I wept silently, an aura of death clinging to me.
After an unknown amount of time, the car stopped at the nursing home entrance.
Before it had even fully stopped, the door opened, and I leaped out.
The ground was slick from the heavy rain. I stumbled and fell a few times before rushing into the nursing home.
When I burst into her room, it was empty. I turned and ran towards the nursing home’s morgue, only to be stopped by Chloe at the door.
I fell to my knees, my voice hoarse, wailing in despair:
“Mom! Mom! I’m here… I’ve come to see you!”
Chloe embraced me, and we collapsed to the ground together, her hot tears soaking my neck.
They were scalding, yet chilling to the bone.
My eyes grew even more hollow. My lips trembled, and I cried silently, uncontrollably.
My voice seemed to disappear in an instant; only tears streamed down my face.
Footsteps approached, neither light nor heavy. Julian Thorne looked at my swollen face and bloodshot eyes, his heart aching.
Emotions churned in his eyes, and his words, tinged with clear regret, finally escaped:
“I’m sorry…”
I slowly lifted my eyes, looking at him through my tear-blurred vision.
My lips parted and closed, forming only one sentence: “Julian Thorne, get out! I never want to see you again!”
**Chapter 10**
When the police officers took me away, I said nothing, offered no defense, asked no questions.
Like a lifeless zombie…
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Rumor had it Marcus was cold as ice, completely uninterested in women. Yet, yesterday, in his office, he took me, not once, not twice, but *eight times*.
I naively thought he’d finally accepted me, his ordinary wife. But the moment he was done, he vanished without a trace.
He disappeared for twenty whole days.
Later, as I knelt sobbing at my father’s tombstone, my husband was holding the wedding of the century.
But the bride wasn’t me. It was Serena, his beloved “sister,” who only survived because she stole *my* kidney.
A cold realization washed over me. This entire marriage had been a sham from the very beginning.
If that’s how it is, then I’ll grant you your wish.
I sent him a text:
“Let’s get a divorce. See you at the courthouse at 9 AM the day after tomorrow!”
To my surprise, he replied instantly.
“Okay.”
That single, light word utterly shattered my heart.
Our mismatched marriage, doomed from the start by our different worlds, had finally reached its end.
The person he loved had never been me.
I thought back to six months ago, the first time he’d shown a vulnerable side.
“Scarlett, if you were the only one who could save me, would you be willing to pay any price?”
I stroked his face, answering without hesitation, “Of course. You’re my husband. I’d do anything for you.”
He then asked, “What if it’s for my sister?”
“Your sister is my sister. We’re family, and I’d help her just the same.”
He suddenly looked up, his eyes intense. “My sister needs your kidney. Are you really willing to donate it?”
I froze.
He saw my hesitation, and tears instantly welled in his eyes.
“Didn’t you just say you’d do anything for me? Turns out you were lying to me too!”
He pulled away from my embrace, shoving me away.
“You only married me for my status and wealth, you gold-digger, you social climber!”
Watching him lose control, my heart twisted in pain.
Finally, I nodded. “Okay, I promise.”
I didn’t know how long I’d been kneeling before my father’s tombstone. It wasn’t until dusk began to fall that I finally prepared to leave.
But at the cemetery gates, I ran into the two people I least wanted to see.
My soon-to-be ex-husband, Marcus Shen, and his so-called “sister,” Serena Wen.
Serena was Marcus’s childhood friend, but he’d always told me she was just a neighbor’s kid.
It was only recently that I discovered this “sister” identity was nothing but a smokescreen.
“Marcus, it’s so sweet of you to come with me to see Misty. Thank you so much.”
Her familiar voice reached me, and I instinctively looked up.
Misty was a purebred Ragdoll cat I’d rescued from a pet clinic.
She was filthy and had a broken leg back then. After I nursed her back to health, I named her Misty, a quiet whisper for new beginnings, for hope.
I never imagined that one day, when Serena visited our home, she’d burst into tears at the sight of Misty.
Apparently, Misty looked exactly like her lost beloved cat.
One evening, not long after, I came home to find Misty gone.
Marcus said he’d given the cat to Serena.
I had a huge fight with Marcus then, but he simply accused me of being unreasonable.
Later, seeing how genuinely Serena cared for Misty, I gradually put my mind at ease.
And yet, here they were, chatting and laughing effortlessly in the cemetery.
The moment my eyes met Marcus’s, all tenderness vanished from his face, replaced by pure disgust and contempt.
“Scarlett Lin, are you stalking me?”
At this absurd accusation, I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh.
“Mr. Marcus, you’re quite the comedian. I have far better things to do than stalk you.”
He narrowed his eyes, a sneer twisting his lips. “Really? This isn’t the first time you’ve pulled this stunt. Don’t think I don’t know your little games.”
“What, did you come here early to pick out a grave for your father? Or are you trying to use his illness to gain sympathy again?”
“Last week, I contacted the best specialists. They all said your father could fully recover if he actively cooperated with treatment.”
I turned to leave, unwilling to humor his sarcastic remarks.
“Think whatever you want.”
My indifference seemed to infuriate him. He grabbed my wrist, his voice laced with icy coldness:
“I heard you bought your father an exorbitant critical illness policy? No wonder you kept preventing him from getting treatment. Scarlett, you’re quite the schemer, aren’t you?”
That sentence ignited my fury.
I violently yanked my hand free, the force making him stumble back. Serena quickly caught him.
“Scarlett Lin! You crazy woman, how dare you lay hands on Marcus!” Serena shrieked, pointing a finger at me.
In the past, I always chose to silently endure their humiliation.
But now, I wouldn’t let anyone slander my father.
“Marcus Shen, you can trample on my dignity, but don’t you dare try to tarnish the bond between my father and me!”
I turned to Serena. “And you, Serena Wen, aren’t you perfectly alive and well right now?”
“If it weren’t for *my* kidney, you’d be lying in this cemetery right now! Stop with the innocent act, you fake saint!”
Marcus’s face instantly darkened. He snapped his fingers behind him. “Bodyguards! Make her kneel and apologize!”
Several men in black suits advanced towards me, but Serena suddenly interjected, “Wait!”
She clutched Marcus’s arm, feigning tenderness. “Marcus, don’t get upset over a woman like this. It’s bad for your health.”
Sure enough, Marcus immediately calmed down, waving off his bodyguards.
“Scarlett Lin, this is your final warning. If you cause any more trouble, don’t blame me if I revoke your father’s medical expenses too.”
Watching their retreating figures, walking hand-in-hand, the setting sun stretched their silhouettes long and distorted, like a cruel, jagged sword piercing through the last flicker of warmth in my soul.
I gazed at the darkening sky, my voice filled with an unprecedented resolve:
“Marcus Shen, 9 AM the day after tomorrow, courthouse. Consider these three years of marriage a time I was utterly blind.”
I hurried out of the cemetery, the night wind scattering the tears from my eyes.
As I walked down the street, three years of memories flooded back like a tide.
I remembered the first time I met Marcus.
It was a rainy night, and I was an intern waitress at a Michelin-starred restaurant.
Near closing time, a man, soaked to the bone, pushed open the glass door.
He was impeccably dressed in a suit, but he looked utterly disheveled and miserable.
I should have politely turned away a customer at that hour, but something in his eyes softened my resolve.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but could I get a hot coffee?”
His voice was pleasant, carrying a hint of exhaustion.
I led him to a seat by the fireplace and brought him the last slice of tiramisu and a hot Americano.
Not long after, I heard muffled sobs.
“Are you alright?” I offered him a tissue.
He looked up, tears blurring his handsome face. “My father kicked me out of the house.”
Looking at his exquisite features, my heart unexpectedly fluttered.
I thought it was just a typical family spat that would soon blow over.
Only later did I realize how wrong I was.
That night, he talked to me about many things, staying until dawn before he left.
Before walking out, he asked, “Can I come back tomorrow to talk to you again?”
Seeing the hopeful glint in his eyes, I found myself nodding, almost against my will.
And so, he began to frequent the restaurant.
Each time, he was the last customer, always ordering the same coffee and dessert.
He spoke softly, his manners elegant.
Gradually, I fell into the tender trap he’d woven.
Until that day, when he pointed to my intern name tag and said, “Scarlett, do you believe that this restaurant is actually my family’s business?”
I chuckled, teasing him, “Mr. Marcus, your storytelling skills are truly exceptional.”
“Don’t believe me?”
He pulled out his phone, pointing to a business news article. “See who this is?”
I froze.
The heir to the powerful Shen Group, featured in the news, was indeed the man sitting before me.
“Actually, I wasn’t kicked out. I left on my own.”
His eyes darkened. “My father wanted me to enter an arranged marriage, but I didn’t want to sacrifice myself to marry a woman I didn’t even know.”
“Meeting you was the greatest stroke of luck.”
He took my hand. “Scarlett, I have an unusual request…”
Watching his hesitant expression, my heart melted.
“I need a marriage. That way, my father can’t force me into an arranged marriage anymore.”
My heart plummeted. “Are you saying…”
He leaned in close, his warm breath caressing my ear. “I want to marry you, Scarlett.”
In that moment, all my rationality was swept away.
Later, we met his family.
His family surprisingly didn’t object, even buying us a beautiful lakeside villa.
But we never officially registered our marriage.
I started to feel a profound unease.
How could an ordinary girl like me be worthy of the Shen family heir?
Finally, one late night, I packed my bags and fled back to my hometown.
But the very next day, he followed me.
“Why did you run? The moment I found you gone, my world fell apart.”
He traveled two thousand miles, desperate to find me.
I tried to explain, but he simply kissed me, silencing my words.
Then he pulled me to City Hall.
The sun shone brightly that day, bathing our marriage certificate in a golden glow.
If only I had known it was all a meticulously planned deception…
If only I had known I was nothing but a pawn in his game…
If only I had known his heart had never truly belonged to me…
Perhaps, I wouldn’t have hurt so much.
I sat in the darkened living room, my fingers tracing the worn cover of my father’s old notebook.
“Dad, you were right. We truly belong to different worlds.”
“Like a moth to a flame, I was bound to get burned.”
I pressed my necklace to my chest, as if seeking my father’s forgiveness.
My signature on the divorce papers was already dry.
All that was missing was Marcus’s final stroke, and this farce could finally end.
Night fell, and the sound of laughter echoed from the villa’s doorway.
Their joyous voices pierced my eardrums, a stark contrast to the deadly silent living room.
Marcus pushed open the door. The moment he saw me, the smile froze on his lips.
His gaze flickered in the darkness, then settled into an expression of disgust.
“What? You can’t even afford to turn on the lights? Are you too poor to pay the electricity bill?”
Then he tossed a beautifully wrapped box at me.
“A new Hermès Birkin, global limited edition.”
“Remember to pair it with the Cartier jewelry set I bought you. Don’t embarrass me out there.”
This was his usual routine.
Every time we had an argument, he’d send me a luxury item, as if offering a peace offering.
But this time, I suddenly had no desire to play along.
I picked up the documents from the coffee table and flung them directly at his face.
“Sign it.”
The papers slipped from his grasp, scattering across the floor.
When Marcus saw the contents of the agreement, his expression instantly twisted into a sneer.
“Scarlett Lin, what is this supposed to mean?”
I met his gaze with cold eyes. “Can’t you read English? Sign it!”
I tossed the pen in front of him. “Don’t waste my time. Sign it and get out.”
His anger dissipated in an instant, replaced by a playful smirk.
“I get it,” he said, a dismissive laugh escaping him. “Did your father put you up to this?”
“Trying to threaten me with divorce, hoping I’ll soften up?”
He began to pace. “That trick is so old.”
“If you want something, just tell me directly instead of playing these games. If you’re short on cash, just ask my assistant. Why go through all this trouble?”
“Scarlett Lin, this is my last warning. Don’t play your little game of push and pull. You know I despise that.”
He glanced towards the kitchen. “Go prepare dinner. Serena will be here soon, and remember, she prefers mild dishes.”
I scoffed, nudging the divorce papers on the floor towards him with my foot.
“Marcus Shen, are you seriously that dense, or are you just playing dumb? I want a divorce!”
“What did you say?”
“Di-vorce!”
I repeated, enunciating each syllable.
Suddenly, a cold laugh echoed from behind me.
Serena had appeared in the living room without me noticing. She shoved me aside.
“You ungrateful bitch, I’ve been too good to you!”
“Marcus lets you live in a mansion, drive a limited-edition sports car, even your current job was arranged by him. How dare you speak to him with such disrespect?”
“Get on your knees and apologize to Marcus!”
I stumbled a few steps, my lower back slamming against the coffee table, a dull ache blooming instantly.
Once, I would have silently endured such humiliation.
But today, I wouldn’t take it anymore.
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A text message suddenly popped up on my phone:
[This is my 99th time proposing to you. If you don’t say yes, I’m jumping off the company roof!]
My colleague, Scarlett Hayes, saw it and shook me violently.
“Amelia Vance, snap out of it! You absolutely cannot marry this obsessive broke loser!”
She was convinced I was being emotionally manipulated, and she spread rumors everywhere that my boyfriend was a violent psycho.
Director Thompson, swayed by her gossip, mocked me relentlessly. “People blinded by love can’t be trusted.”
Suddenly, a million dollars went missing from the company accounts. Scarlett and Director Thompson teamed up to frame me.
“Amelia, what has that boyfriend of yours done to you? To actually embezzle company funds!”
Seeing their smug faces, I dialed the Chairman’s number directly.
“Do you know everyone in your company calls you a stalker?”
Liam Sterling’s voice on the phone sounded tired but still gentle. “I’m in Europe for a conference. What’s wrong, Honey?”
I cut straight to the chase: “A million dollars is missing from the company account. They say I embezzled it. Should I pay it back?”
There was a second of silence on the other end.
Then, his low chuckle. “You won’t even use my credit card. Why would you touch company money? Honey, that’s not a funny joke.”
I hung up.
Director Thompson and Scarlett exchanged a knowing glance, and the office erupted in deafening laughter.
Director Thompson doubled over with laughter, pointing at me.
“Amelia, where did you find a voice actor?”
