Category: English

I couldn’t sleep, so I opened my nightstand drawer, looking for a couple of melatonin gummies. The sleeping aids weren’t there. Instead, tucked in the corner, was a box of condoms. And out of the twelve-pack, only one was left. “Hey, babe, you’re back early. Why didn’t you tell me?” My husband lay on the bed, forcing a smile. I easily caught the flash of panic in his eyes. I stared at his lower body—the legs that couldn’t move—and fell into a deep silence. Ethan had been paralyzed from the waist down in a car accident two years ago. He was completely impotent. So… who used the rest of the box? 【1】 I’m a young female long-haul truck driver. Ever since we got married, I’ve spent every single day on the road, grinding to support our household. It was payday again, and the drivers were gathering for a celebratory dinner. In the world of long-haul trucking, female drivers are rare. Naturally, there are always a few sleazy bastards trying to use alcohol as an excuse to feel me up. Seeing our logistics manager, Mr. Davis, sliding another glass of whiskey toward me with a suggestive squint, Valerie, an older female driver, kindly stepped in to block him. “Let me drink that for Chloe, Mr. Davis. She’s got a long-haul run tonight.” A woman being the sole breadwinner is still a rare sight in traditional families. Valerie had asked me more than once why a young, pretty girl like me was doing such backbreaking work. With a bitter smile, I pulled out my phone and looked at the lock screen—a photo of Ethan and me. I knew exactly how brutal this job was. The flipped sleep schedules, the terrible diet, the countless nights sleeping in a freezing truck cab. The only thing keeping me going was my husband, the man who loved and supported me unconditionally. Ethan’s parents had passed away, and now he was paralyzed in bed. If I didn’t work myself to the bone, who would pay his astronomical medical bills? “Chloe, you should make time to go home more often,” Valerie said after downing the shot, her tone heavy with warning as she patted my shoulder. “Men have wild minds these days. When their wives are away, there’s no telling what kind of fun they’re having!” I just smiled and shook my head, silently rejecting Valerie’s skepticism. If it were any other man, I’d have my doubts too. But Ethan? It was impossible for him to cheat on me. He was paralyzed. He couldn’t even stand up. How could he possibly be fooling around? Valerie snorted, calling me young and naive. After her ex-husband cheated, they divorced, leaving her to raise three kids alone. That was why she drove semis, and why she had zero faith in men or romance. “He’s paralyzed, Chloe, not dead down there. You’re really that comfortable?” Speak of the devil, my phone buzzed with a FaceTime call. It was Ethan. The other female drivers teased me, laughing about how we were still in the honeymoon phase. Ethan did call me constantly to report on his day-to-day life. The other women always envied me for having such a clingy, loving husband. “Hey, why the sudden video call?” “I missed you, babe. Just wanted to see your beautiful face. Show me my wife!” Ethan’s voice sounded warm, but he was panting heavily, gasping for air as if he were in the middle of a workout. When the video connected, I saw Ethan drenched in sweat, his face flushed red. “It’s so hot today. Why didn’t you have Lily turn on the AC?” “Lily is helping me do my physical therapy,” Ethan panted, pointing the camera down slightly. “Air-cycling. Want to see?” Oh. The doctor had mentioned before that moving his legs passively was good for his circulation. Watching Ethan’s body shaking from the exertion on screen, my heart ached for him. He was working so hard to stand up again… If he hadn’t jumped to protect me, he wouldn’t be in that wheelchair. “No, it’s okay. Get some rest after your workout. I have to get back to loading the truck.” “Alright, baby. Love you. Kisses!” Seeing his face press up against the camera to blow me a kiss, I laughed. The exhaustion of driving for twenty-four hours straight melted away. 【2】 Thinking about his physical therapy brought back a wave of guilt. I couldn’t help but recall the horrible accident during our college years. We were crossing the street hand-in-hand when a speeding car suddenly hurtled toward us. Without a second thought, Ethan shoved me out of the way. He couldn’t dodge in time and was thrown violently onto the pavement. After losing the use of his legs, Ethan had cried in his hospital bed, refusing to see me. “Chloe, you’re so young and beautiful. I’m a broken man now. I can’t ruin the rest of your life.” He had always been so selfless. I was the one who should have been in that bed. He was enduring agonizing pain, yet his only thought was for my future… I had broken down, sobbing as I wrapped my arms around him. My lover had lost his legs to save my life. How could I ever be cruel enough to abandon him? From that day on, I became Ethan’s shadow, taking care of his every need. Once he was discharged, I ignored my parents’ fierce objections, pushed his wheelchair into city hall, and signed our marriage certificate. To care for him, I took a two-year leave of absence from college. Without my parents’ financial support, the weight of rent, utilities, and Ethan’s medical bills crashed down on me. I was a student who hadn’t even graduated yet. With no connections and no experience, I searched desperately until I found this high-paying long-haul trucking job. Driving across the country meant my life was confined to a truck cab. Since I could no longer take care of Ethan full-time, I hired a middle-aged caretaker who seemed incredibly reliable. Her name was Lily. She was in her late thirties, married with two kids, and seemed like an honest, hardworking woman. With everything arranged at home, I threw myself into my work. Driving day and night under extreme pressure, I could make up to eight thousand dollars a month on good runs, though bad months only brought in about two thousand. I carried the living expenses of two people plus Lily’s salary on my back. I couldn’t afford to slack off for even a second. When things got slow, Valerie and the other drivers would invite me out for dinners, but I always declined. Ethan’s quality of life was my top priority. He had already lost his legs. Being trapped at home all day was lonely enough; I couldn’t let him suffer financially too. As for me, I was young. I could survive on anything. For two years, I lived on cheap white bread and instant ramen. When I landed a massive delivery order, I’d treat myself to a jar of cheap hot sauce, scraping the corners of the glass clean, and then recycling the jar for a few cents to buy more bread. After months of this diet, my stomach was ruined. I became severely malnourished and prone to dizzy spells. I had passed out in the driver’s dorms several times, my mind playing weird, feverish tricks on me. Like today, while driving past a local shopping mall, my stomach cramped so badly that I pulled over to buy some ginger tea from the supermarket. Near the checkout aisle, I saw a man who looked exactly like Ethan, laughing and flirting with his arm wrapped around a middle-aged woman. I figured Valerie’s warnings were getting to me. My brain was literally hallucinating Ethan cheating on me, and the hallucination was terrifyingly vivid… Even though I knew it was fake, watching those perfectly functional legs walk away made tears stream down my face. If only it were real. More than anyone, I wanted him to stand up again. 【3】 Watching the couple disappear around the corner, a sharp pain shot through my head. I closed my eyes and shook my head. When I opened them, the pain was gone, and so were the two people. Day and night of nonstop driving had pushed my body to its absolute limit. My mental state was clearly deteriorating. If I kept driving like this, I was going to crash and kill someone. I decided to take a few days off, get a medical checkup, and rest at home. The moment I stepped through the front door of our apartment, a strong, sweet scent of cheap perfume hit my nose. Lily, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, was dressed in an unusually vibrant outfit, her face glowing. Seeing me home, her eyes widened in shock before she quickly recovered her warm smile. Since I was rarely home due to my trucking schedule, her surprise made sense. “Chloe! You’re back! You should’ve texted me. I would’ve cooked a nice lunch to welcome you home.” She reached out to help me with my bag. That was when I noticed the dark red marks scattered across her neck. Sensing my gaze, she blushed and quickly covered her neck with her hand. “Oh… my husband’s been acting like a teenager lately. So embarrassing.” “That’s sweet…” I smiled, exchanged a few polite words with Lily, and walked into the bedroom to see Ethan, who was fast asleep. Sometimes, I really envied the intimacy of normal couples. If Ethan’s legs were fine, we would be just as happy. Ethan woke up looking as drained as usual, with deep dark circles under his eyes. He probably hadn’t slept well. Ever since the accident, he had suffered from night terrors, often calling me in the middle of the night, gasping and crying about the crash. On the other end of the line, sitting in my truck cab eating cold bread, I would sob along with him, swearing to work harder to give him a better life. “Babe, I want to get the latest model of this electric wheelchair. It’s about two thousand dollars,” Ethan murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, his voice tender and sweet. “This old one is so hard to maneuver. Yesterday, Lily was pushing me, and we tumbled right down the porch steps. Look at these bruises.” He unbuttoned his shirt. Sure enough, his chest was covered in red, angry marks. “Babe, they’re on my back too…” Seeing my hesitation, he turned over with a pout to show me. Two thousand dollars… It sounded so simple to him, but it meant weeks of sleepless nights on the highway… “I’ll make it happen,” I promised, lying down next to him as a dull ache throbbed in my temples. I pulled open the nightstand drawer, searching for some melatonin. Long-haul driving had ruined my circadian rhythm. I was always drowsy during the day and wide awake at night. Melatonin and caffeine pills were my daily survival kit. “Huh? Where is it…” I rumbled through the drawer. I didn’t find the melatonin, but my hand brushed against a small box. It was a condom box. And only one was left. Ethan’s eyes flared with panic, but he forced a smile and pulled me closer. “Babe, what are you looking for? Oh, look at that, a stray condom. Why is that in here?” The fog in my brain instantly cleared. I stared at his completely limp lower half, my mind freezing over. I bought this box on Amazon less than twenty days ago to get free shipping. My husband had been paralyzed for two years. He was completely impotent. So, who used the other eleven condoms?

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When my boyfriend got into a horrific car accident, I abandoned him and ran away. Years later, he spent a fortune and went through hellish schemes just to force me to marry him. To our friends, we were a match made in heaven. He always told me I was the love of his life, his eternal light. But later, while I was asleep in our bed, he would bring another woman into our house and make love to her in the next room. I became the biggest laughingstock in our social circle. Yet, I stayed by his side, acting as if nothing had happened. My sheer indifference eventually drove him insane. “Did you ever love me, Jasmine? Even for a second?” What he didn’t know was that I was dying. Under his endless emotional torture, my life had officially entered its final countdown. “A blooming jasmine, pure and untainted.” That was how Ethan used to describe me. But now, he used those exact words for someone else. Chloe Miller. She was the new intern at his company. She was pretty, innocent-looking, and most importantly, she looked exactly like me. At the office, they were boss and employee. Outside the office, they were tangled up in bed. They had been together for a year. But Ethan had been my husband for two. My friends kept warning me about Chloe. They told me to watch my back before this little homewrecker kicked me out of my own marriage. The first time I saw Chloe was in my own bedroom. That afternoon, I had just been diagnosed with Idiopathic Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension at the hospital. The doctor told me I only had two years left to live. I went to bed early that night, only to wake up to my husband bringing her into our suite. The sound of their heavy breathing and the rhythm of their bodies made me feel physically sick. When Ethan went to the bathroom to wash up, Chloe, convinced I was awake, leaned down to my ear with a smug, triumphant smile. “So, you’re Ethan’s wife? You’re literally just skin and bones. Are you dying or something? Touching you must feel like touching a skeleton.” “Everyone says I look like you. But honestly? I think you’re inferior to me in every single way. You’re not as pretty, and you’re definitely not as young.” She was right. I was incredibly thin. I used to be a healthy 110 pounds at 5’6″. Now, I was barely 88 pounds. My ribs stuck out prominently, looking almost skeletal. The cold moonlight fell over my body. I felt nothing but a hollow, tragic emptiness. I remembered going to Ethan’s office a few days ago. Chloe had stood in front of me with that same victorious posture. One of her coworkers had tried to warn her out of kindness. “Chloe, you should keep a low profile. I’ve seen pictures of Jasmine from a few years ago. She was gorgeous. Honestly, way prettier than you.” “Yeah, you and Ethan aren’t even official yet. Don’t push your luck. Don’t let your pride ruin things.” “I heard she was Ethan’s first love. He used to worship the ground she walked on. Be careful, or you’ll end up getting shipped off to some remote branch overseas.”

Chloe wasn’t intimidated by those warnings at all. Instead, a flash of jealousy burned in her eyes. Clicking her high heels, she walked right up to me, forcing a fake smile onto her face. “Oh, Jasmine. Why are you waiting out here? Ethan’s been in his office for so long and hasn’t called you in. Does he not love you anymore? Whenever I want to see him, he practically flies to me. I thought he was like that with every woman, but I guess you’re the exception. No wonder he told me I’m his favorite.” I stared at her face. Her fair skin, her long black hair, her expressions, and her body shape—she really did look like a younger version of me. Ethan had brought many women home before, but Chloe was the most frequent. He clearly favored her. Maybe his hatred for me made him use the most brutal methods to punish me. But his methods were truly sadistic. I heard he didn’t just sleep with Chloe; they were practically in a passionate relationship. They went out for romantic dinners, went shopping, and traveled together. He could have just paid for a hooker, but instead, Ethan chose to give Chloe his “love.” Sometimes, I honestly couldn’t tell if he actually liked her, or if he just liked sleeping with her to spite me. I looked up, meeting her gaze, and let a small smile slip onto my lips. “If he loves you so much, why hasn’t he divorced me to marry you? If you’re really that capable, go convince him to leave me. Let’s see if he’ll actually marry a side chick who can’t even be shown in public.” As I said this, I gripped my teacup so hard my knuckles turned white. Chloe glared at me, looking exactly like a humiliated clown. “So what if I’m the side chick? He sleeps with me every single night, and you can only watch and keep your mouth shut! If you weren’t a few years younger than me, the title of Mrs. Vance would already be mine!” Her coworkers quickly dragged her away, throwing worried glances at me, terrified that I would blow up. But I wouldn’t. To me, Ethan was already a ghost in my life. He couldn’t trigger any of my emotions anymore. I wouldn’t waste my energy getting angry over his disgusting behavior. I wouldn’t even get jealous. Because he was a complete piece of trash.

As the coworkers were dragging Chloe away, she tripped over her own heels. She fell, apparently spraining her ankle, and immediately burst into tears. Hearing the commotion, Ethan aborted his meeting instantly. He ran out of the conference room, leaving a room full of executives behind, and rushed straight to Chloe’s side. Everyone in the office crowded around to watch the drama unfold. Ethan knelt beside her, his face dark with fury. He roared at the crowd: “Who did this to her?!” Classic protective billionaire behavior. The surrounding employees immediately lowered their heads, their faces turning pale. I stepped forward and stood right in front of him. “I did. She has a big mouth, so I taught her a lesson.” Chloe cried even harder, her innocent eyes wide with tears as she looked at Ethan. “Did I say anything wrong? Is it a crime to love a married man? Why does she get to call me a homewrecker? Everyone knows you love me, Ethan! And I love you too! As long as we love each other, nobody can tear us apart. Not even her!” What a bold statement. Love knows no order, sure, but this was the first time I had seen someone paint homewrecking as something so noble. Before I could even speak, Ethan let out a soft laugh. He gently stroked her hair and wiped her tears with a tissue. “You’re so cute, baby.” The contrast between being loved and being ignored was glaringly obvious at this moment. But I didn’t want to waste any more words on him. “It’s our second anniversary today. I want you to give me the downtown penthouse.” The penthouse was where I currently lived, the place they frequently used to disrespect me. I knew if I asked for cash, he would just call me materialistic. So I wanted the property. I could sell it and use the money for my medical treatments. In Ethan’s eyes, I was already a materialistic gold-digger who only cared about money. He had accepted that when we got married, claiming that as long as I stayed with him, he would give me whatever I wanted. So, I wasn’t going to be polite. But this time, he hesitated. He looked at me with a smirk, pinching my chin tightly. “Still as materialistic as ever, Jasmine. I can give you the penthouse. But first, apologize to my baby.” He glanced at Chloe, his twenty-two-year-old “baby.” How the tables had turned. He used to call me that, too. He loved using money to crush my dignity. He loved showing off how much he adored his new toy. I did my best to control my expression, ignoring the physical pain in my chest, and smiled back at him. “An apology? That will cost you extra.” He looked at me with pure disgust, releasing my chin and pushing me back slightly. “Your appetite is getting bigger and bigger.” “If we can’t reach a deal, then forget it.” I didn’t want anything that had to be begged for. Whether it was love, or money. I was actually quite curious. If Ethan found out one day that this was my life-saving money, would he regret his decision today? He of all people knew how terrified I was of pain, and how much I hated bitter medicine.

