Category: English

Grace Lockwood was dying. Her one wish was for her only daughter, Sophia Lockwood, to have a child to call her own. To ease her foster mother’s worries, Jason Danish agreed to her request. He started staying out all night, pressuring me to divorce him. After several heated arguments, I summoned the long-dormant Zenith Interface, “I want to leave this world.” To spare me from pain in my final moments, the system extracted my core emotions. I stopped fighting or arguing, which seemed to please Jason. He eagerly married his foster sister, Sophia. Gradually, Jason began to notice my growing indifference. I even prepared baby clothes for the child Sophia was expecting. It was then that he finally panicked. …… Content Jason Danish and I had another fight. It was the third time, always about his foster sister, Sophia Lockwood. I grabbed his arm, refusing to let him leave. Jason flung me off with irritation. Unsteady on my feet, I caught the edge of the table to keep from falling. His face darkened, brimming with impatience. “Chloe Hartwell, I’ve told you this a hundred times: it’s just for a child. A year from now, I’ll divorce her and remarry you. Why can’t you just be reasonable? Why pick a fight now?” I stared into his eyes, my chest heaving. “She wants a child, but why does it have to be you? She knows you’re married. She’s destroying our family.” “Chloe Hartwell!” Jason’s voice was low, carrying a storm of fury. “Grace raised me. Without her, I wouldn’t even be alive. What family do I have without her?” “Tomorrow at the County Clerk’s Office, I’ll be waiting.” With that, he slammed the door, leaving the apartment complex. At the curb, a petite figure emerged from a Bentley and ran toward him, throwing herself into his arms. I clutched my chest, a bitter ache swelling inside. Seven years together, and this was how it all ended. I summoned the Zenith Interface. “System, I want to go home.” Three years ago, I successfully won over Jason Danish. I should have left then. But Jason had said to me, “Chloe, I finally have a home.” I had teased, “You could’ve just bought a house. Isn’t that the same thing?” Jason frowned, shaking his head solemnly. “It’s not about having a house—it’s about having you. You’re my home.” “Chloe, you are my home.” In that moment, I felt like I was walking on air, floating among the clouds. Because of those words, I stayed. After all, I was an orphan. Where I lived didn’t really matter. But only three years later, Jason dealt me a fatal blow. When Grace was diagnosed with late-stage cancer, she clung to Jason’s hand, pleading with him to take care of Sophia. Tears streamed down her face as she expressed her fears that Sophia, alone in the world, would be vulnerable. “If only Sophia could have a child,” she said. “But she refuses to marry. I know—it’s because she’s waiting for you, Jason. I don’t care about dying, but I can’t rest easy leaving Sophia alone.” To ease her mind, Jason promised to marry Sophia and give her a child. I was there in the hospital room when he made that promise, every word chilling me to the core. When we got home, Jason told me he wanted a divorce so he could marry Sophia. I refused, and we argued. He ended it by slamming the door on me. The Zenith Interface hesitated before speaking. “Host, for the first three months of separation, your emotions will be removed. You’ll become an empty shell. Leaving then will spare you much of the pain.” I agreed. I would do anything to get far away from Jason Danish.

The next day, I didn’t make it to the County Clerk’s Office. It was pouring rain, and I hated going out in storms. Jason called, his tone sharp with frustration. “Chloe Hartwell, the wedding is next week. Can you stop causing trouble?” Rain pounded against the windows, and thunder rumbled in the distance. I clutched the edge of the blanket. “Can’t we do it tomorrow? The forecast says it’ll be sunny.” Jason’s breathing grew heavier, tinged with exasperation. “Tomorrow, I’m helping Sophia try on wedding dresses.” “What about the day after?” “Chloe Hartwell!” When Jason got angry, his voice grew low and weighty. I didn’t need to see him to know his face was stormy, his brow furrowed, convinced I was playing games. I sighed. “Fine. Wait for me.” I hated rainstorms—feared them, even. In my original world, I’d been in a car accident during a storm. That’s how I ended up in a coma and became part of this world through the system. I hailed a cab, but by the time I folded my umbrella, the rain had drenched half my hair. I frowned, irritated. I hated rainy days. Outside the fogged windows, the streets were nearly empty. My phone rang incessantly. All calls were from Jason. I tugged at the corners of my mouth in a bitter smile. He was so impatient he couldn’t wait even a minute. Oddly, I felt nothing. It seemed the separation program was already taking effect. The cab skidded at a corner, the tires screeching against the wet pavement. I was thrown forward, my forehead smacking against the seat in front of me. Jason was still blowing up my phone, but unfortunately for him, I’d been in a car accident. I grabbed my umbrella and prepared to walk to the County Clerk’s Office. The driver grabbed my arm. “Where are you going? The ambulance is on its way.” “Let me go. I’ve got urgent business.” “What’s so urgent? Reincarnation?” “I’m getting a divorce.” The driver froze for a second, then tightened his grip. Maybe he mistook the rain on my face for tears. He gave me a look—equal parts pity and sadness. “Urgent or not, you still need to get checked out first.” I supposed he was right. I was taken to Lakewood Medical Center. After a battery of tests, the County Clerk’s Office had long since closed. Jason stormed into my hospital room, his initial alarm fading into a cold mask as he saw I was unharmed. “A car accident? Chloe Hartwell, you couldn’t have come up with a better excuse? Where are you hurt?” I spread my hands. “Nowhere.” Jason flipped through my test results, his face growing darker by the second. The paper crinkled in his hands. He laughed bitterly. “Chloe Hartwell, are you determined to make my mother die with regrets?” “I told you—I’ll divorce Sophia once she has the child. Can’t you think about me? Do you know how worried I was coming here? And you? You’re fine with lying to me.” Once, I might have been hurt by this, furious even. Why should I understand him when he was ready to tear our family apart for Sophia? Who understood me? But now, I was calm. I didn’t even have the energy to argue. “Jason Danish, I wasn’t lying. I really was in an accident. The driver’s still here in the hospital if you don’t believe me. I just got lucky.” Jason didn’t believe me, but before he could vent further, Sophia called. His stern expression softened. His voice became gentle. He didn’t even bother stepping away. Her playful, sweet tone carried clearly over the line. We weren’t divorced yet, and Sophia was already calling him “hubby.” And Jason? He didn’t correct her. After hanging up, he sighed and turned to me. “Chloe, I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Don’t fight me this time. You know Grace doesn’t have much time left.” Grace’s dying wish was to see Jason and Sophia married. Jason busied himself making it happen. I nodded. “Okay.” “Don’t fight me, Chloe…” “What did you say?” Jason froze, startled. I repeated myself. “I said, okay. Tomorrow, divorce.”

In the past, I wouldn’t have agreed so easily. Not scolding him first would’ve been a miracle. But now, it took no effort at all to say, “Fine.” Jason Danish’s furrowed brow relaxed, and he exhaled in relief. “Then, tomorrow.” Sophia Lockwood was waiting for him to have dinner. He had no time to waste on me. Jason left the hospital quickly, guilt written all over him. After he left, the doctor told me I could be discharged. I went home and cooked myself a bowl of noodles. They were tasteless. I added more salt, but the flavor didn’t change. It seemed my sense of taste was already fading, much faster than I’d expected. I finished the meal mechanically, then methodically cleaned up and washed the dishes. Finally, I lay on the cold, empty bed. I ran my hand over the other side—it was ice cold. Ever since Jason decided to marry Sophia, he’d moved out. The empty house was mine alone. If I left, no one would live here anymore. The next morning, I was woken by the ringing of my phone. Jason’s cold voice came through. “I’m downstairs. Get ready and come down.” I froze for a second. “Okay.” When I opened the car door to the passenger seat, I realized Sophia was there too. Her hair was in soft curls, her makeup impeccable. She smiled at me, almost playfully. “Sorry, Chloe, I didn’t feel like getting out of the car. Do you mind sitting in the back?” I nodded. “Sure.” I climbed into the backseat, staring out the window with a blank expression. In the rearview mirror, Jason’s gaze flitted toward me now and then. He cleared his throat. “Uh, Sophia wants to invite you to be her bridesmaid.” I looked at him, puzzled. Jason coughed again. “If you don’t want to, it’s fine. The wedding’s just a formality. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” “I’ll go.” Jason’s expression shifted to one of surprise. “Did you hear me? I said bridesmaid.” “I heard you. I’m not deaf,” I replied. Jason’s face darkened, and he snapped, “Fine. When Sophia picks her dress later, you can pick your bridesmaid dress.” When the seal stamped down on the divorce papers, it marked the end of my three-year marriage to Jason Danish. Jason grabbed his copy of the decree and stuffed it into his pocket without so much as glancing at it. I, on the other hand, took my time, carefully examining every word. The documents were just different pieces of paper, but they ruled most of our lives. I hadn’t finished reading when a large hand snatched the paper from me. Jason’s tone was annoyed. “What’s so interesting about it? It’s not like we’re really divorced.” The stamp begged to differ. Whatever. If that’s how he wanted to see it, so be it. Sophia’s wedding dress was stunning, adorned with diamonds that sparkled in the sunlight. When Jason and I got married, he was fresh out of college and broke. Our wedding had been minimalist, to say the least. He had promised me back then, “When I have money, I’ll throw you an even grander wedding, and you’ll wear the most beautiful dress.” Three years later, he had money, but those promises were long forgotten. I looked at the diamond ring on my finger, then noticed Jason’s hand was bare, leaving only a faint white mark where his ring had been. Calmly, I slipped my ring off and placed it on the counter. Following the store clerk, I began picking out bridesmaid dresses. Each one was prettier than the last. Sophia appeared behind me suddenly. “Chloe, I think this one suits you,” she said, holding up a long-sleeved, nude-toned dress with tulle. It was hideous and outdated. I replied evenly, “Then you wear it.” Sophia bit her lip, feigning hurt. “Chloe, this is a bridesmaid dress. I’m the bride.” I instinctively furrowed my brow. She was on the verge of tears again. Jason tossed the dress to me and wrapped an arm around Sophia, comforting her softly before turning to scold me. “Sophia is the bride. How could you suggest she wear a bridesmaid dress?” “Chloe Hartwell, if you don’t want to be her bridesmaid, just say so. Don’t act all pitiful.” What? I wasn’t doing anything. Jason handed the dress to the clerk. “This one. Wrap it up.” Fine. An ugly dress it was. On the wedding day, balloons surrounded the lawn at Green Ridge Estate, and the area was decorated with countless framed photos of Jason and Sophia. The guests all looked on enviously. Dressed in the hideous bridesmaid dress, I held the rings, waiting for my cue. Finally, it was time for the ring exchange. Step by step, I approached the bride and groom. When I handed Jason the ring, he looked at me, his eyes holding an unreadable emotion. He murmured softly, “Chloe, it’s just an act.” I nodded to show I understood. The emotion in his eyes faded, replaced by a smile as he slid the ring onto Sophia’s finger. Applause erupted, and the officiant announced, “You may kiss the bride!” I stood quietly to the side, waiting for them to kiss so I could finally take off my heels. The ill-fitting shoes had been digging into my feet all day. I lifted one foot to relieve the pain. When I glanced up, Jason’s eyes were locked on mine. He still hadn’t kissed Sophia. Sophia urged him quietly, her voice impatient. The guests stared expectantly. But he didn’t move. His lips quivered. “Chloe, I…”

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After getting married, my husband Ethan William and I have always kept our finances very transparent. He once told his friends, “Ella is independent and capable; she never relies on a man. What I love most is her confident demeanor.” Later, his secretary shared on social media, “I wanted him to set up a more personal payment arrangement, but instead he gave me an unlimited supplementary card. What should I do? The Princess has already fallen for the Dragon Slayer.” The pride of the Little Girl practically radiates from the screen. I sighed as I looked at the joyful posts about her finances every day: “How can I reclaim my share of this marital property? I just wonder if Ethan’s Little Girl will end up in tears.” I looked at the photos Mia posted on SnapChat: a Hermès handbag worth over a hundred thousand, a necklace from G Brand, and clothes and shoes from various luxury brands—each piece was exquisite. The comments below were filled with envy: “Mia, your boyfriend treats you so well!” “Truly, boyfriends like that never disappoint.” “Mia, when will you bring him out for us to meet?” Mia quickly posted another photo. In it, the young and charming Mia, wearing a sexy camisole, was hugging a man’s neck, only his chin visible. A dark red lip mark adorned his Adam’s apple—everyone knew what that meant. Mia captioned it: “My hero wants only me to see him; he’s mine.” The comments continued to brim with envy, but only I recognized the man as Ethan, identifiable by the scar on the side of his chin. That scar was from a winter night in college when we were working part-time. He had ridden a bicycle with me through the snow and, to protect me during a fall, injured his chin. Every time he teased me, he would say, “This is the medal of a hero; our Ella must repay me with her body.” I’d blush and bury my face in his embrace. But now, this boy who once protected me had become someone else’s Dragon Slayer, equally brave and captivating. I liked every one of Mia’s posts and commented on their group photo: “What a happy girl! I envy you for having an unlimited secondary card. When will your hero show his face?” I then selected a few of Mia’s photos and sent them to Ethan: “This style of bag and those clothes are too extravagant; they don’t suit your girl.” When Ethan came home, he bore a look of helplessness as he tore off his tie and sank tiredly onto the sofa. “Why are you competing with a girl? She’s just going to a class reunion, afraid others will look down on her, so she borrowed my secondary card for a photo.” What a flimsy excuse; it felt like a lie. I knew Mia didn’t come from a privileged background; she took out loans for university and only had two work outfits when she joined the company. Yet, her youth shone through—a simple white shirt could keep anyone’s eyes glued to her. But it was this girl who had captured Ethan’s heart. Known in the business world for his integrity, he had fallen into the web of affection spun by her, unable to escape. He continued to explain, “Those things were rewards for her hard work, but her posts were somewhat misleading. I’ve already talked to her about it; I’ll make sure she pays attention next time.” I fixed my gaze on his eyes, and when he looked away, I pointed at the photo and asked, “Ethan, how generous you are! A secretary’s hard work earns her a handbag worth over a hundred thousand and a bracelet worth over ten thousand. If this gets out, applicants will be breaking down the door to Gu’s; you truly are a good boss.” Ethan straightened up, frowning at me. “Ella, enough. I said it’s just a misunderstanding. You don’t need to read too much into it; you know I haven’t betrayed you.” “Your comment on her SnapChat today was excessive.” A sharp pain shot through my heart; he was sitting with a girl, the kiss mark still visible on her neck, and he dared to say I was excessive? I thought back to when we had just married; Ethan had said, “Ella, I will always treat you well, and we will grow old together.” That vow, made just a few years ago, had already scattered like leaves in the wind. I handed him a mirror. “Look at the kiss mark on your Adam’s apple, then tell me you haven’t betrayed me? Ethan, you’ve really disappointed me.” He panicked for a moment, knocking the mirror away, shattering it on the ground. “I felt a bit uncomfortable and pressed on it myself, leaving a mark. Don’t be suspicious, Ella. You’ve always been different from other women; why have you changed now?” He stood up, ignoring my questions, and turned to sleep in the guest room. “I don’t want to argue; you should calm down.” The next day, as soon as I arrived at work, Mia walked in with red eyes and a large bag. In front of all the colleagues, she dumped its contents onto my desk. “I’m sorry, Sister Ella. It’s my fault for being thoughtless and posting those things on SnapChat, which made you misunderstand.” “I shouldn’t have let Ethan’s rewards go to my head and posted those random things on SnapChat; I’m truly sorry.” The colleagues watching had no idea what was happening, whispering and pointing outside. I picked up a G Brand bag and smiled, asking, “What great contribution have you made to the company? A reward of over a hundred thousand? Ask those standing outside; they work hard—have they ever received such rewards?” I tossed the bag lightly onto the ground, landing at her feet. “And a jacket worth several thousand?” “A bracelet worth over ten thousand? Mia, how many good deeds have you done to earn daily rewards?” Mia’s face turned pale, tears welling in her eyes. “I… I work hard; how can you doubt me?” The people outside stared at the luxury items on the ground, murmuring louder: “Yeah, why does she deserve that?” “Didn’t you see her SnapChat? She said her boyfriend bought it!” “Is it her boyfriend who bought it, or is it Ethan’s reward? I’m confused.” “Are you stupid? Ethan’s wife has already spoken; what kind of relationship do you think it is? Isn’t that just a mistress?” The mocking laughter from outside reached Mia’s ears; she bit her lip, looking aggrieved. “What are you all doing? Don’t you need to work?” Ethan entered. Mia looked over, and the tears that had been threatening to fall finally rolled down her cheeks as she gazed at her Dragon Slayer with red eyes: “Ethan.” Her voice was pitiful. Ethan glared at me, looking at the items on the ground. “Ella, I told you yesterday it was just a misunderstanding. What’s the point of making things difficult for a girl?” “You scared her; she came here to apologize early in the morning, and now everything is here. Do you feel particularly imposing and proud, outshining everyone as Mrs. William?”