“His voice actually sounds a lot like the Chairman’s. That must have cost a fortune, right? Can your boyfriend, the one who only threatens to jump off buildings, afford it?”
“You think the Chairman’s personal assistant is your housemaid, available at your beck and call?”
Scarlett lunged at me, clutching my wrist tightly, her nails digging into my skin.
“Amelia, snap out of it! How can you be so manipulated by a man?”
She lowered her voice, whispering in my ear:
“I know you care about your image, but don’t go to those loan sharks! He’s a broke loser, it’s not worth it!”
“Is he forcing you? Did he make you embezzle company funds? Quick, tell Director Thompson the truth! Everyone here is trying to help you!”
I told them the truth, but you didn’t believe me.
Yesterday afternoon, I was reporting on project progress when Liam Sterling’s text suddenly popped up.
[99th proposal. If you don’t say yes, I’m jumping off the company roof.]
I reacted quickly and immediately turned off the projector.
Scarlett’s face changed dramatically.
After the meeting, she pulled me aside, lecturing me earnestly.
“Amelia, listen to me, you absolutely cannot keep a man like that!”
“99 proposals? Who does that? That’s clearly the behavior of an obsessive freak!”
I tried to explain, tried to tell her Liam Sterling wasn’t obsessive, that it was just our little romantic game.
My family wasn’t exactly struggling financially either.
But she cut me off.
“Amelia, wake up! How can ordinary people like us marry an heir to one of the richest families? You’re delusional!”
Her words were like a bucket of cold water dumped over me.
I looked at her familiar face, remembering all the little details from our four years in college.
She always said she was ostracized by her roommates, and only I was willing to be her friend.
I knew she struggled financially, so I specifically had my family’s company set up a special scholarship fund for the school and urged her to apply.
When she was sick and hospitalized, I took her to our family’s private hospital, lying to her that the director was a distant relative who could give us a discount.
I was careful not to hurt her fragile ego, never revealing my family background. I even managed to keep Liam Sterling’s true identity completely under wraps.
Now, she was looking at me like I was mentally unstable.
“Amelia!”
Director Thompson’s roar snapped me back to reality.
“What are you spacing out for? I’m talking to you!”
Scarlett immediately rushed to Director Thompson, her face contorted in mock anguish.
“Director, don’t be angry with her. She… she’s really sick.”
“Yesterday, she told me herself that her boyfriend is the heir to Sterling Industries, and that she’s some kind of wealthy heiress herself!”
“Sterling Industries’ heir… isn’t that our Chairman? Has the Chairman ever even looked at her properly?!”
“What kind of pipe dreams is Amelia having?”
“She’s so brainwashed by PUA, she doesn’t even know who she is anymore!”
Scarlett choked out, pretending to be heartbroken.
“We were roommates for four years in college, I know her situation best! She’s just like me, she only got through college with financial aid!”
“Her family was so broke they could barely cover tuition, and I had to scrimp and save every penny for living expenses! Now she’s claiming to be a rich girl?”
“What has this obsessive boyfriend of hers brainwashed her into!”
Director Thompson listened, his face completely darkening.
He sneered contemptuously. “So utterly manipulated by a man that she’s lost her mind, and still dares to embezzle company funds?”
He pulled out a termination notice and slapped it on my face.
“You have one minute. Sign it, then get out of my sight immediately!”
The paper sliced my cheek, leaving a small cut.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. I won’t sign.”
Director Thompson’s face flushed a deep crimson.
“How dare you defy me!”
He coldly flicked his chin at the colleagues behind him.
“Throw her things out.”
A few colleagues who usually hung out with Scarlett immediately rushed to my desk and pulled open the drawers.
I lunged forward, wanting to grab the photos of Liam and me, but someone shoved me hard. My waist hit the desk, and I couldn’t recover for a while.
Files, notebooks, a water bottle, gifts Liam had given me…
Everything I owned was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor.
A fountain pen rolled to Scarlett’s feet.
“Oh my God, Amelia… isn’t this a Montblanc StarWalker?”
She held up the pen, her voice shrill.
“This pen costs hundreds of thousands! How could your boyfriend possibly afford it?”
“Did he take out predatory loans to buy this for you? Is that why he’s forcing you to embezzle company funds to pay off debts?”
Scarlett seemed to have a sudden realization. She clapped her hands sharply, looking at me with a triumphant expression.
“I get it! I get it all now! Amelia, what a cunning scheme you’ve cooked up!”
“Director! I know! She and that obsessive boyfriend of hers planned this together! It’s all a scam!”
“They want to become TikTok famous!”
“She pretends to be a wealthy heiress, her boyfriend pretends to be a rich, handsome CEO-type. They take out loans to buy luxury items for her, then shoot some videos, make up some stories, and post them online to flaunt their wealth. Doesn’t that get them followers and let them cash in?”
“There are tons of scripts like this online now! Embezzling company funds is just their first investment to launch this scam!”
The surrounding colleagues gasped in understanding, their gazes shifting from contempt to mockery.
Seeing their reaction, Scarlett spoke with even more enthusiasm. “To kick off this script, they needed initial capital, right?”
“A million dollars, not too much, not too little, just enough for them to buy several fake designer bags, rent luxury cars for a few days, and then buy some paid bots and promotional campaigns!”
“This embezzled public money is the startup fund for their influencer careers!”
She looked at me with mock anguish. “Amelia, I never thought you’d be this kind of person! For fame, for money, aren’t you even afraid of going to jail? What kind of spell has that boyfriend of yours cast on you!”
Just then, a photo slipped out of my notebook and landed at Director Thompson’s feet.
It was a picture of Liam and me at Disneyland.
Director Thompson picked up the photo. The moment he saw what it was, his face twisted into a sneer.
“Amelia, you actually dared to Photoshop the Chairman’s photo!”
“My God, to become an influencer, she even dares to use the Chairman’s likeness! She’s got some nerve!”
“If the Chairman finds out about this, won’t he sue her to oblivion?”
Director Thompson had had enough of laughing. He contemptuously flicked the photo onto my face.
“Amelia, you truly astound me.”
“The script’s written, the props are ready, even the promotional photos are Photoshopped. All that’s left is the startup capital, isn’t that right?”
“Using the Chairman’s likeness for self-promotion, aren’t you afraid that if he finds out, one cease and desist letter will wipe you out financially?”
“Or do you think that obsessive broke loser boyfriend of yours, the one who only threatens to jump off buildings, can help you fight the entire legal department of Sterling Industries?”
Scarlett snatched the photo, and in my stunned gaze, she tore it in half.
“Amelia, snap out of it!”
“Stop living in this delusional fantasy! All that junk that man gave you—that crappy fountain pen and all those other useless things—return whatever you can! Then, break up with him immediately!”
She took a deep breath, looking as if she was deeply worried about me.
“If things are really bad,”
“I can introduce you to my brother. He’s not some wealthy heir, but he’s honest and dependable, and he’ll treat you well.”
“Both our families are from small towns, we know each other inside and out, so we’re a good match. This is the kind of life you should be living!”
I suddenly looked up, staring at her in disbelief.
Her unmarried older brother, who was forty years old and still couldn’t find a wife?
That lazy bum who never held a proper job a day in his life back in our hometown, only stealing chickens from neighbors and watermelons from people’s gardens?
That leech who’d drain half her monthly allowance every time he came to the city to visit her?
I couldn’t hold back anymore. A scoff escaped my lips.
Scarlett’s face instantly flushed crimson.
“What are you laughing at?!”
“Amelia, I’m trying to help you out of the goodness of my heart, and this is your attitude?”
“My brother, no matter how bad, is a hundred times better than your boyfriend! How can you talk about him like that! How dare you look down on him!”
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I slapped her across the face.
The sharp sound echoed in the dead silent office.
“You’re disgusting.”
Scarlett clutched her face, completely stunned.
A few seconds later, she lunged into Director Thompson’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Director, look at her… she’s crazy! She actually hit me!”
Director Thompson exploded in fury, pointing his finger at my nose and cursing me out.
“Is this how your parents raised you? Did growing up on a farm make you lose your mind? How dare you assault someone in the office!”
He gave a look to the two security guards at the door.
“Hold her down!”
The security guards immediately rushed forward, pinning me firmly in place.
Scarlett walked up to me, her eyes filled with venom, not a shred of her pretense remaining.
She raised her hand and slapped me back with all her might.
She hit me a dozen times, furiously slapping me left and right until her own hand hurt, and she shook it out.
My cheek was swollen like a balloon, and three of my teeth fell to the floor.
“Director, my hand hurts so much…” she whined to Director Thompson.
A flicker of distress crossed Director Thompson’s eyes.
“Take a break if your hand hurts.”
His gaze swept across the office.
“All of you, line up! One by one!”
“Anyone who dares not to hit her today will be fired along with her tomorrow!”
The colleagues exchanged glances. No one dared to move, and no one dared to speak.
Director Thompson casually pointed at a female colleague who usually got along best with Scarlett.
“You, first!”
The woman’s face instantly turned white.
“Director… I…”
“Hit her!” Director Thompson’s voice was devoid of any warmth.
The colleague closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and raised her hand, slapping me across the face.
Director Thompson smiled with satisfaction.
Once there was one, there would be a second.
The crowd began to stir. Those who had received small favors from Scarlett in the past, or who feared Director Thompson’s authority, began to line up.
One by one, they came forward, their palms landing on my face.
Director Thompson seemed to enjoy the spectacle. He watched my disheveled state, the smile on his face growing wider.
“Embezzling company funds, disturbing the peace, and even daring to assault someone – the nature of this is truly heinous!”
He finally grew tired of the game.
“Take her to security and wait for Mr. Sterling to deal with her!”
Director Thompson yanked my hair. A searing pain tore through my scalp.
He forcibly dragged me out, past countless stares, through the crowd.
I was dragged into a room in the security department.
Director Thompson and Scarlett pushed a stack of fabricated account statements and “testimonies” they had coerced from colleagues in front of me.
“Amelia, do you plead guilty?”
My face was numb, my mouth full of the taste of blood.
I looked up, my voice hoarse: “I want a lawyer. Notify my family.”
Scarlett shrieked as if she’d heard the funniest joke. “Are you crazy? You want your parents from the farm to sell their blood to hire you a lawyer? Amelia, how can you be so heartless!”
Director Thompson folded his arms, surveying me contemptuously. “Stop bluffing. What can your farmer parents do when they get here? Kneel down and beg us?”
I ignored him, my gaze fixed on Scarlett’s face.
“I really don’t have the heart to.”
“But I’m even more afraid that your leech of a brother won’t find another host to latch onto.”
Scarlett’s face instantly contorted.
She snatched an electric stun baton that a security guard had temporarily placed on a nearby table.
“I’ll teach you to run your mouth! I’ll kill you! Die!”
The room instantly descended into chaos.
The security guards rushed forward, pinning the completely out-of-control Scarlett to the ground.
“Don’t do anything rash!”
I was taken to a windowless storage room.
The door slammed shut behind me.
Darkness instantly swallowed me.
The air grew thin, and the walls seemed to press in on me.
My claustrophobia immediately flared. I couldn’t breathe, my body trembled violently, and cold sweat soaked my back.
I curled up in a corner, my mouth opening futilely, but not a single breath of air entered my lungs.
Memories flooded back from college, when Scarlett had locked me in the art room and I was almost sexually assaulted by a group of thugs.
Liam Sterling had saved me then.
I had always thought it was just an accident.
Scarlett’s unintentional mistake.
Now, in this same darkness, it all clicked into place.
It wasn’t an accident. It was premeditated.
She probably knew my identity all along.
My consciousness began to fade.
“BANG!”
With a thunderous crash, the storage room door was kicked open from the outside by a powerful force!
Light surged in, blinding me.
A tall figure stood in the doorway, dusty from travel, silhouetted against the light.
Behind him were a dozen bodyguards in black suits with grim expressions, and the pale-faced head of the security department.
Liam Sterling’s gaze cut through the dust and light, landing precisely on me.
He walked towards me, step by step.
“Honey, I’m back.”
Liam Sterling took off his suit jacket and wrapped it tightly around me.
He ignored everyone else in the room, cradling my face, his voice trembling.
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My daughter Eliza Mclean was assaulted and murdered, but the court ruled it a suicide.
I appealed seven times, never getting a fair outcome. So I kidnapped District Attorney George Kennedy’s daughter, Rosie Kennedy.
In the livestream, I strapped Rosie to the autopsy table.
Then, in front of everyone watching, I declared loudly: “I performed an autopsy on Eliza myself. Eliza didn’t commit suicide—she was murdered.
“I’m giving you seven chances to reveal the real evidence and the killer. For every wasted opportunity, I’ll destroy one part of Rosie’s body.”
George and his wife Millie Kennedy cried, begging me to spare Rosie. Millie said, “The evidence shows your daughter committed suicide. Stop this madness and release my daughter. She’s innocent.”
At that moment, viewers in the livestream were calling me deranged and cruel, saying I’d lost my mind over my daughter’s death and was taking my rage out on an innocent person.
No matter how disgusted everyone looked at me, I smirked coldly, picked up the scalpel, and made a cut across Rosie’s stomach.
I said, “Time’s ticking. You better reveal the real killer fast.”
I knew perfectly well that the actual murderer was watching this livestream right now.
Seeing Rosie bound to the autopsy table, George and Millie completely broke down.
George shouted at me: “Freya, your daughter committed suicide. What gives you the right to kidnap my daughter? She’s only eight years old.” Freya Mclean is my name.
Millie also said, “You’re a mother yourself—how can you be so heartless?”
The police officers standing behind George tried to calm me down. My colleagues also urged me not to do anything stupid, not to ruin my future.
A female colleague said, “Freya, calm down. Don’t hurt an innocent child. Eliza really did commit suicide.”
A male colleague said, “You understand the law—don’t make a mistake that destroys both you and others. Eliza wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
Another female colleague added, “That’s right. Eliza’s body is still in the freezer, waiting for you to take her home.”
In the livestream, some viewers joined in condemning me.
[Is she sick or something? Her daughter’s dead, so she thinks she can take it out on someone else?]