They say you have to go through the worst pain to appreciate life. I had tasted enough bitterness, yet here I was, left with nothing but a broken, failing body. When I got home, I didn’t even want to turn on the lights. A person like me belonged in the dark. I sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the city lights outside. Once upon a time, I had a light of my own. Suddenly, a warm, metallic taste rushed up my throat. Blood erupted from my mouth and nose, instantly staining my clothes and splattering onto the floor. If I couldn’t see it, it didn’t happen. If there was no visible wound, it wouldn’t hurt. Staring up at the white ceiling, the blank space slowly transformed into a projector screen of my memories. It was the peak of my relationship with Ethan. That year, I was twenty, and he was twenty-two. He was incredibly wealthy, yet he fell head over heels for a completely ordinary girl like me. On Christmas Eve, heavy snow was falling. We walked down the street like any other deeply in love couple, letting the snow cover our heads. We joked that we were growing old together. I had secretly wished back then that the person I grew old with would be him, must be him, could only be him. He had suddenly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his warm coat. “Jasmine, it’s almost Christmas. What do you want?” “I want a table full of delicious food. Made by you.” I didn’t actually expect him to cook. It was just my deep-seated insecurity acting up. I always felt so ordinary, so unworthy of him. I constantly looked for proof that he didn’t love me just so I could prepare myself for the inevitable heartbreak. He didn’t say anything at the time. I knew cooking was hard for him. He was used to a pampered lifestyle. With a house full of maids and private chefs, he didn’t even know where the grocery store was. Sure enough, on Christmas Day, he vanished. I couldn’t reach him anywhere. Just as I was moping in my dorm room, my roommate yelled that Ethan was waiting downstairs. Though I was a bit annoyed, I went down. A stretched Lincoln limousine was waiting at the curb. “Miss Jasmine, Mr. Vance requested that I escort you to a special location.” Confused, I got in. When I arrived at the destination, I was shocked to see him standing at the entrance. He looked like a prince waiting for his princess. “Merry Christmas, Miss Jasmine. Please, follow me.” He led me to a beautifully set table. A feast of nine dishes and one soup caught my eye. As he proudly introduced each dish, I noticed his hands were covered in tiny, painful-looking blisters. My heart ached with guilt. I had no idea he would take my random, selfish request so seriously. I felt so incredibly foolish. Even though my heart was breaking for him, I scolded him to hide my tears. “Ethan! Why did you do this to yourself without my permission? Nobody is allowed to hurt you, not even yourself!” I knew how deep and fierce his love was. But I felt I didn’t deserve it. He had just laughed, kissing my forehead gently. “Baby, this is how I show my love. How could it be hurtful?” He told me he had spent days watching cooking tutorials and practicing every night. I always knew he was brilliant, but I didn’t expect him to learn so fast. To show my appreciation, I cleaned out every single plate. It had been so long since I had a home-cooked meal. I could still taste it to this day. Maybe the memory was too beautiful, because I found myself smiling in my sleep. Through the haze of my dream, I heard someone calling my name. “Jasmine.” It was Ethan’s voice. I smiled, whispering back, “Ethan… I miss you. I miss your cooking.”

At 4:00 AM, I woke up. I reached out to the other side of the bed. It was cold. When I walked out of the bedroom, I saw Ethan standing in the kitchen. The last time I saw him in this house, he and Chloe were making out in my walk-in closet. Ever since he started dating Chloe, he barely came back here. He lived with her. They ate together, slept together. Their romance was the envy of everyone. He took off his apron, looked at me, and frowned. His eyes held a flicker of genuine concern. “Why are your clothes so baggy? Have you lost weight?” His tone was so gentle. He looked so much like the man I used to love. He looked as if he still cared. Setting the apron down, he walked over and cupped my cheek. I had indeed lost weight. My face had lost all its roundness. I slapped his hand away with all the strength I could muster. “Don’t touch me, Ethan!” He lowered his gaze, a flash of disappointment crossing his eyes. When he stepped aside, I finally saw the table. It was covered in a fresh, delicious feast. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. I couldn’t believe that a single whisper in my sleep had actually made him cook for me again. What was he trying to do? I didn’t understand. And I didn’t want to. I was just dragging out my final days anyway. I didn’t need love, I didn’t need his food, and I certainly didn’t need Ethan Vance. With a violent sweep of my arm, I pushed all the dishes off the table. The clean dining room was instantly turned into a chaotic, messy disaster. Hearing the crash, Ethan stared at the mess in disbelief. Slowly, he approached me, pinning me against the wall. His face was contorted with rage, his eyes burning with fury. “Jasmine! What the hell is wrong with you?!” “I was just joking in my sleep, and you actually took it seriously? Don’t you find yourself pathetic? You cook just because I ask you to? You might not be tired of this game, but I’m sick of your dirty hands!” He stared at me as if I had been possessed. I spat out the cruelest words I could think of. His eyes grew colder by the second. Suddenly, he scooped me up and threw me onto the sofa. A dark desire flared in his eyes, his breathing turning ragged. I struggled wildly, but I couldn’t break free from his grip. “Ethan, you bastard! Let me go!” He bit my lip hard, making me gasp in pain. “Is it really that hard to say you love me?! All these years, I’ve just been waiting for you to apologize to me! Why won’t you just give in? You said you wanted my cooking tonight, and I made it without a second thought. Why do you have to humiliate me?!” “Do you enjoy playing with my feelings?!” His sharp accusations made it impossible for me to look him in the eye, fearing he would see the tears pooling in them. We stared at each other in a suffocating silence until he began to unbutton my shirt. He unbuttoned, and I quickly buttoned it back up. He refused to back down, and neither did I. His movements were fluid, far too familiar with my body. Suddenly, his phone rang. It was Chloe on Snapchat. Without hesitation, he answered it and put it on speaker. Chloe was crying hysterically. “Ethan… why did you leave me? Is Jasmine really worth it? You said I was your favorite! I drank way too much at the bar… my head is spinning and I feel like throwing up. Can you please come pick me up? There are so many guys staring at me, I’m so scared… please come get me…” Ethan didn’t answer her. Instead, he stared at me, covering the microphone with his hand. “Jasmine, kiss me.” Seeing that I remained silent, he pleaded, “Say you love me. Say you’re sorry. If you say it, I’ll never leave you again.” Though he kept his voice low, I could hear it trembling. He was begging me. I knew. But this was exactly how I used to be. I used to beg him for love just as desperately. “Ethan, please don’t leave me, okay?” “Ethan, can we go back to how we were?” “Ethan, let’s stop fighting, please…” Back then, he had only left me a cold text message: “Jasmine, stop being so pathetic.” So, loving someone was considered pathetic. Loving someone meant dragging your dignity through the dirt. I didn’t understand his love, and I certainly didn’t want it anymore. The scars of his cruel words were permanently engraved on my heart. They would never heal. I didn’t want to forgive him. I wanted him to feel exactly what I felt. Leaning close to his ear, I whispered with a cold smile: “Ethan, stop being so pathetic.” He froze, then let out a bitter laugh. He uncovered the phone. “Baby, hang tight. I’m coming to get you.” In the end, he didn’t even look back at me as he slammed the door shut.

I couldn’t sleep that night because of the excruciating pain, coughing up blood periodically. The penthouse was terrifyingly quiet. The next morning, the sun was bright, and I wanted to go out for a walk. But as soon as I stepped outside, I noticed people staring at their phones, whispering. Curious, I opened my phone and let out a self-deprecating laugh. It turned out my dear husband had gotten into a massive street fight last night to protect Chloe. As the son of New York’s biggest jewelry tycoon, his reputation was massive. Within hours, it had become the biggest entertainment scandal in the city. The moment I reached the gates of our gated community, a swarm of paparazzi and live-streamers rushed at me. “Mrs. Vance, have you seen the news? Did you know your husband is cheating on you?” “Mrs. Vance, are you going to divorce him?” “Mrs. Vance, the intern is younger and prettier than you. Are you jealous?” Every question felt like a poisoned needle piercing my skin. Still, I forced a tight smile and stopped walking. “You should be interviewing the man who cheated, and the woman who chose to be a homewrecker. Not me.” A female reporter who looked about Chloe’s age refused to let me go. “Is that so? I heard that years ago, when Ethan got into that horrible car accident, you abandoned him for money. You only crawled back crying for a second chance after you saw he recovered perfectly. What kind of dirty tricks did you use to get him back?” “Honestly, Ethan and Chloe look like a perfect match. Are you refusing to divorce him just because you couldn’t agree on the alimony? You call her a homewrecker, but everyone knows that in a relationship, the one who isn’t loved is the real intruder.” “Don’t you think they’re true love, and you’re the actual homewrecker here?” She spoke with perfect articulation. She was clearly sent by someone. I stared at her, noticing the custom college tote bag on her shoulder. “You’re defending Chloe so passionately. Are you classmates? You look like an intern reporter, but your professional skills are honestly embarrassing. Making up stories without doing proper research… aren’t you worried about losing your job?” “Ethan went through hell and back just to marry me. I guess you’ve never been loved like that, which is why you’re projecting your jealousy onto me. Or did Chloe send you here today specifically to disgust me?” Her eyes flickered with panic. She subconsciously tried to hide her bag, but she kept arguing. “So what if I know Chloe? I’m just stating facts! You claim Ethan forced you to marry him, so if you hate it so much, why don’t you divorce him and let them be together? Or are you just holding out for a massive payout? Since we’re all here, if you’re too embarrassed to say the number, we can pass the message to him for you!” She smiled triumphantly, and the other reporters chimed in. The retort died in my throat, replaced by a sudden surge of warm, metallic fluid. I tried to cover my mouth, but there was too much of it. The white snow on the pavement was instantly stained a violent red. The reporters gasped in shock. One of them quickly recovered and sneered: “Wow, that fake blood looks incredibly realistic. Where’d you buy it? My friend works in movie props, I should ask for the brand.” “Just a second ago she was acting like she was forced to marry him, and now she’s coughing up fake blood. Pathetic actress.” I let out a weak, bitter laugh. “I wish this blood were fake, too. Sorry to disappoint you all… but I’m actually dying.” Their expressions froze. They looked at each other in silence, the mock smiles instantly vanishing from their faces. Until the intern reporter spoke up again: “Stop acting so fake! You can’t win the argument so you’re playing the cancer card? How shameless!” “No wonder we can’t beat you older women. Your manipulation tactics are truly on another level!” Her behavior perfectly proved the saying: birds of a feather flock together. The truly shameless ones were them—highly educated but completely devoid of basic humanity.

The sky turned dark with heavy clouds. Within an hour, my interview was trending everywhere on Instagram. Knowing my days were numbered, I didn’t care about the internet gossip. I just wanted to spend my remaining days in peace. But Ethan went into complete damage control mode. He edited his Instagram statement three times. “Jasmine and I will not be divorcing. I apologize for taking up public resources. Please stop harassing my wife and leave her alone.” Strangely, Chloe’s reporter friend was fired immediately and blacklisted from the entire media industry. Even though he cleared the air, some toxic netizens still kept attacking me. “That woman is so dramatic. She married him but acts like she’s a victim. I bet she screams his name in bed.” “Ugh, look at her skeletal body. Who would even want that? If I knew Ethan was that easy to get, I would’ve shot my shot.” “Ethan is defending her so hard, it proves he’s obsessed with her. I admit, I’m jealous.” “She’s clearly faking innocence. She abandoned him when he was crippled in a car crash, then crawled back when he got better. She’s got some serious tricks up her sleeve.” Suddenly, one comment caught my eye:

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I used to be a food delivery driver in a sleepy Texas border town. No matter how hard I worked, my fiancée, Chloe, called off our engagement because I couldn’t afford the fifty-thousand-dollar wedding and the house down payment her family demanded. That was when Victoria, a mysterious woman who ran an overnight courier service, came to me. She told me a man needed to have some pride, and asked if I wanted to make some real money with her. So, I followed her to her warehouse. Every night at midnight, I would drive a beat-up, modified cargo van to a remote, private estate on a hill we called Copper Ridge. My beautiful boss set three strict rules for me: First, never open the cargo doors. Second, pretend to be deaf no matter what kind of noise you hear. Third, do not say a single word to anyone at Copper Ridge, unless they ask, “Is the cargo here?” Then, and only then, you answer, “Yes.” I once asked her what would happen if I broke the rules. Victoria just gave me a cold look. “We’re all adults here, Ethan. You get paid to do a job. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” Until one stormy night, due to an unexpected breakdown, I broke the second rule…