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The night before the wedding, Charlie suddenly became very busy. He couldn’t even make it to the venue decoration as we had planned. Feeling guilty, he called to comfort me. “There’s a heavy thunderstorm in NewYork. Stay at home and don’t go out, okay?” “Don’t worry about the decorations. Just focus on being a beautiful bride.” I couldn’t rest easy, so I went to check myself. That’s when I saw Charlie. In a huge helicopter parked on the lawn, there was a woman in a flight attendant uniform kneeling between his legs. “Respected sir, are you satisfied with my service?” she purred. Charlie smirked and pulled her into his arms. But that was my wedding venue. The helicopter was the dream Charlie had promised me. … The rain in NewYork came suddenly and violently. With thunder and lightning, I returned home looking like a drowned rat, pale-faced. My whole body felt hot. Dizzy and groggy, I crawled up to take a fever reducer, wrapped myself in a blanket, and dialed a number. “Hello, I’ve changed my mind.” “I want to join your Atlantic Airways. Yes, as soon as possible.” After hanging up, the scene I had just witnessed kept flashing in my mind uncontrollably. I sneezed hard. I never thought I’d leave because of Charlie, when I had stayed for him in the first place. As the medicine took effect, I closed my eyes. Soon after, I was awakened by Charlie’s call. The man’s voice on the other end was low and gentle, just like always. “Rachel, I’ve been so busy. Did you eat lunch properly?” I coughed a couple of times. Charlie immediately became concerned, “What’s wrong? Why are you coughing? Did you not wear enough clothes or…” His concern came to an abrupt halt. Suddenly alert, he asked, “Rachel, did you go out?” “Mm-hmm.” I replied weakly, “I went downstairs to buy breakfast. Didn’t expect the rain to be so heavy.” He breathed a sigh of relief on the other end. “Didn’t I tell you not to go out in the heavy rain? If you wanted to eat something, I could have had it delivered to the villa.” “The wedding is in a few days. If you get sick and can’t get up, where am I going to find such a beautiful bride?” I didn’t answer. My mind was filled with images of the helicopter on the wedding lawn, and the woman in the flight attendant uniform. If I were too sick to get up, wouldn’t Charlie have a better choice? “Rachel?” Seeing my silence, Charlie tentatively spoke up. But his words were cut off by someone’s lips, blocking his false comforts in his throat. The sound of heavy breathing stopped. He growled low, threatening the person with a mix of reproach and indulgence. “Rachel, the rain was too heavy. I got drenched when someone bumped into me.” “Be careful, don’t drive too fast.” “It’s fine.” Charlie’s tone became cheerful, “Just thinking about being able to come back and be with you after these meetings makes me want to drive at 70 mph!” “Gotta go now, I need to drive.” The call ended abruptly, with only half of the usual kisses and hugs. A moment later, Charlie sent a message. “Rachel, the wedding company just called me. They said there’s a problem with the helicopter we ordered, and it needs to be sent back to the factory for repairs… How about we change it to a big flower ball?” Does it need repairs because of a problem… I recalled that eye-catching scene. Or was it soaked with sweat during their romp and can no longer be used? Actually, renting a helicopter for the wedding venue was too extravagant. It was Charlie who insisted. At 24, in my first year as a flight attendant, I encountered an unreasonable passenger. He poured a full cup of boiling water on the back of my hand. I still had to crouch down and clean up the cabin. At that time, it was when Charlie’s startup was struggling the most. I couldn’t afford to rest, having to fly even with bandages on. Busy and rushed, that scar remained there forever. Charlie held me tightly, his heart aching. He swore, “When I make big money in the future, I’ll definitely take you on a helicopter ride.” “No passengers, and you won’t need to serve anyone. It will be a romance just for us.” But he didn’t keep his promise. He gave our exclusive romance to someone else. Everything after that was just his conscience trying to make up for it. I don’t want it anymore. A confused cat emoji came through the chat box. I lowered my eyelids and typed “okay” on the keyboard.

When Charlie sent someone to deliver food, I was in a deep sleep and didn’t hear the doorbell. By the time I woke up, the food outside the door had already gone cold. I opened the packaging. It was all the light flavors I loved. We even had a microwave at home to reheat food. But I only felt nauseous. I put the food in the fridge and called my best friend, Kiera, to let her know I was leaving. She angrily ranted about Charlie for fifteen minutes. “Are you stupid? Now that he’s successful, you’re just going to leave quietly and let him off the hook?” “If you ask me, you should go through with this wedding!” “Slowly collect evidence of his cheating, then file for divorce and take half of his assets!” “You’ve been with him for ten years. Are those ten years of your youth worth nothing?” Yes, ten years. I had been with Charlie for ten years. I watched him go from a nobody startup founder to falling and getting back up, through ups and downs, until he finally established his own brand. The toughest times were during the pandemic years. His company, which had just started to take off, was on the verge of bankruptcy. Most of my flights were grounded. We had to give up the spacious apartment we were renting and move back to a cramped basement. At that time, it was really difficult. So difficult that we had to compete with sewer rats for rice to eat. Charlie had to pay off the debts he owed for goods on time, otherwise it would affect his credit score. He was forced to do manual labor. I begged my superiors to let me fly, taking on any flight no matter how dirty, smelly, or difficult. That’s how we finally got through that period. I’ll never forget the day we paid off our debts. Charlie locked the basement door, dragging a suitcase with one hand and holding mine with the other. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Rachel, thank you for getting through this with me!” “I, Charlie, swear to heaven!” He raised his finger, “I will definitely make something of myself and marry my girl in grand style!” At that time, the young man’s sincerity was transparent. But after walking in the torrent for too long, it was washed away until the color was no longer clear. Actually, Kiera is wrong. From an outsider’s perspective, I must fight for something to do justice to these ten years. But if I say I don’t hate Charlie, probably no one would believe me. Maybe I hated him when I stumbled upon that erotic scene in the helicopter. Afterwards, all that was left was deep exhaustion. I just want to leave. Get away from him, away from this place that holds ten years of our memories, leave everything behind and start over. “I don’t want to make things too ugly with him.” I lowered my head. Call me weak or cowardly if you want. I don’t want to tear away the fig leaf between Charlie and me, destroying the most beautiful memories of our ten years. Because that was my youth too. No matter how rotten the person in my youth has become, he was still the man I once loved deeply. “You…” Kiera sighed, “So when do you plan to leave?” I flipped through my email. The offer from Atlantic Airways had arrived. “Two days.” In two days, I’ll be leaving this place. … At 10 p.m., Charlie still hadn’t come back. Ever since Charlie’s career took off, we’ve been on different schedules. Sometimes when I flew red-eye flights, he’d already be gone by the time I got back. Since then, I’ve asked the company not to schedule me for night flights, hoping to have our private time together when I return home at night. I got used to waiting. But this time, I don’t want to wait anymore. Just as I turned off the lights to go to sleep, Charlie called. The sound of running water came through from the other end, especially jarring in the dead of night. “Rachel, don’t wait up for me.” “I originally booked a flight to get back tonight, but as soon as I landed, I got dragged into a meeting.” “The people below know I’m about to take my honeymoon leave, so they’re taking this time to hold all the meetings for next quarter while they have me…” “Don’t be angry. After our wedding is over, I promise I’ll make it up to you with a proper honeymoon.” I wanted to ask him, what flight could fly from the rooftop garden of the Empire State Building to here? What kind of meeting requires the participants to wash up in a hotel room first? But I didn’t say it out loud. “Work is important. Take care of yourself too.” He was about to reply when the water sound on the other end stopped. Someone was walking barefoot on the wooden floor. The sound of clothes rustling arose. I could almost hear someone breathing into Charlie’s ear. There was a dull “thud”. Charlie’s phone hit the ground, and the sound of lips and teeth intertwining came through the speaker. Perhaps he was too eager. So eager that he didn’t even hang up the phone. I masochistically listened to the whole thing, until the woman’s coquettish gasps arose. “Charlie, are you really going to get married?” she asked. Charlie must have lit a cigarette, exhaling smoke. “What else can I do?” He chuckled lightly, “She’s been with me for ten years. I have to give her a title at least, so people don’t say I’m ungrateful.” “Such a generous old man…” The woman sneered, “Haven’t you ever wondered if she, as a flight attendant all these years… if she’s been with other men…” Charlie didn’t speak again. The woman hadn’t realized anything yet and continued chattering, “I heard she’s flown to India many times… I’ve heard those flights are not clean…” “Also, in her line of work, I don’t believe there are no sugar daddies… Didn’t you say she helped you through the economic crisis for a few years…” “Enough!” Charlie shouted angrily, “Don’t talk about things you shouldn’t know! I know very well what kind of person Rachel is. It’s not your place to comment!” I hung up the phone. My whole body was shaking uncontrollably. I knew very well that Charlie had taken it to heart. He’s usually emotionally stable and wouldn’t get angry unless he had doubts. I recalled those most difficult years. To help Charlie pay off his debts, I did indeed fly many trips to India. The memories are heart-wrenching. The dirty and chaotic environment goes without saying. The scariest part was the scrutinizing gazes of the passengers, like wolves eyeing their prey. After each flight, there would be many black handprints on my bottom. That wasn’t even the worst of it. Once, I was tricked by a passenger in the back row who pressed the call button. He grabbed me and dragged me into the bathroom to assault me. Fortunately, a colleague heard my cries for help passing by and rescued me. On the way home that day, I cried for a long time, but wiped away my tears before reaching the front door. I didn’t want Charlie to know. I also didn’t want him to feel guilty or worried. So I didn’t say anything, not even mentioning the times people offered to be my sugar daddy. Yes, people wanted to be my sugar daddy, more than once. There were also quite a few business elites who expressed interest in dating me. But I turned them all down, one by one. Because I knew very clearly, Charlie only had me. And I only had him. I believed every word he said, every vow he made. I believed he would have his day. But now, I’ve waited for it. Yet I no longer want it.

The next day, I got up early, planning to tidy up the house and pack the large luggage that needed to be shipped. I didn’t expect Charlie to suddenly come home. The photo of us at 27 crashed to the ground. I hurriedly bent down to pick it up, but cut my finger on the glass, blood covering my hand. Seeing this, Charlie immediately ran over to stop the bleeding. His face full of distress, he said, “If you’re not feeling well, just lie down obediently. Let the housekeeper clean up the house.” As he spoke, he angrily kicked the photo frame away. I was stunned, staring at the shattered glass on the floor as tears fell. That was… our engagement photo… When Charlie earned his first bucket of gold, he excitedly bought me a little white dress. And a small 0.5 carat diamond ring. He took me to take a set of engagement photos. He also said he wanted to treat me to a rotating buffet at the rooftop garden restaurant of the Empire State Building. “Wouldn’t that cost thousands?” I felt a bit pained. Charlie put his arm around my shoulders and waved his hand grandly, “I earn the money, you spend it. Isn’t that the natural order of things?” I shook my head, pretending to be angry, “I hate eating things like sashimi. It upsets my stomach.” “How about… you treat me to a bowl of rice noodles with double fried eggs instead… Save the rest of the money… When I want to eat there someday, you can take me then…” Charlie rubbed my forehead and said, “Okay.” But after that, we never ate rice noodles again. The wedding he promised me was delayed for seven years. Seven years had passed already. Seeing me cry, Charlie became a bit flustered, asking if my hand hurt. I shook my head, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “Don’t cry, Rachel.” He gently wiped my tears, “We still have to go try on wedding dresses today. If your eyes are swollen from crying, you won’t look good in the dress…” I was stunned. “Didn’t we already choose a wedding dress?” Charlie’s eyes flashed with guilt for a moment, “We did choose one… but the store just called me… They said a more luxurious, more expensive handmade wedding dress just came in…” “I want to give you the best.” His gaze was fervent. For a moment, I couldn’t tell if it was true or false. But Charlie, I never wanted a more luxurious or expensive wedding. None of this compares to the little white dress you gave me on our engagement day. But I didn’t resist, obediently following Charlie to the bridal shop. As soon as we entered, the staff recognized him. They only glanced at me before awkwardly averting their gaze. I had a rough idea of what was going on. Following Charlie’s instructions, the store manager took me to the luxury section to choose a wedding dress. Passing by the warehouse, I saw two staff members moving a wedding dress inside. It was the one I had chosen before. I smiled, not exposing anything. After trying on a few, Charlie wasn’t very satisfied, until I came out wearing a pure white satin strapless wedding dress. Charlie’s lowered head suddenly lifted. He stared at me, speechless for a long time. At that moment, I saw many emotions in his eyes. Amazement, reminiscence, surprise, doubt, disgust, and impatience. Finally, he frowned. “Who told you to pick such a pure white fitted wedding dress for her!” My heart sank. Did he think I had tainted the pure and innocent Rachel in his heart? Or was he convinced that I had used my body to earn money to help him through the economic crisis? “I said! I want the most luxurious, the most sparkly, the most elaborate wedding dress! Don’t try to fob me off with this kind of thing!” The disgust in Charlie’s eyes hurt me. I didn’t wait for the staff to bring a new wedding dress. I turned and went back into the fitting room, leaning my back against the wall, my eyes stinging. Soon after, I heard Charlie talking to someone through the curtain. “Why are you calling me… You know I’m with her trying on wedding dresses…” “If you hadn’t secretly run to the bridal shop and used my black card to buy the one she had ordered, would I need to come again?” “Seeing her in pure white… I can’t help but think of what you said…” “Forget it, as long as I have you with me in the future, it’s enough if she can just stay at home properly.” All the way until Charlie sent me home. Those words he said kept lingering in my mind, refusing to go away. When I came to my senses, I realized he had left again at some point. I opened the wardrobe and started packing my luggage. The white dress Charlie gave me when I was 27 was still hanging there. I pulled it out and wrapped it up. I stuffed it into a huge bag, planning to have someone come pick it up for recycling later. I cleared out the few boxes from the attic storage room. They contained many things we had moved over when we relocated. There were several photo albums. All filled with memories of Charlie and me. I pulled them out one by one, throwing them into a fire pit to burn to ashes. The empty albums, along with the boxes, were pushed outside the door waiting to be recycled. Finally, I found a notebook. It was piled together with the photo albums, its pages yellowed and covered in dust. Opening it, I saw Charlie’s handwriting densely filling the pages. It was the account book he had used to keep track of his business since he started. How much he borrowed, how much he repaid, how much he spent, how much he earned – all recorded clearly. In my memory, Charlie always carried it with him wherever he went, never letting it out of his sight. I don’t know how it ended up stuffed in an old cardboard box, placed together with our memories. I picked at the imprints on it. They were stains from years of accumulated bread crumbs and vegetable soup, perhaps mixed with Charlie’s tears when he felt life was hopeless. Every page was filled with amounts. “June 10, 2018, owe Mr. Zhao $20,000, to be repaid within one year.” “October 31, 2018, owe Mr. Hu $10,000, to be repaid within one year.” “December 31, 2018, year-end summary, owe Rachel a wedding, to be fulfilled in a lifetime.” I was stunned. Flipping through page by page, my name would appear once every year that passed. On the last page of the notebook, Charlie had written a line in big red letters. “Charlie, don’t forget to marry your girl.” “Remind yourself once every year, hoping that one day you can fulfill your promise!” I didn’t know how to react. I could only smile weakly, hesitating before stuffing the notebook into a compartment of my suitcase. Then I dragged my suitcase, preparing to fly my last flight before leaving. Flying to Denver. After landing, I would transfer to a flight to Canada to directly start my job at Atlantic Airways. I just didn’t expect to encounter Charlie on the flight.

