Category: English

Today is my 18th birthday. My parents forgot, but my online boyfriend sent me a gift. A nightgown with very little fabric. He sent me a voice message, “Baby, come to the hotel and wear it for daddy, hehe.” My name is Linda. I’m 18 years old this year. Is it reasonable to receive a uniform from my online boyfriend on my coming-of-age day? After all, my parents divorced when I was young. I lived with my mother after she remarried, and my mother and stepfather had another child. I’m just an invisible nobody who doesn’t get any attention. My mother’s neglect and my stepfather’s favoritism made me timid and reluctant to speak. Being so lonely and insecure, with no family or friends caring about me, my boyfriend naturally became my whole life. My relationship with my boyfriend Jason was simple. Long-term lack of love, plus the pressure of senior year studies, made me turn to the internet as an escape and a way to act out. The online world is vast and carefree. There, I didn’t have to do anything to have many people care about and sympathize with me. Especially in this private chat room that was very popular. Although some people there said things that were a bit over the line. Like “Little sister, how old are you? Have you had a boyfriend? I like young and tender girls the most.” “What’s wrong, little sister? Are you lonely? Don’t worry, tell big brother where you are, and I’ll come give you a hug right away!” “Sister, I’m a good guy, can you show me your photo?” And so on. These people are really disgusting. I could even imagine all those lewd faces behind the phone screens. Of course, I wouldn’t talk to these creepy people. I had my eye on someone else. “What’s wrong? Did you come here because something unhappy happened? I have a lot of time. If it’s convenient for you, we can chat.” Such a simple sentence, yet it had been absent from my life for the past dozen years. Are you happy? No one cared if I was happy or not, let alone ask. Only he did! This stranger, with just a simple sentence, touched my heart. Am I unhappy? I didn’t reply. His messages continued. “Don’t worry, this is the internet. We’re all strangers here. You can tell me your troubles and sorrows. I won’t know who you really are. I’ll just comfort you, and I absolutely won’t bother you.” That’s right. He doesn’t know who I am. I don’t need to worry or be afraid. I can pour out my heart and vent freely. My mother’s unfairness, my stepfather’s coldness, the pressure from school, the uncertainty of the future… “My parents divorced. I live with my mom. She had another daughter, and I’m no longer her favorite baby… I feel so alone.” I said a lot. He was very attentive, replying to every sentence I said. “That’s so pitiful. Every person is a living being and has the right to enjoy love.” He was also very gentle, comforting me and giving me hope. “If you were my friend in real life, I would definitely give you a comforting hug.” I received long-lost warmth, even if it was from a stranger. Chatting is indeed a good way to pass time. We talked for so long that time quietly slipped by. I hadn’t eaten all day. My stomach was growling. When I looked up, I realized it was already dark. I had to end this pleasant conversation. “I have to go,” I told him. His reply was quick. “So soon? Although we’ve only known each other for a day, I feel like we’ve known each other for a long time. Knowing how hard your life is, I’m sorry I can’t do anything for you.” He sent a sad emoji afterwards and asked to add me on SnapChat. Looking at our chat history and how he cared for me, this was exactly what I had been praying for but couldn’t get. Having finally obtained it, I didn’t want it to just disappear. So, I agreed to add him on SnapChat. He told me his name was Jason, and if I ever felt unhappy about anything, I could always find him. At first, I didn’t pay much attention. After all, people need to learn self-control, so I almost never reached out to him. But he often came to find me. He never missed sending good morning, good afternoon, and good night messages every day. The questions he asked most frequently were: Did you eat enough today? Are you happy? Is there anything you’re unhappy about that you’re hiding from me? Gradually, I started to get used to his presence. At that time, he was like a big brother caring for me, and I enjoyed the emotional value he brought me. Then, he confessed his feelings to me. I still remember what he said when he confessed. “Linda, do you know? From the first time we chatted, I marveled at the wonder of fate. From your words, I could see that you are my destiny!” Of course, I didn’t believe it. “You haven’t even seen me. How can you say I’m your destiny?” My words didn’t discourage him. On the contrary, his care for me became more meticulous, and he was more attentive in everything. That’s when I realized that “destiny” doesn’t necessarily have to be between two people who have met in person. Because I seemed to be gradually falling for him too. That day, after I finished showering, I didn’t reply to his messages for a long time. When I opened my phone, I found over twenty unread messages. “Linda, why aren’t you replying? When you don’t reply, my whole heart is uneasy. I’m worried about you!” “Linda, I’ve realized I love you to the point of no return. Even if I don’t hear from you for three seconds, I feel uncomfortable all over!” “Linda, what are you doing? Have you forgotten about me?” No one had ever put me in such an important position before. The emptiness in my heart seemed to be filled. The corners of my mouth turned up involuntarily. I told him I was just taking a shower. He