[I heard she won’t accept that her daughter committed suicide—seven appeals all rejected. Looks like she wants revenge on George.]
[If seven appeals failed, it proves her daughter definitely committed suicide. Otherwise, they would’ve found the killer by now.]
[Her daughter committed suicide, so why doesn’t she think about whether she’s the problem?]
They had their reasons, and I had mine.
Eliza absolutely could not have committed suicide.
Three months ago, Eliza was supposed to start college in Washington, but she suddenly died.
Someone pulled her body from the river. She was naked, covered in bruises all over her body.
Since Eliza and I were mother and daughter, the police station assigned a different medical examiner to perform her autopsy.
I thought the autopsy would give Eliza justice, but the final result still ruled it suicide.
However, Eliza was such a bright, radiant child—she absolutely could not have committed suicide.
After bringing Eliza’s body home, I performed my own autopsy on her with tears in my eyes, and discovered that Eliza had been assaulted before her death.
I gathered the evidence and appealed again and again, demanding the case be reopened. But every single appeal was rejected.
On the seventh appeal, I even photographed a particularly obvious, horrifying tear wound on Eliza’s body as evidence. But in the end, I was still rejected.
I couldn’t accept it, so I kidnapped Rosie.
I wanted the prosecutor’s office to speak the truth with their own mouths.
I walked over to Rosie’s side, toying with the scalpel in my hand.
I said to George, “I told you before—Eliza didn’t commit suicide.”
“George, I’ve already given you a chance. Whether you can save your daughter’s life depends entirely on your choice. After all, blades are merciless—they can hurt people.”
I’ll never forget how indifferent George looked when my seventh appeal was rejected.
I was so furious I screamed like a madwoman: “All this evidence was found on my daughter’s body—it’s enough to prove someone committed a crime. I’ve appealed seven times and personally performed seven autopsies on Eliza. If that’s still not enough, what evidence do you people need to reopen the case?”
But George just gave me a cold glance.
Then he said in that heartless, indifferent tone: “Freya, because you and Eliza are mother and daughter, the materials you’ve provided could be deliberately fabricated. They’re insufficient to prove someone intentionally harmed Eliza.”
His words made it crystal clear—no matter how many times I appealed, it would be useless.
Even my lawyer shook his head helplessly and said, “Freya, just give up.”
Give up?
But every time I thought of Eliza’s face, I couldn’t do it.
Seeing that I was actually about to use the knife on Rosie, everyone panicked.
Millie pleaded with me directly: “Don’t hurt my child.”
Then she turned to George, pushing him frantically while saying, “You need to have someone bring out the evidence, or Rosie’s going to die!”
George frowned and took a deep breath.
He still refused to budge: “Freya, how many times do I have to tell you? Your daughter really did commit suicide.”
But before he could finish speaking, the knife in my hand had already sliced off one of Rosie’s ears. Blood flowed from the wound.
Even though she was drugged unconscious, Rosie’s body still jerked violently from the pain.
I said coldly to George, “You now have six chances left.”
Seeing that I had actually hurt Rosie, everyone went into full panic mode.
Millie nearly fainted from shock, screaming hysterically: “You psycho! Don’t touch my child—she’s innocent!”
George’s eyes turned red with panic as he frantically called his superiors at the prosecutor’s office for help.
The police were desperately trying every method to locate my position.
Too bad they couldn’t find me.
The account I was using for the livestream was a verified account purchased overseas—they had no way of tracking my exact location in such a short time.
During the wait, the livestream chat was flooded with comments cursing me.
[She’s pure evil—she belongs in hell!]
[Why didn’t she die instead?]
[Police need to catch this criminal who’s a danger to society!]
Countless people cursed me, but I didn’t care.
As long as I could clear Eliza’s name, I was willing to do anything.
I ignored all the abuse. Ten minutes later, George publicly released what they called their “investigation evidence” in the livestream channel.
I took one look at it, then turned and severed one of Rosie’s thumbs.
Then I said to George, “You have five chances left.”
I’d already seen those pieces of evidence George had shown me countless times. All of them pointed to Eliza’s suicide.
But I wasn’t satisfied with any of that evidence.
Those so-called pieces of evidence were nothing but carefully fabricated lies, shields used to cover up the truth.
I continued holding the scalpel, gently sliding it across Rosie’s arm, leaving a shallow trail of blood.
I said to George, “George, you know damn well this isn’t the evidence I want.”
My voice was ice-cold, sharp as a poisoned blade. “I want the real killer. I want evidence of who violated my daughter. I want those things you’ve gone to great lengths to hide. Stop trying to fool me with this fake garbage. Otherwise, next time it won’t just be her fingers that get destroyed.”
George’s face instantly turned pale.
But he still insisted, “This is the evidence. These things clearly show that your daughter Eliza committed suicide.”
Millie rushed toward the camera like a madwoman, crying hysterically.
She screamed at me, “You psycho! Let my child go! We’ve given you all the evidence. What more do you want?”
Watching her breakdown, I let out a bitter laugh.
I said, “We’re both mothers. You can’t bear to see your child suffer, and I can’t accept my daughter dying for nothing.”
At that moment, the livestream chat was once again flooded with viewers’ curses.
[The evidence is right in front of her face. She just refuses to accept it!]
[She’s got some kind of persecution complex, right?]
[We live in a society ruled by law now. I really don’t know what she’s still making a fuss about.]
The viewers’ abuse was worse than before, but I couldn’t hear any of it.
My eyes could only see the truth that refused to surface and the image of Eliza’s death.
Time passed second by second. Each second felt like it was slowly cutting through my heart, while also counting down to the next part of Rosie’s body that would be destroyed.
By the third chance, they were still trying to fool me with fake evidence.
I knew they were stalling for time. They were figuring out how to deal with me, but I wouldn’t give them that chance.
I steeled myself and severed the tendons in Rosie’s hand.
I said, “George, I have time to waste with you, but your daughter doesn’t. What’s it going to be? Are you really going to sacrifice your own flesh and blood to protect a criminal?”
George couldn’t speak. His hands hung at his sides, clenched into tight fists, his whole body trembling.
Millie had already passed out.
The police were still trying to persuade me, even bringing in my teacher, Hugo Miller.
Standing in front of the camera, Hugo squinted his bloodshot, cloudy eyes at me and said, “Freya, you used to speak for the people. How can you hurt the people now? I know Eliza is dead, and you’re heartbroken. But listen to me—don’t go down the wrong path.”
Looking at this man who had once loved me like his own daughter, my heart ached terribly.
Hugo had personally performed Eliza’s autopsy, yet he was hiding the truth.
I asked Hugo, “You watched Eliza grow up. Didn’t your heart ache when you were performing her autopsy? Why are you helping them hide the truth too?”
I couldn’t understand why everyone was helping the killer cover things up.
Hugo sighed and said, “Freya, Eliza really did commit suicide. I’m not lying to you. The police aren’t lying to you. Neither are the prosecutor’s office or the judge.”
After finishing, he exchanged a glance with George, then called in a girl who was standing by the door.
Hugo explained to me, “Eliza committed suicide because of depression. This girl can testify to that.”
Seeing the girl in front of the camera, I froze.
That girl was Eliza’s best friend, Elsie Jones.
Elsie spoke up in front of everyone.
She said, “Freya, I can testify. Eliza suffered from depression. She had suicidal thoughts.”
Elsie’s words left me frozen in place.
It took me a long while to snap back to reality, unable to believe what I’d just heard.
I stared at Elsie’s evasive eyes, my heart feeling like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain making it almost impossible to breathe.
Elsie was Eliza’s closest friend when she was alive. They were as close as sisters. She often came to our house for dinner and would sleep in the same bed as Eliza, sharing their secrets. How could she come forward with such false testimony?
I remembered that just the day before Eliza’s accident, she had excitedly told me that she and Elsie had gotten into the same college. They had made plans to visit Washington together after the semester started, to sightsee and try all the local food.
When Eliza told me these things, her voice was full of anticipation and excitement. How could this possibly be the state of someone suffering from depression with suicidal thoughts?
I tried to keep my voice calm, but my slightly trembling hands betrayed my emotions. “Elsie, look me in the eyes and tell me—is what you’re saying true? When did Eliza tell you she had depression? Did she go to a hospital? Is there a medical diagnosis?”
Elsie wouldn’t look me in the eye, her voice barely audible: “Before the SAT exam, Eliza said she was afraid of disappointing you if she couldn’t get into a Washington school. She said the academic pressure was too much, that she felt life had no meaning.”
“That’s nonsense!” I suddenly raised my voice, cutting her off.
“Eliza’s grades were always excellent. Getting into a Washington university was her dream. How could she want to die because of academic pressure? You’re lying! Did someone force you to say this? Was it the killer? Or George?” I paused, then looked toward Hugo. “Or was it Hugo?”
Elsie shook her head and pulled an envelope from her pocket.
She opened the envelope and took out a piece of paper.
Elsie said, “Freya, no one threatened me. Eliza really did commit suicide. This is her suicide note.”
She unfolded Eliza’s suicide note and held it up to the camera for me to see.
The note read: [Mom, I’m sorry. I can’t go on living.]
I stared at that suicide note, my heart aching like it was being pierced by needles.
The handwriting on the note was indeed Eliza’s, and the police had provided handwriting analysis results.
In that moment, I began to doubt my own judgment.
Had Eliza really committed suicide because of depression? Had I really failed to notice her psychological condition?
In my daze, I noticed a particular phrase in the suicide note.
Because of that phrase, I finally understood why Eliza’s death had been ruled a suicide.
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I was born with a special condition, having two hearts. This was the only thing that could make my parents happy. Because my brother had a congenital heart disease.
My parents gave birth to me only to extend my brother’s life. Later, I met Wendy Wat and married her. She saved me from the abyss of begging for affection. I thought she would be different from my parents.
But after my brother fell ill, she stubbornly hoped I could donate a heart to him. But she didn’t know I had long been left with only one heart. And my other heart was with her.
——
“It’s just one heart, why are you so selfish? Weren’t you born to keep your brother alive?” My hand was tightly gripped by Wendy.
I said helplessly, “But I want to live too. Without a heart, I will die.”
Wendy’s expression stiffened, then she continued, “You have two hearts, even if you give one, you still have another, you can live. But your brother is different, without your heart, he will die.” She ignored my struggle and pushed me into the preparation room.
I helplessly tried to explain, “I only have one heart now. Didn’t you see the test results?”
Wendy didn’t listen at all. “Who knows what you did to avoid donating? Maybe you even bribed the people in the examination room.” Wendy thought I bribed the medical staff to alter the report.
I defended myself, “No, Wendy, I had surgery when I was a child, I already donated one heart.”
“Enough, Alan, it’s just to save your brother, why are you so stubborn?” Wendy directly cut me off.
“I’m not lying, my heart is in you,” I pleaded.
Wendy didn’t listen to a word I said and walked straight to my brother’s prep room. At this time, the other doctors in the prep room also froze.
Then someone spoke, “Talking about love at a time like this is disgusting.”
“Your brother is on the verge of death and you are here telling disgusting love stories to your sister-in-law.”
Only our families knew about my marriage to Wendy. None of Wendy’s colleagues knew me.
Since Wendy handled all of my brother’s hospitalization procedures, everyone in the department thought my older brother was her husband. And Wendy never explained.
“Exactly, instead of saving your brother, you’re seducing your sister-in-law.”
“It’s a waste for your heart to stay in your body.”
Hearing the other doctors’ words, I couldn’t help but want to tell the truth, “Actually, I am …”
Wendy came out of the prep room and grabbed my hand. “Today you must donate your heart. Your brother is already in the operating room and you’re next.”
As she spoke, Wendy took out a stack of documents. “I’ve already signed everything, you just need to get on the operating table.”
In the operating room, I saw Toby, who looked extremely weak, making everyone feel sorry for him.
One of the doctor said, “Don’t worry, your wife, Dr. Wat, will make sure you live a long life.”
Toby heard the term and didn’t refute it, just gave a weak smile, “It’s all my fault, making my younger brother sacrifice so much for me.” His words were full of guilt, but his eyes at me were full of provocation.
The other doctors, hearing this, thought my brother was kind and I was vicious.
After comforted Toby, Wendy ignored my violent struggle and forcibly pushed me onto the operating table. She ordered the anesthetist to quickly inject the anesthesia.
A moment later, my intense struggle finally calmed down.
Wendy brushed my cheek, “Don’t worry, I will definitely keep you alive.”
Wendy’s mentor had performed heart transplants before, so she was confident she can keep me alive. She said, “After your brother recovers, the whole family will accept you and I will stay by your side.”
Wendy and her colleagues carried out the surgery nervously but orderly.
After a long time, Wendy took a heart out of my body.
Before she could take a closer look, she rushed into Toby’s operating room with my heart.
My chest lay open, my body lying alone on the operating table.
The sharp alarm of the monitor startled the watching doctor. “How did he die? Didn’t they say he had two hearts?”
One of Wendy’s colleagues felt puzzled, “You even believed Dr. Wat’s joke?”
“It’s good that he died, after all the bad things he did, not saving Dr. Wat’s husband and even trying to seduce Dr. Wat.” Another colleague replied.
“Then what should we do now? He’s dead, just wait for someone to collect the corpse. If no one claims him, the morgue will handle it.” After speaking, all the doctors left the operating room.
Wendy devoted herself to Toby’s surgery. Although she was confident, it was her first time performing a heart transplant on a patient.
Fortunately, a few hours later, she successfully completed the surgery. After finishing the surgery, Wendy followed Toby back to his ward.
After Toby was settled, she finally thought of me. Just as Wendy wanted to return to the operating room to check on me, she ran into a colleague who had assisted earlier, “Where is my husband?”
The colleague thought for a moment and answered, “Didn’t he already come back? Don’t worry, after surgery someone will watch him. The nurses will take care of your husband.”
Wendy didn’t think too much about the oddity in the words and instead felt her colleague was right. With her influence, the nurses would surely keep an eye on me. So Wendy returned to her office to continue working.