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After making my girlfriend’s restaurant go viral online, the boss’s girlfriend finally decided to reveal my identity at the celebration banquet. But my former apprentice beat her to it, walking up to her parents and arrogantly saying: “Hello, father-in-law and mother-in-law. I’m Emma’s boyfriend.” My girlfriend not only didn’t refute this, but even took out the shares that originally belonged to me and gave them to my apprentice in front of everyone. The restaurant staff was in an uproar, starting to make a fuss. My apprentice kicked me while I was down, and my girlfriend didn’t stop him. She even mocked: “Your cooking skills are indeed okay, but without Ryan’s marketing, no one would know about the stuff you make. You should thank him.” I smiled calmly and nodded: “You’re right. I think just giving him shares isn’t enough. I’ll give him my position too.” I took off my jacket and walked out of the restaurant. I want to see how they’ll keep this restaurant running without me as the head chef and behind-the-scenes promoter. Emma announced to all the employees that Ryan had become one of the behind-the-scenes owners of Magic Bistro. The whole room erupted in cheers. I stared at her in disbelief, my pristine white suit suddenly seeming out of place. “Haha, Jack the cook wearing a suit, how ridiculous!” “What good is cooking skill? This is the internet age. Without Ryan’s online marketing, we wouldn’t have any customers!” “Jack always acted high and mighty as head chef and Ryan’s former mentor, but looks like Emma knows who’s really important to our restaurant.” The employees whispered mockingly. I knew they were taking sides, trying to curry favor with Ryan by mocking me. After all, I was just a cook Emma didn’t value, while Ryan was the new golden boy of this grand restaurant. Ryan put his arm around Emma’s waist and looked at me provocatively, his words dripping with fake courtesy: “Master, you dressed up so nicely today. You must be happy for me too, right?” “But why do you look so upset?” I stared coldly at Emma, wanting her to give me an explanation. Emma’s eyes were filled with disdain. Probably afraid I would cause a scene and ruin her carefully planned celebration, she spoke coldly: “Jack, stop with the attitude. I did promise to give you those shares, but who told you to be so useless? You nearly bankrupted the restaurant before. Not making you pay for it was already merciful of me.” “Is that so?” I looked at the woman before me, my heart sinking to rock bottom. The previous mess was clearly caused by Ryan. He secretly used pre-prepared ingredients at an official banquet without telling me. It was discovered, and I helped clean up his mess because he was my apprentice. Emma knew the truth about this incident. But now they were pinning all the blame on me. I was used to it by now though. Ever since Ryan joined the company, Emma had broken her own principles for him many times. Although Ryan was incompetent, he was young and smooth-talking. He knew how to make her happy. Emma’s heart had long since strayed. “Whatever makes you happy.” I no longer wanted to argue further with them. However, Ryan probably thought I was admitting defeat. A flash of smugness crossed his eyes, but his expression became even more pitiful. “Emma, is Master angry at me? If so, I don’t want these shares. You should give them back to Master. After all, he’s been at the restaurant longer than me.” Hearing this, the mockery on Emma’s face became even more obvious. “Don’t worry about him. Our restaurant rewards contribution, not seniority. He has no skills but still has the nerve to take it out on others.” The other employees around also kept mocking me. Hearing this, I truly felt like all my past sincerity had been fed to the dogs. Emma said she was saving face for me, but when had she ever done that? Magic Bistro was built by Emma and me together. But she didn’t understand management at all. From the very beginning, I was the one in charge. Not only did I build the operations team, I also got hands-on myself, using my family’s culinary skills. I even used my family connections to invite celebrities from various circles to dine at the restaurant, creating this wave of popularity for the bistro. I poured my heart and soul into it for so many years. I never expected that now that Magic Bistro had achieved fame and success, Emma would attribute all the credit to Ryan. Since that’s how it is, there’s no point in staying here anymore. I took a long, hard look at Emma and Ryan. Ryan immediately hid behind Emma. “Emma, I’m scared.” Emma immediately glared at me angrily, “Jack, what are you trying to do?! Don’t tell me you want to get violent? I’m warning you, I can make you leave right now!” I loosened my fists, finding the situation strangely amusing. For Ryan’s sake, Emma had threatened me with this excuse more than once before. But in the past, I liked her too much. I was fooled by her repeated promises. I thought as long as I made the restaurant successful, she would really marry me. But now, I finally saw clearly. I calmly took off my suit jacket. “No need for you to kick me out. I’ll leave on my own!” Probably because I had never defied her like this before, Emma was stunned for a moment. I turned and strode towards the exit. “Jack, stop right there!” Emma’s furious threat came from behind, “If you dare leave today, don’t ever come back!” I didn’t look back. I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in a long time. “Grandpa, I agree to come back and inherit the family business.” My grandfather was the behind-the-scenes controller of the country’s leading restaurant group. But when I first met Emma, she said she hated those good-for-nothing rich kids, so I hid my identity. For her sake, I rejected my predetermined fate, abandoned everything, and eloped with her in a grand escape. I even went from being a rich young master to becoming a cook, all for her. But it wasn’t until now that I realized how laughable my love was. I hung up the phone and returned to the house Emma and I shared to pack my things. On our bed still lay rose petals, candles, a pure white wedding dress, the property deed I had given her, and a dazzling diamond ring. I had countless times imagined how delighted and excited Emma would be when she saw these things. But now, I packed everything into my suitcase, preparing to leave. I opened my social media and saw that Ryan had posted a photo. In the picture, Emma’s cheeks were flushed red as she curled up like a kitten in Ryan’s arms. Although I had already decided to leave, my heart still trembled for a moment. Ryan had even commented below the post: Thanks to all our friends and family for the blessings. If it were the past me, seeing this message would have made me furiously jealous and confronting Emma. But not anymore. I blocked and deleted Emma and Ryan’s accounts. I no longer wanted to see this pair of scumbags. However, just after blocking and deleting them, Emma called. She angrily said, “Jack, what do you mean by this? How dare you block my account? Just because I gave the shares to Ryan? You have no skills yourself but have the nerve to be jealous of others?” My hand gripping the phone tightened. “Do you really not know whether I have skills or not, Emma?” There was a pause on the other end, then Emma’s voice came even louder. “You dare talk back! Jack, you’ve grown too bold! Don’t think you’re all that just because you can cook a bit. What right do you have to compare yourself to Ryan!” “I’ve never compared myself to him,” I said word by word, “Because he’s not worthy!” I hung up after saying that. Emma kept calling back, but I didn’t answer a single call. She switched from calling to texting. “How dare you hang up on me! Who do you think you are! You really think Magic Bistro can’t do without you? If it weren’t for Ryan, I’d be embarrassed to even show off your pathetic cooking skills.” “Let me tell you, hurry up and come apologize to Ryan! I can give you a chance to take me back, otherwise you can forget about marrying me in this lifetime.” I laughed coldly to myself, really not wanting to waste any more time on her. I turned off my phone and went to sleep. In the past, whenever Emma stayed out late and didn’t come home, I would always worry about her safety. I would lie awake all night, silently waiting by the phone. But now, I couldn’t mistreat myself like that anymore. I lay in bed and slept soundly for the first time, not having to worry about the restaurant or work. However, half an hour later, Emma kicked open my bedroom door. A sudden loud bang jolted me awake. Emma’s furious face came into view. “Jack, are you tired of living?! How dare you hang up on me and not come pick me up!” I was irritated from being woken up. I threw off the covers and sat up. “Didn’t you already announce you’re with Ryan? You can have your boyfriend pick you up!” I was just stating facts, but Emma unexpectedly sneered when she heard this. “What are you getting jealous about again! Jack, I’ve never seen such a petty man as you! But…” She paused, “Since you care about me so much, I’ll tell you – there’s nothing between Ryan and me. We only announced it to create buzz for the restaurant.” She leaned in closer. The unpleasant smell of cigarettes on her irritated my nose. Emma didn’t smoke. The smell was very similar to Ryan’s favorite brand. She continued rambling, “Just go apologize to Ryan tomorrow. As long as he forgives you, I can let you come back as the chef.” I looked at Emma’s mocking expression. She seemed certain I would agree. But this time, I just frowned and pushed her away. “Sorry, not going!” I got up and walked towards another room. Emma’s furious voice came from behind. “Jack! You’re really asking for it! Just you wait!” I didn’t look back, just locked the door and went back to sleep. The next morning, I came out of the room stretching lazily. But I saw Emma sitting unusually docilely in the kitchen, like a newlywed wife. In front of her were two bowls of wonton soup. However, the wontons seemed to have been opened before. Emma saw me come out and smiled at someone behind me: “Ryan, come quick! The wontons will get cold soon!” I turned to look behind me. Ryan was shirtless with just a white towel around his waist. He greeted me: “Morning, Master! I worked out with Emma last night and got all sweaty, so I borrowed your shower. Hope you don’t mind.” “Oh? Emma, why did you only buy two bowls? Didn’t you get any for Master?” Emma snorted coldly, “Is he worthy? Come Ryan, let me feed you.” She fed Ryan a wonton with a spoon, then looked at me provocatively. Seeing the smugness in her eyes, I instantly understood. She was trying to provoke me, wanting me to go crazy in front of her. And she would sit like a queen on her throne, enjoying my possessiveness over her. It may have worked in the past, but not anymore. Right in front of Emma, I calmly left. Although I no longer planned to work at the restaurant, I still had to go back one last time. To help boost the restaurant’s reputation for going public, I had begged my grandfather, the Culinary God, to agree to come promote it. No matter what, I had to take care of this. When I arrived at the restaurant, a large crowd had already gathered outside. They must have heard that the Culinary God was coming and were waiting here on purpose. The restaurant had been promoting this for a while, but they didn’t know the Culinary God was coming because of me. Everyone attributed it to Ryan. Ryan had even arrived before me. As soon as I got there, I heard people praising him. “Ryan is really something, boosting the restaurant’s reputation so much that even the Culinary God was attracted!” Others immediately chimed in: “Exactly, that Jack wanted to compete with Ryan. He really has no self-awareness.” Hearing the flattery, Ryan looked very smug. “Don’t say that. If Jack hadn’t looked down on me before and not let me be a chef, I wouldn’t have done such a good job with marketing.” As soon as he finished speaking, someone immediately agreed. “Hmph, I think he’s just jealous. Who does Jack think he is to compare himself to Ryan?” Just as they were enthusiastically kissing up, I walked right in. “Well, if it isn’t Jack? Didn’t you leave? Why are you back?” “Probably saw the Culinary God was coming and came back to mooch off Ryan’s success!” They all looked at me with disdain. I just stared at them coldly. “Who’s mooching off who? Ryan knows best, doesn’t he?” “Such big talk!” Someone immediately stood up to defend Ryan. “Are you saying our Ryan is mooching off you? Look at yourself! What are you?” “That’s right! Our Ryan made the restaurant famous and invited the Culinary God. Can you do that?” Everyone’s eyes were full of mockery. “Don’t tell me you want to say you invited the Culinary God!” “What if I say I did?” “Jack, what trouble are you causing here again!” Emma’s voice came from behind. “Who told you to stand here?” “Emma, you’re finally here!” Ryan immediately stood behind Emma. “Please talk some sense into Master. He’s insisting he invited the Culinary God. The Culinary God is about to arrive. If he hears this…” Emma angrily slapped me across the face. “Who told you to spout nonsense here! The Culinary God clearly came because of Ryan’s reputation. How shameless can you be!” I looked at Emma. “I’m shameless? Emma, you probably still don’t understand who this restaurant really relied on to get where it is today!” “Relied on who?” Emma sneered, “Don’t tell me you want to say it relied on you? Jack, you’re just a cook. Stop trying to take credit.” “That’s right, Master!” Ryan also stepped forward. “You stealing my credit before was one thing, but the Culinary God’s visit concerns the restaurant’s future. I really can’t let you spread nonsense.” Emma came over and slapped me again. “Petty and selfish. Hurry up and apologize to Ryan!” I clenched my fists, seeing the smug smile on Ryan’s face. “What if I don’t?” “Then get out! Get out of Magic Bistro, and I’ll blacklist you in the whole industry. You’ll never work as a chef again in this lifetime!” I raised an eyebrow, finding it amusing. “Blacklist?” Emma probably thought I was giving in. A look of triumph appeared on her face. “That’s right! Jack, you’re just a useless cook, while Ryan has connections with the Culinary God! You’d better understand – if it weren’t for me, you’d never amount to anything in your life!” “Is that so?” I sneered, “Emma, are you sure he has connections with the Culinary God? Are you sure you want to blacklist me for his sake?” “Yes! If you apologize to Ryan now, there’s still time. But this time, you have to kneel.” Emma was confident. Ryan also walked up to me. “Sorry Master, but this is Emma’s decision. I can’t go against it.” The smugness on his face was evident. Just then, a booming voice suddenly came from behind him. “Who dares make him kneel! Who dares!” The crowd immediately parted to make way. Someone exclaimed: “The Culinary God! It’s the Culinary God!”