sent an embarrassed emoji. “Linda, we’ve been talking for so long, and I’ve fallen for you so hopelessly. Can you fulfill one wish for me? Can you show me your photo?” I thought for a moment. “No.” Although we had been chatting for a long time, I actually didn’t know much about him. Most of the time, our topics were about me. He sent a very hurt emoji. “Not knowing what the person I love looks like is too cruel for me.” I was moved. After thinking for a while, I still chose a pretty good photo and sent it to him. “Oh my god! This is exactly what my dream girl looks like! Linda! You’re so beautiful! Linda, just looking at your photo, I’m already imagining what it would be like for us to get married and have children! I want to be with you, be with you forever, and build a happy family with you!” “If we have a child, I will definitely pay extra attention to them. I will never let what happened to you happen to them!” “My baby has been through so much. If I could, I really want to fly to your side and give you a comforting hug!” Just a few simple lines of text made me blush. My grades weren’t good, and college was already out of reach. Although this thought was a bit shameful – I really wanted to have my own family and a man who loved me wholeheartedly. Jason’s existence made me feel “happy” for the first time. Moreover, he said he would treat our children well. He wouldn’t let my tragedy happen to them. Jason was really a warm person. He was worthy of my expectations and aspirations. After that, Jason became even more attentive to me. Although I had never seen him, he had appeared in every corner of my life. Even if we didn’t chat for just an hour, I couldn’t help but think about him. Slowly, he offered to send me gifts. After asking for my name, contact information, address, and school information, I received many small accessories and pretty clothes. Girls are always happy to receive gifts, and I was no exception. Mom didn’t care about me. I hadn’t bought new clothes since freshman year of high school. I felt that Jason treated me better than my own mother. So, I agreed to be Jason’s girlfriend. On the night I agreed to be his girlfriend, my phone kept ringing. Dozens of confession messages from him made my heart sweet. “Linda, can you send me another photo? I love you so much! You finally agreed to be with me! You’re my first love. I want to fall asleep holding your photo!” I blushed. After all, his way of expressing love was too direct and intense. I gave him one. But he didn’t seem satisfied. His message came a few seconds later. “Linda, the photos you send always only show your face. I want to know you better. Can I see other parts? I can’t not know what my girlfriend’s figure is like, right?” I asked him what part he wanted to see. “Can I see your legs?” He sent a pleading emoji. Although legs aren’t a private part, it still felt strangely embarrassing. I said no. Jason’s message came very quickly. I could feel his anxiety from his words. “We’re boyfriend and girlfriend now. What’s wrong with seeing your legs? Don’t worry Linda, I don’t have any other intentions. I just want to get to know you better.” To be fair, he had indeed been very good to me, and I had been chatting with him for over half a year. He had never said or done anything that made me uncomfortable. Maybe he really just wanted to know me better when he asked for photos of my legs? He was so good to me, yet I wouldn’t even let him know what my figure was like. This did seem a bit unreasonable. So, I sent a photo of myself wearing shorts. Long, slender white thighs stood straight, with the girl in the photo making a “peace” sign. “My baby is so beautiful! What a great figure!” His compliments made my heart bloom. I sent an embarrassed emoji with a smile. The next day, I received another package from him. It was an even sexier mini skirt. “My baby’s legs are so beautiful, you must wear the prettiest skirt to match them!” At his request, I put it on and took a photo for him. Once you open that door, it’s hard to control what comes after. He started asking for photos of other body parts, like my upper body in low-cut tops, exposed collarbones, and later, even a few photos of private areas. And I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. After all, we were boyfriend and girlfriend, right? If I could send photos of my legs, I could send others too. That day, he said he wanted to see photos of me without clothes. How could I agree? Who would be comfortable with such embarrassing photos? Seeing his impatient words, I could only refuse politely. For the first time, his attitude towards me turned cold. “Other people’s girlfriends are by their side, but my girlfriend is so far away from me.” “I just want to see you, see everything about you, because I love you. But now, I can’t even quench my thirst by looking at plums!” “Linda, if you’re not willing to agree to even this, I’m starting to doubt if you really love me.” I looked at his words and fell into deep thought. Do I have to send such revealing photos just because I love him? I still refused. He didn’t answer. For a whole day, he didn’t send me a single message. I had already gotten used to his companionship. Without his messages, my life returned to its previous lonely state. I seemed out of place in this world, lonely in a corner. I couldn’t help but reach out to him first. “Are you there? What have you been doing today? Why haven’t you replied to my messages?” “Are you very busy? I miss you a little.” “When you don’t reply, I feel like the whole world has lost its color.” I didn’t even understand how these cheesy words came from my fingertips.