A day later, Toby woke up. Wendy stayed by Toby’s side, “Toby, you’re finally awake.”
When Toby woke up and saw Wendy, he cried excitedly.
Wendy stepped forward to hug Toby, “Don’t worry, the surgery was very successful. Your heart will not have any problems in the future.”
Toby touched his heart. Thinking that the disease that had plagued him for years was finally gone, he kept hugging Wendy and crying.
While warning him not to let his emotions fluctuate too much, Wendy gently patted his back to calm him.
The nurses in the department teased Wendy seeing this scene, “Dr. Wat treats her husband so well.”
Wendy froze when she heard this. She thought of me still lying in another room and hurried to explain, “You’re mistaken, he’s not …”
Toby timely covered his heart and interrupted Wendy’s words.
Wendy could only pat his back, “I told you not to cry. What you need to do now is rest more to recover.”
Maybe because of seeing Toby like this, Wendy suddenly remembered me. It seemed she hadn’t seen me since the surgery, “Toby, you rest well, I’ll go check on Alan.” As she spoke, Wendy was about to get up.
But Toby suddenly grabbed Wendy’s hand, “I secretly did the surgery without telling my parents. Now is a critical recovery period, without someone with me, I’m afraid I won’t recover well.”
Seeing Toby’s pale face, Wendy softened.
Thinking the doctors and nurses would take care of me out of respect for her, she felt relieved again.
“Alright, I’ll stay with you a few more days.” After seeing Wendy sit down, Toby slowly closed his eyes.
In the morgue, the orderly stared at my corpse, troubled, “It’s been two days and no one has come to claim him. What should we do?”
Another orderly was cleaning up, “What are you looking at? Finish up quickly and we can leave early.” So the two of them casually threw my body into a bag together.
One of them said, “Judging by how miserable he looks, he probably wasn’t a good person anyway.”
“Good person or bad, once they’re cremated, they’re all the same.”
“True, but it’s still a pity, he was so young.”
***
Two more days passed. After seeing Toby mostly recover, Wendy finally remembered to check on me.
She walked to my hospital room and saw it completely empty. A nurse was tidying up the bed.
“Where’s the patient from this bed?” Wendy asked.
The nurse looked up and saw it was Wendy, “The patient was discharged.”
Hearing the nurse’s words, Wendy felt a bit annoyed. She thought I had just had surgery, yet didn’t stay to recover properly. Where had I run off to?
She took out her phone and dialed my number. But the call never went through.
“Fine, if you have the guts to die out there, don’t come looking for me.” Wendy stormed back to Toby’s ward.
Sensing Wendy’s anger, Toby spoke up, “Is Alan very angry, refusing to forgive you? It’s all my fault, I’ll go explain to him right away, don’t let him misunderstand you because of me.”
Toby hurried to get out of bed, but Wendy immediately stopped him. “Why care about him? What you need to do now is focus on recovering.”
“That way, when you’re discharged, Mom and Dad will be happy to hear the good news. As for Alan, he won’t die, he’s already been discharged,” she said.
Wendy recalled how I had desperately begged her before the surgery and she still felt upset.
She couldn’t understand why I, as his relative, could be so heartless toward my brother. Seeing Toby always thought of me, she felt even more that I wasn’t as good as him.
She thought that since I was so stubborn and insisted on leaving, I could just calm down on my own. When Toby was discharged, it wouldn’t be too late to call me back.
In the doctors’ office, the colleagues were laughing and chatting. When they saw Wendy walk in, they all immediately went quiet.
Wendy felt something strange. “What were you talking about just now?”
No one answered.
After a while, a colleague came up and hugged Wendy’s shoulder, “What else could we talk about? Of course, we were saying how deep the love is between you and your husband.”
Thinking about how I was forced to donate one of my hearts, Wendy felt that I truly loved her deeply. Even though it was under pressure, at least I had helped her and saved a life.
Thinking of this, she forgave my sudden disappearance, but she was still angry that I wouldn’t answer her calls.
A colleague noticed the melancholy on her face, “Is your husband in a bad mood?”
Wendy stayed silent.
The colleague continued, “He just had surgery, feeling down is normal. You should be more understanding, do something to cheer him up.”
Hearing this, Wendy’s brows gradually relaxed. She thought of how much I loved the pastries from the shop near home, so she decided to go home after work.
Wendy carried the pastries back to our apartment, “Honey? I bought the pastries you like.”
No one responded.
She had just set down the pastries when she saw the divorce papers I had placed on the table a week ago.
The moment she had asked me to donate my heart, I had already decided to divorce her.
Wendy stared at the agreement in disbelief. She thought to herself, was it really necessary?
It was just one heart. And he actually dared to propose divorce over this.
Wendy angrily threw the pastries into the trash, “If you don’t want this home, then never come back.”
At that moment, the phone rang. Wendy picked up her phone.
“Wendy? Where has Alan been lately?” My dad, who rarely called, was asking about me. After all, he usually only ever mentioned Toby.
Wendy thought for a while and realized only my parents could force me to show up. Plus, Toby had mostly recovered by now. So she told my dad about Toby’s surgery.
My parents rushed to the hospital overnight. At the first sight of my parents, Toby couldn’t stop his tears.
After the three of them cried together for a while, my parents asked about me, “Where’s your younger brother? You’re in the same department and he hasn’t come to see you yet?”
Toby hesitated. “He’s already been discharged.”
My mom hugged Toby, “Discharged? His body’s pretty strong, doing surgery and leaving just days later, not afraid of dying out there.”
My dad quickly stopped her. “What are you saying? Even though Toby had surgery, there’s no guarantee there won’t be future problems. If he dies, what will happen to Toby?”
After hearing this, my mom slapped her mouth repeatedly, “Oh crap! Even if I die, I prefer to die before Toby.”
“Don’t worry Toby, Mom and Dad will always protect you.” Hearing his parents’ words, Toby felt a wave of warmth in his heart.
The next day, when Wendy entered the ward, she saw a heartwarming scene of my parents surrounding Toby. She felt it a bit harsh to her eyes, because she had never seen my parents treat me like that.
“Wendy, you’re here. Toby’s heart is all thanks to you.” My parents focused only on thanking Wendy, never mentioning me.
Wendy asked if there was any news about me.
As soon as my parents heard my name, their faces fell, “Why care about him? He’s already discharged, meaning he’s fine. Better focus more on Toby.”
“Toby has always been weak since he was little, while Alan has always been strong as a bull.” My parents had always wanted to pair Toby with Wendy, but because of Toby’s health, they never said it aloud.
Now that I was out of the picture and Wendy was about to divorce with me, they could finally make it happen.
Before Wendy could say anything, a colleague walked in, “Dr. Wat is so good to her husband, coming to guard him every day.”
Hearing this, my parents assumed it was a done deal, while Toby blushed slightly.
But Wendy’s face showed anger instead, “Who told you he’s my husband?”
The colleague didn’t notice Wendy’s expression and laughed, “Everyone in the department knows. Don’t pretend anymore.” After saying that, she hurried off to work.
My parents pulled Wendy aside, “Wendy, since Alan isn’t around and everyone thinks Toby is your husband, they’ll take better care of him.”
Seeing Toby’s pale face, Wendy forced down her anger.
Back in the office, before Wendy could find that colleague to ask questions, someone said her mentor had arrived. Hearing this, Wendy quickly ran to the director’s office.
The moment she saw EdisonSally, Wendy rushed up and shake hands with him, “Dr.Sally, it’s been so many years, how’s your health?”
Edison nodded, then smiled and looked Wendy up and down. “I heard you performed a heart transplant. Truly the student surpasses the mentor.”
Edison then reminisced about when he had operated on young Wendy and how she had now inherited his legacy as an adult.
Wendy froze in place, “Dr.Sally, what surgery are you talking about?”
Edison hadn’t expected such a reaction from Wendy, “The heart transplant surgery, the one you had when you were a child.”
The office fell silent for a moment before someone rushed in,
“Dr. Wat, come quickly! The family members at ward 32 are fighting!”
Hearing ward 32, Wendy immediately thought of Toby. She dashed to the ward.
As soon as she entered, she heard someone shouting, “How dare you deny it! My nephew donated his heart to your daughter!”
Wendy rushed forward and separated the two people.
Upon seeing Wendy, Myra, Wendy’s mother, her eyes turned red with grievance. The other person, after being pulled apart, pointed at Wendy and shouted again, “It’s you! My nephew Alan’s heart is inside you!”
Wendy stared at the person in disbelief, suddenly remembering my words, “What’s going on here?”
🌟 Continue the story here
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After giving birth to five stillborn children, I raised my stepson as my own for eighteen years. However, after my stepson graduated from college, my husband brought back his ex-wife. When he asked me to serve as a nanny for their family of three, I finally realized this marriage had been a scam all along. My stepson suffered from a rare heart condition, and my husband’s sole purpose in marrying me was to have me give birth to a matching heart donor. My five children had all been murdered by my husband’s own hands. Upon learning the truth, I carefully devised a revenge plan to make both my husband and stepson pay the price.
*****
After I gave birth to my fifth stillborn child, my husband Wyatt Patel brought home his six-year-old stepson Logan Patel. He told me that from now on, this child would treat me as his biological mother. Since then, I devoted myself to caring for Logan for eighteen years.
Just as Logan graduated from college that year, Wyatt brought his ex-wife Victoria Flores back home. When their family of three reunited, I finally realized that my marriage had been nothing but an elaborate deception.
It turned out that Logan had a rare heart condition and they couldn’t find a suitable heart donor match. So Wyatt married me. Over five years, I became pregnant with five children, and all five of those children became tools to find a heart match for Logan. Yet I spent eighteen years feeling guilty about giving birth to five stillborn babies.
The day Wyatt brought Victoria home, I was cooking in the kitchen. He casually ordered me, “Victoria will be living with us starting today. Move your things to the guest room. From now on, she’ll be staying in the master bedroom.”
My hands suddenly froze, and I stared at Wyatt in disbelief. The food in the pot quickly burned, filling the air with a acrid smell.
Wyatt sniffed and frowned with displeasure. “Stop cooking for now and go clean up the room. Victoria’s been shopping all day and she’s tired. She needs to rest.”
Then he pulled out a list of requirements and slammed it down on the dining table. “Victoria has high standards for quality of life. Prepare everything for her according to what’s written on this list.”
I picked up the list and looked it over, finding it densely packed with items. Everything had to be the finest quality—it was incredibly extravagant. I smiled bitterly and asked, “Wyatt, do you realize what you’re saying?”
Did he really mean that not only would he be living with his ex-wife, but he was also forcing me, his current wife, to give up the master bedroom to them? What did that make me? Was I supposed to be their live-in maid?
At that moment, Victoria feigned concern and said with a smile, “Wyatt, forget it. If Athena doesn’t want me to move in, I can just stay at a hotel.” Athena Brown is my name. After a pause, she continued, “After all, I’ve already endured eighteen years of this. I don’t mind enduring a few more days.”
Hearing her words, Wyatt’s brow furrowed deeply. His eyes filled with sympathy for Victoria. Then Wyatt said to me, “Athena, when you gave birth to five stillborn children, I had no choice but to bring my son with Victoria home to keep you company. You’re the reason they were separated for eighteen years. This is what you owe Victoria.”
I was instantly speechless. Back then, he was the one who voluntarily brought Logan home. Why was I now being painted as the villain who caused their mother and son to be separated?
Wyatt kept going: “Although Victoria and I divorced, she’s still my original wife. In the old days, you would have had to serve her properly. Now I’m just asking you to give up the master bedroom—are you really unwilling to do even that?”
He acted as if I had received some great favor. Victoria just smiled at me quietly, as if to say, “Now do you believe me?”
I stood there stunned, fear coursing through my entire body. No one knew that Victoria had approached me alone a few days earlier. She told me she was getting back together with Wyatt and that I should be smart, pack my things, and leave this house. I thought she was talking nonsense and started to walk away.
But Victoria blocked my path and asked, “Do you really think those five children you gave birth to over the years were all stillborn?”
Then she showed me five videos. Although the footage was somewhat blurry, I could still make out Wyatt’s face. In all five videos, he was holding a living baby, walking from the delivery room into another operating room.
I was stunned. Could those babies have been my five children? My five children were clearly alive—why did Wyatt tell me they had all died?
After enjoying the sight of my distress long enough, Victoria finally revealed the truth with cold composure: “Logan has a rare heart condition, and we’ve never been able to find a suitable heart match for him. That’s why Wyatt married you. He wanted to use your womb to produce a child who could provide a heart transplant for our son. But we never expected you to be so useless—it took you five whole pregnancies to finally produce one child whose heart could match Logan’s.”
I kept shaking my head, finding this too absurd to believe. I refused to accept that Wyatt could be so cruel. I rushed home to confront him, only to be told he was away on business. I spent the next few days in agony, waiting for his return so I could demand the truth. But when he finally came back, he brought Victoria with him.
Wyatt said, “Athena, you haven’t given the Patel family a single child. Victoria and I will have to rely on our son Logan to take care of us in our old age. If you behave yourself now, your life might be easier when you’re older.”
I snapped back to reality and stared at him. “Is it really true that I can’t have children? Did the five stillborn babies I delivered really die at birth?”
Wyatt replied, “Of course they did.”
He unconsciously touched his nose—a habit of his when lying. My heart raced as overwhelming helplessness consumed me. He really had killed our five children! The next moment, my legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor.
But Wyatt thought I was just trying to get his attention. He let out a disdainful laugh: “Athena, we’re not kids anymore. Stop playing these childish games. I’m taking Victoria out to dinner tonight. You’d better do some soul-searching. I expect the master bedroom to be cleared out by the time I get home.”
The door slammed shut, and my tears finally began to fall. The husband I loved so deeply was the murderer of my five children, and he had only married me to produce a transplant tool for his child with his ex-wife. I couldn’t accept this reality and collapsed on the floor, letting out anguished screams.
Just then, Logan opened the front door and asked, “Why isn’t dinner ready yet?”
Seeing me collapsed on the floor, Logan was startled: “Why are you sitting on the ground? Where’s Dad?”