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The summer of my sophomore year, Logan Hart lured me into his bed. From that moment, he seemed addicted—devoted to me for the next five years. My friends would tease him, calling him overly lovesick: “Even simps aren’t this devoted.” Until one day, I stumbled upon his secret WhatsApp account. Thousands of status updates—all filled with pictures of his childhood sweetheart in plaid schoolgirl skirts. The girl in the photos was youthful and captivating, her charm impossible to ignore. I then realized that these five years were nothing but a trade-off. While his body was with me, his heart had long since found its way to her. Content The night Logan came home. He swept me into the bedroom with impatient hands when he stepped through the door. Logan’s appetite in that department was insatiable; a few days apart were all it took for his restraint to snap. There was no time for romance, just a rush to satisfy his needs. It was familiar, mechanical even. Quick and over. I collapsed onto the bed, barely conscious. Ding! His phone chimed with a notification. Logan glanced at the screen, immediately getting up to leave. “Where are you going this late?” He kissed my forehead softly. “Something came up at work. I won’t be long.” A strange sense of unease crept over me. Call it women’s intuition, but something didn’t feel right. Summoning my energy, I called his office: “Are many people working overtime tonight? I was thinking of sending everyone BBQ as a treat.” “No one’s working late tonight,” his assistant replied. “Mr. Hart gave us all the night off. The office is empty.” I hung up, staring blankly at the bed. If Logan wasn’t at work, where had he gone so late? By early morning, Logan returned with my favorite dumplings from Sullivan’s in Chicago. The dumplings were perfect—thin skin, rich filling, and a burst of savory broth. He grinned, ruffling my hair. “Anything you want, honey, even if it’s the moon, I’ll find a way to turn it into a pie for you.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe I was just overthinking things. The idea of Logan not loving me? My best friend Marlow Hayes wouldn’t believe it for a second. “Sierra, you’re being paranoid again. Logan’s head over heels for you—he’d probably die without you. “You’ve been dating for five years, and every time you argue, who’s apologizing and begging you to make up? “Stop making him wait. Just marry the guy already.” Marlow wasn’t wrong. Logan had indeed given more in this relationship. But she didn’t know the truth—Logan had never proposed to me. He’d always say, “I want to give you the best, baby. Let me build a solid foundation before we talk about marriage.” I was young and didn’t want to be tied down by marriage. So we dragged on like this for five years. As I reheated the dumplings, I caught Logan on the couch, staring at his phone with a soft smile on his lips. “What’s making you so happy?” I asked. Hearing me, Logan quickly erased the smile from his face. “Nothing, just a funny video.” “Show me.” Instead of sharing, he put his phone away and scooped me into his arms.

He huskily whispered, “Nothing’s more beautiful than you.” Before I could argue, he pushed me down onto the bed, kissing and biting me playfully. His phone slid onto the mattress within my reach. It was his WhatsApp, but the account name was unfamiliar—Starry Sky. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I unlocked his phone and combed through the messages and posts individually. What I found left me reeling. The posts told a story of a Logan I didn’t recognize: October 9, 2019: Do you know what I did? I slept with someone else. You betrayed me first, so don’t blame me for doing the same. I remembered that night. Logan had stumbled into my apartment, drunk out of his mind. July 1, 2020: I’m preparing for my grad school exams. Don’t think graduating means you can leave me. That was the day he confessed his love to me. March 17, 2022: You dared to get engaged behind my back? I’ll never forgive you. That night, Logan was so drunk he scratched me in a frenzy, leaving red marks on my back. December 24, 2023: I know you broke up. I’ll always be here waiting for you. That was Christmas Eve when Logan told me he had a business dinner and couldn’t spend the holiday with me. My hands trembled as I scrolled to the most recent post, dated two nights ago—the night he left claiming he had work. “What’s lost will always find a way back to me.” The attached photo featured a young woman in a plaid schoolgirl skirt with a youthful and alluring figure. I zoomed in on the face. It was Wren Keaton, Logan’s childhood sweetheart. A wave of nausea hit me. My hands shook so hard I nearly dropped the phone. These five years hadn’t been love. I was nothing more than a stand-in while his heart stayed with her. Their shared past and youthful romance was their story, not mine. I had been the outsider all along. I didn’t cry or scream. Instead, I calmly took screenshots, saved everything, and placed the phone back where it was. That evening, Logan came to me with a new assortment of “toys.” I turned my back on him coldly. “I’m on my period. Not tonight.” Logan smirked and wrapped me in his arms, his voice teasing yet possessive. “I promise to be gentle.”

Logan tried coaxing me several times, but when I kept refusing, his expression darkened. “Well, babe, get some sleep. I need to swing by the office for work.” Marlow, my best friend, used to joke about Logan’s persistence: “You should be grateful. A man only sticks around like that if he loves you.” I used to think she was right. Logan never hid his physical desires. But now I understand the difference between men and women: men can separate their desires from their hearts, offering one to each. If a man truly loves someone, would he so carelessly hurt her to the point of breaking? On his secret WhatsApp story, Logan once described Wren as: “You’re my moonlight and a red string of fate. Just looking at you from afar is enough to fulfill me.” And yet, the first time Logan and I spent the night together, he treated me with reckless abandon, leaving me bruised and sobbing, begging him to stop. The difference between love and indifference—between us—was a gap I could never cross. I followed Logan to a café. Wren, dressed in a plaid schoolgirl skirt, was waiting at the door. She looped her arms around Logan’s waist as if they were teenage sweethearts. Logan pushed her against the wall, whispering something that made her smile. Under the dim streetlight, the two kissed passionately. From my hidden corner, I snapped photos of the scene. After five years of dating Logan, we’d tried every kind of intimacy, but he’d always avoided kissing me. Watching them, lips locked and bodies closed, I chuckled bitterly. So, it wasn’t that he hated kissing—it was just that he didn’t want to kiss me. Logan trailed kisses down Wren’s neck, stopping when he reached her collarbone. “Let’s leave it here for tonight. I’ll come back tomorrow.” Wren clung to him with a teasing pout. “Going back to that other woman?” Logan hesitated before replying, “You’re the most beautiful. She’s nothing more than a placeholder.” That seemed to satisfy her, and she smiled. Logan added casually, “Does the shop still have any ice cream? I’d like to take one with me.” At that moment, my phone buzzed with a message from Logan: “Hey, sweetheart, I’m bringing you your favorite pistachio ice cream. Happy now?”

He’s out with another woman but still bringing me her ice cream? I replied, “Oh, okay,” my face was cold as stone as I closed the chat. How much longer could he keep up this performance? Not long after, Logan returned, carrying a Sweet Red Bean Dessert. Trailing behind him was an inebriated Colton Rivers, his childhood friend. Colton was too drunk to stand, so Logan dropped him off in the guest room. Late that night, I went to the kitchen for water and overheard their conversation. Logan’s voice was sharp with irritation: “Keep screwing around like this, and don’t expect me to bail you out.” Colton, ever the carefree playboy, slurred in response: “You’re too uptight, man. Women are like clothes—you’ve gotta have a few spares, right?” “Messing around with random women will land you with a disease,” Logan shot back, his tone cold. “Find someone decent and settle down.” Colton chuckled drunkenly. “Like Sierra? She’s perfect—kind, sexy, everything. You’re one lucky guy. “But now that Wren’s back, when will you come clean to Sierra?” There was a long pause before Logan finally said, “Not yet. Wren hasn’t given me the green light.” Colton snickered. “Then pass Sierra my way after you break up. I’ve had my eye on her for ages.” Something in Logan snapped. The sound of a punch echoed through the room. Colton didn’t seem to mind, laughing as he rubbed his jaw. “Don’t play the saint now. Wasn’t it you bragging about how wild she is in bed? And now you’re acting all protective?” Outside the door, my blood ran cold. I never imagined Logan, who treated me so tenderly, could casually share the details of our intimacy with his friends. Then I heard Logan’s voice again, low and devoid of emotion: “Do whatever you want. She’s desperate for love. “Say the right words, and she’ll fall for it. She’s game for anything.” The words crushed me. The next day, I walked into Sugarland Creamery, the dessert shop Wren owned. The shop’s bright and elegant décor perfectly matched her style. When Wren saw me, surprise flickered in her eyes, but she quickly replaced it with a professional smile. I took a single bite of ice cream before setting the bowl down. “When did you get back to the States?” Her smile never faltered. “Just a few days ago.” I’d known about Wren for a long time. By the second year of my relationship with Logan, her name had already surfaced. One day, I stumbled upon a stack of boarding passes to Pacific Harbor in his desk drawer. He was flying there nearly every weekend. When I asked, he said she was unwell and needed his care. But when I had a fever and was hospitalized, Logan had dinner with her in Pacific Harbor. When our anniversary came, he left to see her in the middle of the night. We fought over her countless times. Whenever I threatened to leave, Logan would find a way to win me back.

Later, I heard that Wren Keaton had married while abroad, and that was when she and Logan Hart finally cut ties. Now divorced and back in town, it wasn’t surprising that their old flame had reignited. “How are you adjusting to life up north? Have you found a good place to live? “Why don’t you move in with us? It’s so inconvenient out there on your own.” I smiled warmly, peppering Wren with questions about her return. “Is running the dessert shop tiring? Do you need any help?” Wren grew increasingly uncomfortable, her eyes darting to Logan for rescue. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and interjected, “There’s no need for that. She’s fine where she is.” Before leaving, I bought a serving of ice cream, smiled politely at Wren, and said goodbye. Logan was quiet on the drive home, his expression dark with barely contained anger. Once we were in the car, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He grabbed me, pushing me back into the seat. “What were you doing back there? Trying to humiliate me?” “What are you hiding that you’re so scared of me seeing?” Logan’s hand clamped onto my jaw as he leaned in, his anger simmering under the surface. “Sierra, will you stop making a scene?” I had no intention of playing along anymore. Pulling the screenshots from his secret account, I shoved them in his face. “This is what you call late-night work? Exactly what kind of work needs a bed, Logan?” My voice was ice cold as I threw his words back at him. “You’re the one who’s desperate for love. “She whispers a few sweet words, and you let her do whatever she wants with you. “Logan, you’re pathetic.” “Let’s break up. I never want to see you or your side piece again.” Logan stiffened but quickly masked his reaction, trying to stay composed. “That night was a mistake. We only kissed—I never slept with her.” I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Well, that’s too bad. I still think you’re disgusting. I don’t want to risk catching something.” Logan finally snapped, picking up an ashtray and hurling it against the wall, where it shattered into pieces. “Sierra, do you have to be this cruel?” Blood trickled down his hand from the shattered glass, but he didn’t seem to care. “Was it Colton who told you?” “Why does it matter who told me?” “It has to be him. There’s no one else.” Logan let out a cold laugh, his hand tightening into a fist. “Yesterday, he was joking about sleeping with you, and today you show up here? I’m going to deal with him.” My anger flared. “Who cares who told me? The evidence is right here—you cheated on me!” I thrust his phone into his face, the records from his secret account scrolling past. “If you like her so much, at least have the guts to admit it. All this sneaking around just makes you look pathetic.” Logan couldn’t hold back his anger any longer. He slammed his fist into the table, yelling, “Nothing happened with Wren! Stop making baseless accusations!” I stared at him, unmoved. It was clear he’d rather die than admit the truth. After a long silence, Logan’s expression softened as he spoke evenly. “You’re just looking for an excuse to leave me for Colton, right?” Logan packed his bags with practiced efficiency and walked out of my apartment. “When you regret this, don’t come crawling back.” He gave me a lingering look, his lips curving into a smirk. “No one else will make you feel the way I do.” When Marlow found out about our breakup, she was incredulous. She’d come to comfort me but froze when she saw my calmness. “Your relationship was like a TV drama. I can’t believe it ended like this.” I thought about it for a moment before replying, “A drama? Then I guess I was the lead actress?” “Obviously,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Logan was the male lead. Five years—that’s enough for a hundred episodes.” I laughed. “The man I choose is the male lead. A cheating jerk like Logan? Not even close.” A week after our breakup, Wren Keaton became the target of online harassment. Photos of her and Logan being intimate had gone viral. The internet quickly uncovered her background, and soon, the hashtags about her being a “homewrecker” were trending. Wren cornered me, tears streaming down her face. “Why would you do this to me?” I shoved her hands off me in disgust. Wren stumbled back and fell to the ground, scraping her hand. “Sierra!” Logan stormed in, his face contorted with rage. He barked at me like it was an order. “Get online and clear her name. Now!” “It has nothing to do with me,” I replied, indifferent. “Don’t lie. When did you become so vindictive?” Logan pulled Wren into his arms, shielding her like a fragile creature. “If you hate me, take it out on me! Why go after her? She’s just a young woman who’s done nothing to you.” I took a step closer and slapped him hard across the face. “The photos are all over the internet, and you’re still pretending to be innocent?” Wren quickly jumped in, pulling at Logan with a sentimental tone. “She’s just too hurt. Don’t be mad at her, okay?” I turned and slapped her to the ground. “Oh, I almost forgot about you, you little homewrecker.” Wren shrieked and lunged at me, clawing wildly. “My parents have never hit me. Who do you think you are?” I wasn’t interested in wasting energy on these two lunatics. I called security. “There are two people causing trouble here. Get them out.” Later that night, Logan showed up at my door.

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My sister wanted to kill me, and the moment my mother stepped forward to help her, I stopped struggling. Later, my sister had plastic surgery to look exactly like me. She sat in my bedroom, waiting for my husband to return. My parents hoped she and my husband would live happily ever after, enjoying wealth and fortune. I just laughed—because they had no idea how terrifying that man really is. Today is the day Liam Hawthorne returns from overseas. He’s been out of the country for over two months, and I’ve already been dead for a week. My sister, Nina Dawson, nervously stood as Liam entered the house. “Liam, have you had dinner yet? I had the housekeeper make your favorite—pumpkin soup.” This should’ve been their first time meeting. Yet Liam didn’t seem to notice that his wife had been swapped. Nina had really done it—altered herself from head to toe to look exactly like me. Liam handed his suitcase to one of the staff and rubbed his temples. “I’ll have a bowl.” Nina smiled, perfectly mimicking my gestures and mannerisms, exactly as she’d seen on hidden camera footage. Following behind Liam, she entered the dining room. “Mrs. Jenkins, get a bowl of pumpkin soup for Mr. Hawthorne.” Liam glanced at her briefly. Though there were plenty of staff, I had always preferred to do things myself. I never felt comfortable ordering people around, even though I’d been living in Harbor City for almost two years now. Before I married Liam, I lived in a quiet rural town in South Carolina. And truth be told, Nina was supposed to be the one marrying Liam. The Dawsons and Hawthornes had been close for generations. The Hawthorne family was second in influence in Harbor City—nobody dared claim first. Years ago, our grandfathers had arranged for a marriage between Liam and Nina. But after both passed away, Liam’s family was betrayed in the business world. Liam’s father, in a last-ditch effort, tried to revive the old engagement, hoping the Dawsons would come to the rescue. But my father had already been courted by other powerful players, ready to divide Hawthorne Holdings, caring little for past loyalties. The Hawthornes went bankrupt. Liam’s father died shortly after, and his mother vanished from Harbor City with Liam and their butler. Two years ago, Liam returned with Hawthorne Holdings, crushing every major player in the city. Anyone who had wronged the Hawthornes wasn’t spared—either left buried in debt or sent to prison. Businessmen quietly thanked their stars that this was happening domestically. Liam’s ruthless reputation abroad was notorious. By the time the Dawsons were nearly bankrupt from Liam’s moves, my father remembered the old marriage agreement. Nina, fearing Liam’s wrath, begged me to take her place and marry him instead. My father, like many businessmen, was deeply superstitious. On the day Nina was born, my father landed a major deal, one that propelled the Dawson family to new heights. But on the day I was born, the deal went sour, and the Dawson family lost half its fortune. He believed Nina brought him luck, while I brought him ruin. If it hadn’t been for my grandfather, who fought to keep me alive, I’m certain my father would’ve drowned me at birth. Instead, he told everyone I was ill and sent me “overseas” to recuperate. The truth? I was abandoned in a small southern town, raised by a blind widow. Nina’s name symbolized peace and safety, while my father named me “Early Death.” He hoped I would die young and not curse the family’s fortune. The widow, who cared for me, pitied me and secretly changed my name to Sarah. Though I escaped an early death, I still ended up dying young.