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Hailey’s boyfriend opened a private yoga studio, Whispering Willow Yoga Studio, charging a jaw-dropping $2,500 per session. The price was steep enough to hurt my teeth, but the place was constantly packed with clients. Especially the mistresses of wealthy men. No matter how poor their posture or demeanor, they’d walk out looking like regal swans. Curiosity got the better of me, and one night, I followed one of those mistresses into the studio’s changing room. That’s when I heard the chilling sound of a woman begging for mercy from the other side of the wall… Content Ever since Hailey started dating Zachary “Zach” Carter, a wealthy and resourceful man, our parents treated her like a queen. Meanwhile, I was the unwanted bonus that came with their cellphone plan. So, now and then, I’d poke at her boyfriend’s perfect facade. “Zach’s good-looking, capable, and surrounded by women all day. Aren’t you afraid he’ll cheat?” Hailey rolled her eyes as she saw right through me, utterly unbothered. “He’s obsessed with me,” she replied smugly. “Every night, without fail, he’s all over me. How could he have time for anyone else? You’re just bitter. I was almost thirty, still single, and walking around hunched over like some grandma. Even Mom looks younger than you!” Her words pierced straight through my self-esteem. From childhood to now, Hailey has always been the one everyone praises. I was the one people criticized. I had poor grades and no friends, and now, not even a man would take me if I begged. Hailey was the exact opposite. Brilliant, beautiful, and constantly swapping boyfriend-like outfits. And now, she was with someone as seemingly perfect as Zach Carter. I swallowed my tears and kept mopping the floor. Behind me, Hailey lounged on the couch, legs crossed, chatting on the phone. “Zach, what time will you be back tonight?” “You have another session? With Penny again?” “Ugh, I still remember the first time I saw her. She looked like some backwater hillbilly. After just a week of your sessions, she’s posting on Instagram looking like a total debutante.” After some idle chat, her tone shifted. “Zach, your sessions work wonders. Why won’t you ever let me come to the studio? I’m your girlfriend, after all. I want to be prettier too…” Click. Zach hung up on her. Even I could hear the sharp tone of the disconnection. Hailey’s face darkened, and she snapped at me, “What are you staring at? Get out!” I dropped the mop, clenched my fists, and let an idea take root. I had Penny Hawthorne’s contact. When Zach’s classes exploded in popularity, it was through my connection that Penny reached him. I opened Instagram and saw her latest post: a sultry, half-draped selfie. Her skin glowed smooth as silk, her posture radiated confidence, and her aura was captivating. Forget men—even I felt my pulse quicken. Every inch of her body looked like an artist had sculpted it. Her caption read: “9 PM session tonight! So excited!” It was already 8:30. I hailed a cab to the studio. The place was tucked away in a quiet, unlit area on the outskirts of town. Penny arrived shortly after I did, sneaking into the building like she was up to no good. Not even bothering with a flashlight, she climbed the stairs by moonlight. I followed her, heart pounding, holding my breath. On the second floor, doubt started creeping in. If I got caught, Hailey would lose her mind, and our parents would probably throw me out because I had embarrassed them. But… I glanced at Penny’s silhouette ahead of me. Even in the dim light, her figure was alluring and seductive. I wanted to be beautiful too. If I could expose Zach—whether it was cheating or some dark secret about this private yoga—he’d have to do whatever I asked. Click. Penny entered a code, and the automatic doors slid open. Before they closed again, I darted inside.