“Yeah, I get it. I’m turning back now.” I sat in the driver’s seat of the cargo van, put down my phone, and slowed down to turn back toward Copper Ridge. Victoria had just called. She said they hadn’t finished unloading the cargo, so I had to make another trip back. It was pouring outside. The heavy rain hammered against the metal roof of the van, making a deafening racket. Under normal circumstances, the sound of rain would be quite soothing. But the mountain road was treacherous. Especially the path up Copper Ridge. Even though it was paved, the shifting soil underneath meant the asphalt was constantly cracked and riddled with deep potholes. The second half of the road was even worse—just one incredibly steep, hairpin turn after another. I didn’t dare go over twenty-five miles per hour. The old van wasn’t sealed well. Besides the heavy rain, a fierce wind was howling outside. Even though it was mid-summer, it was freezing inside the cabin. “Help… help me…” Suddenly, I heard a woman’s voice—coming from the cargo hold right behind me! In an instant, whether from the chill or sheer terror, goosebumps exploded all over my arms. The van had been heavily modified. A thick, solid steel partition separated the driver’s cabin from the cargo area. I had never once been in the back. Every time I arrived at the luxury estate at Copper Ridge, I would get out, smoke a cigarette, and wait for their people to unload the goods. Then, I would just drive away. “Why the hell is there a woman’s voice in the back in the middle of the night…?” Was it a ghost? As an experienced driver, especially with a manual clutch like this old van, I could tell by the drag on the engine whether the vehicle was carrying a heavy load. Remembering my boss’s rules, I forced down the rising panic in my chest and kept driving. The eerie voice kept pleading. She sounded incredibly weak. She kept repeating the same words, sending chills down my spine. It was starting to make me anxious. Distracted, I didn’t see the massive puddle ahead. The front tire slammed into a deep ditch. The engine sputtered and died. “Damn it!” I slammed my hand against the steering wheel in frustration. I turned the key, trying to restart the engine. It cranked slowly, making a dying *whir-whir-whir* sound, but refused to catch. “Help…” With the engine dead, the wind and rain seemed to quiet down, making the cry for help even clearer. It was definitely coming from the cargo hold. There was a real person inside! I threw on my raincoat, grabbed the heavy wrench from the passenger seat, and cautiously walked to the back of the van. I tapped the metal door with the wrench. The cries for help stopped instantly. “Who the hell is…” Mid-sentence, my boss’s second rule flashed in my mind: *Pretend to be deaf no matter what kind of noise you hear.* A horrifying realization hit me—was I smuggling something highly illegal? Or worse? I quickly clasped my hands together, mumbling whatever prayers I could remember from Sunday school, and turned to get back into the cab. “Help me! I’m not a ghost!” The rain was letting up, and the wind had died down. The woman’s voice was much clearer now. She definitely didn’t sound like a ghost. I had never heard of a ghost speaking with a local Texas accent. But thinking of Victoria’s warnings, I hesitated. *Buzz! Buzz!* My phone started ringing loudly. “Aren’t you there yet? You’re taking too long. Did something happen?” Victoria’s cold voice came through the speaker. “Yeah, the rain is crazy. The van stalled out.” “Victoria, seriously, can you get a better vehicle next time? This piece of junk should have been scrapped years ago. It breaks down every other day!” I didn’t say a word about driving into the puddle. Instead, I blamed the vehicle. Rule number one of being an underpaid worker: never blame yourself. Bosses don’t actually care about you anyway. You have to deflect the blame immediately. “I see. Wait for roadside assistance. And remember the three rules I gave you.” “Otherwise, you might not live to see tomorrow.” She emphasized the last sentence heavily before hanging up. Her tone made me seriously wonder: was I really transporting something dangerous? The pay was incredibly high. When I was delivering food, I worked from six in the morning until midnight just to make about three thousand dollars a month. But with this job, I only had to make one trip at midnight, and I got paid five thousand dollars a week. Victoria even let me stay at her place. When she found out I liked gaming, she even put a high-end gaming PC in my room. Free room and board, great pay, and video games. It seemed like the perfect job. The only catch was that Victoria didn’t wear much when she was at home. She walked around in very revealing clothes. It made me hot under the collar every single time. But since she always spoke to me with such a cold, professional detachment, I forced myself to ignore any wild fantasies. As I sat in the driver’s seat playing on my phone, waiting for help, the cargo hold rattled again. This time, the movement was violent. The entire van rocked slightly. I heard the screech of rusted metal rubbing together. But I forced myself to stay still. *Boom!* A flash of lightning illuminated the dark forest. In that split second, a pale, ghostly woman’s face appeared right outside my driver-side window. “Holy shit! A ghost!!!” I screamed, terrified out of my mind. I instinctively scrambled over to the passenger side. My stomach knotted in pain. The sheer terror had triggered my chronic ulcers. Trembling and clutching my stomach, I pointed the wrench at the window. “Are you a person or a ghost?!” The forest plunged back into pitch blackness. When the next bolt of lightning cracked across the sky, the face was gone. I swallowed hard, slowly turning my head to look at the passenger-side window. It was too dark to see anything outside. I unlocked my phone and turned on the flashlight, pointing it at the glass. The terrifyingly pale face was right there, staring back at me. Her dark, hollow eyes were filled with absolute despair and resentment. My brain short-circuited, and everything went black. … I didn’t know how much time had passed when I finally woke up. A violent jolting motion dragged my consciousness back to reality. Dazed and confused, I heard voices nearby. “He was completely passed out when we found him.” “He’s always been smart, kept his mouth shut. He’s lasted the longest out of all the drivers. Are you sure we have to do this?” “…Yeah, copy that, boss.” I tried to sit up, but my body wouldn’t move. Looking down, I realized I was tightly bound with thick ropes. “Marcus? Marcus, what the hell? Why am I tied up?” The man I called Marcus was the guy who received the cargo. Every night after midnight when I reached the Copper Ridge estate, Marcus would toss me an imported cigarette, tell me to take a break, and unload the van by himself. By the time I finished my smoke, he was usually done. We didn’t talk much, but we were friendly. A cigarette is the quickest way to break the ice between guys. Even though we were both just working a job, Marcus drove a much nicer car than my beat-up van. He drove a brand-new Mercedes SUV. “You screwed up, Ethan. The boss wants you punished. Cooperate, and you might still keep your job.” Marcus’s voice was dead cold. “I get it if I made a mistake, but is tying me up really necessary?” “I’m just a guy trying to earn a living. This is a bit degrading, don’t you think?” “Degrading?” Marcus looked back at me and laughed, a dark, unsettling sound. We drove in silence after that. Soon, Marcus pulled up to the estate. I usually drove in through the back gate, but this time, he took me through the front. I had no idea how luxurious the place actually was. Having barely finished high school, the only word I could think of to describe it was “palatial.” But the gold-trimmed hallway walls were lined with framed, explicit photographs of various young women. Laughter and cries echoed from the rooms lining the hallway. I could hear the distinct, sickening sound of a whip cracking against bare flesh. Marcus led the way, pulling me along like a dog on a leash. I felt incredibly humiliated. Along the way, we passed a few women who threw cold, indifferent glances at me. I squirmed under their stares. I was a man, and I had my pride! “Marcus, this is too much. I’m a human being, not an animal!” “Too much?” Marcus said flatly, “You’re lucky to still be breathing. Don’t start crying about human rights now.” He gave the rope a violent tug. I stumbled, and he shoved me hard into a room at the end of the hall. The room was dimly lit and largely empty. There was only a leather sofa and a marble coffee table. A man with a short, slicked-back ponytail sat on the sofa. The tea on the table in front of him was still steaming. I recognized him. He was the big boss Marcus had mentioned. He had a massive black dragon tattoo wrapping down his arm. A jagged, terrifying scar ran from his temple down to his jawline, giving him a permanently menacing look. Scarface—Leo—glanced at me with total indifference. He picked up a cigar cutter and began prepping a cigar. “Did you find the cargo?” he asked. Marcus shook his head. “She probably ran. I already sent the boys down the mountain road to track her.” “The terrain out here is brutal. She can’t outrun a car on foot.” Leo lit his cigar, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled a thick cloud of blue smoke. The smoke swirled around him, obscuring his face. Then, he reached behind his back, pulled out a wicked, razor-sharp hunting knife, and tossed it onto the coffee table. “You know the rules,” he said quietly, taking another drag. I watched in horror as Marcus’s brow furrowed for a split second. Then, grinding his teeth, he stepped forward and picked up the knife. Before I could even process what was happening, he brought the blade down and sliced off his own pinky finger. “Holy shit…” A wave of absolute terror washed over me. Marcus didn’t even flinch. Was I really trapped in some twisted cartel den? Based on their conversation, the “ghost” I saw last night wasn’t a ghost at all. She was a captive who had tried to escape. What about me? Were they going to cut my finger off too? Marcus, incredibly, didn’t make a sound. He bandaged his bleeding hand with a rag and asked Leo, “What do we do with him?” He was pointing at me. “Throw him in the back. Feed him to the dogs,” Leo said, his tone as casual as if he were ordering a pizza. “Whoa, hold on, man! I’m just the delivery guy! This is insane! You can’t do this, it’s illegal!” Leo looked at me, a cruel smirk playing on his scarred face. “Illegal? Kid, we aren’t in the States anymore.” Not in the U.S.?! My heart plunged into a frozen abyss. Suddenly, it all clicked. My boss’s warehouse was right on the Texas border. No wonder I had to drive at midnight on those dark, unmarked dirt roads. I had been unconsciously crossing the border into Mexico every single night! Leo gave a slight nod. Marcus understood immediately. He grabbed me, covered my mouth, and dragged me out of the room. His fresh blood smeared all over my face. For the first time in my life, I was dragged like a dog in front of a crowd. Despite the terror, a burning rage began to swell inside me. Marcus felt me resisting and, without warning, slammed his fist into my face. Stars exploded in my vision, and my head throbbed. A moment later, I was thrown into a filthy, concrete pen. Then, he locked the gate and left, likely to tend to his severed finger. A single, grime-covered bulb hung from the ceiling, casting a dim, yellow glow. Even though it looked like an animal pen, I could smell a mixture of cheap women’s perfume and rotting copper. I looked into the shadows of the pen and gasped. I wasn’t alone. Three women were huddling in the corner, their torn clothes barely covering them. They stared at me with wide, terrified eyes. One was covered in horrific whip lashes. Another was nearly naked, her belly slightly swollen—she was pregnant. The last one had a brutal “X” carved into her right cheek. “Are you guys…” After a few quiet words, my heart grew even heavier. They were the “cargo” I had been delivering all this time. The woman with the scarred face seemed mentally unstable, and the whipped woman couldn’t speak—her tongue had been cut out. Only the pregnant girl, Lily, was able to tell me what had happened to them. Lily asked how I ended up here. I made up a quick lie. I didn’t dare tell them the truth. If they knew I was the driver who brought them to this hellhole, they would probably tear me apart. Before long, Marcus returned with a fresh bandage on his hand. He didn’t say a word. He dragged me out of the pen and began pulling me toward the dark woods behind the estate. In the distance, I could hear the low, menacing growls of large attack dogs. Marcus and Leo were monsters. I knew that if I didn’t act fast, I was going to end up as dog food. I swallowed my fear and looked at Marcus. “Marcus… look, I’m a dead man anyway. Can you grant me one last wish before I go?” Marcus paused, turning his cold eyes toward me. Seeing his hesitation, I pressed on. “You know I only took this job for the money because my fiancée left me. I told you about it.” “I’ve never… you know, been with a woman. Can I at least experience it once before I die?” “There are three girls right there in the pen…” “Don’t think I’m a freak, Marcus. But if I die a virgin, I’ll haunt this place forever!” I was betting he would say yes. Lily had whispered to me earlier that Marcus was a sick bastard who enjoyed watching people suffer and degrade themselves. Marcus stared at me for a long moment, then let out a sick chuckle. “Well… I guess that’s a fair request. For old times’ sake, I’ll let you have some fun.” Relief washed over me. He dragged me back and threw me into the pen for the second time. “Make it quick. I want to see a good show,” he said, leaning against the bars with a sadistic grin. “What are you waiting for? Get to it!” Seeing me hesitate, Marcus’s grin faded. “You trying to stall for time, kid?” “It won’t work. No one can save you from Leo.” When I still didn’t move, Marcus lost patience. He stepped inside the pen, grabbed Lily by her hair, and dragged her over to me. “Do it! You’re about to die anyway, what are you hesitating for?” “Marcus, man, you’ve got to untie my hands first. How am I supposed to do anything like this?” Marcus blinked, then burst into a loud laugh. “Right! Of course!” He knelt down and began to untie me. But he only untied my legs, keeping my hands bound in front of me. As Marcus bent over, I locked eyes with Lily and gave her a desperate nod. Lily gritted her teeth and slammed her entire body weight into Marcus.

He was caught off guard and tumbled to the ground. Lily was vicious—she immediately sank her teeth into Marcus’s freshly bandaged, injured hand. I didn’t waste a second, raising my legs and stomping violently on his back. The whipped woman joined the fray, quickly tearing at the ropes around my wrists. Once my hands were free, I pinned Marcus to the dirt and began raining heavy punches down on his face. The girl with the “X” scar on her cheek, triggered by the chaos, crawled over and bit hard into his thigh. This was the plan Lily and I had hastily whispered about. To survive, we had to fight dirty. But I hadn’t expected the other two women to join in so fiercely. With our combined forces, we quickly subdued Marcus. “If he hadn’t been injured already, we never would have pulled this off!” I gasped, using my own ropes to tie him up tightly. “What do we do now?” Lily asked, trembling. I pointed toward the back of the estate. “There are cars parked out there. We take one and run.” Leo was right about one thing—the mountain road was brutal. If we tried to run on foot, they would catch us in minutes. Our only shot was to steal a car. Fortunately, most of Leo’s men were out searching the mountain. I quickly found an SUV with the keys left in the ignition. I waved the three women inside, jumped into the driver’s seat, and slammed the car into reverse to turn around. Suddenly, a blinding light cut through the darkness. Before I could react, another vehicle rammed into us at full speed. *Crash!* The violent impact flipped our SUV onto its side. Because we were rushing, none of us had buckled our seatbelts. My head slammed hard against the window, and darkness claimed me once again. *** When I woke up the next day, I was back in the filthy concrete pen. Marcus was sitting on the low concrete wall, staring down at me with pure hatred. He had fresh gauze wrapped around his head, his hand was heavily bandaged, and he was holding a black stun baton. “Look who’s awake,” he sneered. Without another word, he stepped down and began beating me with the heavy baton. I tried to shield myself, but the cold metal rods bruised my ribs and back. I wanted to fight back, but I knew that if I did, he would kill me on the spot. Thankfully, my abusive, alcoholic father had given me a high tolerance for beatings when I was a kid. Otherwise, I would have broken. I swore to myself right then: if I ever got the chance, I would kill this bastard. “Hey, stop hitting him. We need to deal with this one first.” Leo appeared, flanked by a few of his henchmen. Two of them were carrying a semi-conscious woman between them. My eyes widened. It was the pale-faced woman from the storm—the undercover who had scared me in my van! Leo patted Marcus’s cheek with a cold smile. “We have some big-paying clients coming tonight. Victoria has prepped a new batch of cargo.” “You’re driving tonight, Marcus.” Then, Leo turned his gaze to me and the other women in the pen. “As for these… it’d be a waste to feed them to the dogs. Let’s sell them off to the buyers.” … The courtyard fell quiet after they left. Marcus had gone down the mountain to meet Victoria at the warehouse. According to Leo, we were going to be sold tonight. The “ghost” woman was tossed into the pen with us. It was almost funny. In my twenty-odd years of life, I had never been in a small room with four women. The only girlfriend I ever had left me because I was broke. Now, I was surrounded by four beautiful women, and we were all about to die. About ten minutes later, the new woman groaned and woke up. I crawled over to her. “Are you the one who scared the shit out of me last night?” She rolled her eyes and mouthed a single word: *Idiot.* I bristled, instantly losing interest in talking to her. But after a moment, she leaned in and whispered, “My name is Audrey. I’m an undercover cop.” A cop? A female cop? “Then why the hell did you try to scare me last night?” I whispered back. Audrey sighed. “When they were unloading, I slipped into the back of your van while Marcus was distracted. I thought you were one of them. When I realized you thought I was a ghost, I tried to play along to keep you quiet. How was I supposed to know you’d faint and the engine would die?” That explained everything. After I fainted, she had to run on foot. But the mountain was pitch black and surrounded by dense jungle. Afraid of getting lost, she had to stick to the road, which made her an easy target for Leo’s patrol. “If we can hold out until this afternoon, backup will be here,” Audrey whispered. “But I need all of you to cooperate with me.” Hearing that we had a chance to live, my eyes lit up. “What do we do?” Lily asked. Audrey looked at her. “We play dead. Here’s what we’re going to do…” … A few minutes later, Lily and I started screaming at each other. She called me a piece of trash, getting angrier by the second, until she flew at me like a feral beast, sinking her teeth into my shoulder. “Whoa, easy! Are you for real?” I hissed. Her teeth dug deep into my collarbone, making me wince in pain. I shoved her off, raising my fist. But looking at her slightly swollen belly, I hesitated. “Do it!” Lily hissed under her breath. “It’s a cartel bastard’s kid anyway, I don’t care! Hit me!” I gritted my teeth and threw a punch. But at the last second, I couldn’t bring myself to hit her stomach. My fist landed on her collarbone instead. “You coward!” Lily yelled, throwing herself on top of me and punching me square in the eye. My vision went black for a second, and a dull throb bloomed across my right eye. The commotion brought one of the guards running over. “Hey! What the hell is going on in there?” Lily sat on chest, pointing at me. “This animal tried to touch me!” The guard sneered. “Do you think I’m stupid? You’re acting. I don’t see any blood.” “Stop wasting your breath. You’re all getting shipped out in an hour anyway.” My heart hammered against my ribs. Audrey had warned us that once they moved us, we’d be as good as dead. Lily gritted her teeth, grabbed my arm, and bit down with everything she had.

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The day after we got legally married at the courthouse, I was waiting at the airport for my new husband, Ethan, holding two plane tickets. He finally showed up, but his childhood best friend, Serena, was trailing right behind him. “Babe, Serena just went through a really bad breakup. I brought her along so she could clear her head,” Ethan explained, his voice tentative and cautious. Serena was wearing the exact same beach dress as me. She flashed me an apologetic, sweet smile. “Chloe, sweetie, I hope I’m not intruding. I just wanted to bask in your newlywed happiness.” I looked down at the third ticket in Ethan’s hand, which was sandwiched right next to mine. Seat 16B. My seat was 16A, and Ethan’s was 16C. He had deliberately placed Serena right between us. Standing there, a sudden surge of pure fury rushed from the soles of my feet straight to my head. I dragged Ethan to the side, keeping my voice low and dangerous. “Send her home, or I’m leaving.” Ethan looked utterly put out, sighing helplessly. “Babe, can you please not be so unreasonable?” “Serena told me she’s terrified of being alone right now. She just wanted some company and a little distraction.” “Besides, we’ve known each other since we were kids. It’s just a vacation. It’s no big deal…” I cut him off. “If you don’t make her leave, we’re getting a divorce.”