Nina snapped back to reality and spoke softly, “I’ve been feeling lightheaded lately. I was afraid I might drop the bowl.” Liam stared at her for a moment. Nina swallowed hard. I saw the flash of panic in her eyes. How ironic. The night she stabbed me in the heart, she twisted the knife, just to make sure I didn’t survive. Now, she was pretending to be weak. Nina quickly changed her mind, “I’ll get it for you.” Liam looked away and walked into the dining room. “No need. If you’re unwell, you should rest.” I froze for a moment. In two years of marriage, he’d never told me to rest. Now, after I’m dead, I hear it for the first time. It’s odd, though. Despite my frail health when I first arrived at the Hawthorne mansion, I didn’t get sick much in the last year. Two years of sharing a bed, and I finally mustered the courage to whisper his name in his ear. I wanted him to go to the Dawson mansion and get me out of there. Grandma Dawson had passed away, leaving me with no one to care for. Though I was furious about how I died, living had also felt exhausting. The freezer was cold—too cold for me. I’d always had poor circulation, and I just wanted a warm, sunny place to rest. And when I overheard them talking about dismembering my body, I was terrified. If I died in pieces, I’d rather have been drowned as a baby, at least then I would’ve been whole. I’d rather be burned to ash and have my body intact in death. Unfortunately, Liam didn’t react. He just picked up the bowl and started eating. “I heard you’ve been going out a lot recently?” Hearing him ask that, I brightened a little. I knew no one in Harbor City aside from the Dawsons. On my wedding day, my parents had told me that if I didn’t want Grandma Dawson to lose her medicine, I should do everything I could to please Liam Hawthorne. As long as the Dawson family remained stable, the medication wouldn’t stop. Once married off, I was told not to return. So after moving into the Hawthorne mansion, aside from an occasional trip to the grocery store, I hardly ever left the house. No wonder Liam thought it strange. Nina replied sweetly, “The weather’s been unpredictable lately. My parents got sick, so I went to visit them.” Her mention of our parents reminded me of the night she tried to kill me. I fought back with all I had. But my mother, worried I’d hurt Nina, joined my father in holding me down. In that moment, all the strength left my body, and I let the knife sink into my heart. Liam didn’t say much. “Better to go out than sit at home bored,” he commented indifferently. I felt defeated. Liam, so cautious and suspicious by nature, hadn’t noticed anything strange. And now he was saying things to Nina he’d never said to me. On our wedding day, my parents had smiled apologetically at Liam, telling him that I was to repay the Dawson family’s debts. He could do whatever he wanted with me—I was at his mercy. The Dawsons wouldn’t complain. Liam hadn’t treated me as an outlet for his frustrations, but he was distant and cold. After the soup, the two of them headed to the bedroom. Nina sat expectantly on the bed, watching Liam as he finished getting ready. Just as he leaned down toward her, his phone rang. He answered the call, quickly dressed, and left. I wasn’t surprised—he was probably going to deal with some urgent business at the company. Nina looked disappointed but smiled when he turned back. “You’re wearing too much perfume. I liked it better before,” he commented before walking out the door. Nina froze, then quickly lifted her arm to sniff herself, confused when she didn’t smell anything.

Nina hurriedly called Mrs. Jenkins into the bedroom. “Can you smell perfume on me?” Mrs. Jenkins leaned close, sniffing Nina’s arms and neck. “No, I only smell your shampoo.” Nina frowned, pacing back and forth. “When you worked for Sarah, what did she smell like?” Mrs. Jenkins thought for a moment. “She didn’t wear perfume. She never used any of the bottles in her cabinet. Honestly, she smelled of nothing—like she didn’t care to enjoy life.” Mrs. Jenkins had been hired by my mother six months ago, supposedly to help me with herbal broths since I hadn’t conceived. I was thrilled by my parents’ sudden care for me. Even though Mrs. Jenkins never cooked for me, it filled me with hope that maybe, just maybe, my parents had started to care. But I later learned that from the moment Mrs. Jenkins stepped into the house, she was part of the plan. Her real job was to observe my habits and secretly film me, so Nina could perfect her impersonation. Nina smirked at Mrs. Jenkins’ remarks. “Not just unlucky—she was doomed from the start.” Mrs. Jenkins seemed puzzled. “Doomed?” Nina’s smirk faltered for a moment before she recovered and delivered her rehearsed line. “She was always sick. The old widow who raised her was constantly begging my parents for more money to take her to the doctor.” “All that woman ever did was ask us for money. A beggar raising another beggar! Sarah was so pathetic, trying to do everything herself. No wonder she couldn’t even manage the house staff.” I lunged at Nina, throwing punches and kicks, but my fists went right through her. The Dawsons had only sent money for the first few years, and after that, Grandma Dawson paid for everything herself, collecting scraps to raise me. They only remembered me when they needed someone to take the fall. Mrs. Jenkins suggested, “Why don’t you wash your hair again? Maybe it’s leftover shampoo from your place that hasn’t worn off yet.” “Sarah wasn’t picky about these things. She just used whatever Hawthorne Holdings provided. She wasn’t nearly as particular as you are.” Nina pursed her lips, irritated. “I wash my hair every day—why isn’t it gone yet? I’ll wash it again later.” Nina sent Mrs. Jenkins out of the room and then dialed a number. “Master Evans, have you trapped Sarah’s ghost like you promised?” I hovered near the phone, listening to the reply on the other end. “Don’t worry, I’ve bound her soul to the amulet. She won’t even have a chance to reincarnate!” I rolled my eyes as I floated around the room. Master or not, the man had no spine. He sounded more like a salesman desperate to keep his business.

Liam didn’t return for several days. Nina waited anxiously until 8 p.m., her favorite dishes laid out on the table. I licked my lips at the sight. It’s not that Liam and I had no common ground—when it came to food, we had identical tastes. Nina picked at some vegetables and a piece of meat before setting down her fork. She was always strict about maintaining her figure. Her daily intake wouldn’t even match one of my meals. Not only did she care about how food was prepared, she never ate after 6 p.m. Grandma Dawson used to say, “If you can eat, it’s a blessing.” I never held back at mealtime. Mrs. Collins made the best honey garlic chicken. I was practically drooling, and it hurt to think that Nina had no idea what she was missing. Liam paused, glancing at Nina. “You don’t like the food?” Nina smiled sweetly. “I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.” Liam watched her for a long moment before replying, “The housekeeper said your appetite has been much better while I was away. Funny how it disappeared once I got home.” Nina quickly shook her head. “I’ve been feeling a bit off—probably from the heat.” Liam looked down for a second before replying, “Lightheadedness, lack of appetite… we’ll have you checked out tomorrow.” Nina instinctively wanted to refuse, but in the end, she smiled and agreed. She probably figured that as long as it wasn’t a plastic surgeon, she had nothing to worry about. After all, only three people knew what really happened to me.

Hawthorne Holdings owns several hospitals, and whenever I got sick, I’d go there for treatment and bill it to Liam. I was shocked when Liam went with Nina for a checkup. The doctor handed Liam the report. “Mr. Hawthorne, this is Mrs. Hawthorne’s full medical report. She’s in excellent health.” “I remember when she first came here two years ago, she had several vitamin deficiencies, but everything seems normal now. Looks like she’s been taking her supplements regularly.” Back when I first married into the family, I was constantly getting sick. The doctor recommended a full-body checkup. It turned out my poor health was due to malnutrition, so the hospital prescribed all sorts of supplements to help. But taking medicine for so long wasn’t my thing, so after feeling better, I stopped. Whether the medicine had worked or not, I wasn’t sure—but now they were looking at a healthy Nina, who had always been pampered and well-fed. Liam flipped through the report casually, but then his hand paused as he turned the page. I was about to float over to take a peek, but he quickly flipped to the back. After reading it, he asked, “These symptoms—aren’t they usually linked to pregnancy?” I nearly choked in shock. Even though he wasn’t talking about me, he knew I had always taken birth control. Besides, with my poor circulation and chronic weakness, getting pregnant was never in the cards. The doctor shook his head. “It’s been a hot summer. A lot of people are feeling off. I’ll prescribe some peppermint tea for Mrs. Hawthorne. She’ll feel better after finishing a box.” Liam stared down at the report, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Nina, noticing the conversation between Liam and the doctor, felt uneasy. After grabbing her prescription from the nurse, she hurried over to interrupt. “Liam, is there something wrong with me?” The doctor repeated what he’d said earlier, and Nina finally relaxed. Just then, Nina got a call from her parents inviting her back home for dinner, and Liam, noticing, said he would join her. I floated into the car, following along. Since Liam had come back, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he sensed something off about Nina. A man as calculated and ambitious as him wouldn’t waste time without reason. This was Liam’s first time visiting the Dawsons’ house. My parents were thrilled, their voices dripping with flattery as they greeted him. As they all sat in the living room, I was stuck within the invisible bounds that kept me tethered to Nina, unable to stray too far. My mother held Nina’s hand, studying her, and softly asked, “Are you comfortable at the Hawthornes’? Are you sleeping well?” I couldn’t stand watching her fawn over Nina. My gaze drifted toward the old storage shed in the backyard. That day, they sent all the house staff home, tricked me into that shed, and killed me, hiding my body in a freezer they’d prepared ahead of time. I wanted to see if I was still there. If only Liam would take me away from this place. At that moment, my mother gave my father a look, and he quickly invited Liam to the study for tea and a game of chess.

I followed Nina and my mother to the bedroom. My mother spoke in a low, serious voice, “Your father and I dealt with that girl last night.” I sighed in frustration. They were a little too late. Nina wasn’t happy with my mother’s expression. “What’s with that look? Are you regretting it, feeling sorry for her?” My eyes lit up as I stared at them, eager to hear more. My mother gently tapped Nina’s forehead and gave her a half-hearted scolding. “You little ingrate. The only person I care about is you!” I couldn’t help but float closer. “Mom, aren’t I your daughter too? Didn’t you carry me for nine months? Why did you help Nina overpower me?” “All these years, I’ve listened to you, staying in that small town, minding my own business. If you asked, I would’ve gone back without a fight.” I never dared to hope for the same love she gave Nina. But for the sake of ensuring Nina’s perfect life, she chose to erase me completely. She held me down so her other daughter could take my place. The memory of my mother visiting me once as a child blended painfully with the image of her pulling Nina away from my blood-soaked body, careful not to let my blood stain her hands. But I would never get an answer. Nina smiled, satisfied with the response. “Good. Make sure to scatter her remains bit by bit, somewhere far away.” My mother hesitated for a moment before adding, “There’s one thing… she was pregnant. And it was twins.” I felt my spirit sway as I stood there, staring at them in disbelief. Though I had been taking birth control, deep down, I had always wanted a child. Earlier this year, Grandma Dawson was growing weak. I rushed to the small-town hospital to see her. She lay in bed, holding my hand, worry in her eyes. “Sarah, my sweet Sarah. What will you do when I’m gone?” I held back tears and forced a smile. “Don’t worry, Grandma. Liam’s been treating me much better lately.” With her last bit of strength, she raised her hand, and I leaned in close. “Sarah, try to have a child as soon as you can. Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter—someone to keep you company, someone to protect you.” “People need someone to care for to have the strength and hope to go on living.” I nodded. “Yes, I’ll bring them to see you when I have one.” Grandma smiled and asked me to take off the wooden beads from her neck. “I don’t have much to leave you, but these beads were blessed by a monk for my parents. I was born with a light spirit, and my soul was always drifting. Wearing this amulet kept me grounded.” “It might not be worth much, but it’s something to remember me by.” Remembering her words, I looked at the amulet around Nina’s neck. So that’s it. My soul had been tied to that amulet all along. Nina’s voice trembled with fear. “Who else knows about her pregnancy?!” My mother frowned with concern. “That’s what I’m worried about. But I asked Mrs. Jenkins this morning, and it seems no one at the Hawthorne mansion knows.” Nina paled and grabbed my mother’s arm. “Mom, I don’t want to go to prison!” My mother hugged her tightly, soothing her in a low voice. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We won’t let anything happen to you. We’ll just say you went on a trip, and after some time, we’ll report her missing.” “Your father’s working on getting a meat grinder that can even handle bones. We’ll turn her to dust and bury her somewhere remote. That way, there will only ever be one Sarah Dawson.” My mother’s eyes were cold and calculating, but as she comforted Nina, she returned to her warm, nurturing self.

After dinner, the Dawsons accompanied Liam to the glass greenhouse in the backyard for tea. Nina excitedly picked a few garden roses, saying she’d take them back to the Hawthorne house. My mother eagerly encouraged her, saying, “Liam, we grow the best roses in all of Harbor City. They’ve just bloomed this week—you came at the perfect time.” Liam watched Nina picking the flowers, lost in thought. Nina noticed and asked, “Liam, what’s on your mind?” He turned to her. “Nothing. I just remembered you once told me that your sister loved garden roses. This greenhouse was built for her.” Everyone’s faces showed a flicker of discomfort. My father chuckled awkwardly. “That’s true, but Sarah loved them too.” Nina played along, offering a shy smile. Liam said nothing more, and my mother quickly changed the subject. Back at the mansion, Nina offered to help Liam take off his jacket. He opened his arms, letting her do so. Nina stood on tiptoe, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. Liam frowned. “You’re still wearing perfume?” Nina froze, her smile faltering. “No, it must be the shampoo.” Liam gently pulled her hands away. “I just remembered something I need to take care of in the office. I’ll be in the study.” Nina glared at the closed door after he left, muttering, “What, are you not man enough?” I rolled my eyes. She had no idea how powerful Liam was—especially in bed, where he could wear someone out completely. Out of frustration, Nina sniffed her arm again, then went to the bathroom to compare the scent of the Hawthorne family shampoo with her own. “What the hell? It’s the same smell! I haven’t worn perfume in ages!” I grabbed a strand of my hair and took a whiff—there was no smell. Seeing that she was about to take her third shower of the day, I decided to leave the room and explore the house. As I floated out, I saw Mr. Barrett heading into Liam’s study, and I followed him in, curious. ��Look into Mrs. Hawthorne’s whereabouts after I left for France,” Liam Hawthorne said before hanging up the phone.