Zach wasn’t there yet, so I trailed Penny into the changing room. No lights were ever turned on. The studio relied entirely on the pale moonlight spilling through the windows. After showering and changing into yoga gear, Penny left. I stayed behind, glancing at my phone. It was precisely 9 PM. I heard movement outside—Zach had arrived. “Coach, are we starting now?” Penny’s voice was sweet and saccharine, enough to make anyone gag. Zach didn’t reply, but Penny started making sounds. It was…odd. Panting, gasping, somewhere between pain and pleasure. I thought, Is this really yoga? Why does it sound so intense? Could Zach be…? Summoning all my courage, I turned the doorknob and peeked through the crack. Even with my eyes wide open, I could only make out blurry shadows. The dim lighting heightened my other senses. The sounds were sharper, more urgent, like someone being devoured. Then came a man’s guttural noise, strange and feral, quickly drowned out by Penny’s cries. Through the darkness, I squinted hard enough to make out faint silhouettes. Penny lay on the ground in a yoga pose, her movements fluid. Beside her, the man moved like a ravenous animal, hunched over and devouring his prey. Even without clear visuals, what was happening was obvious. “My leg hurts! I think I pulled something. I can’t keep stretching!” Penny’s voice trembled with pain, almost sobbing, but the next moment, she called out to “Coach” in a higher pitch. I felt both confused and envious. The bizarre session lasted until my phone’s battery died from recording. It was all Penny’s one-woman show; Zach never spoke a word. If I showed this to Hailey, she’d laugh it off as inconclusive. No, I needed something more substantial. When the session ended, Zach left. Penny returned to the changing room to shower. I watched through a crack in the door as she admired herself in the mirror, completely naked, under her phone’s flashlight. “Finished class. Wish you were here~” She posed provocatively, likely for her sugar daddy. Her body was mesmerizing—an hourglass figure with flawless curves. Her legs were noticeably longer and straighter than before. When Penny finally left, I inspected the studio. The air still reeked of something unidentifiable. Under a yoga mat, I found a strange clump of silk-like material. By the time I got home, it was past 10 PM. Zach now lived with us, supposedly so someone could “care for him.” Hailey served him indoors while I played maid outside. Our parents were asleep as usual, and Hailey’s bedroom door was closed. I went to the bathroom to wash Zach’s laundry, but his clothes were spotless, and there was no evidence of him showering after class. That made no sense. On returning to my room, I noticed Hailey’s door was ajar. Peeking inside, I saw them on the bed. Zach was completely different here—his crude words sent me shivers. How could he be so cold and silent at the studio but vulgar and lively here? I blocked his path when he eventually left Hailey asleep and stepped into the living room. “I have proof you cheated on Hailey.” He smirked, unfazed. “So?” “You’re my future brother-in-law. I don’t want to ruin your relationship with my sister.” I clenched my fists. “I just have one request—teach me yoga. I want to be prettier than Penny Hawthorne.” Zach’s eyes scanned me, full of disdain. “Your starting point’s pretty bad,” he said, smirking. “But it’s not impossible.” His voice turned low and cryptic. “Tomorrow night at 9. Whispering Willow. Come ready—I’ll need to inspect you first.”