Ethan reached out to grab my hand, but I stepped aside, dodging him. “Can you stop throwing a tantrum over such a tiny thing?” His tone softened, turning into a coaxing, placating murmur. I said nothing, only staring at him with cold, dead eyes. Unable to hold my gaze, he let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll tell her. I’ll ask her to leave.” He raised both hands in a mock surrender. “Happy wife, happy life. Is that what you want?” With that, he turned around and walked over to Serena, whispering something to her. Serena’s shoulders slumped instantly. She looked up, her eyes turning red in a split second. “Ethan… does Chloe hate me?” “Did I do something wrong? I’m just so heartbroken, and I wanted to be around some happy energy.” As she spoke, she threw a pitiful, aggrieved glance in my direction, then turned back to Ethan, clutching his arm tightly. “Ethan, I know Chloe is misunderstanding us.” “But you already explained it to her. Does she still not trust you?” That face again. Those exact, manipulative, innocent words. My brain buzzed with anger. Two months ago, Serena showed up at our brand-new apartment dragging two massive suitcases. She had made that exact same face. That day, Ethan held me close while looking at her with pure pity. “Babe, Serena just got dumped, and her landlord kicked her out. She’s all alone in this city, and it’s so heartbreaking.” “Let’s just let her stay with us for a bit. As soon as she finds a job and a place, she’ll move out.” And what happened? Once she moved in, she never mentioned leaving again. Then, two weeks before we got married, at our pre-wedding party. In front of everyone, she looked at Ethan with teary eyes. “I’m so jealous of Chloe. She gets to marry such an amazing guy.” “My ex didn’t treat me even half as well as you do.” Our friends started hyping them up, telling her to take a sip from Ethan’s drink. Ethan hesitated. But Serena immediately wrapped her arm around his. “Come on, Ethan. Consider it an early toast to your marriage.” He half-resisted but ended up drinking it anyway. Later, when we took group photos, she literally shoved me out of the way, pressing her face almost flat against Ethan’s cheek. That night, I had the biggest fight of our relationship with him. “Ethan, do you even know what boundaries are?” “Babe, you’re overthinking. We were just messing around. We’ve always been like this since childhood.” I was shaking with rage. We didn’t speak for a whole week. I had already packed my bags, fully prepared to end the relationship. The night before we went to the courthouse, he held me tight, crying and apologizing. “Babe, I was wrong. I promise I’ll keep my distance from her from now on.” “I swear, this was the absolute last time.” Looking at his bloodshot eyes, I believed him. But now, standing in the airport lobby, his promise felt like a sickening joke. The look in his eyes as he stared at Serena was pure, aching concern. And that concern wasn’t for me. He walked back to me, his face written with exhaustion. “Babe, look at how hard Serena is crying. How about…” I didn’t let him finish. I spun on my heel and walked toward the exit. “Then I’m leaving. Enjoy your honeymoon.”

Panicking, Ethan ran after me and grabbed my arm, canceling Serena’s ticket right then and there. He held up his phone, showing me the cancellation confirmation while begging for forgiveness. Serena stood not far away, watching us with tear-rimmed eyes. I stared at Ethan, warning him coldly that this was his absolute last chance. With that, I shook off his grip and marched straight through airport security. Once on the plane, I put on my sleep mask, wanting to block everything out. Before long, I heard the faint, rapid tapping of a phone keyboard beside me. I pulled off my mask and glanced over. He was typing furiously in a Snapchat chat window with a contact named “Little Raindrop.” [Don’t cry. It’s all my fault.] A cold chill washed over my entire body. Sensing my gaze, he hurriedly tried to hide his phone. “Who are you texting?” I asked coldly. “Nobody, just a client.” He didn’t dare look me in the eye. I let out a harsh laugh. “A client named ‘Little Raindrop’?” His face went entirely pale. “Babe, don’t misunderstand. I’m just worried she might do something stupid to herself.” “And if she does, are you going to die with her?” My voice was loud enough that the people in the row ahead of us turned around to look. “Keep your voice down,” he muttered, his face tightening with embarrassment and growing impatience. “We finally made it to our honeymoon. Can you please stop bringing her up?” “Am I the one bringing her up, or are you the one who can’t let her go?” I retorted. He frowned deeply. “We’re just friends. We grew up together. Why can’t you just trust me?” “Can you just be a little more understanding?” There it was again. That phrase. I closed my eyes, refusing to waste another single word on him. When the plane landed, the hotel shuttle was already waiting. He tried to hold my hand, but I snatched it away. The car door slid open. I was about to step inside when I froze solid. Serena was sitting inside the car, beaming at me. Next to her sat Ethan’s two childhood buddies, Zach and Tyler. “Chloe! What a coincidence!” I whipped my head around, glaring death at Ethan. His expression was incredibly guilty. Serena hopped out of the car, immediately locking her arm through Ethan’s, and stuck her tongue out at me triumphantly. “Chloe, Ethan actually texted me privately to come. He said the more, the merrier, and that you’d definitely love it.” “You’re so petty, but Ethan still cares about me.” “Serena, shut up,” Ethan stammered, completely flustered. Inside the car, his friend Zach chimed in loudly. “Ethan, why are you acting? You’re the one who Venmoed us the money for the plane tickets!” Looking at Ethan’s pale, frozen face, I suddenly smiled. The little drama at the airport… what a flawless performance. Once we got to the hotel room, he followed me inside, still spinning his pathetic lies. “They insisted on tagging along! Zach borrowed the money from me. I had no idea Serena was coming too!” I watched him perform in silence. “Are you done?” He blinked, startled. “If you’re done, get the hell out.” I pointed straight at the door. Using every ounce of my strength, I shoved him out of the room. I slammed the door and locked it. I slid down against the door, burying my face in my hands as the tears finally spilled over. Outside, I could hear Serena and the guys telling him to let it go, mixed with Ethan’s non-stop knocking. I ignored all of it. Two hours later. I changed my clothes, planning to head out for some fresh air. The moment I opened the door… I saw Ethan standing right outside. And Serena, wearing a skimpy bikini that barely covered anything, was rubbing herself against him. “Ethan, let’s go for a night swim! Just like we used to do back in college.” She shot a provocative glance at me, her eyes filled with challenge. Ethan looked torn, his eyes darting around. “But Chloe…” “Chloe is so open-minded, she definitely won’t mind. Right, Chloe?” she chirped innocently. I walked right up to them, staring Ethan down. “Are you going?” “Babe, I just want to help her unwind a bit,” he stammered, still trying to justify it. “If you take one single step out of this room, we are completely over.” Ethan immediately shoved Serena away and blurted out, “I’m not going.” Serena stumbled back from the force of the shove. She stared at him in utter disbelief, her eyes welling up with tears instantly. Giving me a deeply aggrieved look, she turned and ran off.

Ethan let out a sigh of relief. “Babe, see? I made her leave. Can you stop being mad now?” There wasn’t a shred of actual remorse in his voice. I didn’t even have the energy to fight him. I brushed past his hand and went back into the room. I climbed into bed and pulled the duvet over my head. He thought I had fallen asleep. After some time, the buzzing of a phone woke me up. It was Ethan’s phone, sitting right on the nightstand. The screen lit up with a notification from “Little Raindrop.” [Ethan, did your wife make things difficult for you again?] I picked up his phone. There was no passcode. Wow, he really trusted me, didn’t he? I opened Snapchat and scrolled up. The screen was filled with messages between him and Serena from while I was supposedly asleep. Serena: [I’m so sorry, Ethan. I caused another fight between you and Chloe.] Ethan: [Don’t overthink it. That’s just how she is. She’s dramatic, petty, and narrow-minded. Just ignore her.] Dramatic, petty, and narrow-minded. So that was what I was to him. Serena: [It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have insisted on coming.] Ethan: [It’s not your fault. I’m the one who wanted you here.] Ethan: [You’re still the best. Not like some people who only know how to ruin the mood.] It felt like an icy hand was squeezing my heart, making it impossible to breathe. They even started reminiscing about their college trips together. [Those were the days. Just the two of us.] It turned out I was the third wheel all along. With a cold face, I grabbed my own phone. I took clear photos of every single line of their chat history. Then, I placed his phone back exactly where it was. A short while later, Ethan walked back into the room. He forced a smile. “Babe, you’re awake?” I flinched away from his hand. That hand had probably just been stroking Serena’s hair moments ago. I asked, “Where are you going?” “Zach and the guys invited me to the hotel bar. They said they wanted to apologize to me.” His eyes darted away guiltily. I locked my gaze onto his. “Ethan, we are on our honeymoon.” He glared back at me, losing his patience. “Honeymoon, honeymoon! Can you give me a break?” “What’s wrong with hanging out with friends? Do we have to be glued to each other’s faces 24/7?” With that, he slammed the door and stormed out. I waited two minutes, then quietly followed him. At the hotel’s outdoor lounge bar, I spotted them immediately. They were playing Truth or Dare. The bottle spun and pointed directly at Serena. Zach cheered, telling her to pick Dare. “I dare you to unbuckle Ethan’s belt!” Serena giggled coyly. “You guys are so bad!” Yet, she was already kneeling right in front of Ethan. Ethan casually wrapped his hand around her waist. Amidst the cheers of the crowd, she reached out, parted his unbuttoned shirt, and let her fingers slide provocatively across his abs. Then, her hand slid lower, unbuckling his belt. Ethan stared down at her the entire time, a self-satisfied, indulgent smirk on his face. I waited until she was completely finished before walking straight over to their booth and sitting down. The smirk on Ethan’s face froze. He instinctively let go of Serena, scrambling to put some distance between them. He clearly hadn’t expected me to follow him. The atmosphere turned painfully awkward for a few seconds before Zach laughed it off. “Hey, Chloe’s here! Come join the game!” I didn’t say a word. I just picked up a glass of alcohol in front of me. Someone nervously spun the bottle again to keep the game going, asking Serena: “Who’s your favorite person here?” She shot a shy, longing glance at Ethan. “My favorite is definitely Ethan.” With that, she buried her face right into Ethan’s chest. Ethan looked at her with pure adoration, reaching out to gently ruffle her hair. The table erupted in cheers and catcalls. Then someone else asked, “And who do you dislike the most?” Serena put on an innocent face, her voice dripping with mock sadness as her eyes locked directly onto me. “Oh, I don’t dislike anyone! I’m just a little scared of people who are miserable and want to make everyone else miserable too.” The people at the table laughed along. Just then, the bottle spun and landed on Ethan. “Ethan! Dare! Kiss Serena!” Serena protested weakly, “But his wife is watching…” Yet she pressed her body even closer to Ethan, tilting her face up, her eyes full of anticipation. Everyone’s eyes locked onto him. Ethan picked up his glass and took a sip. He didn’t move. His buddy Zach stepped in to smooth things over. “Okay, let’s change it. Truth instead.” He stared at Ethan, drawing out his words. “Ethan, if you weren’t married, would you have married Serena?”

Ethan’s throat bobbed. He quickly downed a massive gulp of his drink. “Zach, you’re drunk. What kind of BS question is that?” He tried to brush it off. But the chanting around the table only grew louder. Ethan’s expression grew more and more strained. He didn’t look at me. Not once. “Alright, guys, stop it,” he muttered. Serena, however, wasn’t letting it go. She giggled and wrapped her arm tightly around Ethan’s. “Don’t be mad, Ethan. Zach’s just curious.” She turned her gaze to me. “Chloe, don’t blame them, okay? We’ve known Ethan since we were kids. We joke around like this all the time.” “Unlike you. I bet you’ve never even stepped foot in a cool bar like this before, right?” As soon as she said that, the entire booth burst into laughter. Ethan said absolutely nothing. He just picked up his glass and took another drink. Tyler stood up, swaying slightly with a full pint of beer in his hand. “Hey, Chloe, let me buy you a drink. Don’t be mad, alright?” As he spoke, his foot “slipped.” The entire glass of ice-cold beer poured directly over my head. My white dress was instantly soaked through, clinging to my skin. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Chloe! It was a total accident!” He apologized with his mouth, but his eyes were gleaming with cruel amusement. Ethan frowned slightly. “Tyler, what the hell?” His tone was completely flat, lacking any actual reprimand. My stomach churned with disgust. I couldn’t stand looking at them for another second. “Have fun. I’m going back.” I spun around to leave. As I passed Serena, a foot slyly shot out. I tripped and pitched forward, my knees slamming hard against the wooden deck. The pain was so sharp that my vision went black for a second. “Oh my gosh, Chloe!” Serena shrieked dramatically. Ethan frowned. “Why can’t you watch where you’re going?” He bent down, attempting to help me up. “Don’t touch me.” I slapped his hand away, pushing myself up off the ground. Zach, the loyal lapdog, jumped in to smooth things over again. “Since Chloe had a little fall, let’s play a game to make it up to her!” The empty bottle spun rapidly on the table. Finally, it stopped, pointing directly at me. Serena clapped her hands in delight. “Chloe! How about you crawl around the table on all fours like a little dog and bark twice? We’ll call it even, okay?” Everyone at the table stared at me like they were watching a circus act. I looked at Ethan. His eyes darted away. His face was filled with anxiety—not for me, but because he was terrified I would make a scene and embarrass him. “Babe,” he coaxed gently. “It’s just a game. Don’t take it so seriously.” “Just do it so we can move on.” They wanted me to crawl on the floor like an animal to entertain this trash? I picked up a full glass of wine from the table and downed it. “I don’t crawl.” Serena’s smile faded. She pouted, tugging at Ethan’s arm. “Ethan, look at her. She’s such a buzzkill.” Then, her eyes flicked toward the small stage in the center of the bar. “Well, how about Chloe goes up on stage and dances for us instead? That counts too.” “With a body like yours, Chloe, I bet it’ll be a real show.” On stage, several scantily clad women were dancing provocatively. I heard her whisper to Zach in a voice she clearly intended for me to hear. “Look at her acting all high and mighty with that resting bitch face.” “Today, I’m going to make sure she knows exactly who belongs by Ethan’s side.” Zach chuckled. “Good one. Let’s see her act classy now.” So that was the plan. I slowly turned my head and looked at Ethan. He was whispering something back to Serena, a soft, indulgent smile on his face. He didn’t even notice me looking. To him, I was probably just some uptight, annoying chore. I reached down, picked up a glass overflowing with red wine, and started walking toward the stage. Thinking I had surrendered, Serena let out a triumphant smirk. “Glad you came to your senses, Chloe! Go ahead, we’re all waiting!”