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The night air bit into my skin as I looked up. “Alice.” Alpha Mike’s tone was clipped, cold, a blade meant to wound. “You’re weak. I cannot have weakness beside me. I, Alpha Mike, reject you.” My heart dropped. “You’re rejecting me? Just… just because I haven’t—” “Because you’re no wolf.” His eyes held no mercy. “You’re a liability.” Around us, whispers bega “Did she really think the Alpha would keep her?” “She’s a disgrace.” My father stood in the crowd, face blank, but I could see it—disappointment, etched like stone. I took a shaky breath, reaching out to her. “Mom… please—” He looked away, lips pressed tight. “Alice,” “you’ve made your bed. Now lie in it.” Tears pricked my eyes. He turned her back, his voice low. “Your new mate will be arranged by morning. Don’t make this harder.” “Moon Goddess, why? Why did you curse me like this?” I’m willing to go back and get married,” I murmured, almost too quietly to hear. “You—” My father began, half-hearted words of persuasion on his lips. “You… agreed?” “Yes, I agreed.” “That’s wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!” “I’ve been saying it all along—you should have agreed sooner! Alpha Nicola is a good match; he doesn’t mind that you haven’t shifted, and he respects you! And not to mention, his pack is only growing stronger…” I closed my eyes halfway, cutting him off with a weary sigh. “Dad, I’m tired.” I wasn’t sure how long I’d been lying there when footsteps sounded outside my door. The birthday girl, Ella, burst in, grinning ear to ear and balancing a slice of cake in her hand. She wore a sparkling gold crown, glinting like something out of a fairytale, giving her the air of a little princess. “Alice, come downstairs and join us!” she said, her voice dripping with cheer. I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “I’m not feeling great. You all go ahead—enjoy yourselves.” Ella’s eyes filling with tears. “Alice… do you… not like me? Is that why… why you never come and celebrate with us?” Here we go again. Playing the innocent, fragile girl who’s somehow always a victim. And of course, all the guys just eat it up. “Drop the act, Ella,” “I’m not coming. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She strolled to the door, but instead of leaving, she turned back with a smug look. “Alice, Alpha Mike ’s going to announce me as his Luna. I guess a weak, wolf-less girl like you should be happy with her place… rotting in the shadows.” She lifted the slice of cake in her hand and hurled it toward me. Instinctively, I raised my arm to block it, but to my shock, she stumbled back, falling with a loud thud. “Ella, what are you trying to pull?” I hissed, my voice low and filled with disbelief. Though I managed to block it in time, the cake still splattered across me, leaving me standing there, humiliated and disheveled. My sister, Ella, lay sprawled on the floor, a faint smile playing on her lips. Then, as if on cue, her eyes welled up with tears, spilling down her cheeks, painting her face with the perfect picture of innocence and betrayal. And just like that, an enraged howl tore through the hallway. “Alice!”

Two men charged up the stairs, their footsteps echoing down the hall. One rushed to Ella’s side, helping her up as she lay on the floor, while the other placed himself between us, his gaze fixed on me with barely contained rage. “Alice, what were you thinking? How could you be so cruel?” Alpha Mike’s voice was low and seething as he pulled Ella into his arms, gently massaging her back. “Are you hurt, Ella? Tell me you’re okay.” Ella looked up at him, her face pale and trembling, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m fine, Alpha Mike. Don’t be mad at Alice… I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” She sniffled, tears shimmering in her eyes, her voice filled with feigned innocence. I scoffed, a cold smile tugging at my lips. “I didn’t do anything,”Mathew, who had been standing in front of them. “Alice, this is too far.” “I told you, it wasn’t me,” I said sharply, turning to leave. The sticky mess of cake smeared across me was as disgusting as the whole scene itself. But before I could step past them, Mathew blocked my path. “Apologize, Alice. Apologize to Ella,” “Apologize?” I asked, incredulous. “For what? I told you, it wasn’t me!” Ella’s soft voice cut in from behind him. “Please, Alpha Mike… don’t be angry with Alice. I’m sure she didn’t mean to… to push me.” She cast a quick, sidelong glance at me, a hint of triumph flickering behind her teary eyes. “Do you see this, Alice? Look at her—she’s willing to forgive you, even after what you did. She’s still defending you!” “Are you done?” I turned and walked back into my room, shutting the door firmly behind me. Outside, I heard Alpha Mike’s frustrated growl, followed by a hard thud as he punched the wall in anger. “Who does she think she is?” he spat. But when he looked down at Ella, the anger melting into something sickeningly tender. “Ella, don’t let this spoil your night. Let’s get you cleaned up, and I’ll take you somewhere special. It’s your birthday, after all. No tears, okay?” Ella nuzzled into his embrace, wiping her tears on his shirt as she flashed me one last victorious glance through the crack in the door. “I won’t cry anymore, Alpha Mike. Not if you’re with me.” Behind the locked door, I sank against the wall. Once, I was the one they took care of—the one they trusted unconditionally, the one they vowed to protect. Growing up in Flowerland, I was fragile, a child plagued by severe allergies and a weakened immune system. The fields of wildflowers that blanketed my home city were beautiful to most, but to me, they were a storm of allergens that would leave me breathless and feverish if I dared step outside without medicine. When I was six, a severe allergic reaction nearly took my life, and my parents, heartbroken but resolute, sent me to live in the colder, flowerless Rivermoon pack with my grandparents. The change in climate gave me a break from the constant risk, and it was there that I met two boys in the small, tight-knit pack that shared our neighborhood: Alpha Mike and Mathew. The three of us were inseparable. They would swear time and time again to be my protectors, promising to make me their “princess,” saying they’d care for me for the rest of my life. When my grandparents passed away a few years later, Mike and Mathew took turns bringing me meals, memorizing every single allergen that could hurt me. In time, they knew my weaknesses even better than I did. As I grew older, my mother began urging me to return to the main pack, convinced I was strong enough to handle it. But I stayed, lingering in the warmth and care of my two closest. I’d begun to feel the stirrings of something deeper between Mike and me, a pull stronger than any friendship—a mate bond. But when did everything begin to unravel?

Everything changed the moment Ella arrived. I was sixteen when my father’s betrayal was exposed, and I had no choice but to move with him to the Riverland Pack, where he’d begun his new life. My half-sister Ella arrived not long after with her mother, my new stepmother. Ella knew just when to lean in, tilt her head, and soften her voice, using her helplessness like a weapon to draw men toward her. Where I was proud and unyielding, Ella made weakness an art form, the kind that could make every male around her feel like they were her knight in shining armor. When she arrived, Alpha Mike and Mathew, the two people I’d thought would stand by me no matter what, looked out for her at first only out of obligation. She was, after all, my sister. But once Ella had gained a foothold, she turned everything into a game I never realized I was losing until it was too late. One evening, I discovered she’d added both of them on WhatsApp, claiming it was to help her manage my needs more easily. But what had been a thread connecting us quickly became a chain tying them to her. Soon, it was no longer our bond of three—but hers. It wasn’t long before I began noticing the whispers, the glances. My connection with Mike grew strained as Ella found ways to insert herself deeper into his world. She didn’t shift yet, but it didn’t matter—her human form was enough to pull him under her spell, leaving me out in the cold. And Mathew, who had once promised to protect me, was swept up in her orbit, too, laughing at her jokes, defending her. Mike had always been impulsive, drawn to extreme sports like a moth to a flame. I’d warned him countless times, but he’d just chuckle and say, “Oh come on, life is too short! Just let me do what I love!” Yet now, for Ella’s sake, he hadn’t touched any extreme sports in six months, all because of a single word from her. On the other hand, Mathew, usually calm and reserved, had taken a surprising turn as well. He never liked crowds and preferred quiet evenings alone. But now, he was the one who insisted on hosting a big birthday party for Ella at our family villa. Mike’s pov I’ve known since I turned sixteen that Alice is my mate, but it feels wrong. She doesn’t even have a wolf. “How can someone so weak become a Luna?” I thought bitterly. “Alice is beautiful, you know,” Mathew said, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Yeah, beautiful enough to drive me crazy,” I snapped, running a hand through my hair. “All the guys in the pack want her—not as a mate, just for fun.” “It infuriates you, huh?” Mathew chuckled. “But she doesn’t even have a wolf.” “Exactly! When we turn twelve, we hear our wolves, but she’s never heard hers. They say she’s cursed,” I replied, frustration bubbling. “No one wants a cursed mate.” “So why not just go for Ella?” Mathew suggested, raising an eyebrow. “She’s easier to be with.” “Ella? Please. She’s not half as captivating as Alice,” I shot back. “But yeah, I’m with Ella. It’s simpler.” “Right, but you’re still pining after Alice,” Mathew pointed out. “You want her as your mistress, not your Luna.” “I can’t help it!” Alice’s pov My father’s choice for an arranged marriage must have been carefully selected, and honestly, that was fine by me. My phone buzzed. “Alice, why haven’t you liked my latest post?” Ella’s message popped up. She was in a lavish princess dress, flanked by Mathew and Alpha Mike. “Look at me, the perfect princess,” I muttered under my breath. I knew she posted it to annoy me. Normally, I might feel upset, but not today. I quickly tapped the like button. “There, happy now?” As for what the three of them thought? That was no longer my concern.

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I’m an ordinary working-class woman, living in a small town and raising a family. When my daughter turned thirteen, I found out that she was actually the only daughter of the Johnson Corporation’s CEO. Years ago, there had been a mix-up at the hospital, and my biological daughter had been raised by the Johnson family. I didn’t hesitate. I immediately brought my real daughter home. I didn’t want the confusion over their identities to torment them for the rest of their lives, nor did I want them to be caught in lifelong resentment and hatred. Both girls are my daughters, and I love them equally. Madison, the girl raised by mistake, had lived with me for thirteen years. We were incredibly close—mother and daughter, friends, even best friends. She never hid anything from me. We watched TV shows together, read novels, played video games, and attended comic conventions side by side. Once, while sitting on the couch watching a soap opera about a mix-up between an heiress and an imposter, Madison asked me, “Why can’t they just get along? Why do they have to fight to the bitter end? The lady treats both of them so well.” “Probably because the script demands it,” I shrugged. “The more dramatic it is, the higher the ratings.” We never imagined that this storyline would become Madison’s reality. Mr. Johnson called me to tell me that Madison was his biological daughter and that he wanted to take her back to the Johnson family. I was stunned, and so was Madison. She said it had to be a scam and refused to go. But after looking at the DNA test results sent by the Johnson family, I knew they wouldn’t joke about something like this. Eventually, the Johnson family came to take Madison. A Rolls-Royce pulled up outside our old apartment building, drawing the attention of everyone in the neighborhood. Madison was nervous and uneasy; she was about to meet the parents she had never known. My husband and I stood downstairs with her as they arrived. I asked the person picking her up, “Can I go with Madison to the Johnson home?” The person hesitated and called Mrs. Johnson. “You may,” Mrs. Johnson replied. Madison visibly relaxed, clearly happy that I was coming along. We took the Rolls-Royce to the airport. The Johnson family didn’t live in this small town; they were based in San Francisco. On the private plane they’d arranged, Madison was ecstatic. It was her first time flying, and she spent the entire flight gazing out the window at the clouds, exclaiming, “Mom, it’s so beautiful!” Watching her excitement stirred complicated feelings within me. I didn’t know whether this swap of identities would be a blessing or a curse for both Madison and my biological daughter, Savannah. Yes, my real daughter was Savannah Johnson. I had come to the Johnson family partly to support Madison but also to bring my biological daughter, Savannah, back home. When we arrived in San Francisco, I was flooded with emotions. Years ago, when my husband and I visited San Francisco, I’d gone into early labor at a hospital here. That’s when Madison and Savannah were mistakenly switched, sending them down different paths for the first thirteen years of their lives. The Johnson mansion was opulent, with a pool, gardens, and a gym. Everything Madison had never known was now hers. Everything Savannah had grown used to was no longer hers. I wondered how these two girls would handle the stark contrast between their lives. Mrs. Johnson stood before me, stunning and impeccably groomed, with an air of grace and elegance. “Thank you for taking such good care of Madison for the past thirteen years,” she said, hugging Madison close, unable to look away from her. Standing next to her was a young girl, whom I guessed was Savannah—my biological daughter. She resembled me, but her expression was troubled, her eyes unreadable. I stepped forward and embraced her. She resisted at first, but in the end, didn’t pull away. I gently stroked her cheek and said to Mrs. Johnson, “Thank you for taking care of my daughter for these past thirteen years. She’s beautiful, and she looks a lot like me.” “I’m planning to catch the evening flight back to Cedarville with Savannah,” I added. “We’re on a tight schedule, so we’ll head out.” For a moment, no one spoke. Mrs. Johnson, Savannah, and Madison all remained silent. After a while, Mrs. Johnson finally said, “I love Savannah. She’s my daughter too. She can stay here with Madison if she wants.” Savannah visibly stiffened and swayed slightly. “Mom,” Madison and Savannah both called out, though Madison was speaking to me and Savannah to Mrs. Johnson. Savannah was the first to speak up. “Mom, I’m going back with my mom.” “Don’t overthink it, Savannah. You’ll always be my daughter. You can stay,” Mrs. Johnson urged, her affection for Savannah evident. I smiled. “Savannah is my daughter too. I haven’t seen her for thirteen years, and I’ve missed her dearly.” The Johnsons were a wealthy family, offering a world of resources and status that I could never give to either Savannah or Madison. Mrs. Johnson was kind and loved both girls deeply. But I knew that Madison returning to the Johnson family and Savannah coming home with me was the best decision for both of them. I couldn’t irresponsibly leave my biological daughter behind, nor could I selfishly keep Madison, ruining her future. “As mothers, we both love our children. I hope you understand,” I said. Mrs. Johnson didn’t argue further and agreed. Before we left, I told Madison she was welcome to visit us anytime she missed me or my husband. Mrs. Johnson also assured Savannah that she would always love her and that the Johnson home would always be open to her. That night, Savannah and I boarded the plane back to Cedarville.