I stumbled back to my room, legs weak and hands trembling, still in shock that this was happening. Unable to contain my excitement, I pulled out the strange clump of material I’d grabbed from Whispering Willow Yoga Studio. Under the bright lamp, I saw it clearly—a tangled mess of fine, silky white threads. But what exactly it was, I had yet to learn. I posted about it on social media, adding a vague caption. Unsurprisingly, the post sank without a single comment. I wasn’t expecting much anyway. Zach had already agreed to teach me, and that was all that mattered. That night, I slept soundly, waking up the following day feeling refreshed. When I checked my phone, the post from last night had been bumped up with a comment in the middle of the night. It was from a random account with a default avatar and a gibberish username: “Where did you find such a cursed thing?” “Cursed?” I typed back quickly. “I just picked it up on the road.” The reply came instantly: “Have you been dealing with someone strange?” Strange? Zach Carter certainly fits the bill. “What is this stuff, anyway?” I asked. But the person avoided the question, telling me not to go anywhere at night for the next few days and not to trust anyone. As if I’d listen. The chance to transform myself was proper in front of me. I didn’t care if it meant walking straight into hell. Before heading out that night, I put on the nicest dress I owned, styled my hair, and spritzed on some perfume. I made sure to pass by Hailey on purpose. She spat a grape seed and sneered, “Ugly is still ugly, no matter how much you dress up. Who’s the poor blind soul you’re trying to impress? Don’t you worry about giving them nightmares?” For the first time, her words didn’t sting. At the studio door, I hesitated as I entered the code Zach had sent me. The clock struck 9 PM. Strangely, I heard noises that weren’t coming from the main door but rather … from beneath the floor? Before I could investigate further, something brushed against me. “Zach?” I whispered. The room was pitch dark, and a sickly, rotten stench hit my overly sensitive nose, making it hard to breathe. Whoever it was stayed silent, their hands roaming freely over me. I had mentally prepared for this, but their aggressive pace made me tremble with anxiety. “This isn’t right… I thought you were teaching me yoga?” My protests were useless against the overpowering force holding me. For nearly thirty years, I’d never even been kissed. Now, I was being stripped bare in mere moments. I hunched over, clutching the thin fabric over my chest like a lifeline. But my awkward resistance only seemed to excite him further. His hot breath hit my face, wet and heavy, like a panting dog: “Huff…” With one hand, he effortlessly pinned my arms above my head, leaving me completely vulnerable. RIP. The sound of tearing fabric shattered the last of my defenses. I stopped resisting. If this was the price of becoming beautiful, so be it. As his hands explored every inch of me, my body gradually softened, unfamiliar sensations coursing through me. Just when he was about to take the final step, he suddenly stopped. A faint rustling sound broke through the silence. “What’s that?” I asked, leaning weakly against him, still catching my breath. The man abruptly pulled away before I could process anything, leaving me exposed and confused. In an instant, my wrists and ankles were wrapped in those same fine, silky threads, pulling tight—then yanking me in four different directions. “Ahhh!” A sharp, searing pain shot through me, overwhelming every nerve.

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When Zach Carrington paid off a $500,000 gambling debt for Sophia Delaney’s father, he didn’t bother consulting me, his wife. Outraged, I confronted him, only to be met with indifference: “I earned that money, so I’ll spend it however I want. I don’t need your permission.” I didn’t argue. I simply walked into the home office. That night, I transferred the last $400,000 from our shared account and left a divorce agreement on his desk. The next day, I booked an appointment to terminate my pregnancy. Content I first heard that Zach Carrington had fallen from a building through a friend while I was confined to bed, trying to stabilize my pregnancy. Despite being three months along and in a fragile state, I panicked and rushed to Bluegrass Regional Medical Center. I was so anxious that I tripped and fell on the way. By the time I reached the hospital room, out of breath and disheveled, I heard a woman’s muffled sobs through the door. Edging closer, I peeked in to see Sophia Delaney curled up next to Zach, her tear-streaked face pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Zach. This is all my fault,” she choked out. Pale and haggard, Zach sat propped up in bed, his left arm in a cast. Gently, he pulled her into his embrace with a tenderness I had never witnessed before. “Don’t be silly. You’re okay, and that’s all that matters. This? This is nothing.” I froze in the doorway, my bedraggled appearance making me feel like an utter fool. Ignoring the dull ache in my abdomen, I turned and walked away. The urgency I had felt moments ago now seemed laughable. Returning to the empty expanse of our house, I sat in silence until nightfall. It was in the dead of night that I started bleeding. Sharp pains wracked my stomach as I fumbled to call 911. By dawn, I was in the hospital. Thankfully, the baby was safe. For the sake of the pregnancy, I stayed in the hospital. My room was only a floor below Zach’s, but the distance felt like an unbridgeable chasm. While hooked up to an IV, I scrolled through my phone and stumbled upon a news alert: “Yesterday afternoon, a woman on South Main Street attempted to jump from a building after a family dispute. Her boyfriend, trying to save her, fell alongside her. Both landed on safety cushions.” The accompanying photo showed a tall man cradling a fragile woman as they fell, their pose evoking an image of unwavering devotion. It was Zach and Sophia. To the world, they looked like the perfect couple. I stared at the screen, numb, before closing the article with a bitter laugh.