I didn’t respond. After all, my five children had died to save him—they never even got the chance to call me “Mom”—yet I had lovingly cared for Logan for eighteen years.
Logan called out several times in succession: “Mom! Mom! Mom!”
I hesitated, then responded anyway. The child was innocent, after all, and I couldn’t bring myself to be so heartless toward Logan, whom I had personally raised for eighteen years.
But after hearing my response, Logan frowned unhappily: “Ms. Brown, I was calling my mother. Why did you answer?”
Logan’s look of disgust was identical to Wyatt’s. I froze, trembling as I asked him, “What did you just call me?”
Logan said, “Hasn’t Dad told you yet? My real mom has moved in to live with us. To keep things clear, I’ll call her ‘Mom’ from now on, and I’ll call you ‘Ms. Brown.’”
He said it as if it were nothing. My heart ached with anger, but Logan kept twisting the knife: “Ms. Brown, our family is finally reunited. You’d better not bully my mom.”
Looking at him, I suddenly found myself speechless. This was the child Wyatt had once promised would treat me like his real mother. I felt like I had never truly known him at all.
Just then, Wyatt and Victoria returned. Wyatt complained, “What rotten luck—we got splashed with dirty water on our way out.”
Victoria added, “My phone got damaged when I dropped it.”
Seeing them, Logan instantly became excited and rushed over to them.
He said, “Dad, Mom, you’re finally back from your date. You two are still so in love.”
Wyatt lovingly patted his head and said, “You little rascal! How dare you tease your parents? If we weren’t in love, how would we have you?”
Victoria also showed Logan maternal affection, saying, “You’re still so reckless. Look at you, all sweaty. Let me wipe that off for you.”
Logan buried his head in Victoria’s arms: “Mom, you’re the only one who cares about me. Ms. Brown didn’t even notice I was sweating.”
Wyatt said, “Well, she’s never had children, so she doesn’t understand these things. Now that you have your real mother by your side, it won’t be like that anymore.”
His hurtful words pierced my heart one by one. I wanted to leave, but inadvertently caught sight of the charm on Victoria’s phone. At that moment, I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cellar, chilled to the bone. Victoria shouted, “Athena, why are you grabbing my phone?”
Holding the phone, I looked at Wyatt and Logan with a pale smile: “Don’t you owe me an explanation?”
The charm on Victoria’s phone was a protective amulet I had personally bought for Wyatt and Logan. After giving birth to my fifth stillborn child, I had nightmares every night. After raising Logan, my nightmares became even worse. I was afraid I was an unlucky person, destined never to have children in this lifetime, and even more afraid that Logan would suffer misfortune because of me. So, starting from Logan’s first Christmas in my care, I would go to the church every Christmas to buy protective amulets. I prayed to God to keep Logan safe, prayed that God wouldn’t take away any more of my children. Ever since Wyatt had that car accident, I also made it a habit to buy him a protective amulet every Christmas. This Christmas, when I went to buy the amulets, I unfortunately encountered a flash flood and nearly died on the mountain. The two protective amulets I had risked my life to buy were now in Victoria’s hands, casually hanging on her phone case. I was trembling with rage. Logan, however, pointed at Victoria’s phone and said nonchalantly, “You mean this charm? I didn’t really want to give it to my mom, since it was something you gave me after all.”
I asked, “Then why did you give it to her anyway?”
My expression softened slightly. No matter what, Logan still treasured the things I gave him. But Logan said, “You’ve had five stillborn babies, so you’re definitely an unlucky person. How could I dare give my mom something you gave me? If my mom hadn’t insisted on having it, I never would have given it to her.”
His words struck my heart like lightning, the pain making it hard to breathe. The next second, Wyatt frowned and snatched Victoria’s phone, then roughly removed the protective amulet. He said, “Could this amulet have stolen your good luck? You need to throw it away! How dare you want something bought by an unlucky person?”
Victoria playfully stuck out her tongue. Despite being middle-aged, she still put on the coquettish act of a young girl: “I’ll listen to you from now on, okay?”
I looked at them coldly, my heart already numb. After a long while, I finally said quietly, “Wyatt, let’s get divorced.”
Upon hearing my words, everyone looked at me as if I were being unreasonable. Wyatt glared at me and asked, “Athena, do you know what you’re saying? You caused Victoria and Logan to be separated for eighteen years. I just want to let this mother and son reunite. Are you so unwilling that you’d even threaten me with divorce?”
Logan also stepped in front of Victoria, taking a protective stance. He glared at me with hatred and asked, “Dad, you’re not really going to abandon me and my mom again for Ms. Brown, are you?”
Wyatt immediately replied, “Never! Athena is an orphan who’s had five stillborn children, so her mind is inevitably twisted. She can’t stand to see others reunited with their families. But I will absolutely never abandon you two because of her.”
The three of them looked like such a warm, happy family, while I felt like an outsider who could never fit in. But Wyatt had pursued me relentlessly back then. He said he wanted to give me a home, wanted to have more children with me, and let me experience the warmth of family. I was so caught up in his sweet words that I didn’t care he’d been divorced once before, and I agreed to marry him. I never imagined this marriage was a scam from the very beginning. All five of my children became someone else’s “nourishment.” And my status as an “orphan” became his weapon to attack me. Thinking of this, I trembled as I slapped Wyatt hard across the face.
Wyatt stared at me in disbelief for a moment. After snapping back to reality, he immediately darkened his expression and dragged me in front of the mirror. He said, “Athena, what the hell are you making a fuss about? Take a good look at yourself. You’re not young anymore. Without me, you probably wouldn’t even have a place to live.”
He threatened further, “You’d better serve our family of three properly. That way, I might still give you something to eat. Otherwise, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”
After saying this, Wyatt shoved my hand away, and I collapsed to the floor again. Logan rolled his eyes at me. He said, “Ms. Brown, stop making a scene. Go cook dinner. My mom loves grilled ribs.”
I looked at Wyatt and Logan in silence.
Victoria stood behind them, giving me a contemptuous smile. Looking at her elegant attire, then turning to see my haggard reflection in the mirror, I finally couldn’t take it anymore and ran out. But Wyatt’s voice followed me closely, impossible to shake off. He said, “She won’t last more than a few days. Once she can’t stand the hardship and comes back, she’ll obediently serve as our nanny.”
I stayed at a motel for one night. First thing the next morning, I rushed to find a divorce lawyer. Over the years, Wyatt’s career had become increasingly successful. Even if we were getting divorced, I had to get something back from him. This was the price he should pay for deceiving me for twenty-three years. But the lawyer looked at me seriously and said, “Ms. Brown, your marriage certificate is fake.”
I froze in place, unable to move. Just then, Victoria sent me a message. I opened my phone and the first thing I saw were five photos of dead babies. Victoria’s messages popped up immediately after.
[Stop obsessing over my son. If you really miss children that much, look at your own kids—though they’re already dead.]
I stared at those five photos of the children, my heart feeling like it was being torn apart. Victoria’s messages kept popping up.
[I bet you didn’t know—Wyatt and I never got divorced.]
[The divorce papers he showed you back then were fake, and the place where you two got your marriage certificate was fake too. You idiot actually believed it.]
[Back then, after your useless self gave birth to the fifth child who could finally match Logan’s blood type, Wyatt wanted to kick you out immediately. But later, he felt sorry for me being so tired taking care of the child, so he decided to continue this fake marriage with you.]
[For the past eighteen years, every time he told you he was going on a business trip, he was actually with me.]
Below these messages were various travel photos Victoria had sent. My hands trembled as I held the phone. While I was racking my brains over Logan’s education, they had traveled to famous landmarks across half the world. I don’t know how I walked out of that law office. Looking at the flowing river before me, I felt like my entire life had been a complete failure. Thinking of my five dead children, my heart ached like it was being cut by knives. I even thought, “Maybe I should just jump in and join my children.”
But just as I closed my eyes, ready to jump into the river, a pair of hands stopped me.
I heard someone shouting: “Athena, I finally found you.”
Someone else called out: “Ms. Brown, why did you run so far?”
I opened my eyes to see Wyatt and Logan. They grabbed my hands and started dragging me back. On the way, Wyatt said: “You need to come with me to Logan’s company and apologize.”
From their conversation, I learned that Victoria had offended Logan’s boss, Ruby Brooks. Last night, Ruby had sent Logan a message, and Victoria saw it. Mistaking Ruby for a woman trying to seduce Logan, Victoria cursed at her and deleted Ruby’s contact information without permission. This morning, Logan walked into the office only to be reprimanded by Ruby and even faced the risk of losing his job. That’s when Wyatt and Logan thought of me—they wanted me to apologize on Victoria’s behalf.
Logan said to me: “Mom, when we get to the office, you need to apologize to my boss and beg for her forgiveness.”
I laughed sarcastically. Now he was calling me “Mom” again. I yanked my hand free and said firmly: “I’m not going! Victoria is your mother—go find her!”
Wyatt frowned and said: “Athena, stop throwing a tantrum.”
He covered my mouth and forcibly dragged me to Ruby’s office. Wyatt said: “Ms. Brooks, this is my wife. I brought her here to apologize to you.”
Ruby looked puzzled as she watched them covering my mouth. Logan quickly explained: “Ms. Brooks, this is my mother. Ever since she had five stillbirths, she’s had some mental issues. She’s extremely protective of me, her only son, and constantly fears that others will take me away from her.”
Logan shamelessly used my most painful experience to attack me. I was so furious that I let out a low growl from my throat, which only seemed to confirm his claim that I was “mentally unstable.” Logan continued: “Ms. Brooks, my mother screams and shouts like this whenever she has an episode. That’s why we’re covering her mouth—we didn’t want her voice to disturb you. Now let her apologize to you.”
As soon as Logan finished speaking, Wyatt kicked me in the knee and forced me to apologize. Finally, Ruby couldn’t stand watching this absurd charade any longer and put a stop to it.
After they dragged me out of the company building, Wyatt finally released his grip on my hand. He patted my head like he was patting a dog, then said: “Athena, you helped Logan solve a big problem today. I won’t hold yesterday’s incident against you.”
Then Wyatt generously transferred $100,000 to my phone. He said: “Take this money and buy some necessities for Victoria. Keep whatever’s left as my gift to you. From now on, let’s just live peacefully as a family of four.”
With that, they drove off quickly.
I, Grace Reid, gave birth twenty days before my due date.
After being wheeled into the operating room for two hours, I delivered a lifeless fetus.
I didn’t cry, didn’t make a scene, didn’t even glance at the tiny corpse.
Enduring the pain from my wounds, I calmly walked into the nursery, locked the door tight, and turned down the temperature.
In one more hour, the nursery would become too cold for any newborn to survive.
All the doctors and parents stood outside the nursery door, begging me to spare their children’s lives.
They shouted with all their strength, saying I was a mother too and hoping I could understand their feelings.
But I just smiled. “I am indeed a mother, but the child I just delivered is dead.”
An obstetrician cried at the door, pleading with me, “We may be responsible for not saving your child. But these newborns are innocent.
Please don’t become extreme because you lost your baby. You’re still so young—you can have other children.”
I gritted my teeth and roared at her, “But my child isn’t dead at all!
She’s still alive. I’m giving you one hour to bring her to me.”
Because I wasn’t sure if my child would still be alive after one hour.
*****
The nursery door remained tightly shut, while my husband Felix Campbell, wearing his white coat, stood outside looking frantic.
He suddenly slapped himself across the face.
Then Felix shouted to me, “Grace, it’s my fault—I failed to save our child.”
He continued, “I know losing the baby devastates you. This child wasn’t meant to be with us. We can have another. But if something happens to you, I truly won’t be able to live.”
Felix looked desperate, almost ready to cry.
But I kept staring at him with cold, indifferent eyes.
Felix and I had been married for three years. He’d taken excellent care of me, considering every detail thoughtfully.
As the head of obstetrics, after learning I was pregnant, he monitored every aspect of my health closely.
Yet today, this same Felix who had successfully treated patients with amniotic fluid embolism told me he couldn’t save our child.
I had delivered a stillborn.
But throughout my pregnancy, all my check-ups showed the baby was perfectly healthy. Three weeks ago, the fetus was already fully developed.
Forget being born twenty days early—even if I had delivered three weeks ago, the baby would have survived completely.
I absolutely refused to believe my child was dead.
Especially since when I was barely conscious, I clearly heard that child crying.
I looked at Felix suspiciously, then said with barely controlled trembling in my voice, “With your abilities, why couldn’t you save even a premature baby?”
“Grace, I’m incompetent.” Felix said through tears. “Premature birth causes too much damage to infants. I really did everything I could.”
Then a man said, “Grace, losing a baby due to premature birth is unavoidable sometimes.
You must try to accept this. You’re still young. You’ll definitely have other children.”
The other medical staff standing beside Felix also anxiously tried to persuade me.
The parents of those newborns pleaded with red-rimmed eyes. One woman said, “Grace, we feel terrible for you and your child too.
But our babies are innocent. You know what it feels like to be a mother. Please spare our children.
If you have doubts about your baby’s death, you should question your husband and these medical staff. This really has nothing to do with our children.”
As they continued pleading, the temperature in the nursery began dropping slowly.
Some people started trying to cut power to the nursery, hoping to stop the temperature from falling further.
But I had already modified this department’s electrical system. The entire room’s cooling system was controlled only by the device in my hands.
With just a light touch of the controls, the room temperature would plummet suddenly, and these children would freeze to death.
Seeing that cutting the power didn’t work, they all stared at me with terrified eyes.
One newborn’s mother directly pleaded, “Grace, I’m a lawyer. I can represent your child’s case for free and get you justice.
Please give me back my baby.”
I told her, “My child doesn’t need justice—she just needs to come back to me.”
My breathing became rapid as I shouted outside, “My child isn’t dead at all!
I clearly remember hearing her cry. If I delivered a stillborn, how could she have cried?”
“When you just gave birth, the anesthesia hadn’t worn off yet, so experiencing blurred consciousness is completely normal,” someone outside answered me.
But I shook my head and said, “No, that’s not right. Because it was premature, the situation was too urgent. I didn’t have time for any pain medication.”