On the flight, Savannah remained silent, and so did I. I could tell she was struggling. Her first thirteen years had been secure, comfortable, and privileged. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson had treated her like the apple of their eye. Now, she had been told that everything she knew was a lie, and that I was her real mother. Anyone would have a hard time accepting that. As I stared out at the dark clouds, I wondered how I could help her come to terms with everything and build a relationship with her. By the time we landed in Cedarville, it was late at night. Both of us were hungry, so I suggested we grab a bite to eat before heading home. She nodded in agreement. I knew of a little diner at the intersection of two streets downtown that served great food. The alleyways in Cedarville were narrow and tricky to navigate—only locals really knew how to find this place. Even though Cedarville wasn’t as bustling as San Francisco, it had its own charm, with bright lights filling the night sky. Savannah had never been to a place like this. Though she didn’t say much, I could see her excitement in her wide-eyed curiosity. Her eyes gleamed as they reflected the lively scene around us—the food carts passing by, the small, low stools and chairs, and the simple disposable utensils wrapped in cheap napkins. I pulled her toward a little diner that sold burgers and hotdogs, the one I frequented. “Do you like spicy food?” I asked Savannah. She shook her head. “Hey, Mike,” I called to the owner. “Two large mac and cheese, one with spice and one without.” “Got it,” Mike replied. “And two bottles of Coke, right?” I added. Savannah gave me a surprised look. It was late in the fall, and she hadn’t expected me to order iced drinks. Not long after, two steaming plates of mac and cheese arrived, along with two cold bottles of Coca-Cola. I grabbed a bottle opener and expertly popped the caps off both sodas. “How did you do that?” Savannah asked, clearly impressed. She hadn’t learned how to open glass bottles yet. I laughed and called out, “Mike, bring two more Cokes!” I picked up the opener again. “Watch closely.” I popped another cap off with a quick flick. “Here, your turn,” I said, handing her the opener. Savannah hesitated before taking it. She tried twice but couldn’t quite get the cap off. “You’ve got to hook the lip of the opener under the cap,” I explained, guiding her hand, “and then use a bit of force.” With a pop, the bottle opened. Savannah looked up at me, pleased, but the joy quickly faded, and she dropped her gaze again. I knew she still harbored resentment toward me, still uneasy about my decision to bring her home. I sighed. “I know you’re struggling to accept me as your mother, and you’re upset that I took you away from the Johnsons.” Savannah gripped her Coke bottle, then relaxed her hold. Her reaction didn’t surprise me; I expected her to feel this way. “When Mrs. Johnson asked if you could stay, why didn’t you agree?” “I didn’t want to make Mom feel awkward,” she whispered softly, still calling Mrs. Johnson “Mom.” I took a sip of my Coke, the cold liquid refreshing. “Savannah, in this situation, staying with the Johnsons would have made things uncomfortable for you.” “No, it wouldn’t,” she said firmly. I didn’t push the issue further. “Eat up. The food won’t taste as good once it gets cold.” I picked up my fork and dug into the mac and cheese. It was delicious—neither too greasy nor too dry, just right. Savannah eyed the simple plates and utensils, hesitating, but then took her first bite. After swallowing, her expression shifted to surprise, and she continued eating. “Tastes better than you thought, huh?” I laughed. “Sometimes, you don’t know what you like until you give it a try,” I said, watching her with a smile. We were both starving from the long day, and soon, we’d finished two large plates of mac and cheese and four bottles of Coke. To be precise, Savannah had one bottle, and I drank the other three out of a sense of not wanting to waste them. Savannah watched me drink the last of the soda and then remarked, “You’re really different from Mrs. Johnson.” I chuckled. “Oh, you’ll see. There are plenty more differences.” After dinner, we walked home. It was dark, with only the faint yellow glow from the streetlights guiding our way. Savannah pulled her suitcase behind her, keeping her distance from me. We trudged along in silence, step by step, until we finally reached our apartment complex. Our building was old, with six floors and no elevator. The motion-sensor lights in the stairwell barely worked. Savannah stared up at the dark, seemingly endless stairwell and shrank back a little. “Let me carry your suitcase for you,” I offered. She handed it over without protest, and I led her up the stairs to our apartment on the sixth floor. “Savannah, welcome home,” I said when we reached the door. She took a moment to glance around, though there wasn’t much to see in the dark. “That mac and cheese was really good,” she said out of nowhere. Then she added, “And the Coke was nice too.” I unlocked the door, one hand on Savannah’s shoulder as I pushed it open. “Welcome home,” I repeated.

Once inside, I found a pair of new slippers for Savannah, not wanting to give her Madison’s old ones. Our apartment was small, just three bedrooms and a living room. One room was mine and James’s, one had been Madison’s, and the other belonged to her younger sister, Emma, who was away at boarding school. Since Emma was rarely home, I decided Savannah could stay in her room for now. Madison’s room still had all of her things in it, and I didn’t want Savannah to feel uncomfortable seeing them. I’d get it ready for her tomorrow. “Savannah, this is your sister Emma’s room. You can sleep here tonight, and I’ll have your own room ready tomorrow,” I told her. “Okay,” she nodded. Savannah walked into the room and turned on the light. The space was small—tiny compared to her room at the Johnson mansion. There was a bed, a desk, a chair, a closet, and a simple bookshelf made from cheap materials. On the shelves were a few scattered children’s books, some school supplies, a worn-out dictionary, and an old English dictionary with frayed edges. Savannah frowned as she sat on the bed. I knew she felt awkward, unsure of how to adjust to her new surroundings. “Here’s a new set of pajamas for you,” I said, handing her a neatly folded pile of clothes. “The sheets are fresh too, so you don’t need to worry,” I added. “It’s not that, I just…I’m not used to it,” Savannah admitted quietly. “I understand,” I said, touching her hand gently. “Let me know if you need anything,” I said as I turned to leave. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” I said as I left the room, leaving the lights on. I kept the light in the living room on as well, in case she got up in the night and needed to find her way to the bathroom. That night, I lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. I was worried about how Savannah would handle the transition, and whether Madison was adjusting to life at the Johnson home. My mind raced, and I wasn’t sure when I finally fell asleep. The next morning, I was up by seven. Savannah had probably been exhausted from the previous day, so I didn’t wake her. Instead, I went about tidying up Madison’s old room, swapping out the sheets and packing away her figurines and collectibles. I noticed that Savannah’s suitcase had a Golden Retriever drawn on it, and her phone case also featured a Golden Retriever. Quietly, I made a note to pick up a Golden Retriever pillow for her later. After cleaning up Madison’s room, I prepared breakfast and left a note for Savannah on the table. I headed out to the farmer’s market, buying a fresh fish, some ribs, and a few vegetables. On my way back, I passed a new toy store and picked out a Golden Retriever stuffed animal and a matching pillow. When I returned home, Savannah had just woken up and was getting ready for the day. I set the breakfast on the coffee table: golden-brown donuts, rich and creamy soy milk, freshly sliced pickles, tofu covered in a tangy sauce, and steaming tea eggs. The smell of food filled the house. “Good morning,” Savannah said nervously. “Well, it’s not really morning anymore,” she added sheepishly. “I slept in too late.” “Come eat,” I said, placing a donut on her plate. “I love pairing pickles and tofu with donuts. I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but we can always switch it up if you don’t,” I told her. I stood up and asked, “Want some spicy kimchi or pickled veggies? I’ve also got vinegar and hot sauce in the kitchen.” “No, no, this is fine,” Savannah replied quickly. She sat up straight while eating, carefully holding her chopsticks, chewing silently, and maintaining an elegant posture, just like a princess. After breakfast, I went to wash the dishes, and Savannah hesitated, as if she wanted to help but didn’t know how to ask. “Savannah, could you help me dry the dishes after I wash them?” I asked. “Of course,” she said, rushing over. It was clear she wasn’t used to this kind of work, moving awkwardly as she dried the plates, but I patiently waited as she finished each one before handing her the next. “Savannah, how about grilled fish and barbecue ribs for lunch? I picked up some fresh fish at the market this morning.” “That sounds good,” she said. After we finished cleaning up, I took her hand and led her to her room. “I tidied up Madison’s old room earlier. Take a look and see if you need anything else,” I said. “Oh, and I got these for you,” I added, handing her the Golden Retriever stuffed animal and pillow. “Savannah, how about we put these on the bed?” I suggested. “Okay,” she nodded. I placed the plush toy and pillow on her bed. “There’s a new toy store near the market,” I explained, “I wasn’t sure what to get, so I picked these. Next time, let’s go together and pick out more of what you like.” I watched her nervously, hoping she’d like them. She gently touched the stuffed animal, and then, unexpectedly, tears began streaming down her face, soaking the soft fur of the Golden Retriever. I stood there silently, not knowing what to say, leaning against the wall. Savannah hugged the plush toy tightly. “Savannah?” I whispered softly. She broke down, crying uncontrollably. The sudden shift in her life had been too much for a thirteen-year-old to handle. She had been holding back her emotions for too long, ever since the DNA test results came out. I walked over and embraced her, gently stroking her back. This time, she didn’t resist and sobbed in my arms, her tears soaking my shirt. But they weren’t cold; they were warm, carrying the heat of her small body. “Mom,” Savannah finally cried out. “Mom, I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Savannah. I’m just so happy, so happy,” I said, holding her tightly. It felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us in that moment. “It feels like my first thirteen years were stolen from me,” Savannah choked out. “When I saw the DNA test, I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want it to be real.” “I know, sweetie, I know,” I said, brushing her hair. “This wasn’t your fault. I love you, and Mrs. Johnson loves you too.” She stayed in my arms, crying until she had no more strength left. I held her the entire time. Sometimes, you just need to cry it all out. Finally, Savannah calmed down. I handed her some tissues to wipe away her tears. “Now, do you think your room needs anything else?” I asked. “No, it’s fine,” Savannah said quietly. “Do you like any particular colors? Maybe we can change the bedding,” I offered. “Green,” she said after thinking for a moment. “A deeper green, like the color of tree leaves in the summer.” She pulled out her phone and showed me a picture. “Got it. I’ll make sure your bedding is that exact shade of green,” I smiled at her. Together, we changed the bedsheets and added a few potted flowers around the room. Savannah looked around, satisfied. “Not bad,” she said with a small smile. That afternoon, around five, Emma came home. Since she stayed at her school most of the time, she didn’t yet know about the mix-up between Savannah and Madison. As soon as she walked in, she called out, “Sis, sis!” “Emma, I need to tell you something,” I said. “What is it, Mom? Hurry, I want to hang out with my sister!” Emma said impatiently. “Madison is actually the only daughter of the Johnson family. Savannah is your real sister. They were switched at birth,” I explained. Emma stared at me, clearly confused. “What are you talking about, Mom? What Johnson family? What Savannah?” she asked, her face scrunching up. I told her the whole story, and from her expression, I could tell she understood. But she refused to accept it. “No, Mom, you’re lying! You’re lying to me! Madison is my real sister. We even have the same last name! She’s been my sister ever since I was born.” Emma shouted and ran to Savannah’s room. “Sis, sis!” she yelled, but when she saw Savannah instead of Madison, she cried out, “Who are you? You’re not my sister! Get out! Give me back my sister! Go back to your Johnson family!”