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On the day of freshman registration at Columbia University, Julian dragged me to the campus gates. He slapped his official enrollment envelope into my hands. “You’ve been ignoring me the whole summer. I’m giving you a way out of the doghouse now. Go sign me in!” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “What kind of delusional dream are you living in, Julian? You got into a local community college. How do you have the nerve to show up at Columbia?” Julian froze. Under the mocking stares of the surrounding students, he ripped open the dusty envelope. He broke down on the spot. “Why?! Why didn’t you log in and change it back for me?!” I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t you tell me to mind my own business?” When I first found out that Julian’s college acceptance had been declined and swapped for a low-tier community college, my heart nearly stopped. I touched my legs, then my head. Whole. Unharmed. I almost cried right then and there. I had been reborn. I was back on the exact day Julian’s enrollment was messed with. In my past life, the class beauty, Serena Vance, had secretly logged into his portal and messed up his future. When I found out, I tried my best to stop her and called her out for being incredibly irresponsible. Serena felt humiliated. She ran out of the building crying, took a wrong step on the stairs, fell, and ended up paralyzed from the waist down. She couldn’t handle the tragedy and eventually took her own life. Julian blamed the entire thing on me, saying I was a meddling busybody. The day before we were supposed to head off to college, he lured me to the rooftop of our building and pushed me off. This time, I chose to play dumb. As I walked into the computer lab, Serena jumped, quickly shutting the laptop screen. She looked at me guiltily. “Elena, how long have you been standing there? What did you see?” “I saw you changing Julian’s portal options.” Hearing this, a cold sneer crossed her face. “Don’t even think about snitching! I’m going to the same college as him, no matter what.” “Whatever. None of my business.” Just then, Julian walked in. Seeing Serena and me together, his guard immediately went up. “Elena, aren’t you sick of this? Stop following me around like a lost puppy!” I bent down, packed my textbooks from my desk, and finally spoke. “Do you own this school? If you can be here, so can I.” He stunned. He didn’t expect this attitude from me. In the past, I would always speak softly to him, or follow him around trying to make peace. Whenever I saw him hanging out with Serena, I would desperately try to advise him to focus on his studies. But now? Why should I care? I zipped up my backpack and turned to leave. Serena quickly called out, “Wait!” “I just played around with Julian’s enrollment portal. Why don’t you take a look and give us some advice?” She proudly turned the screen around. Julian glanced at it, then smirked at me. “Yeah, speak up. Weren’t you always the smart one?” I shrugged. “I’m not really interested.” He grabbed my arm. “What do you mean? Didn’t you say we were going to Columbia together? How can you have zero reaction to this?” “I respect people’s personal choices. Do whatever you want.” I shook him off and walked away. Behind me, Julian kicked a desk in sheer frustration. I didn’t even look back. I hadn’t gone far when our group Snapchat blew up. “Group Chat:” “Maya:” “Julian, Serena just declined your Columbia offer on your portal and registered you for a community college! Are you seriously letting her ruin your life?” “Chloe:” “Your SAT scores were literally perfect for Columbia!” “Julian:” “What’s the big deal? Elena will log in and fix it for me before the deadline anyway.” “Maya:” “I just heard you guys arguing. Aren’t you afraid she’ll actually leave you to rot? You need to take your own life seriously!” “Julian:” “She’s basically my second mom. She would never actually let anything happen to me.” “Julian:” “We’re just having a little fight. Once I buy her some food, she’ll come crawling back.” I sneered and typed: “Do your own chores. I’m not your mother.” Julian must have been furious. The next second, I was kicked out of the group chat. This was his favorite little power play. Every time we argued, he would kick me out, wait for me to beg for forgiveness, and then drag me back in. This time, I didn’t give him the chance. I blocked him instantly, left all mutual chats, and only kept my close friends on Snapchat. High school was over. It was time to cut the dead weight. In this life, I would not interfere in anyone else’s destiny. I would only focus on myself. Julian, I really can’t wait to see your face when you get your final registration papers.

When I got home, I packed every single gift Julian had given me over the years into a trash bag and threw it right into the dumpster. Even with a decade of friendship, he was the one who pushed me off a building in my past life. No matter how nostalgic I felt, some things could never be forgiven. As I was throwing out the trash, I ran into Julian’s mom, Brenda. She waved at me from a distance. “Elena! Have you seen Julian? The boy isn’t picking up my FaceTimes or replying to my texts!” “No idea, Mrs. Thorne.” “Could you call one of his friends and ask for me?” I held up my empty hands. “Sorry, Mrs. Thorne, I didn’t bring my phone down.” “Maybe you can check with his other friends. See you around.” Without waiting for her to reply, I excused myself and walked away. In my past life, after I died, my parents were devastated. They found out Julian had been on the roof with me. But Brenda, fully knowing her son was responsible, destroyed the building’s security footage and even bribed a doctor to get Julian a fake psychiatric diagnosis to keep him out of prison. She used to be nice to me, but when it came to her precious son, everyone else was disposable. Since she was willing to commit perjury back then, I had no desire to interact with her now. Back in my room, I got a text from Maya: “Elena, let’s get food! A new K-BBQ spot just opened downtown! It’s so cheap!” I replied immediately: “I’m down! Ask Chloe too, let’s go!” When we arrived at the restaurant, Maya nudged me. “Look over there. Isn’t that Julian? I heard he’s been bragging to everyone that he’s going to Columbia.” “It’s hilarious. Serena is telling everyone she’s going with him. With her GPA, she couldn’t even get into a clown school, let alone an Ivy League,” Chloe scoffed, making a face that made us burst into laughter. Just then, Julian walked over. Seeing me, he scoffed. “Elena, you really are like a rash. You just won’t go away.” “I thought you said you didn’t care anymore. Why did you follow me here?” Maya and Chloe looked worried, but I kept my voice flat. “Do you own this restaurant? The owner is open for business. Are we not allowed to eat?” “Move. You’re blocking the line.” I pushed past him to check in our reservation. His face turned bright red with anger. Maya gave me a thumbs-up. “Hell yeah, Elena! Love the backbone!” “Yeah, I’m completely done with him.” Following close behind us, Julian gritted his teeth. “Fine, Elena. You better keep this same energy!” I ignored him. We sat down, and Julian and Serena took a table right across from us. It felt entirely intentional. They started feeding each other food, trying to make me jealous. It was honestly nauseating. I kept my eyes on the grill and focused on my brisket. Halfway through the meal, I went to the restroom. On my way back, a strong grip pulled me into a side hallway. It was Julian. I frowned, but he shoved his phone into my face. “Why did you block me on Snapchat?” “Because I felt like it. Julian, we are not friends anymore. You hate it when I meddle, and I don’t like chasing after you.” “Besides, you have a girlfriend now. We need to keep our distance.” “Add me back. How else are we going to coordinate when we move to Columbia?” He reached out to grab my phone, but I snatched it back. “Get this straight, Julian. High school is over. We have nothing to do with each other. Who I keep on my friend list is my choice.” Julian opened his mouth in shock. Before he could speak, I cut him off. “Also, have some manners when you talk to me next time. I don’t owe you anything. At least show some basic respect.” I rolled my eyes and walked away. Julian was fuming. Just as he was about to chase after me, Serena appeared.

To spite me, he suddenly grabbed Serena by the back of her head and kissed her deeply. I felt a brief pang in my chest, but it was quickly replaced by a wave of relief. I smiled faintly and walked right past them. Let people destroy their own lives. I was not going to play the fool anymore. After that day, Julian never contacted me again, and I certainly didn’t look for him. Even my mom noticed. “Elena, Julian hasn’t swung by the house in days. Did something happen?” “Mom, high school is over. Plus, he has a girlfriend now. He should be spending time with her.” My mom was shocked. “A girlfriend? But what about you two…” “We’re just neighbors, Mom.” My dad smiled from the kitchen. “She’s right. Just neighbors. Whether he comes over or not has nothing to do with us. Now that exams are over, let’s go on a trip!” I bounced on my feet. “Dad, I want to go to Disney World!” “You got it. I’ll take some PTO, and we’ll have a family vacation!” My mom happily agreed. We spent the night looking up travel guides, completely ignoring my vibrating phone. Once our itinerary was set, I checked my texts. Maya had sent me a screenshot. “Is Julian actually insane? He posted this on his private story and made sure I saw it.” I looked at the image. It was a screenshot of his finalized college enrollment page. It clearly showed the local community college. I laughed. He was trying to bait me into saving him. Too bad he was blocked. “Elena, what is this? Isn’t he going to Columbia?” “Serena changed his portal.” “Is he out of his mind?!” Maya was horrified. “He’s throwing away his entire future for a girl?” “Well, not my problem.” Maya thought he was a lunatic and blocked him too. The next day, my family packed our bags and flew to Orlando. I posted tons of photos on Instagram—Disney World, delicious dinners, and sunny beaches. Sure, Orlando was a total money vacuum, but I had the best time. That night at the hotel, my phone rang from an unknown number. I picked up, and Julian’s voice came through. “I heard you’re on vacation. Where are you going next?” “I’m going to visit the Columbia campus early. I want to get used to the area.” He let out a smug laugh. “Elena, stop being stubborn. Add me back on Snapchat. When you get back, I have a gift for you. What I promised you before… it still stands.” “Julian, everyone has to face the consequences of their own choices.” Before he could respond, Serena’s voice echoed in the background of the call: “Babe, can you bring me a towel?” He hastily hung up. I looked at the pending friend request on Snapchat and hit decline. It was 11:50 PM. Julian, you have exactly ten minutes left before the college portal locks forever. I hope you can take responsibility for your own life. I don’t owe you anything. Suddenly, Serena’s Snapchat request popped up. “Elena, accept my request.” I ignored it, but she kept spamming. “Julian and I are staying at a hotel tonight. No matter what history you two had, he’s mine now.” “He’s not going to Columbia with you. He’s staying with me for the rest of his life!” I chuckled and blocked her too. You two deserve each other. I have my own path to walk. The clock ticked down. 11:58… 11:59… At exactly midnight, the deadline passed. I took a deep breath and let it out. Julian, our lives will never cross again.

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On Easter Sunday, to amuse his adopted daughter Sofia, family heir Luca and his brother Marco dressed me up as a clown. Sofia ripped my gown to shreds and scrawled “TRAITOR” across my face with her lipstick. When I didn’t react, she kicked me into a barrel of pig slop. When they fished me out, the yard was ringed with family members holding up their phones, their jeers cutting like glass. Marco stood a hundred feet away, pinching his nose in disgust, refusing to come within ten feet of me. Sofia beamed. “Elena, happy Easter!” Luca stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body. “It was just a joke,” he said lightly. “Don’t take it so seriously.” He raised his hand and signaled his men. A high-pressure hose came on full blast. The water knocked me flat. I lay there shivering, my skin turning purple with cold. I didn’t beg. Not once. By morning, the video of me soaked and trembling had spread across the entire underworld. Marco blamed me for dragging Sofia’s name through the mud. He threw me out. Luca tore up our engagement contract in front of everyone. “The Costa family doesn’t marry women with stains on their name.” I nodded to each of them. No argument. No tears. They thought I was putting on a brave face. Pretending. They didn’t know the transaction had only three days left. These people? I couldn’t stand the sight of them. In the courtyard, Don Vittorio sat in his high-backed chair and gestured for his capo to step forward. “Shameless! Filthy!” The capo’s belt came down on me again and again. I didn’t explain. I just bit down and took it. Arguing would only make the beating worse. I had barely been back in this house a week when Sofia accused me of stealing her diamond brooch. Of being a mole. My parents searched my room. My brothers stripped me naked in front of the whole household. They found nothing. I thought I might finally get an apology. Instead, Marco knocked out one of my teeth with a single backhanded slap. “You sold it, didn’t you?” he spat. “Where’s the money?” My room was the size of a closet. I didn’t have a single bank card to my name. I tried to explain. He hit me harder, called me a liar who wouldn’t confess. I curled into a ball in the corner. He kicked me until I coughed up blood. Then Sofia gasped. “Found it.” The diamond brooch glittered in the sunlight. To me, it was blinding. I looked at Marco. Not a trace of guilt on his face. He just shrugged. “A little misunderstanding,” he said flatly. “Forget about it.” “I’m Sofia’s brother. Of course I trust her.” He knew he was Sofia’s brother. He forgot I was his real sister. Back in the courtyard, the capo’s belt kept swinging. My body was a mess of bloody welts. Marco stood right there and didn’t say a single word in my defense. He’d let Sofia humiliate me, photograph me naked—then he blamed me for ruining her reputation. He’d tossed my few belongings out the front gate and told me to get lost. I agreed to leave. But my father, Don Vittorio, roared, “You think you can just walk out? You haven’t shamed us enough?” He ordered the family punishment tools brought out. Two hours into the beating, my mother, Donna Caterina, finally raised a hand. “Enough,” she said. “Have her kiss the ring ninety-nine times and write a blood oath. We’ll call it settled.” Don Vittorio threw down his belt, irritated. “You spoil her.” Spoil. I almost laughed. “Kiss the ring,” in my mother’s language, meant pressing your forehead to the Don’s ring and kissing it. If it didn’t make a sound, it didn’t count. The blood oath had to be written in your own blood. Under ten thousand words, or not “sincere” enough, and you did it over. I didn’t speak. I bent down again and again, kissing that ring until I passed out. They threw cold water on me, and when I came to, I kept kissing. I wrote the blood oath all night. Every word scraping me deeper into the dirt. I thought that would be enough. Sofia pinched her nose and stepped back. “Marco, it’s not that I don’t want Elena in the house, but… she reeks.” My brother ruffled her hair fondly and shot me a look of disgust. “You’re not fit for the servants’ quarters. Go stay with Bruno.” Bruno was Sofia’s pit bull. And I was terrified of dogs. I remembered the day they first brought me back. Sofia had been just as disgusted, but back then Marco had only sent me to the warehouse—not the kennel. The cage in the warehouse was bigger than the servant’s room I’d gotten later. And without Sofia giving orders, the guards didn’t bite. I could at least sleep. The kennel—I couldn’t. I dropped to my knees in front of Don Vittorio and Donna Caterina, kissing the ring like my life depended on it. “Don Vittorio, Donna Caterina—if I stink, let me leave the family. Let me go back to the warehouse. Please, I’m begging you, don’t make me stay with the dog.” Don Vittorio’s face softened, just slightly. He was about to speak when Marco grabbed me by the collar. “Elena, stop playing the victim! You’re the reason this family is a laughingstock. You should be grateful you have anywhere to sleep at all.” He dragged me toward the kennel. I looked back at Don Vittorio. He turned away. The stench hit me before I even stepped inside. The dog’s fangs gleamed inches from my face. I closed my eyes. And then the system’s cold mechanical voice echoed in my skull. “Two days left until the host’s transaction is complete.”

I went still. I forced myself to breathe. Two more days. I couldn’t quit now. Three years ago, Sofia had complained of a stomachache after drinking. She’d glared at me with red-rimmed eyes and demanded to know why I’d poisoned her. Before I could get a word out, Marco had pried my mouth open and poured a whole bottle of liquor down my throat. The pain shut my body down. I collapsed in the bathroom. No one checked on me. The whole family took Sofia to a private hospital. As I lay dying, a mechanical voice rang out in my skull: “Host life value detected at zero. Revenge Contract forcibly bound.” “Current mission: Survive three years.” “Mission success: The suffering you endured will be returned tenfold to your enemies. You will also receive a cash reward of one hundred million US dollars.” “Mission failure: Annihilation of the soul.” Back then, I thought I was hallucinating. I didn’t know what a contract was. But when I woke up in that bathroom, my stomach no longer twisting in agony, I believed. The contract gave me a second chance. I was eighteen that year. I started keeping my head down. I learned to stay quiet. I learned to survive. I recalled everything I knew about surviving in this world. I suppressed my fear. I stayed perfectly still. The pit bull circled me, its warmth against my skin both wet and unnerving. Outside the cage, Sofia clung to Luca’s arm, all charm. “Luca, your fiancée smells so bad she’s been sent to the kennel. Does that break your heart?” Luca glanced at me with total indifference. “Don’t say that. I don’t have a fiancée. That engagement was torn up a long time ago.” Even now, my chest twisted. Luca had been different from the rest of them. He was my childhood friend from the streets. When he first showed up in my neighborhood, he had a broken leg and nobody to protect him. I stayed on that block to watch over him. He could barely move, so I stole food for him. I fought off anyone who came for him. One winter, some thugs tried to take his crutch for firewood. I threw myself in front of him. They hung me upside down from a lamppost. They packed snowballs hard as stones and used me for target practice. They broke my nose. Blood everywhere. Luca held my frozen body and cried all night. “Elena,” he whispered. “When I grow up, I’ll protect you.” I smiled through the haze and believed him. Later, when the Costa family brought me home, the first thing I did was help Luca find his real family. He turned out to be the abandoned bastard son of the Balzeri family—our enemies. They’d thrown him away on purpose. To get him back into his family, I proposed a marriage alliance between us. Marco called me cheap. “Back for five minutes and already chasing a man.” I knelt in the courtyard for seven days. No food. No water. My knees ground to blood and bone. At the end of it, I had a marriage contract. It wasn’t that the Costas were beneath me—it was that Don Vittorio and Donna Caterina wanted me to marry higher, to be a stepping stone for Sofia’s rise. The day we went to pick Luca up from the streets, his eyes were swollen and red. He held me so tight I could barely breathe. He swore to the heavens,”Elena, once I’m established in my family, I’ll marry you!” But he never did. He tore up our contract with his own hands. Then he handed me to Sofia like a toy. When did it change? Maybe when Sofia first called him “Luca.” She was prettier than me. Cleaner. Sweeter. She knew exactly how to make people love her. She looped her arm through his and said, “Luca, your engagement to Elena—that was forced, wasn’t it?” Luca didn’t deny it. Maybe it was at some negotiation when I took a drink for him—drank until I vomited blood, collapsed on the floor, couldn’t get up. Luca looked down at me and said, “Elena, you look pathetic.” I brought up marriage once. Rings. A wedding. He got annoyed. He plucked a weed from the roadside and twined it around my finger. Then he went to an auction, crushed every other bidder, and bought a pink diamond for Sofia. He designed the ring himself. I asked him once, “Luca, do you still remember what you said back in the streets?” He laughed—a laugh I’d never heard from him before. Full of mockery. “Elena, you bring up the streets every single day. Don’t you get tired of it?” “Yes, you helped me. But you’ve held that over my head for years. Isn’t that enough?” Held it over him? I’d broken my knees for him. Starved for him. Risked everything to buy him a future. He said, “Elena, stop pretending. You only wanted this marriage because you’re the least favorite daughter in your family.” “Nobody else would have you, so you latched onto me.” “You’re that desperate for a man?” Something inside me shattered. Sofia’s laugh pulled me back to the present. “Luca, don’t be so harsh. Elena was your fiancée for years.” Luca sneered. “Fiancée? A clingy beggar? She was never worthy of that word.” I took a deep breath and asked the system silently. “Does betrayal trigger the backlash too?”