Felix quickly explained to me: “Grace, many babies are born in the hospital every day. Isn’t it normal for you to hear crying?”
Hearing his words, I began to hesitate. It was indeed normal to hear baby cries in the delivery room.
But that crying was too close to me, making me feel like it was my child crying.
I slowly turned my gaze to Felix. Only then did I realize that after I said “the baby might have been switched,” he didn’t doubt it at all. Instead, he kept telling me the baby was stillborn.
I looked at him suspiciously and asked tentatively, “That crying was too close to me. Was it the baby from the bed next to mine?”
“It was exactly the baby from the bed next to yours crying,” Felix answered without hesitation.
But I was stunned, because there was no one giving birth in the bed next to mine.
I stared at Felix in shock, my body trembling uncontrollably.
Why was Felix lying to me?
Seeing me frown, Felix thought I believed his words. He reached out his hand to me and said, “Grace, please come out from inside. Let’s properly prepare a funeral for the baby. Once you’ve rested, we’ll try to get pregnant again. We’ll definitely have another child.”
I clenched my fists, gritted my teeth, and let out a cold laugh before asking him: “Felix, where exactly did you take our child? That’s your child too. Why are you lying to me? Who did you give my baby to?”
Felix hurriedly said, “Grace, what do you mean? How could I possibly take away our child? Don’t you even trust what I’m saying?”
I shouted angrily at Felix: “I don’t believe you. My child isn’t dead. You’re lying to me!”
After saying this, I yanked down the electrical switch that controlled the newborn nursery’s temperature.
The room temperature dropped instantly. With red eyes, I looked at the panicked people outside.
I said, “I’m giving you one hour to return my child to me. Otherwise, we’ll all die together.”
Discovering that I had actually pulled the switch, the people outside immediately panicked.
Someone shouted at me: “What does your husband lying to you have to do with my child?”
Another person said: “Felix, where exactly did you put your child? Do you really have to drag my child into this too?”
Someone else tried to reason with me: “Grace, please calm down. As long as you can guarantee our children will be safe, we’ll definitely help you find your child.”
Additionally, someone shouted anxiously at Felix: “Felix, tell us what’s really going on. There are thirty children in here. If anything happens to them, can your hospital take responsibility?”
Felix shouted anxiously at me: “Grace, please calm down first. Our child really has passed away. Don’t say one hour – even if you gave me a hundred hours, I couldn’t bring the child back to you.”
I stared at Felix with icy eyes.
Actually, it wasn’t that I was giving them one hour – I only had one hour.
Because when my consciousness was blurred, I heard an unfamiliar voice say: “One hour will be enough.”
I didn’t know what my child would experience during this hour. I only knew that after one hour, my child might truly not survive.
“Jackson, you’re finally here. Please talk some sense into Grace!” Felix said.
His voice snapped me back to attention.
My white-haired father Jackson Reid had rushed over anxiously. I quickly cried out to him: “Dad, please go find my child! She’s in this hospital, hidden away somewhere. I’m certain she’s still alive! There are fifty minutes left now. If we can’t find her, she’ll really die! Don’t believe what Felix is saying. What I gave birth to wasn’t stillborn at all. Felix and they are working together!”
Jackson suddenly slapped Felix across the face.
Then he roared at Felix in fury: “You animal! You knew Grace couldn’t handle the news of the baby’s death. Why didn’t you watch her properly? Look what you’ve done to my daughter!”
I quickly explained to Jackson: “Dad, I’m not crazy. My baby really isn’t dead! You’ve been handling my prenatal checkups all along—you know this. Even if I gave birth three weeks ago, it would have been a healthy baby.”
But Jackson looked at me with guilt written all over his face.
He said: “Grace, actually, your prenatal reports didn’t show the baby was completely healthy. The fetus had some problems all along. But I was too arrogant, thinking I could secretly help fix things, so I didn’t tell you the truth about the baby’s condition. However, I failed to correct the issues. That child was indeed stillborn.”
I was completely stunned. Both my parents are obstetricians, and I’m their only daughter. They cared for me during my pregnancy even more than Felix did. Jackson, who has always adored me, would never lie to me. Could I really have given birth to a stillborn baby?
I placed both hands on my lower abdomen as the sound of a baby’s cry echoed in my mind again. I furrowed my brow as a tear rolled down my cheek.
I asked: “Maybe this baby and I really weren’t meant to be. Dad, with all your years of experience, was this baby beautiful?”
Jackson’s eyes filled with tears as he nodded: “This baby looked just like you as a child—such smooth skin, especially the hands. They were exactly like yours when you were little, with all ten fingers tightly clenched.”
I instantly tensed up, my whole body going numb as I stared at Jackson in disbelief.
I screamed at Jackson: “Dad, so you’re lying to me too! Why are you deceiving me just like Felix? What is it that you can’t tell me? Why did you take my baby away?”
Jackson was stunned and said: “Grace, you’re my only daughter. How could I possibly lie to you?”
I broke down laughing hysterically.
Then I said: “That’s right. You handled most of my prenatal checkups throughout my pregnancy. But there was one time when I was traveling, and I had a friend who’s also an obstetrician do an examination. What I didn’t expect was that my friend discovered my baby had six fingers. My friend said that because the baby kept its fists clenched during all the previous exams, the doctors never noticed this condition.”
Jackson quickly explained: “That kind of examination can easily be misread. How can you suspect me over something like this?”
I roared: “Am I the one who wants to suspect you? You’re all lying to me!”
My screaming woke up the babies in the nursery. Weak cries of infants could be heard from the room.
The parents of the other newborns outside were extremely worried about their children. They kept crying while trying to comfort me, and pleaded with Jackson to tell the truth.
But Jackson still insisted that what I gave birth to was a stillborn baby.
I took a deep breath, then lifted my head as tears streamed down my cheeks.
I glanced at the clock overhead and said: “You have twenty minutes left. It seems you’d rather bear the consequences of thirty lives than return my baby to me. What reason could possibly make you willing to watch me die along with thirty newborns rather than give me back my child?”
Everyone around us pressed Jackson and Felix for the truth, but both men maintained that my baby had died long ago.
Left with no choice, everyone decided to call the police.
But just as one of the mothers was about to dial the emergency number, my mother Mila Reid suddenly rushed over and snatched the phone from her hands.
Mila said: “My daughter is just a bit emotional. She’s simply a mother who just lost her child. I’ll talk to her. Please, I’m begging you not to call the police.”
After saying this, Mila looked at me with tears in her eyes and said: “Stop being foolish and come back to me.”
But I asked her: “Mom, can I trust you?”
Mila froze for a moment and said, “Of course you can trust me. You’re my child, you’re my life.”
She would even give her life for me. How could she not love me?
I asked Mila, “Mom, would you believe everything I tell you?”
Mila answered, “Of course I would.”
Hearing Mila’s unhesitating response, I immediately told her, “My child is still alive, and he’s in this hospital right now. Dad and Felix both know the truth, but they won’t help save my child. I only have twenty minutes left. If you help me find my child, I’ll honestly turn myself in. I never meant to kill anyone, and I certainly never meant to kidnap these children. I just want to find my child.”
Mila paused slightly, looking toward Jackson and Felix.
She frowned and said, “Grace, if all of this is true, I want to help you find your child too. But Grace, I was so worried about complications during your delivery that I specifically requested to assist with your birth. I watched you give birth with my own eyes. Felix wouldn’t dare mess around. I personally watched Felix remove a stillborn baby from your belly.”
Mila spoke with complete sincerity, but I stood there stunned.
Did I really give birth to a stillborn baby?
Mila continued, “I know you’re heartbroken and can’t accept this reality. If you dare, I’ll take you to see the surveillance footage. Once you see it with your own eyes, you won’t keep obsessing over finding your child.”
Then Mila reached out her hand toward me and said, “Come back.”
I stood there numbly, staring blankly at Mila, then walked step by step toward the entrance of the neonatal unit.
But just as I was about to reach the door, I suddenly noticed the bloodstains on Mila’s clothes.
I immediately stopped and said, “No. You’re lying to me too! When I was giving birth, another woman was hemorrhaging badly. You left my delivery room. I remember it clearly. Mom, why? What secret are you all hiding from me? Why did you replace my child with a stillborn baby?”
Mila stood there stunned in surprise and said, “How could I bear to replace your child with a stillborn baby? Grace, what are you talking about? If you don’t trust me, surely you trust the surveillance footage?”
I let out a cold laugh and said, “If my own family can lie to me, what about some cold machine?”
At that moment, the ten-minute countdown alarm sounded. I turned back to look at the children in the neonatal unit.
I said, “Since you all want my child to die, then we’ll all die together.”
The people outside immediately became tense.
They begged Jackson and Mila to tell me the truth and release their children.
Some people cried out to me, “Grace, if they won’t help you investigate, we will. Please spare our children.”
I smiled bitterly and said, “I don’t have time to investigate anymore.”
I took a deep breath and placed my hand on the temperature control device.
Countless anguished cries came from outside the neonatal unit door.
But just as I was about to lower the temperature, a voice came from the crowd.
It was a man’s voice: “I know where your real child is.”
The moment the exam bell screamed, my admission ticket vanished.
In the pouring rain, the help my mother offered me was, unbelievably, my twin sister’s ID!
“Use her identity for the exam!”
She pleaded, her words—laced with the supposed unbreakable bond of family—tightening around my throat.
Five years of my life’s dedication instantly became a mere stepping stone for my sister! In the heavy rain, an icy chill pierced me to the bone!
But this time, I wouldn’t be a pawn in their game any longer.
If they wanted to steal my future, then with this stolen identity, I would personally lift them to the highest heights.
And then… watch them shatter into a million pieces.
1
The admission bell for the National Board Exam for Licensed Architects echoed sharply through the torrential rain.
I stood under the eaves outside the exam hall, body numb with cold.
My heart, however, felt like it was being roasted over an open flame, so anxious it threatened to explode.
Both my exam permit and ID card were gone! Just completely vanished!
That clear file folder, holding five years of my relentless effort and countless sleepless nights, had disappeared into thin air.
I frantically rummaged through every pocket on my person, but came up empty.
Rainwater dripped from my hair, mixing with the tears blurring my vision.
“Don’t panic, don’t panic…”
I mumbled to myself, my hands trembling as I borrowed a phone from a kind student nearby and dialed my mom’s number.
On the other end, my mom’s voice sounded even more panicked than mine:
“What? It’s gone? Aurora! How could you lose something so important… Wait there, I’ll bring it right over!”
Hanging up, I stared at the bright red countdown clock by the exam hall entrance: 3:00 PM.
Only fifteen minutes left until the exam ended.
I studied architecture. This exam would determine the trajectory of my entire professional career.
For it, I’d turned down every project at my company, locked myself in my room for a whole year, sketching drawings that piled higher than I was tall.
A taxi suddenly tore through the rain curtain, screeching to a halt at the roadside.
My mom rushed out, heedless of her appearance, her hair plastered to her face in wet strands.
She clutched a file folder tightly to her chest, as if protecting a priceless treasure.
“Aurora, hurry! Take it!”
She shoved the folder into my hands, panting.
I was so grateful I almost cried. But when I shakily opened the folder and pulled out the exam permit and ID card, my entire body froze.
The person in the photo had a face identical to mine.
But the name was Celeste.
My twin sister, Celeste.
“Mom… you made a mistake, this is Celeste’s.”
My voice was as dry as sandpaper.
My mom’s eyes flickered for a second, then she quickly pulled me aside to a more secluded corner.
Her voice dropped to a near whisper, laced with an undeniable plea:
“Aurora, there’s no time left, just use Celeste’s identity to go in and take the exam.”
I stared at her in disbelief:
“What did you say?”
“Your sister…”
My mom’s eyes instantly welled up,
“Her heart condition has worsened again. The doctor said she can’t handle any more stress, she needs complete rest, and more importantly… hope. She registered too, but with her health, how could she possibly endure such a high-pressure exam?”
The rain was heavy, but every word my mom spoke felt like a poison-tipped needle, accurately piercing my heart.
“Aurora, just help your mother, help your sister. Your grades are always so good; you can definitely pass if you retake it next year. But Celeste is different. She needs this certification to prove herself, it’s her motivation to live!”
Parents and students sheltering from the rain nearby vaguely overheard our conversation, casting sympathetic glances our way.
Someone even whispered in admiration:
“What a wonderful mother, such deep sisterly love.”
Sisterly love?
An icy chill shot from my feet straight to the top of my head.
My whole life, whatever Celeste wanted, I had to give up.
She liked my new dress, and my mom would say:
“Celeste isn’t well, wearing something pretty will lift her spirits, just let her have it.”
She admired a painting I’d won an award for, and my mom would say:
“It’s just a painting, let your sister hang it by her bed, it’ll bring more life to her room, don’t be so petty.”
Now, even my entire professional future, which I’d gambled everything on, had to be given to her.
Because she wasn’t well.
That reason, like a shackles, had bound me for twenty-five years.
“Mom, this is the exam I’ve been preparing for five years.”
I practically squeezed the words out through gritted teeth.
“I know, I know you’re upset.”
My mom gripped my arm tightly, her nails almost digging into my flesh:
“But your sister… she might not have another five years! Can’t you sacrifice just this once for her?”
“Ding—”
The final admission bell rang.
My mom abruptly pushed me, propelling me towards the exam hall entrance:
“Quick, go in! Aurora, I beg you! Your mother is begging you!”
Mr. Harrison, the invigilator, glanced at “Celeste” on the admission ticket, then looked up at me.
We were identical twins; we looked exactly alike. He didn’t suspect a thing, waving me inside.
I numbly walked into the exam hall, sat in “Celeste’s” assigned seat, my mind a complete blank.
My future, my life, in that moment, had been stolen by my own mother’s hand.
The moment the exam-ending bell rang, I was practically the first person to rush out of the hall.
The rain had stopped, and the sky was a dull gray, matching my mood.
I borrowed a phone again and called my mom, wanting to ask her where she had put my admission ticket.
The call connected, but the other end was noisy.