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One day, after returning home early from a business trip, I overheard my seven-year-old daughter say something to my wife. “Mom! I really like Daddy Jonathan! Can I go out with him again?” I stood frozen at the doorway, hearing my wife, who was always so cold to me, respond with a smile to our daughter. “Of course, sweetie! He’s your real father, after all. As long as you like him, that’s all that matters.” My name is Micah Miller, and Jonathan Reed… he’s my wife’s first love. I secretly did a paternity test, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it. I couldn’t accept it… The daughter I’ve raised for seven years isn’t mine? It was a devastating blow to me. I smoked cigarette after cigarette, filling the entire office with a thick, suffocating cloud. It wasn’t until my assistant, Megan Carter, came in that I realized I needed to put it out. She asked, “Mr. Miller, are you okay today?” I forced a grim smile and shook my head, asking her what was on her mind. She placed a stack of files on my desk. “The project you’ve been working on has come through. It just needs your signature.” “Alright, leave it there.” I nodded. She hesitated, seeing how distracted I was, but then she turned and left without saying anything. I lit another cigarette, watching the smoke swirl around as it blurred my vision. It eventually settled on the paternity test that had been lying on my desk for days. I stared at it, lost in thought, for what felt like forever. I only snapped out of it when the cigarette burned down and singed my hand. With a deep breath, I slowly opened the envelope. It was something I had to face sooner or later. What was there to be afraid of? The result was clear: the daughter I had adored for seven years had no biological connection to me. “…” Strangely, when I saw the result, it felt like a huge weight had finally been lifted off my chest. I wasn’t upset or anxious anymore, but… oddly calm. In hindsight, I should’ve suspected something was off long ago. Seven years ago, I was still pursuing Samantha Bennett, but she didn’t show much interest in me. In fact, she seemed to dislike me. Then, out of the blue, she asked me out for dinner one night, got me drunk, and things naturally progressed from there. I didn’t use protection that night. She said it was fine, that she was in her safe period. The next few times we met, she didn’t ask me to use protection either. After that, her attitude toward me became softer. At least, she acknowledged I was her boyfriend. Not long after, she dropped a bombshell: she was pregnant and wanted to keep the baby. When she gave birth, it was a rough delivery. She nearly bled out. If it weren’t for the doctors’ quick thinking, both she and the baby might not have survived. I didn’t want her to ever go through that kind of pain again, so I got a vasectomy. Having one daughter was enough for me. Looking back now, I can’t believe how naive I was. I never questioned her for a second! Samantha knew who the baby’s father was from the start, which is why she had no problem with me not using protection. I had been played for a fool—just a convenient option to raise someone else’s kid. The child I’ve loved for seven years wasn’t mine at all. She was Jonathan Reed’s. What a joke! If I hadn’t come home early from that business trip, I might have never found out that I was raising another man’s child. Thank God for my daughter’s innocent honesty. If she hadn’t blurted it out, Samantha would’ve kept it hidden forever. Honestly, I wish I hadn’t found out. I wish she had kept this from me for life because now… everything has changed. Our marriage, which had seemed like a free-spirited romance, wasn’t simple at all. There were deeper, more complicated motives behind it. 2 Samantha’s and my family backgrounds weren’t all that different. Both of our families ran businesses. When I first pursued her, it wasn’t for her family’s money; my family wasn’t any worse off than hers. But over time, our families became business rivals. My father thought that marrying Samantha could help form an alliance between our companies. It was convenient because I’d already been pursuing her for quite a while. At the time, I didn’t know that our relationship would become so transactional. It wasn’t until she was pregnant, and I visited her family, that I realized there was more going on behind the scenes. Both of our parents laughed it off, saying, “What a coincidence! Business rivals on the surface, but in private, we’re becoming family!” Looking back, it’s ridiculous. Samantha and her family were using me. In fact, I’m certain this wasn’t a coincidence at all. It was a calculated move from the start. I had known for a long time that Samantha didn’t really like me. After we got married, she was cold and distant. But I convinced myself that the child was mine. I thought I had to take responsibility and make sure I didn’t let her down. I believed that if I was sincere enough, eventually, I would win her heart. I thought that over time, she’d feel the same love she had shown me in the beginning, when she seduced me so easily. But now, all my sincerity and good intentions feel like a joke. I’m the clown in this story. Lily, my daughter, seemed to know the truth all along. She knew she had another father… Could it be that whenever I left on business trips, the father she thought about wasn’t me? Samantha has been watching from the sidelines all these years, letting me run in circles, fooled by their lies. I must look ridiculous in her eyes—a perfect, unsuspecting fool. Haha. I don’t even know how to describe my feelings right now. I just know I’m strangely calm. Ding. A text message came through. It was from Samantha, which was rare. She hardly ever reached out to me first. “I heard you’ve been back from your trip for a few days? Why haven’t you come home? Lily’s been crying for you, saying she misses her daddy!” I let out a bitter chuckle, shaking my head. Crying for me? Or is she crying for the other dad? How can you, as her mother, not know which one she means? I’ve been home for a week now, but they didn’t seem to notice. The first message I get is today. I had planned to surprise them with my return, but instead, they’re the ones who surprised me—no, shocked me. I needed some time alone to cool off. Otherwise, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about all of this. No man could stay calm after discovering something like this, pretending nothing had happened. I didn’t want to blow up in front of Lily. No matter what… she’s still an innocent child. So, I didn’t go home. I didn’t tell anyone. I stayed at the office, with Megan bringing me meals. I scrolled back through my messages, seeing the one I sent her that night after I found out the truth. I’d told her I’d landed a big project and would be busy for a while… and she hadn’t responded. Maybe she hadn’t even noticed it. Or maybe, like always, she just didn’t care what I had to say. I put down my phone and lit another cigarette. The ashtray on my desk was already filled to the brim with stubs. “Whoosh—” I exhaled a cloud of smoke, leaning back in my chair as I stared at the fading swirls. Exhaustion washed over me. What did I do wrong? Why would she do this to me? Was I trying to warm up a heart that couldn’t be warmed? Or… was I the one who was wrong from the start? Maybe it would’ve been better to remain in the dark. 3 I didn’t reply to Samantha’s text. She never had much patience with me, so it didn’t take long for her to call. Her voice was sharp and demanding right from the start. “Micah! What are you doing? Why aren’t you answering my texts?” “Oh, sorry. I’ve been busy at work…” I didn’t even finish before she cut me off, her voice dripping with impatience. “Work, work, work! Is that all you care about? Don’t you know you have a family? Don’t you realize your daughter needs you?” “…” I stayed silent, my mind buzzing. I wanted to ask her so badly: And you, Samantha? Don’t you know you have a husband? Does he know that his daughter isn’t even his? Does he know you’ve been lying to him all these years? The words stuck in my throat, and my eyes fell on the family photo on my desk—Lily’s bright, innocent smile staring back at me. I swallowed my anger. “She’s sick. Pick up some of her favorite snacks and bring them to the hospital,” she said coldly before hanging up. I stood there, listening to the dial tone with a bitter smile. Funny. Why didn’t she call the other dad for this? I could easily guess what had happened. Lily probably wore herself out playing too much, and now it was up to me to clean up the mess. I saw the location Samantha sent me, and as much as it filled me with humiliation and anger, I couldn’t bear to think of Lily looking so small and sick. Seven years. Seven years of loving this child. How could I not care about her? So I sighed, put on my coat, and went to buy her favorite snacks before heading to the hospital. When I got to the hospital room, I heard Lily’s voice through the door, clear as day: “Daddy Jonathan, look! I was so brave! I didn’t even cry when they gave me the shot. Wasn’t I the best?” Through the small glass window on the door, I saw him—Jonathan Reed, wearing a doctor’s coat, smiling at Lily. “Yes, you were so brave! Just like my little girl should be,” he said, ruffling her hair as she giggled. Beside them, Samantha’s face was soft, warm, and full of affection. In the seven years we’ve been married, I’ve never seen her look at me like that. My heart clenched. That man in the doctor’s coat—Jonathan Reed—was her first love. And now, as if life was mocking me, he was Lily’s real father. Watching their happy little family from the hallway, I felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of isolation. It was as if they were a family of three, and I… was just the outsider. No, scratch that. They are a family. Lily is their daughter. And I? I’m just the outsider. The joke. It felt like a weight was crushing my chest. I could barely breathe. Why did this hurt so much? I rushed here, bought her favorite snacks, thinking she needed me, only to find out the real reason they wanted me here was because Jonathan was the doctor on call. Lily got to see her biological dad, and Samantha got to be with the man she truly loved. And me? I’m nothing more than a joke. The biggest fool in the world. 4 It felt like a green light was flashing over me, head to toe, branding me as the fool. I stood frozen in place. I couldn’t move. It wasn’t until Jonathan noticed me standing outside that he adjusted his glasses and said, “Micah?” The moment my name left his lips, Samantha’s warm smile disappeared, replaced by her usual coldness. She didn’t even try to hide her contempt for me. “You’re finally here! Took you long enough! Lily hasn’t eaten a thing since she got sick. Are you trying to starve her?” Of course. The familiar tone. That suffocating pressure she always brings. It made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry, Lily. Daddy’s late, but I brought you your favorite…” I forced a smile as I spoke to my daughter. Before I could even finish, Samantha cut me off again, her voice sharp. “What’s the point of showing up now? Dr. Reed already brought her food. You’re always too busy to be there for your own daughter, and it’s always left to someone else to take care of her!” Lily, always so “understanding,” added, “Thanks, Daddy! But Dr. Reed says I can’t have dessert after meals, haha.” I stared at her, the same little girl I’d loved for seven years, and felt a strange, bitter taste in my mouth. She probably thought she was being so considerate. But I couldn’t help it… For the first time, I felt a sense of unfamiliarity and… disgust toward the child I’d raised. It was as if she wasn’t mine anymore. And that “Dr. Reed”—just minutes ago, wasn’t she calling him “Daddy Jonathan”? She had grown up. She knew not to call him “Daddy” in front of me anymore, playing along with the lies Samantha had spun all these years. What a good daughter, huh? “So, Daddy waited in line for a long time to buy your favorite snacks. You don’t want them?” I held out the bag, but my expression was slipping. Lily hesitated. After all, they were her favorite treats. “Leave them. Lily didn’t eat much. She can have them as a snack later,” Jonathan said, always the rational doctor. Lily’s eyes lit up as she clapped her hands. “Yay! I get to have them later!” “No!” Samantha scolded from the side, her voice sharp. “You’ve already had dinner! No more snacks, especially after you’ve brushed your teeth. You don’t want to get cavities, do you? Be good and listen to Mommy.” She called me to buy the snacks, but now she’s the one making the rules. I was holding back my frustration, not wanting to lose my temper in front of Lily. “It’s fine. She’s still sick. She needs the sugar for energy. Besides, she’s growing. She could use the extra calories,” Jonathan chimed in, making it all seem so reasonable. Lily looked up at Samantha with those puppy eyes, silently pleading. “See, Mommy? Dr. Reed said it’s okay!” “Alright, just this once,” Samantha finally relented, and Lily cheered happily. “You spoil her too much,” she said to Jonathan, her tone warm and affectionate. “…” I stood there, feeling out of place, as if they had forgotten I existed. The room wasn’t that big. Four people could fit in it, but in their eyes, there were only three of them. I was nothing more than a ghost.

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I had a stomach ache and went to St. Thomas’ Hospital alone for an IV drip. While I was there, I caught my boyfriend, Alexander, tending to his first love, Isabella. He was feeding her the chicken soup I had made myself, spooning it into her mouth one bite at a time. In that moment, I recalled a conversation he’d had with his friend James. “Alexander, what do you like about Scarlett?” “She’s easy to coax and deceive.” In the hospital ward, Alexander lowered his eyes, blew gently on the spoon, and handed it over. “Have another bite,” he said. Isabella’s pale face flushed slightly as she obediently opened her mouth. I stood at the door, watching this scene unfold, my heart aching as if it were being pierced by a knife. Just last night, Alexander had suddenly expressed a craving for chicken soup. I woke up early this morning, went to Borough Market, then spent hours simmering the soup on the stove. At noon, I proudly carried the thermos to his office in the City of London. To my shock, I was merely playing the role of someone else’s caregiver. “Your girlfriend is quite the homemaker,” Isabella remarked, a hint of mockery in her voice as she smirked. “Yeah. What would you like to eat tomorrow?” Alexander replied, his expression as indifferent as ever. He set down the bowl and casually pulled out a tissue to wipe the corner of Isabella’s mouth. “Eat you,” Isabella teased. “Stop joking,” Alexander said with a nonchalant tone. His indifference only made Isabella laugh harder. My throat tightened, and I found it hard to breathe. The haze in front of my eyes thickened. When my vision finally cleared, I realized I was making eye contact with them. A flash of surprise crossed Alexander’s face, followed by a frown. “So you’re Scarlett? You’re quite pretty, and your cooking skills are impressive too,” Isabella said, her innocent smile belied by her scrutinizing gaze. She wore a rose gold necklace that was both beautiful and painfully striking to me. Suddenly, I felt a rush of blood to my head, and my stomach began to ache again. I forced myself to respond, “I don’t deserve the compliment. I’m just young.” Isabella’s smile faltered. Alexander’s frown deepened as he noticed the white tape on my right hand, hesitating for a moment. “Do you need me to take you back?” he asked. It was already quite late. The fact that he asked meant he didn’t genuinely want to. I forced a smile. “Yes.” Alexander paused, glancing at Isabella, who was clinging to his sleeve, then back at me. But he didn’t move. My heart grew even heavier. I shook my head and turned to leave. He didn’t follow. In a daze, I recalled the harassing phone call I received a few days ago. “Alexander’s girlfriend? You? He loved me so deeply back then. No one can replace me. Just wait and see!” The caller didn’t give me a chance to respond before hanging up, leaving me feeling taunted. Lost in thought, I received a multimedia message. It was a selfie. She was strikingly beautiful—bold and flamboyant. I was baffled. What was wrong with this person? At that moment, Alexander was beside me. I showed him my phone. “She’s Isabella, your first love, right?” Alexander quickly glanced at the image, nodded, and deleted the message. “Scarlett, she’s mentally unstable due to some trauma. Just ignore her,” he said. I wasn’t angry; I just thought it was childish and ridiculous. I pressed on, “Did she contact you?” He didn’t deny it, simply replying coldly, “Annoying.” At that moment, I realized the childish and ridiculous one was me. And I was the one being annoyed. Suddenly, all the details I had previously overlooked came flooding back like a tidal wave. Alexander had been working late frequently, sometimes not coming home at all. He would go out to the balcony to take calls, lowering his voice, and the conversations would stretch on for a long time. I had found a receipt for an expensive ladies’ necklace in his suit pocket, which he claimed was for a client. … And I had never suspected a thing. When we first got together, I had accidentally overheard a conversation between him and James. “What do you like about Scarlett?” “As long as I can coax and deceive her.” Later, Alexander casually dismissed it as a joke. He navigated this relationship with such ease, controlling me perfectly with just a few words. In reality, the signs had always been there. I had just been too naive and self-righteous to see them. After three years of dating, I, like a small stove providing warmth in the snow, couldn’t compete with the moonlight that enhanced his life. 2 The first time I met Alexander was quite remarkable. After graduating from university, I had a big argument with my family over work and decided to move out to rent a cheap old house. It was late after my farewell dinner. When I returned, I found a drunk man sprawled in the hallway of the London residence. He had thin lips, a high nose, and slightly flushed cheeks. His long eyelashes cast shadows across his face. He looked quiet and haggard, evoking a sense of sympathy. I carefully patted him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes, and the bright lights of the hallway reflected in his dark gaze like a full moon. “Sorry to scare you,” he said, his hoarse voice somehow more charming in the stillness of the night. He stood up, irritably tugging at his tie, then turned to open the door. I instinctively said, “It’s okay. You should drink less in the future; it’s not good for your health.” The sound of the key turning in the lock paused. He turned back, squinting at me, his expression inscrutable. After a moment of silence, he replied, “Yeah.” “Um, well… I’m Scarlett, and I live opposite you.” “Alexander.” The sound insulation in the hallway was poor, and I could hear every time Alexander opened or closed his door. Gradually, I figured out his routine. He usually left at seven in the morning, and his return time was unpredictable, often late at night. But no matter when he came home, I always prepared a cup of honey water and waited for him. “Why are you waiting for me?” he asked one day. That time, Alexander didn’t take the cup. He stood in front of me, looking down from above. My cheeks flushed, and my breathing became unsteady. “Because I like you.” “Why?” “…I don’t know.” Alexander tilted his head, and his deep black eyes sparkled slightly. His voice was hesitant. “I didn’t drink tonight. Go back to your room. Don’t stay up late.” At first, I didn’t understand if this was a rejection or an acceptance. I looked up and asked quietly, “What about you?” Alexander raised an eyebrow, looked at me meaningfully, and flashed a mischievous smile. “Of course, I’ll go back to my own room.” I suddenly woke up and stammered in my explanation, “No! I meant you… you’re staying up late as well…” “I’ll make an effort to come back earlier in the days to come.” His tone was nonchalant, yet it still managed to stir ripples within my heart. Not long after that, Alexander moved away. He gave me the address of his new place – Alexander’s Flat in London, along with a spare key. Whenever I had no painting orders, I would head over to his place to tidy up the house, do the laundry, and cook for him. Charlotte got wind of it and was exasperated. “I’ve never seen anyone like you, so eager to be a free maid! What on earth do you like about Alexander? Is it because he’s good – looking?” I’d never contemplated this question before. I simply felt that every single moment I spent with Alexander was filled with joy. His responses to my messages evolved from “Yeah” to “Okay”, and the way he addressed me shifted from “You” to “Scarlett”. When he returned from a business trip, he’d bring me little presents. On weekends when he wasn’t occupied, he’d take me out for a meal. And from time to time, he’d remind me to take my stomach medicine… Whenever I thought about how Alexander was gradually changing for me, my heart would brim with happiness, making me believe that all the efforts were worthwhile. Finally, on Valentine’s Day, Alexander came to me carrying a bouquet of roses. The moonlight shone into his eyes, making it difficult to decipher his original emotions. “Scarlett, be my girlfriend.” “Okay.” Later, I discovered that on that very day, Isabella had announced her engagement in a high – profile manner. She’s Alexander’s first love, and they used to have a great relationship. But later, Alexander’s father’s company nearly went bankrupt, and Isabella also proposed to break up, seamlessly getting together with a rich second – generation heir. Then, when Alexander was at his lowest ebb, he met me. He once said that I was his winter stove, warm and cozy. But a woman’s intuition is a strange thing. I couldn’t help but wonder if Alexander’s acceptance of me had something to do with Isabella. Once this thought emerged, it grew stronger and stronger, refusing to go away… I plucked up the courage and asked casually, looking him in the eye. I looked up, choosing my words carefully before asking, “Why did you suddenly accept me?” His eyes were dark and inscrutable. “Because I like you.” “The past is in the past. Scarlett, you are my present and my future.” I engraved these words deep in my mind. 3 As soon as I entered the house, my phone rang. “Did you get home?” “Yeah.” “Why didn’t you tell me your stomach hurt?” “Would you have cared if I had?” There was a momentary silence on the other end of the phone. I could hear Alexander’s deep and slightly ragged breathing. “Scarlett, Isabella slit her wrists and attempted suicide. Fortunately, she was found in time. Although she’s out of danger, she’s still very weak.” So what? Just because I’m stronger than her, should I be her maid and give up my boyfriend? However, there was an even more crucial question. “Who found her in time?” Alexander was silent for a moment, then he gave an answer that didn’t really address the issue: “Her parents passed away and she was cheated on. Her mental state has become abnormal. After all, we’ve known each other for so many years. I just can’t help but worry about her.” My heart suddenly lurched, and my nose stung. Sure enough, only those who cry get the comfort. “Alexander, your girlfriend went home alone in the middle of the night. Aren’t you worried about her?” “Are you worried about her or still in love with her?” There was silence on the other end. I tried my best to steady my emotions, but my voice still quivered slightly. “I’m not the clingy type. If you—” “Wait for me to come home.” Alexander interrupted me and hung up the phone straight away. It would take him about half an hour to drive back. I curled up on the couch in the dark, with no lights on. All I could hear in the darkness was the ticking of the clock hands. Half an hour… One hour… Two hours passed… Before I knew it, I sat there until dawn. Alexander returned at six in the morning. “Why are you up so early?” He looked tired. He casually tossed his coat aside, leaned back on the couch, closed his eyes to rest, with no intention of explaining at all. Suddenly, Alexander opened his eyes and looked at me with a hint of surprise. “You didn’t sleep all night, did you?” I remained silent.

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