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I made my mate Alpha, beside him as Luna. And in secret, I went back to being the witch no one knows about. Today, Tyson walks into my ritual room with a woman on his arm. “Make her look like my Luna.” The blade in my hand goes cold against my palm. Thank the Goddess for the hooded cloak and the spell masking my scent. He doesn’t recognize me. His own Luna. His fated mate. I keep my voice low, distorted by magic. “Do you understand what this spell does, Alpha Tyson?” “Luna’s bones will crack and reshape. Her face will tear apart from the inside. She’ll lose her scent — every wolf in your pack will walk past her like she’s nothing. She’ll go blind. It’s worse than death.” Tyson looks at me. His eyes are cold. Flat. Like I’m talking about a stranger. “I don’t care. Just do it.” He won’t give up my father’s warriors. But he can’t stand his mistress living in the shadows either. So his plan is to paste my face onto a rogue and let her play Luna? Fine. Seven years of loyalty. Gone. I don’t owe him a damn thing. The only version of me walking back to him will be a widow. And every wolf in Ashgrove will answer to me. “Deal,” I say, turning the blade between my fingers. “But we do this my way. Both women stay here during the process. No interruptions. No one comes in.” Tyson nods. “Alpha.” Nola presses into his chest, fingers curling around his sleeve, lips parted like she wants to say something but won’t. The coldness melts off his face. Just like that. He cups her jaw and murmurs: “Briar’s father commands the most warriors in the region. His wolves only answer to Voss blood. I can’t break ties with her openly.” “And your past… it can’t come to light. This is the safest way.” “Bear with it. After this, you’ll be my Luna. My everything.” Nola’s face lights up. Hope. Hunger. Then she squeezes out a pout of concern. “But what happens to Briar after? She’ll be… ruined. Where will she go?” I’m curious too. What exactly does he plan to do with the real me? Behind the hooded cloak, I watch him. But Tyson doesn’t answer. He turns at the door. “Don’t try anything. And don’t damage her before delivery — I need her untouched.” Then he pulls Nola out with him. I call after him. “Alpha Tyson. When you bring Luna tomorrow, not a scratch on her. No bruises, no cuts. Her skin and hair — untouched. Or the spell won’t hold.” He doesn’t turn around. “Tomorrow.” The chamber door shuts. I pull back the hood. Peel off the cloak. From the witch no one’s ever seen, I become Briar Voss again. Thank the Goddess I listened to my father. He told me never to reveal my witch bloodline to anyone — especially not my mate. He told me to keep my Gamma close and my secrets closer. I tap the edge of the ritual table twice. Fenn steps out of the shadows — my Gamma. She’s been with me since before the mating ceremony. Ironveil-born. Loyal only to me. “Find out everything about that rogue,” I tell her. “I want to know exactly how ‘unspeakable’ her past is.” “And tomorrow — you take my place here. Wear the cloak, use the voice-masking spell. Let him think you’re the witch. When he brings ‘his Luna,’ take her in. I’ll handle the rest.” Fenn nods once and disappears. I pull my cloak back on and slip out the hidden path toward the pack house. The night air hits my skin. Somewhere in the distance, wolves are howling on a pack run. Seven years ago, Tyson swore under this same moon that he’d never betray me. I believed him. Now I’m going to make sure the only Alpha this pack ever answers to again is my five-year-old son, Callum.

Back in the Alpha’s wing of the pack house, I set out a tray of moonberry cakes. I made them by hand. His favorite flavor. The wolfsbane variant I folded into the batter is something no healer in any pack would recognize — because I invented it. It won’t kill him. It won’t even make him sick. It’ll just make sure Callum is the last pup he ever sires. I’m arranging the tray when Tyson walks in. “Briar.” His voice is soft. Warm. “Still up? It’s late.” He’s carrying a cup. The steam curls up between us. “The healer made this for you. It’ll help with your sleep — you’ve been looking tired lately.” His eyes are gentle. That look on his face — tender, concerned, like I’m something precious. Same look he gave me seven years ago when he got on one knee at the borderlands under a full moon and swore he’d never let me down. I believed him then. I let him bring the cup to my lips. Wolfsbane. Diluted. I can taste it under the herbs — faint, but there. Enough to suppress my wolf, cut off my mindlink, make me too weak to shift or fight. He’s drugging me. To make tomorrow easier. I drink every drop. Then I smile up at him. “Tyson. You’re always so good to me.” Something flickers behind his eyes — guilt, maybe — and vanishes. I pick up the tray of cakes and hold it out, eyes bright. “You’ve been running this pack day and night since your father got too weak. You barely eat. I made these for you — new recipe. Try one?” He takes one. Bites. Chews. “These are good.” He takes another. Then a third. I watch him swallow and feel nothing. Seven years ago, the Blood Plague swept through the borderlands. Wolves were dropping dead by the dozens. Tyson was stationed there — and he caught it. I didn’t sleep for five days. I used every scrap of healer knowledge I had, every spell my mother’s bloodline gave me, and I brewed a cure no one thought was possible. Then I ran. Three days straight in wolf form, carrying the cure in my jaws, until I reached him. He was half-dead when I got there. Skin grey. Eyes empty. I brought him back. After that, his father — the old Alpha — finally looked at him. Finally saw a son worth naming heir. At our mating ceremony, the old Alpha stood before the whole pack and passed the title to Tyson. And Tyson — he held my face in his hands that night, eyes red, voice cracking. “Briar, being your mate is the greatest thing that ever happened to me.” “If it wasn’t for you, I’d have burned with the rest of them. You gave me the cure, you gave me the title, you gave me everything.” “I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure every she-wolf in this world envies you.” Now he doesn’t even remember I know medicine. He’s feeding me wolfsbane with a lover’s smile, planning to send me off to be destroyed tomorrow. “Tyson.” I set the cup down, empty. He looks at me. “These cakes,” I say. “You really like them?” “Love them.” He pops the last crumb into his mouth. I tuck myself against his chest, letting the wolfsbane drag my limbs heavy. He carries me to bed. He doesn’t know that after tonight, Callum will be the only pup he ever sires.

The wolfsbane hits hard. My whole body goes slack. My wolf — silent. The mindlink — dead. I can’t shift. Can’t even lift my arms. Tyson lays me on the bed and stands over me, back turned. “Briar. Don’t blame me for this.” “Your father’s warriors only answer to Voss blood. I can’t touch them, and I can’t afford to turn against you openly.” “Everyone whispers behind my back — that I’m only Alpha because of you. Because of your father’s wolves. Because you handed me the cure and I took the credit.” “So I brought Nola back. She’ll wear your face. Take your place. Your father will never know.” “But I won’t abandon you. Even without your face, even without your scent — I’ll keep you hidden. Take care of you. You’ll be safe.” He says “safe” with his back to me. Says it again, quieter. Like he’s convincing himself. I force out a laugh. Thin. Ragged. “Tyson. I’ve been your Luna for seven years. I built alliances for you wolf by wolf. My father gave you his warriors — and you want to take them from Voss blood?” “You’re putting a rogue in my place. The real goal isn’t just replacing me. It’s swallowing my family whole.” His fists clench. He doesn’t turn around. “A blood family whose warriors outnumber mine three to one. No Alpha can stomach that forever.” He walks out. Wolfsbane burns in my throat. Then — footsteps. Heels clicking on stone. Nola sweeps in wearing one of my dresses. “Oh, Briar.” She crouches beside the bed. “Your Gamma’s not here. Your warriors are posted outside the territory on patrol — Tyson sent them out this morning. No one’s coming for you.” “Originally he wanted you gone for good. I’m the one who convinced him to let you live.” “So you should thank me, really. Even as a ruined wolf, at least you’ll be breathing.” She leans closer, breath hot on my ear. “And once I have my own pups with him? Your little Callum is dead weight.” “How does that feel? Helpless yet?” Her pretty face twists into something ugly. I keep my eyes closed. I don’t waste my breath on her. But her idea about Callum? That seals it. Tomorrow, in my ritual room, I’ll make sure she begs for a death I’ll never give. “Mama!” A small voice. Outside the door. My five-year-old. Callum. “Papa said you’re sick. I came to take care of you!” Nola straightens up fast. She leans over me. “Keep playing dead. I’ll deal with your pup.” My eyes snap open. I try to scream— “Callum — go back! Mama’s fine—” It comes out barely a whisper. The wolfsbane has taken everything. Nola strides out. Her voice goes sharp. Loud. Dripping with authority she doesn’t have. “The Alpha heir? Your father said you’re not allowed near your mother. And you disobey? Ungrateful little—” “You think you can give me orders? Lock him in the storage room. No lights.” Callum is afraid of the dark. He’s been afraid since he was three. Panic claws up my throat. I throw everything I have into sitting up— My body slides off the bed and hits the floor. Outside, my son’s voice rings out. Small. But every word lands like iron. “Moon Goddess teaches us — a pup honors his mother above all.” “You’re no one. A stranger in my mother’s home. You don’t give orders here. You don’t raise your voice in my mother’s room.” “I’m going to find Grandfather. And when I do, you’ll answer for this.” I hear his feet — running. A smile cracks across my face. My pup. Nola’s voice shakes with rage. “Go. Tell the Alpha. Now!” She storms back in. Looks down at me on the floor. “Oh, Briar. On the floor like a rogue. How sad.” “You want the truth? That pup won’t reach the old wolf. Tyson’s already replaced every wolf around the old Alpha with his own. No one’s letting that pup through.” I know. I know all of it. Let Tyson take everything. Let him think he’s the winner. He doesn’t see what’s behind him. Once he’s gone, Callum is the only heir. A five-year-old heir needs his mother. And this mother has an entire army of Ironveil warriors one howl away. Let them have tonight. After tomorrow, the only one playing games will be me.

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After we got back together, I changed every single habit Alexander hated. I stopped calling him to ask where he was. I stopped getting jealous over nothing. I stopped making a scene over the little things. Even when I found a delicate diamond bracelet in his suit pocket. I simply took it out and placed it quietly on the vanity. He thought I had finally learned to be understanding. He thought I finally realized how hard he worked for our future. What he didn’t know was that my one-way ticket to Paris was already booked. I was leaving him. For good. *** Alexander paused when he walked into the bedroom and saw the bracelet on the vanity. His face darkened. He loosened his silk tie but didn’t head straight to his study like he usually did. Alexander had sharp, aristocratic features and a chillingly handsome face. He carried the heavy, natural authority of a man who ruled a business empire. But right now, he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking incredibly exhausted. “Sophia dropped that,” he said. “There was a yacht party hosted by her father last night. She drank on my behalf, and the sea breeze was freezing, so I let her wear my coat. She must have slipped her bracelet into the pocket and forgotten about it.” He looked at me, making an explanation he would usually deem beneath him. “I’ve told you a thousand times, Zoey. She’s only the daughter of my grandfather’s oldest business partner. The Wright and Reynolds families have massive joint ventures. I have to play nice.” “Past, present, future—there is absolutely nothing between us.” I remained silent. Seeing my lack of reaction, a rare crack appeared in his always-calm composure. A look of sheer helplessness—something I had never seen on his face before—flickered in his eyes. “What do I have to do for you to believe me?” I smiled gently. “Nothing. I believe you. I’m not angry.” It was like throwing a heavy punch only to hit empty air. Alexander’s face went blank for a second. “…Then why are you acting like this?” I glanced at my watch, calculating the time I needed to get to JFK Airport, and offered a quick excuse. “You always said you didn’t like listening to useless details. I have an appointment to handle some personal business, so I need to head out early.” I turned to grab my purse, completely ignoring how his face suddenly fell. “You don’t usually go out at this hour,” Alexander said, his voice dropping. “It takes at least forty minutes to get downtown from here. You’re leaving way too early.” I hadn’t prepared for him to pay this much attention. I was forced to look up and meet his sharp, analyzing gaze. “It’s first thing in the morning. Instead of going to the office to handle the files for tonight’s charity gala, who are you running off to see?” Just as the suspicion in his eyes began to deepen… *Ding—!* A custom ringtone echoed through the room. It was Sophia. Alexander’s sharp gaze instantly shifted. His eyes flickered, looking guilty for a split second. “It’s Mr. Reynolds. I need to take this.” He immediately threw his suspicion of me to the back of his mind, turning to walk out onto the balcony. “Go ahead and make your own plans.” I nodded, quickly grabbing my handbag and coat. But before I could close the front door, he called out to me from the balcony, sliding the glass door open slightly. “Be careful on the road.” His voice was low, carrying that familiar, dismissive tone he used when he was trying to placate a child. “The jewelry set I ordered for you will be delivered tonight.” “I promised you before—I will never miss another anniversary.” “Happy seventh anniversary.” “I’ll see you tonight, Zo.” My hand froze on the doorknob. On our last anniversary, he had abandoned me at our dinner table to accompany Sophia to her father’s birthday gala. I had been in so much pain back then. Yet now, hearing him mention it, my heart didn’t even flutter. “You should answer your phone,” I whispered, not looking back. “Don’t keep her waiting.” After all, Sophia couldn’t wait. And my flight wouldn’t wait either. As for our anniversary… This year, next year, and every year after that—I would be permanently absent. ***

I barely made it onto the morning flight to Paris. Once I sat down in my first-class seat, a wave of dizziness hit me. I had skipped breakfast in my rush. Instinctively, I reached into my handbag. Sure enough, my fingers brushed against a box of artisanal chocolates. Ever since I had fainted at a high-society gala years ago due to severe stress-induced hypoglycemia, Alexander had made it a strict habit to slip a box of chocolates into my bag before any major event. As the sweetness melted on my tongue, the dizziness quickly faded. But right after, a lingering, suffocating bitterness rushed up my throat. Seven years together. How did Alexander and I end up here? In the beginning, I truly believed his excuse—that Sophia was just a family friend he had to indulge for the sake of business. That was why Alexander always kept his distance from me in public, introducing me merely as his “Executive Assistant,” while treating Sophia with utmost care as his “family sister.” When the manager of the Wright Group’s European division made my life a living hell at work, Alexander did nothing. But when someone slightly inconvenienced Sophia’s project, that person was fired the next day. People in their wealthy circle secretly nicknamed Sophia “the future Mrs. Wright.” They said it right to my face—the face of the “assistant” who was never publicly acknowledged. I forced myself to understand his pressure. But that “special treatment” eventually bled into our private life. Alexander stood me up again and again, canceling our dates the moment she called. Our first explosive fight happened on a cold night a year ago. I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a grid of photos posted by a mutual friend. Alexander, who had told me he was locked in a grueling, all-night global board meeting, was actually attending the Monaco Yacht Show with Sophia. I had begged him for months to take me to that very show. He had rejected me coldly: *“Those events are mindlessly superficial. It’s not appropriate for you to attend as an assistant.”* I remembered tugging on his sleeve back then, teasing, *“But I heard they’re debuting a limited-edition yacht this year. Can’t we just go look?”* Alexander hadn’t even looked up from his tablet. *“Going to those vanity shows is a waste of time.”* Yet in those Instagram photos, he was the picture of elegance, smiling warmly at Sophia. There wasn’t a single trace of annoyance on his face. When Alexander finally came home that night, I asked him in a flat, dead voice: “How was the Monaco Yacht Show?” A flash of surprise seemed to cross his eyes. Or maybe I was just hallucinating. Because a second later, his face became completely blank, devoid of any guilt. “Did you hire someone to stalk me?” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant, icy hand. I couldn’t breathe. “Do I need to stalk you?” “The pictures of you and her at the show are all over social media!” My chest heaved violently as I struggled for air. “Alexander, if you want to break up, just say it! You don’t have to lie to me like this!” Alexander’s expression didn’t even change. He was as calm as a detached spectator. “If you don’t even have basic trust in me, then I have nothing to say.” “Zoey, I’ve been networking all day. I don’t have the energy to fight with you.” No guilt. No explanation. Compared to my hysterical, messy self, he was so painfully dignified. He didn’t even forget to place the yacht show’s souvenir brochure neatly on the coffee table. The luxurious yacht on the cover felt like a sharp blade, stabbing straight through my chest. All the resentment and humiliation I had suppressed for years suddenly boiled over. The last thread of my sanity snapped. In a fit of rage, I grabbed the brochure and hurled it at the floor. The envelope wasn’t sealed. The items inside tumbled out, scattering across the hardwood floor with a soft clatter. I didn’t even look down. I just stared at Alexander with bloodshot eyes. We glared at each other, like two enemies on a battlefield. After a long, agonizing silence, he grabbed his coat and slammed the door as he left. I stood there like a statue, frozen in the cold apartment. Until something rolled against my foot. I looked down. My breath caught. It was chocolate. A scattered mess of handmade, customized chocolates. My heart softened again. I decided I wanted to talk to him. To fix us. ***