My mom’s voice was light, as if a huge burden had been lifted:
“Oh, Aurora, are you done with the exam? I’m with Celeste at the hospital right now; she said she felt a bit of chest tightness, so I rushed her here. You can just take a taxi home yourself, okay.”
The call was abruptly cut off.
I stood alone in the empty plaza, feeling like a joke abandoned by the whole world.
I hailed a taxi and rushed home.
The moment I pushed open the door, a wave of eerie silence washed over me.
Celeste’s bedroom door was slightly ajar.
I walked over and saw her leaning weakly against the headboard.
She was holding an architecture atlas, her face as pale as paper.
My exam permit and ID card lay quietly on her desk, next to her almost untouched study materials.
Seeing me, she flinched, her eyes filled with fear and a hint of almost imperceptible triumph:
“Sister… you’re back.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I stared at her, my voice trembling with fury,
“This was *my* exam!”
“I… I was scared…”
She bit her lower lip, wronged tears instantly welling up,
“Sister, I didn’t mean to, Mom… she said… she said this was the best gift for me…”
Just then, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Mom.
I thought it would be a greeting, even a fake one.
But the screen starkly displayed a line of text:
“Aurora, was the exam hard? How did you do? Make sure Celeste passes, this is her only hope for the rest of her life.”
Her only hope…
I looked at my phone screen, then at my sister on the bed, feigning vulnerability, and suddenly I laughed.
One of them planned, the other enjoyed. What did they take me for? A tool to fulfill their wishes?
What about *my* hope? Who would fulfill *my* hope?
I clutched my phone, my knuckles turning white from the force.
A crazy idea, for the first time, sprouted in my mind.
You want “Celeste” to pass the exam?
Fine.
I’ll grant your wish.
2
I decided to grant their wish.
Back home, I didn’t cry, nor did I throw a tantrum.
I simply walked calmly into Celeste’s room, retrieved my exam permit and ID card, and put them back in my wallet.
My composure seemed to scare them more than any hysteria could.
Celeste struggled to sit up from the bed, timidly tugging at my sleeve:
“Sister, don’t be angry…”
My mom also came in, cautiously observing my expression:
“Aurora, Mom knows you’re upset. But think about your sister, she…”
“Stop.”
I cut her off, my gaze slowly moving from her face to Celeste’s.
“You want me to take the exam using your identity? Fine.”
I saw a spark of surprise simultaneously erupt in their eyes.
“But,”
I changed my tone, my voice as cold as a surgeon’s scalpel,
“From today onwards, neither of you is to ever mention those three words to me again: ‘Celeste isn’t well.’ I don’t want to hear it.”
Celeste’s face turned pale.
My mom immediately nodded repeatedly:
“Alright, alright, we won’t mention it. Aurora, you really are Mom’s good daughter!”
She moved to hug me, but I instinctively sidestepped.
The hug missed, and my mom’s arms hung awkwardly in mid-air.
I didn’t look at them again, turning and returning to my room, closing the door.
Outside the door, I heard my mom let out a long sigh of relief, followed by her hushed words of comfort to Celeste:
“There, there, it’s okay, your sister agreed. Celeste, now your life has hope.”
I leaned against the cold door, smiling silently.
Yes, Celeste’s life had hope.
Hope bought with my future.
For the next two months, I became a precise studying machine. I meticulously re-organized everything I had learned in five years: all my painstaking notes, every rejected drawing, every summarized exam point.
I wasn’t doing it for myself, but to give “Celeste” an impeccable, perfect score.
I wanted the name “Celeste” to become a legendary overnight sensation in the architectural design world.
A perfect lie, built with my flesh and talent.
The day results were announced, my mom was even more nervous than I was, refreshing the computer screen again and again.
When the words “Celeste, Total Score 288, National Top Scorer” popped up, my mom was so excited she almost fainted on the spot.
288 was the highest score ever recorded in this National Board Exam for Licensed Architects.
She hugged Celeste, crying and laughing, and the phone at home immediately started ringing off the hook with congratulations from relatives and friends.
Celeste became the pride of our family, and even the entire extended family.
And I, Aurora, because I hadn’t taken the exam, had a blank space in my results column.
I became a deserter who abandoned the exam, a dim shadow under my sister’s dazzling halo.
No one asked me why I didn’t take it.
They were all too busy fawning over Celeste, the lucky one crowned “genius prodigy.”
At the celebratory family dinner, my mom, her face beaming with pride, boasted to everyone:
“Our Celeste, you know, she’s been talented since childhood, and her health isn’t good, we were always worried about her, but who would’ve thought, this child is so remarkable! She just went and got national first place!”
Celeste nestled beside her, displaying a shy yet graceful smile.
Occasionally, she would cast a complex look my way, containing guilt, boastfulness, and a hint of condescending pity.
I felt like an outsider, coldly observing this celebration meticulously planned for me, yet not belonging to me.
The red wine in my glass tasted like bitter blood.
September arrived in a flash, and Celeste was off to Northwood University – the country’s most prestigious architecture school.
Of course, using my achievements and her name.
In the VIP lounge at the airport, my mom kept fussing over Celeste:
“Northwood City can be chilly, did you pack enough clothes? Make sure you take your heart medication on time, and never push yourself too hard, okay?”
She turned, finally remembering me, but her tone was like instructing a servant:
“Aurora, what are you standing there for? Go buy your sister a hot drink, her stomach is sensitive, she can’t drink cold things.”
I nodded, turning without a word.
Just as I was heading towards the coffee bar near the lounge entrance, a clear, somewhat uncertain voice sounded behind me.
“Aurora?”
My footsteps froze in place, as if nailed to the ground, and all the blood in my body instantly turned to ice.
That voice…
I stiffly turned around, seeing a face I would never forget.
Liam Thorne.
He was dressed in a well-tailored casual suit, dragging a minimalist suitcase, standing not far away.
His handsome brows were slightly furrowed, his eyes filled with surprise and confusion.
He had been the star student during our university days, and my only true rival.
We had competed in our major for four years; from design drawings to models, every time we were neck and neck, impossible to tell who was better.
He was the person who knew my abilities best.
He had also taken this exam.
Why was he here?
Liam’s gaze swept past me, landing on the group behind me.
Celeste, like a princess, surrounded by my mom and several relatives.
He heard the excited conversations of the relatives.
“Celeste is such a genius! National top scorer for the architect’s exam!”
“Yes, and she’s off to Northwood University now, unlimited future!”
Liam’s eyes snapped back, focusing on me once more. The surprise and confusion in his gaze instantly deepened into a more profound scrutiny and suspicion.
That look seemed to ask: Aurora, the national top scorer they’re talking about is your twin sister? What about you? With your abilities, how could you not have won anything?
What in the world was going on?
3
Liam’s eyes were like two sharp probes, trying to peel back my calm facade and peer into the truth that had already festered within.
I couldn’t let him see it.
“Long time no see, Liam.”
I forced a smile, trying to keep my voice as light and natural as possible,
“Are you going to Northwood City too?”
“Yeah, my company has a project there.”
He nodded, but his gaze didn’t leave my face. That scrutiny made me feel like I was under intense observation.
“Aurora, I checked the exam results; your name wasn’t there. Did you… drop out?”
This question, like a bullet, accurately hit my weak spot.
I lowered my eyes, avoiding his overly sharp gaze, and mumbled a vague “Mm.”
“Something came up, so I couldn’t make it.”
“Is that so?” Liam’s tone carried a hint of imperceptible doubt,
“I thought this year’s top scorer was going to be you, without a doubt.”
My heart gave a violent lurch.
“Sister, who are you talking to?”
Celeste’s voice cut in at just the right moment. She swayed over, naturally linked her arm through mine.
She gave Liam a sweet, harmless smile:
“Hello, I’m Aurora’s sister, Celeste.”
Liam’s gaze swept back and forth between my identical face and Celeste’s, his brow furrowing deeper.
“Hello, Liam Thorne. Your sister’s college classmate.”
He introduced himself simply, but his gaze returned to Celeste, carrying a professional scrutiny,
“I hear you’re this year’s national top scorer?”
“Y-yes… that’s right.”
Celeste’s smile stiffened slightly, and she instinctively tried to hide behind me,
“Just lucky.”
“Lucky?”
Liam chuckled softly, his laugh carrying a hint of mockery,
“Miss Celeste, are you also an architecture student? Which university did you graduate from, if I may ask?”
At that question, Celeste’s face instantly went white.
She had studied nursing in college.
Because of her heart condition, my mom had said it was an easy major, convenient for taking care of others, and for being taken care of.
Her knowledge of architecture was limited to looking at a few pretty atlases; she didn’t even understand basic architectural mechanics.
My mom immediately sensed her daughter’s predicament and quickly stepped in to smooth things over:
“Oh my, sir, why are you asking so many questions? Our Celeste has always been smart since she was little, isn’t it alright if she’s self-taught? We’re about to board, so let’s not chat anymore, alright?”
With that, she pulled Celeste, almost fleeing towards the boarding gate.
Before she was pulled away, Celeste glanced back at Liam, her eyes extremely complex.
There was panic, embarrassment, and even a trace of… imperceptible admiration.
My heart sank.
Only Liam and I were left in the waiting room, and the atmosphere instantly turned heavy.
“Aurora,”
Liam stepped forward, closing the distance between us, his voice low, carrying an unquestionable dominance,
“Tell me, what’s going on?”
I was cornered, my back against the cold glass wall.
“Nothing, it’s just as you see it.”
I turned my face away, not daring to meet his eyes.
“As I see it?”
Liam suddenly scoffed,
“You expect me to believe that the Aurora I’ve known for four years—the one who would go three days and three nights without sleep for a single model, who had every code and diagram memorized backward and forward like a maniac—would hand over the national top score to a sister who’d spout nonsense like ‘self-taught genius’?”
Every word he spoke felt like a heavy hammer, pounding on my heart.
He knew, after all.
“Aurora, look at me.”
He cupped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze,
“I know a bit about your family situation. Are you in financial trouble? If so, I can help you. You don’t have to sacrifice your future for it.”
His eyes were so sincere, with a hint of urgency I’d never seen before.
For a moment, I almost broke down, wanting to tell him all my grievances and frustrations.
But reason ultimately triumphed over impulse.
What good would telling him do? Let him pity me? Feel sorry for me?
Or would it make him expose this lie, turning my family and me into an utter joke?
I took a deep breath, pushed him away forcefully, my eyes hardening into a cold, distant gaze once more.
“Liam, this is my family’s business, it has nothing to do with you.”
He stumbled back a step, his eyes filled with disbelief.
I didn’t give him a chance to question further, turning and walking away.
“Aurora!”
He called out behind me,
“If you ever need help, you can always find me. But if you dare use your talent to do something against your conscience, to uphold a lie, I will never let you off the hook!”
My steps faltered, but I didn’t turn back.
I was afraid if I did, all my pretense would disappear.
Leaving the airport, I walked aimlessly through the streets like a lost soul.
Having sent Celeste and my mom off, for the first time, I didn’t want to go home.
My phone rang. It was Mrs. Davis, my landlady.
“Aurora, when are you coming back to move your stuff out? The new tenant is moving in this afternoon.”
I was stunned:
“Mrs. Davis, what are you talking about? Didn’t we just pay the rent?”
“Pay what?!”
Mrs. Davis’s voice was loud,
“Your mom came by this morning, got a refund for the remaining rent, and said she wasn’t renting anymore, that she was going to Northwood City to accompany your sister for school and wouldn’t be coming back! She also said all your things weren’t needed and told me to dispose of them as I saw fit!”
*Boom!*
I felt like my entire world had exploded around my ears.
Not coming back?
All my things weren’t needed?
I had been abandoned.
After I personally put them on that plane, sending them towards a bright future paved with *my* efforts, they ruthlessly cut off all my escape routes.
They wouldn’t even leave me a home.
I hung up the phone, standing on the bustling street, and suddenly felt a dizzying wave of lightheadedness.
Just then, a black Bentley slowly pulled up in front of me.
The window rolled down, revealing Liam’s sharply defined face.
His eyes looked at me with a complex expression, as if he already knew everything.
He spoke softly, his voice quiet, yet it struck me like a thunderclap.
“Aurora, get in. I just acquired the design firm where you interned. From today on, I’m your new boss.”
4
I stood there dumbfounded, staring at the familiar yet strange face in the Bentley, my brain completely overwhelmed by the information overload.
Liam… acquired the design firm where I interned?
He became my new boss?
This was even more surreal than the landlady telling me I’d been kicked out.
“Get in.”
Liam’s voice was devoid of emotion, yet carried an undeniable command.
I mechanically pulled open the car door and got in.
The warm air conditioning and the scent of premium leather enveloped me, creating a stark contrast with my terrible predicament.
I felt like a clown who had stumbled into high society.
The car moved forward smoothly.
Liam didn’t ask why I was standing in the street, nor did he mention what had happened at the airport.
He just focused on driving, the lines of his profile appearing somewhat rigid in the city’s flowing lights and shadows.
“Where to?”
He finally spoke.
“I…”
Only then did I remember, I had nowhere to go.
The place I had lived for over twenty years had completely expelled me.
Seeing that I couldn’t speak for a while, Liam seemed to understand.
He didn’t press further, but drove the car into the underground garage of a high-end apartment complex.
“Stay here for now.”
He handed me an access card,
“Building 3, Apartment 1801. The password is your birthday. It’s a company-provided apartment for director-level employees, and it’s currently vacant.”
I clutched the cold card, feeling as if I were holding a hot iron.
“I can’t…”
“Why not?”
He cut me off, turning his head, his dark, deep eyes looking straight into mine.
“Aurora, put away your pathetic pride. You don’t even have a place to live right now. What position are you in to bargain with me?”
His words were like knives, accurately piercing my most vulnerable spot.
“What do you want?”
I looked up, meeting his gaze. I didn’t believe in selfless kindness in this world, especially from Liam.
He quirked his lips, revealing a meaningful smile:
“Simple. I need you to complete a project for me, one… that only you can complete.”
“What project?”
” ‘The Palace on the Clouds.’ ”
At these words, my pupils suddenly contracted.