But for three whole days, Alexander didn’t answer my calls, and he didn’t come home. I swallowed my pride, typing a message through my tears: *“I’m sorry for throwing a tantrum without talking to you first.”* *“But it’s a fact that you lied about the global meeting to go to the yacht show with her.”* *“Tonight is our sixth anniversary. I’ll be waiting for you at home.”* *“Can we please just sit down and talk?”* I waited from sunrise to sunset. He never showed. As the clock neared 11:00 PM, I finally made up my mind to drive to his family’s estate to find him. But on my way to the parking garage, I ran into Marcus Rossi—the manager Alexander had kicked off the project team. He had been drinking, his eyes wild with rage. He dragged me into a dark alleyway. “Fucking bitch! I don’t dare touch the future Mrs. Wright, but you think I won’t touch a pathetic little ‘assistant’ like you?” I screamed. I called Alexander’s private number over and over, but it just went to voicemail. If it hadn’t been for a security patrol car passing by and scaring him away, my injuries would have been far worse than just a sprained ankle and bruised wrists. When my phone suddenly lit up and started ringing in the back of the police car… I let out a sharp, traumatized gasp. Seeing his name on the screen, the strength that had held my spine straight all night collapsed instantly. I broke down, crying hysterically into the receiver. “Alex—” “Hello?” Sophia’s voice answered, thick with sleep and a soft, irritated whine. “…Who is it… so late…” In the background, I heard Alexander’s deep, muffled voice close by. Sophia seemed to cover the mouthpiece, whispering softly to him, “It’s fine, go back to sleep… I think it’s just Zoey.” Then she spoke back into the phone. “He drank too much at the downtown club tonight and just fell asleep. If it’s about work, can it wait until tomorrow?” My throat felt like it had been stuffed with burning coal. The raw flesh of my throat felt scorched, blistered, and torn. The pain was so intense I wanted to rip my own vocal cords out. Simply pressing the button to end the call felt like it took every ounce of life left in me. I went to the police station alone, limping, looking utterly wretched. By the time the paperwork was done, the clock on my phone hit 12:01 AM. I finally received another call from Alexander. His tone was as arrogant and detached as ever. “Have you realized your mistake yet?” In that second, I understood. He had done this on purpose. All those unanswered calls on our anniversary. It was his punishment for my “lack of trust.” Tears streamed down my swollen face, burning my scraped skin like battery acid. When I spoke, my voice was a broken, raspy whisper. “Alexander, let’s break up.” There was only a second of silence on the other end. Then, Alexander let out a cold scoff. “Fine. Don’t regret it.” He hung up without a shred of hesitation. He agreed to the breakup as if throwing away a piece of trash. ***

In the beginning, the hardest part was falling asleep. I couldn’t stop tossing and turning, replaying every single detail of our seven years together. I was terrified that I had misjudged him, that I had unfairly sentenced our relationship to death. I went through our text history over and over. But the more I read, the more miserable I became. The sadness slowly twisted into a dark, suffocating resentment. I began to hate Alexander. Six years. Six whole years of my life. I hated how easily he had discarded me, without a single ounce of care. At 4:00 AM one night, in a fit of agony, I blocked and deleted him from every single social media platform. I dragged myself out of bed, packed every single item he had ever bought me into heavy boxes, and shoved them into the back of the storage locker. I thought doing this would bring me peace. But it felt like trying to swat a mosquito that was draining my blood, only to end up covered in my own wounds. I still had to attend essential business galas as his “former assistant” or “ex-project lead,” pretending nothing was wrong. But only I knew that a massive piece of my heart had been violently carved out. That piece had belonged to Alexander. It had rotted away. To survive, I had to amputate it. But I forgot that when the wound is too deep, the body bleed to death anyway. My emotional dam completely broke when I ran into him at a charity gala a month later. Alexander was as poised and commanding as ever. In fact, he looked even more radiant, as if my absence hadn’t affected his life in the slightest. Sophia was clinging to his arm, looking up at him with a blushing, secret smile. After that night, I stopped sleeping entirely. I couldn’t keep any food down. Since Alexander didn’t have public social media, I began obsessively stalking Sophia’s Instagram. I analyzed every single post, every geotag, looking for traces of him. I kept this up until my blood sugar crashed, and I fainted during a networking cocktail hour. I woke up in a hospital bed. Alexander finally condescended to visit me. It was the twenty-ninth day after our breakup. He sat by my bed, casually spinning the matching silver promise ring on his finger. “You’ve lost weight, Zo.” I stared at him, my eyes hollow, my mind completely numb. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Alexander let out a satisfied, victorious smile. And just like that, we got back together.

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My CEO boyfriend just gave the promotion he promised me to someone else. And demoted me to a satellite office. He casually told his friends, “Chloe needs this platform more. Evelyn is stronger anyway; she can go to the New York branch and open up the new market.” “It’s her own fault for refusing to hand over the design drafts for the Starlight Collection to Chloe. A little reality check will teach her how to make the right choice. Don’t worry, I know Evelyn better than anyone. Where else could she possibly go without me?” My mind went completely blank. Among my luggage scattered on the floor was the anniversary gift I had specially bought for Liam. I left the group chat, blocked his number, and threw the gift in the trash. Then, I accepted the job offer a rival company’s partner had sent me. He had no idea. He could throw away our future for Chloe. But I could throw him away, too, and choose my own path. Liam’s words cut through my heart like a knife. He used to say his partner had to be a capable, independent woman, not someone relying on family connections. So I started from the very bottom. The Creative Director position was a promise he made to me five years ago. He promised that once I secured that role, we’d get married. But now, he handed it to someone else on a silver platter. Without even having the decency to tell me to my face. In the group chat, someone asked him, “What if Evelyn actually accepts the relocation?” Liam laughed it off. “Are you kidding? She worked harder than anyone for this promotion, pulling all-nighters just to be closer to me. There’s no way she’d agree to move that far away from me… You guys just don’t get it.” The guys in the chat started hyping him up, calling him a boss. Then someone else chimed in. “But what if she really does? She’s incredibly protective of her projects. She’d never just let someone else take them.” Liam paused for a few seconds before typing back, his tone turning cold. “Cut the crap.” “Evelyn can’t live without me. Last time I went to New York for a merger, she found an excuse to fly out to see me within three days. This relocation is miles away. There’s no way she’d agree to it.” “To her, I’m way more important than any job title or project. She’ll back down. Just watch.” After that, the chat went dead silent. After a long pause, someone finally ventured, “Liam, isn’t that a bit harsh on Evelyn? I mean, she built the Starlight Project from scratch. Everyone knows that. You should at least talk to her.” Liam let out an annoyed sigh. “Ugh, I don’t want to deal with it.” “You know how dramatic Evelyn can get. If she finds out I gave the director position to Chloe, she’ll blow up. It’s easier this way. Less drama.” The group chat buzzed again. “True, Chloe’s family has way more influence anyway.” “Liam really is the man.” … Those casual jokes crushed what was left of my spirit. I wanted so badly to call him, to scream and demand answers. But my thumb hovered over the screen, unable to press dial. In the end, I just stared blankly at the ceiling, completely numb, and buried myself under the covers.

Staring at the ceiling, my mind drifted. How could someone change so fast? The Creative Director position was his promise to me five years ago. He told me it wasn’t just a job—it was the throne he saved for me, the starting point where we could stand side by side and receive everyone’s blessings. He had said, “Once you’re in that seat, we’ll get married. I want the whole world to see that the woman I chose deserves the absolute best.” But just when our future was finally within reach, he let go of my hand and ran toward someone else. If he wanted to give the position to Chloe, I wouldn’t even have hated him if he had just been honest. But why keep me in the dark? Did he really think so little of me? If I was such a nuisance, what was that late-night proposal, when he slipped a ring on my finger and promised me forever? Was the night too dark, the lights too dim, for him to see who he was actually promising his life to? I curled into a ball, hiding in the dark, and finally let the tears fall. The irony was, I wasn’t the one who couldn’t survive without him. He was the codependent one. Every time I took on a major project and we had to be apart, he would get incredibly anxious. He only calmed down when he dragged me back to the core decision-making table by his side. So while I steadily built my career, I constantly pulled him along with me. Liam was right about one thing—I had always written him into my future. I was willing to compromise for love, as long as it didn’t compromise my integrity. But that didn’t mean I would let him walk all over me. I closed the company portal I had accidentally opened, wiped my tears, and logged out of my work email for the last time. He had his schemes, but I had my backup plan. From now on, our paths diverged. I had just finished washing my face when my phone buzzed with a FaceTime call from Liam. “Babe, pick up! I need to see you!” When I didn’t answer, he sent several more FaceTime requests before finally texting: “We’re all at our usual spot. Everyone’s waiting for you. Come over, I’ll send my driver to pick you up.” But I was done. “Tired. Staying in,” I replied. The reply came instantly. “Are you sick? I’m coming over.” “No. Don’t come,” I texted back, frowning. Just as I hit send, a text from Chloe popped up. “Evelyn, I’m so sorry. I practically begged Liam to let me tag along. I didn’t know it would upset you. I can leave right now. As long as you come, I don’t mind going home.” The text reeked of fake sweetness. Before I could reply, my phone started blowing up with notifications from the group chat, tagging me repeatedly. “Evelyn, what is your problem? Can you not stand Liam having other friends? Your jealousy is getting out of hand.” “Are you seriously throwing a tantrum just because Chloe is prettier and more popular than you? Get over yourself.” I froze, my instinct to explain myself dying instantly when a direct text from Liam arrived. “Evelyn, I invited Chloe. If you’re mad, take it out on me. Why are you targeting her?” “Whatever. Come or don’t. We actually get things done faster without you here anyway.” Right after, someone posted photos of them at a high-end restaurant in the group chat, with a passive-aggressive caption: “Dinner tastes so much better without certain people bringing down the vibe.” Unbelievable. I left the group chat, blocked every single one of them, and then blocked Liam on Snapchat, FaceTime, and my contacts. He used to be my pinned contact. Now, he was just trash in my blocked list.

To be honest, when Chloe first joined us as a representative for our partner company, I actually considered her a friend. Back then, Liam even warned me, saying she wasn’t as innocent as she seemed and told me to keep my distance. I spent so much energy trying to smooth things over between them to make the partnership work. But that changed at the annual charity gala. Chloe traded her clunky glasses for a stunning red silk gown, and overnight, Liam’s tune changed completely. He never told me to stay away from her again. Instead, they grew closer and closer. He started introducing her to our most important clients and investors. By the time I realized what was happening, my hard-earned professional network had been handed over to her. Liam treated Chloe with a strange, delicate tenderness. Once, after Liam and I had a massive blowout over a major investment decision, we didn’t speak for three months. I told him, “If you think Chloe aligns better with your vision, I’ll step down from the executive team.” But Liam actually cried. He held me and said, “You’re the only one I care about, Evelyn. Chloe’s family is going through a rough patch and her company is sinking. I’m just helping her out of pity while integrating their assets.” And I, like a fool, believed him. He treated me like an idiot. Their “strategic partnership” became a convenient shield for their constant flirting. And now, he had officially kicked me out of the game just to clear a path for her. I felt like the biggest joke in the world. By the time I snapped out of my thoughts, the sun had set. My mom came home and noticed my sour expression. She smiled softly. “Fight with Liam again? He called me saying you blocked him. He wants you to unblock him.” I muttered a vague excuse and headed out. HR had scheduled my final transition meeting. When I entered the conference room, the prime seat to Liam’s right—which had always been mine—was empty. Without hesitating, Chloe slid right into it. Liam didn’t object. He casually accepted the cup of coffee she handed him, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on me. He was waiting for me to bow my head and apologize. Too bad for him. I walked past them and sat at the far end of the long conference table. “Alright, everyone,” Liam announced, his voice professional. “Starting today, Chloe will be taking over as Creative Director. She will also head our partnership with Vanguard Group. Evelyn will be relocating to our New York branch to oversee the expansion.” Ethan, the senior executive from Vanguard Group, suddenly looked at me and smiled. “What a coincidence. Our headquarters in Paris is actually looking for a Creative Director with exactly your caliber, Evelyn.” I ignored the VP’s question and opened my mouth to speak to Ethan, but Liam stood up, grabbed my arm, and pulled me out of the conference room. “Evelyn, when are you going to stop this?” Liam hissed the moment the door shut. “First the silent treatment, and now you block my number?” “I’m warning you, unblock me right now, or don’t even think about stepping foot in my office again.” I stared at his angry face for a second. “Good. I wasn’t planning on it anyway.” Liam’s face flushed with anger. “Fine! Don’t come crawling back begging for my attention later!” I turned to leave, but he suddenly grabbed my wrist again, his eyes softening slightly with a strange urgency. “The transfer deadline is tonight. Review the relocation package and benefits again. Make sure you didn’t miss anything…” Before he could finish, Chloe stepped out of the room with a folder. “Liam, babe, I’m a bit confused about this European market budget draft. Do you have a few minutes?” “Sure, let’s take a look,” Liam said instantly, focusing his attention on her papers. I let out a cold laugh and walked away. By the time Liam looked up to say something else, I was already at the door. “Evelyn, make sure you double-check those contract details! Double-check them!”

Please. He really thought his word was law. He probably thought the threat of being shipped off to New York would scare me into giving up my projects and begging him to let me stay. Keep dreaming. Since he didn’t have the guts to tell me the truth, I played along. He thought dealing with my feelings was too much work, and honestly, explaining myself to him was exhausting. Thank God my brain finally started working again. Back in the room, Ethan noticed my tense expression. After the meeting adjourned, he invited me to a small private cocktail party to take my mind off things. As I was leaving the venue later that evening, I ran into Liam standing near the entrance, his face dark. He glared at Ethan, his expression murderous. I knew he was jumping to conclusions, but I couldn’t care less. I walked right past him, treating him like a ghost. Near the entrance of the parking garage, I bumped into him again, this time talking to one of our VPs. “Liam, seriously, you need to talk to Evelyn,” the VP was saying. “Are you really okay with sending her to New York alone to start from scratch?” Liam scoffed. “She’s expanding our market. Why wouldn’t I be okay with it? Besides, she’s definitely signed the relocation agreement by now. She’s just throwing a tantrum to get my attention.” I paused, stepping right into their line of sight. Liam quickly dismissed the VP. Ethan gave me a polite nod and walked ahead to give us space. Liam cornered me against my car. “Going to parties behind my back and hanging out with our rivals? You’re getting pretty bold, aren’t you, Evelyn?” “Did you think this would actually make me jealous?” He grabbed my wrist, his voice dropping into that familiar, casual tone. “Fine, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you the other day. We’re good now, right? Did you sign the transfer papers?” Then, he hesitated before adding, “Also… do you mind taking a quick look at Chloe’s budget draft? She’s struggling with the numbers.” I stared at him in dead silence. The tension became thick enough to cut with a knife. Right on cue, the click of high heels echoed through the garage. Chloe sauntered over, pouting. “Liam, the legal team is being so mean to me. Can you come help me look at this contract?” Then, pretending to notice me for the first time, her eyes widened in fake surprise. “Oh! Evelyn! You’re here too? Don’t tell me you saw the industry press release about me being here and decided to follow us?” “Please don’t get the wrong idea. I just wanted to learn, so I begged Liam to bring me. I’m still so new to this and need all the exposure I can get.” Ugh. There it was again—that grating, manipulative tone. I had zero energy to play along with her little drama. Taking advantage of Liam’s momentary distraction, I yanked my hand free and went to open my car door. But Chloe stepped right in front of my car, blocking my way.

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My best friend Lauren’s older brother, Logan, is finally back from his years abroad. Word on the street is that he’s been so buried in his career that his love life has been an absolute desert. Lauren couldn’t stop sighing about it. “I’m happily child-free, and my brother is a certified workaholic with zero romantic prospects. At this rate, the Miller family legacy ends with us!” A few days later, I finally met the man, the myth, the legend. And my brain completely short-circuited. Why did he look exactly like the guy I slept with four years ago—the biological father of my daughter? I’d heard Lauren rave about her brother for years. He was a man with a reputation for having an iron will in the business world, and he’d been her idol since they were kids. But ever since Lauren and I became friends, he’d been stationed overseas managing their international mergers. I’d never actually laid eyes on him. Until a week ago, when Logan officially returned. And this time, it seemed like he was back for good. Now, looking at Lauren, who was completely wasted and passed out on the bar table, I was trying to figure out how to haul her home. Suddenly, her phone buzzed. It was Logan. I hesitated for a moment. But when the phone started ringing for the third impatient time, I finally swiped to answer. “Where are you? I’ll come pick you up,” a deep, raspy voice vibrated through the speaker. Honestly? It was incredibly hot. My ears started burning for no reason, and I cleared my throat. “Hi, I’m Sophia, Lauren’s friend. She’s… a little past her limit right now.” Before I could finish, Lauren suddenly bolted upright from the table like a zombie. “My poor, tragic brother!” she wailed into the night. “He sacrificed his youth to conquer the overseas market, and now he’s old, single, and totally unwanted! He’s going to die alone!” The other end of the line fell into a terrifying, dead silence. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, curing my own mild buzz instantly. “She’s really drunk. Here’s the address.” “Eight Maple Street,” he said simply. The line went dead. I waited with Lauren inside for a bit, and when the time felt right, I helped her outside to wait by the curb. In the distance, a sleek black SUV pulled up. A tall man stepped out of the driver’s seat. He was wearing a sharp, tailored cashmere coat that emphasized his broad shoulders and insanely long legs. I couldn’t make out his face in the dim light, but his silhouette alone was striking. But the next second, the air caught in my throat. He shut the car door and started walking toward us. His stride was steady, carrying an aura of effortless authority. As the streetlights illuminated his face, the shadows shifted, and his features began to look terrifyingly familiar. My fingers tightened around Lauren’s arm, my entire body freezing up. *No way,* I screamed internally. *It’s been four years. The world is huge. There’s no way…* He stopped right in front of us. He was so close that I could see the sharp angle of his jaw and catch the faint, crisp scent of cedarwood radiating from him. Then, he looked up and locked eyes with me. Time slowed to an absolute crawl. Those sharp, piercing eyes, the deep-set brow, the firmly set lips. Every single detail dragged a buried memory right back to the surface. That chaotic night… the burning heat of his skin in the dark, the roughness of his palms, his heavy, ragged breathing in my ear… My heart hammered violently against my ribs. It was him. It was really him. The stranger from the bar four years ago—the man whose name I didn’t even know, but who had given me my beautiful daughter—was standing right in front of me. Lauren’s brother, Logan Miller, was Nina’s father. My one-night stand. Right then, the phone in my pocket began to vibrate furiously. The FaceTime ringtone sounded deafening in the quiet night. “Is that Nina?” Lauren mumbled, leaning heavily on my shoulder and squinting at the screen. “It’s so late… pick up…” My fingers trembled violently as I reached into my pocket. Logan stood there, his towering figure practically casting a shadow over me. I swiped the screen, and Nina’s chubby little face filled the display. “Mommy!” Her bright, sweet voice cut through the tense air like a knife. I saw Logan’s brow twitch ever so slightly. “Nina,” I turned my body away, lowering my voice to escape the gaze that felt like it was burning a hole through my skull. “Why are you still awake, sweetie?” “I missed you, Mommy! Where are you?” Nina peered curiously at the screen. In the background, I could hear my mom, Lisa, telling her it was bedtime. “Mommy’s outside, I’ll be home soon,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though my throat felt like it was closing up. “Go to sleep with Grandma, okay?” Even without looking, I could feel Logan’s eyes locked onto the side of my face. “Okay… Goodnight, Mommy.” Nina blew a kiss and hung up. The moment the call ended, the silence returned. But this time, it was tighter, heavier, and charged with something dangerous. Lauren was now practically draped over her brother, mumbling nonsense. Logan held her steady with one arm, but his gaze never left my face. “Sophia,” he said suddenly. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. My heart leaped into my throat as I looked up to meet his eyes. “Do you need a ride home?” he asked. “No…” I gasped, desperate to escape. “I can manage. Thank you.”

Having Nina was a complete accident. Four years ago, I had just gone through a brutal breakup. I went to a bar to drown my sorrows and ran into a man who was the definition of brooding, dangerous, and insanely attractive. Every breath he took seemed to cater exactly to my specific type. Fueled by liquid courage, I took him home. To my surprise, we were perfectly, mind-blowingly compatible that night. To this day, I could still feel the phantom sensation of his large, calloused hands gripping my waist, sending shivers down my spine. At the time, I thought maybe, just maybe, this could turn into a real relationship. But the next morning, he woke up to a phone call that made his expression turn incredibly grave. “Understood. I’m on my way.” He got out of bed and dressed in a flash. Then, he scribbled a string of numbers on a piece of paper. “I have an emergency cross-border acquisition I have to handle immediately. You can reach me at this number.” I didn’t even know his name. I figured we’d get in touch later, but a month later, I stared at a positive pregnancy test. In sheer panic, I called the number. It rang and rang. Nobody ever picked up. I assumed I’d been ghosted. He probably wasn’t interested, made up a dramatic excuse to leave, and gave me a fake number to keep me from clinging to him. Due to some health complications, abortion wasn’t a safe option for me, so I chose to have the baby. And I never regretted it. Nina was the sweetest, smartest little girl, and these past years with her had been the best of my life. The next morning, Lauren called me, nursing a massive hangover. “My brother is such a brute! He practically threw me into the car and bruised my arm. I’m telling you, Sophia, men like him are dominant and have zero gentleness. Avoid them at all costs…” Before she could finish, Logan’s deep, emotionless voice drifted through the line. “It seems you’ve already forgotten the lesson from last night.” Lauren instantly shut up. But then, she seemed to remember something, and her tone turned shameless. “Hey, Logan, are you free this afternoon? Can you help my friend move?” “No.” “Perfect!” Lauren completely ignored him and spoke directly to me. “I found us some free labor. He’ll help us move this afternoon.” “No, really, Lauren, I can do it myself,” I pleaded. “Come on, we’re family! Plus, he’s just adjusting to the jet lag and has nothing better to do anyway.” I thought Lauren was joking. But that afternoon, she actually showed up at my place. And right behind her was a towering, breathtakingly handsome man.

I own a boutique coffee shop in the city center. I’ve been running it for years, and business is pretty good. I don’t have extra staff, so I handle everything myself. Sometimes, when it gets crazy, Lauren comes over to help out. Lately, business has been great, and I’d saved up enough to upgrade my living situation to a nicer apartment. That afternoon, I was in the middle of labeling moving boxes when I heard arguing outside my door. “You made me cancel a business dinner just to help her move? She didn’t even hire a moving company…” “What’s wrong with helping her move? Do you sleep on the streets, Logan? If you keep being a jerk, I’m telling Dad you’re a heartless monster!” “Fine. I’m keeping score,” Logan replied, his voice calm, though the threat was clear. “You better pray you don’t need a favor from me anytime soon.” Realizing they were about to start a full-blown sibling war, I quickly stepped out. “It’s fine, really! I don’t have that many boxes. I don’t need this much help.” I looked up, intending to apologize to Lauren’s brother. “I’m so sorry, Logan. Lauren didn’t explain things clearly, and she dragged you here. I—” The words died in my throat. He was wearing a dark brown overcoat today, looking even more striking in the daylight than he did under the streetlights last night. His features were sharp, his jawline perfectly chiseled, and his eyes—the exact same eyes that had haunted my dreams again last night—were locked onto me. My heart skipped a beat. Even though I’d realized the truth last night, seeing him this close in the broad daylight brought a wave of raw, overwhelming shock. I hadn’t even processed the fact that he was Lauren’s brother, let alone how to face him. I forced myself to look away, turning to Lauren. “…I can really do this myself.” “Fine! If you don’t want to help, just leave! Nobody’s begging you with that grumpy face of yours anyway,” Lauren rolled her eyes and linked her arm through mine. “Don’t apologize to him, Sophia. He’s been gone for years and has completely lost his manners.” “I never said I wouldn’t help,” Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Where are the boxes?” “Wait, what?” Lauren blinked. “The boxes. Where are they?” Logan took off his overcoat, revealing a perfectly tailored black button-down shirt that subtly showed off the hard lines of his chest and back. He draped his coat over a chair and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. The muscle definition in his forearms was insane—he clearly worked out religiously. My mind flashed back to the night of our one-night stand, remembering how those strong hands had gripped my waist… I violently shook my head to clear the thoughts. With Logan there, Lauren and I were instantly relegated to the sidelines. Lauren sat by the counter, sipping coffee and scrolling through Snapchat, happily bossing her brother around. I hid in the bedroom, pretending to be busy packing clothes. My mind was a complete mess. *Does he remember me? Probably not. It’s been so long…* As I was spiraling, a deep voice broke the silence. “I’ve moved everything from the living room.” “Oh! Thank you!” My bedroom wasn’t huge, and with his massive frame stepping inside, the space suddenly felt incredibly cramped. I instinctively took half a step back, accidentally knocking over a small storage organizer. Logan reacted instantly, bending down to catch it. The lid popped open, revealing a piece of neatly folded lace underwear. The delicate, soft fabric caught on his finger, creating a stark, wicked contrast against his black sleeve. I froze. I vividly remembered wearing something very similar that night… My face flushed a violent crimson. Logan stared at me, his eyes darkening. He leaned in, so close that I could count his eyelashes. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous murmur. “You seem terrified of me, Sophia. Why?” My breathing hitched, our gazes locking. Trapped and desperate, my brain completely short-circuited, and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “Lauren told me you hit women!” Without waiting for his reaction, I ducked under his arm and bolted out of the room. Outside, Lauren heard the commotion and walked over. “Hit women? Who the hell is hitting women?!” With Logan’s help, the move went incredibly fast. An ordeal that should have taken until 8 PM was completely wrapped up by four in the afternoon. Lauren didn’t want to overstay, so she grabbed Logan to leave. But the giant of a man stood firmly in my half-unpacked living room, looking like he had no intention of moving. “Is Sophia really so stingy that she won’t even buy us dinner?” he asked smoothly. My cheeks burned. “Of course I can. What do you guys want to eat?” Lauren’s eyes went wide. “Logan, how do you have the nerve? Asking my friend to buy you dinner? Are you serious?” Logan’s face remained impassive. “You guys pick the place. I’ll pay.” “Okay, now we’re talking!” Lauren grinned, linking her arm with mine and whispering, “My brother is loaded, Sophia. It’s rare for him to open his wallet. Don’t be polite—pick the most expensive place you can think of!” I don’t know if it was coincidence or fate. But the restaurant we ended up choosing was right next to the bar where Logan and I had met four years ago. Neither Logan nor I were big talkers. Thankfully, Lauren was a chatterbox, keeping the atmosphere from becoming painfully awkward. Still, I could feel Logan’s gaze lingering on me throughout the meal. It was intense, burning, and completely undisguised. Suddenly, my phone rang. Lauren immediately leaned over to sneak a peek at the screen. “Is that Nina? Oh my god, I miss her so much. Put her on FaceTime!” Across the table, Logan’s expression froze. As I stood up to take the call outside, I caught his deep, strained voice asking: “She’s… married?”

Logan’s question immediately set Lauren off. “What is that supposed to mean? You don’t need a husband to have a kid, Logan. Don’t be such an old-fashioned boomer!” “So she’s not married?” Logan instantly relaxed, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his drink. A tiny smirk played at the corner of his lips. “Good. What about the father? Have you met him? Who is he?” Lauren stared at him, her expression turning suspicious. “Logan, you’re looking a little too happy about this. You can’t start hating on other people’s happiness just because you’ve been single for a century.” Logan raised an eyebrow. Lauren leaned in. “Look, when Sophia gets back, don’t you dare bring up Nina’s dad. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t dated anyone else because she still can’t get over that deadbeat jerk.” Hearing this, Logan’s smirk vanished instantly. By the time I walked back to the table, they had finished their little hushed argument, and I sat back down. I’d never told Lauren the full story about Nina’s dad. For one, we only met after Nina was already born. Secondly, I figured I’d never see the guy again, so there was no point in digging up the past. I had only vaguely mentioned that the father was unreachable after I got pregnant. But Lauren had clearly filled in the blanks herself, assuming he was a classic pump-and-dump scumbag. To spare my feelings, she had never pressed for details. And now, things were incredibly awkward. Even though I felt guilty lying to Lauren, I didn’t dare drop the truth bomb about Nina’s parentage yet. I didn’t know Logan well enough. If things went south, it would ruin my friendship with Lauren. Later that evening, Lauren and I had a few drinks, so Logan naturally took the keys to drive us back. As the car headed north, Lauren pressed her face against the window. “Wait, you’re going the wrong way! Sophia’s place isn’t over here.” “I’m dropping you off first,” Logan said smoothly. “I have some errands to run later, so I’m not heading straight home.” Lauren pouted, grumbling, “If we knew you were busy, we wouldn’t have let you drive. Sophia and I could have gone to another bar for round two.” Logan glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “In your condition? I don’t think so.” The car pulled up to the Miller estate, and Lauren reluctantly got out. Feeling the suffocating tension of being alone with Logan, I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt. “Actually, my place is pretty close from here. I can just call an Uber. Since you have errands—” “It’s no trouble. It’s on my way.” Lauren nodded in agreement through the window. “Yeah, just let him drive you. He doesn’t have anything important to do anyway!” Pushing it any further would make me look guilty, so I had no choice but to accept. “Where to?” “Cherry Street Apartments, please.” He glanced at me through the rearview mirror, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Didn’t you want a round two? I’m taking you there now.” “No, really, Lauren was just joking,” I said politely. “Thank you for today, Logan. Sorry for the trouble.” “Are we really going to pretend we’re strangers, Sophia?” I hadn’t expected him to be so direct. My breath hitched. Before I could answer, he spoke again, his voice filled with certainty. “You remember.” “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Liar,” he murmured. “Did Lauren never tell you what my background is? I’m trained to read micro-expressions and emotional shifts.” Panic surged, and I tried to force my face into a blank mask. Seeing this, Logan let out a soft, genuine laugh. “I was kidding about that part.” “Logan!” “There you are,” he said softly. “You’ve been so incredibly tense around me all day.” Terrified of giving away anything else, I shut my mouth and refused to say another word.

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