“The Palace on the Clouds” was the most anticipated architectural project in the country for the past decade, located at the city’s highest point, touted as creating a sky garden suspended among the clouds.
The project was extremely difficult, with almost苛刻 requirements for designers.
Even when I was an intern, I’d heard that countless top domestic and international designers wanted to win it, but ultimately failed because their proposals couldn’t meet the investors’ demands.
The investor had only one requirement: it had to be stunning, disruptive, and create an unprecedented marvel.
“This project… didn’t it stall a long time ago?”
I murmured.
“That’s because they hadn’t found the right person.”
Liam’s gaze was fervent,
“And now, I have.”
He looked at me, saying each word distinctly:
“Aurora, I know you harbor a true ‘Palace on the Clouds’ in your heart. Your university graduation project, which your professors deemed ‘too idealistic to be realized,’ I still keep it to this day. Now, I want you to make it a reality.”
My heart skipped a beat.
That graduation project was the starting point of all my dreams, and the culmination of all my talent.
I had named it “Floating Light,” a truly integrated aerial building.
Everyone at the time said I was a whimsical dreamer, but only Liam, after the defense, said to me:
“Your idea is very bold, but in the future, it might not be impossible to achieve.”
I hadn’t expected him to remember.
“Why me?”
I asked.
“Because the current investor for this project is the Dean Emeritus of Northwood University’s Architecture School.”
Liam slowly uttered the last crucial piece of information,
“And your sister, ‘Celeste,’ with the title of national top scorer, has already become his most favored student.”
I understood instantly.
He wasn’t helping me; he was using me.
He wanted to use my design to challenge Celeste, who was basking in my glory.
He wanted to tear apart this massive lie on the most authoritative stage.
It was an open conspiracy.
He was certain I would agree because I wanted to prove myself more than anyone.
“Fine.”
I took the access card, my nails digging deeply into my palm,
“I agree. But I also have a condition.”
“Speak.”
“The designer for this project must be credited as Aurora.”
I looked at him, my eyes firm,
“I want everyone to know who designed ‘The Palace on the Clouds.’ ”
Liam smiled, a hint of approval in his expression:
“Deal.”
Over the next month, I moved into the apartment Liam had arranged for me.
It was a large, flat apartment with a spectacular view, huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city’s twinkling lights.
Even when my mom suddenly called, I barely paid attention.
I locked myself in the studio, drawing and building models day and night.
I painstakingly refined the raw “Floating Light” proposal from my student days, making it more mature, more breathtaking.
Liam gave me maximum authority and support; his company’s resources were mine to command.
He often came over late at night, staying up with me until dawn to discuss the plans.
It was as if we were back in university, two equally obsessed individuals working together towards a common goal.
I almost forgot about my mom and Celeste, until late one night, an unknown number called.
The moment I answered, my mom’s hysterical cries came through the receiver:
“Aurora! You need to come to Northwood City right away! Your sister is in trouble!”
My heart sank.
“What happened to her? A heart attack?”
“No!”
My mom’s voice was filled with terror and despair,
“She… she assaulted someone at school! She broke a male student’s leg! Now they’re pressing charges, and the school wants to expel her! She… she’s run away, no one can find her! Aurora, please, help me find her! If anything happens to her, I won’t live either!”
I held the phone, feeling a wave of absurdity.
Celeste? That delicate girl who couldn’t even twist open a bottle cap and would get winded after just a few steps? She broke someone’s bone?
How was that even possible?
Before I could think it through, Liam’s call came in, his voice unusually grave.
“Aurora, something’s happened.”
“The design proposal for ‘The Palace on the Clouds’ has been leaked.”
5
Two pieces of news, like two bombs detonating simultaneously, sent huge waves through my mind.
Celeste had assaulted someone and run away.
The design proposal for “The Palace on the Clouds” had been leaked.
Could these two things be a coincidence?
I forced myself to calm down, my brain working at lightning speed.
“Liam,” my voice was unusually calm,
“Who was the proposal leaked to?”
Liam on the other end of the phone was silent for a moment, then uttered a name I hadn’t expected:
“Northwood University’s Architecture School, Celeste.”
Of course!
I closed my eyes, and everything clicked into place.
My mom hadn’t simply come to see me.
Celeste hadn’t assaulted anyone and run away; she had taken my design proposal to curry favor!
She knew her own capabilities, knew she couldn’t fool the Dean Emeritus.
So she stole my proposal, hoping to use this perfect blueprint to solidify her “genius prodigy” reputation and strengthen her standing with the Dean.
As for the supposed “male student with a broken leg,” that was likely just a charade she cooked up to lure me to Northwood City, with my mom playing along!
What a perfect lie.
That mother and daughter duo truly had lying etched into their very bones.
“Where are you? I’ll come to you.”
Liam’s voice pulled me back from my furious thoughts.
“No need.”
I opened my eyes, my gaze cold,
“I know what I need to do.”
Hanging up, I immediately booked the earliest flight to Northwood City.
I didn’t tell my mom, nor did I contact Celeste.
If you two like to act, then I’ll make this play even more spectacular.
Two hours later, dragging my suitcase, I stood beneath the grand archway of Northwood University’s Architecture School.
I didn’t look for Celeste, but went directly to the Academic Affairs Office.
“Excuse me, Professor, my name is Aurora. I’m Celeste’s twin sister. My sister suddenly went missing this morning, and I can’t reach her on the phone. I’m very worried about her. Could you please help me check her class schedule for today?”
I fabricated a plausible reason, a perfectly timed worried expression on my face.
The responsible professor, seeing my face which was identical to the one in the student records, had no suspicion. He quickly pulled up Celeste’s timetable.
“…3 PM this afternoon, in Building C, Room 301, is the Dean Emeritus’s public lecture.”
That’s it!
I thanked the professor, checked the time – 2:45 PM.
Perfect timing.
I arrived at Building C, and from a distance, I could see a crowd gathered at the entrance of the lecture hall, Room 30
Clearly, the Dean Emeritus’s public lecture was extremely popular.
I didn’t rush in, but found a corner and dialed my mom’s number.
The phone was answered almost immediately.
“Aurora! Where are you? Have you found Celeste?”
My mom’s voice was still filled with urgent anxiety.
“Mom,” I lowered my voice, my tone tinged with tears and panic,
“I just got to the university. I heard the place where Celeste had trouble was Building C. I’m scared to go alone, can you please come with me?”
“Okay, okay, okay! Don’t be afraid, I’ll be there right away! Wait for me at the entrance of Building C!”
My mom agreed without thinking.
Hanging up, I looked at my phone screen, a cold smile curving on my lips.
The bait had been cast.
Now, it was time to reel them in.
I entered Room 301. The massive tiered lecture hall was packed.
On the podium, an energetic, stately elderly man was speaking; he must have been the Dean Emeritus.
And in the very center of the first row sat my dear sister, Celeste.
She was wearing a tasteful white dress today, with delicate makeup.
She was listening attentively to the lecture, occasionally exchanging a few words with the Dean beside her.
She looked every bit the brilliant, highly esteemed student.
On the table in front of her, conspicuously displayed, was a roll of blueprints.
It was “The Palace on the Clouds,” the design I had poured countless sleepless nights and all my heart and soul into.
I found a seat in the back row, near the door, and waited quietly.
As the public lecture drew to a close, the Dean smiled at Celeste, his voice full of admiration:
“…Finally, let’s give a warm round of applause to our most outstanding freshman this year, the national top scorer of the architect’s exam, Celeste Sterling, as she presents her brand new conceptual design for ‘The Palace on the Clouds’ project!”
Thunderous applause erupted, and all eyes focused on Celeste.
Celeste stood up, a confident and proud smile on her face.
She walked to the podium, ready to unfurl the blueprints that belonged to me.
Just then, the back door of the classroom was violently pushed open.
My mom rushed in, breathless, her face still streaked with fresh tears.
She spotted Celeste on the podium at once and cried out:
“Celeste! You… you didn’t run away? What are you doing here!”
The entire room instantly fell silent, everyone staring in confusion at the woman who had suddenly burst in.
Celeste’s smile instantly froze. She looked at my mom in horror, her face turning ashen:
“Mom? You… why are you here?”
My mom also froze. She looked at Celeste on stage, then instinctively scanned the crowd for me.
I slowly rose from the back row, meeting the bewildered gazes of everyone, and walked, step by step, towards the podium.
I walked up to Celeste, and under her terrified gaze, took the blueprints from her hands.
Then, I turned to face the bewildered Dean and hundreds of teachers and students below.
And I showed them a smile identical to Celeste’s, yet a hundred times brighter.
“Hello everyone, my name is Aurora, and I am Celeste’s twin sister.”
My voice, amplified by the microphone, clearly resonated throughout the entire classroom.
“I apologize for the interruption. My sister is not feeling well today and seems a bit disoriented, so the following presentation of the proposal will be delivered by me, the true designer of these blueprints.”
###截断点
6
My voice wasn’t loud, but it detonated like a depth charge in the silent classroom.
Everyone’s gaze flitted between me, Celeste, and my mom.
Their faces were etched with shock, confusion, and scrutiny.
Celeste’s face, in an instant, went from white to green, then to a deathly gray.
Her lips trembled; she couldn’t utter a single word, her body swaying precariously.
My mom finally realized she’d been tricked by me.
She rushed forward, trying to snatch the blueprints from my hand.
She babbled incoherently, trying to explain:
“No… it’s not true! Dean, professors, don’t listen to her nonsense! She… she’s my older daughter, she’s jealous of her sister’s success, she’s lost her mind!”
“Lost her mind?”
I sneered, unfurling the blueprints across the podium.
The exquisite design was instantly revealed to everyone.
“Then I must ask my dear mother, how could someone who’s ‘lost her mind’ design this ‘Palace on the Clouds’?”
I ignored them and turned to face the Dean, calmly beginning my presentation.
“I’ve named this design ‘Floating Light,’ inspired by mirages. My core concept is to utilize the latest photosensitive suspended materials and holographic projection technology to create a dynamic building that truly integrates with the clouds and light, an architectural wonder…”
I didn’t refer to any notes; all the structures, data, and material parameters were already etched into my mind.
From design philosophy to structural mechanics, from material application to ecological cycles, I spoke flawlessly.
That inherent confidence and professionalism, ingrained in my very being, was something Celeste could never imitate.
The entire classroom was silent; everyone was captivated by the architectural marvel I described.
The Dean’s eyes, from initial confusion, gradually turned to astonishment, and finally to undisguised admiration and excitement.
As for Celeste, she stood aside, like a clown stripped of her fine garments, utterly mortified.
My mom collapsed onto the floor, her face ashen.
When the presentation ended, the applause was ten times more enthusiastic than before.
The Dean walked up, gripped my hand tightly, and said excitedly:
“Aurora! You are the true genius! This is precisely the design I’ve dreamed of! I announce that the ‘Palace on the Clouds’ project will be entirely under your charge!”
Just then, Celeste, who had been silent, suddenly let out a piercing scream.
She stared intently at me, her eyes filled with venom and madness:
“Aurora! Why are you destroying me! I worked so hard… everything I worked so hard to get! It’s all you! You ruined me!”
With that, she suddenly lunged at me like a madwoman, trying to tear up the blueprints on the table.
I instinctively protected the blueprints, pushing her away.
She stumbled back a few steps, then suddenly clutched her chest, her face contorted in extreme pain.
Then she fell straight backward.
“Celeste!”
My mom screamed, scrambling to her daughter.
The scene instantly descended into chaos.
An ambulance arrived, sirens wailing, taking Celeste and my mom away.
I stood on the chaotic podium, clutching the blueprints that had vindicated me, but felt no joy of victory. Instead, I was gripped by an unsettling premonition.
I saw Celeste’s eyes clearly the moment she fell.
Her gaze wasn’t one of pain from a sudden heart attack, but more like… triumph.
By the time everything was handled, it was late at night.
Liam drove to pick me up. The Dean personally escorted me to the campus gate, repeatedly urging me to rest well and not rush the project.
Getting into the car, Liam handed me a bottle of warm water.
“Well done.”
He said simply.
I leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes tiredly:
“I just have a feeling things aren’t that simple.”
“Are you saying your sister faked it?”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head,
“But my gut tells me she has another trick up her sleeve.”
No sooner had I spoken than my phone rang. It was the hospital.
A cold, formal voice came through the receiver:
“Is this Celeste’s next of kin? The patient suffered acute heart failure, and after resuscitation efforts failed, she was pronounced deceased five minutes ago.”
Deceased?
I held the phone, completely stunned.
How could… how could this be? Wasn’t she faking it?
Liam saw the change in my expression, immediately pulled the car to the side of the road,
Took the phone from my hand, and after listening for a few moments, his face also instantly darkened.
“Aurora,”
He hung up the phone, looking at me, his tone unusually serious,
“Your sister is dead. And, the police just received a report. The caller is your mother, and she’s accusing you… of deliberately pushing and provoking Celeste during the public lecture, leading to her heart attack and death.”
“She… she’s accusing me?”
I looked at Liam in disbelief, a chill shooting from my feet straight to the top of my head.
My mom, she was actually going to accuse me of killing her daughter?
“That’s not all.”
Liam’s face grew even uglier,
“At the exact same time your sister was pronounced dead, Northwood University’s Dean Emeritus’s computer was hacked. An identical copy of ‘The Palace on the Clouds’ design proposal you submitted was sent, via anonymous email, to all the bidders for the project.”
I was completely dumbfounded.
Celeste was dead.
My mom was accusing me of murder.
My design proposal had been leaked to all my competitors.
All of this, had happened within a few short hours.
One linked to the next, each move deadly.
I finally understood what Celeste’s triumphant gaze meant when she fell.
She used her death to engineer a conspiracy against me.
She wanted to ruin my reputation, leave me with nothing, and even… send me to prison.
How ruthless.
Truly ruthless.
I looked at the city lights outside the car window, feeling utterly cold.
Could someone who was already dead really lay such an intricate trap?
Or was there another mastermind, hidden behind her, pulling the strings?
🌟 Continue the story here
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