On the fourth day of my hospital stay, Zach called me. His voice was cold, laced with reproach. “Celia, do you even know I’m in the hospital? It’s been days, and you haven’t bothered to visit. Do I even matter to you as a husband?” Unmoved, I replied flatly, “I’ve been busy.” His anger flared. “Busy? You’re a housewife. What could you possibly be busy with? You just don’t care about me. If I’d known how heartless you are, I never would’ve married you!” The line went dead as he slammed the phone down. The busy signal hummed in my ear as I sat, lost in thought. We had been married for five years. In the beginning, we were courteous, even affectionate. Now, every interaction felt like a battle. Looking back, the cracks had appeared long before. When Zach started working late and staying out overnight, claiming he had to work overtime, our marriage became little more than a hollow shell. Even trying to conceive had been an uphill battle. I had begged him for months before he reluctantly agreed. Whenever we were intimate, he treated it like a chore, devoid of affection. After I became pregnant, I went to every appointment alone. He didn’t even know that I had been put on bed rest due to low progesterone. To him, Sophia Delaney was the center of the universe. I stayed in the hospital for two weeks without a single call from Zach. When I was discharged, I returned home at dusk, only to find Zach had also been released. The dimly lit living room was eerily quiet. He sat on the couch, his left arm still in a sling, his face unreadable. “Where have you been?” he asked, his voice cutting through the silence like frost. “I’ve been home for two days, and you’ve been nowhere to be found. What were you doing?” I sat down at the dining table, my tone indifferent. “Just needed some time to clear my head.” “Clear your head?” His voice rose, frustration flickering in his expression. “I’ve been hospitalized for weeks, and you’re out clearing your head? While I’m injured?” I glanced at him, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sophia seemed to be taking good care of you. What could I possibly add?” Zach’s eyes darkened. “That’s right. You’ll never be as attentive as Sophia! She’s been running herself ragged for me while you haven’t lifted a finger. You’ve failed as a wife!” His righteousness ignited a flicker of anger in me. “If she’s so good, why don’t we just get a divorce? Let her have the title of Mrs. Carrington.” For a moment, he was stunned, but his face quickly twisted into anger. “Celia, stop being ridiculous. I’ve told you a hundred times—Sophia and I are just friends!” “Friends?” I scoffed. “Since when do friends risk their lives for each other?” “She’s been through so much,” Zach retorted. “Her father’s a gambler who abuses her when he loses. She almost ended her life, Celia. What was I supposed to do? Let her die? I’ve known her my entire life. How could I abandon her?” “And yet, you expect me to believe you’re just friends?” I countered, my voice sharp. “If she’s that important, why didn’t you marry her instead of me?” Zach faltered, his confidence wavering. After a pause, he glared at me and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. In the echo of his departure, I sat alone, the weight of his absence crushing yet strangely freeing.

This wasn’t the first time Zach Carrington and I fought because of Sophia Delaney. Sophia grew up in the same neighborhood as Zach. Her mother passed away when she was young, and her father was not only a compulsive gambler but also an alcoholic. Whenever her father lost money gambling, he’d drink himself into a rage and take it out on her with verbal and physical abuse. By the time she was 16, Sophia had dropped out of school to work odd jobs. Perhaps her tragic circumstances triggered Zach’s protective instincts because he had always looked out for her. They even dated once. At 20, Zach and Sophia were briefly together. But Margaret Carrington, Zach’s mother, vehemently opposed their relationship. Sophia’s lack of education and her father’s addiction made her entirely unsuitable in Margaret’s eyes. Not long after, under Margaret’s relentless interference, the two broke up. After their breakup, Sophia left Lexington and moved to another city for work. As for Zach, it wasn’t long before he met me through mutual friends. According to Zach, it was love at first sight. He pursued me tirelessly for two years, and eventually, I fell for his unwavering dedication. We dated, got engaged, and then married—it all fell into place so seamlessly. At first, our marriage was stable and harmonious, filled with mutual respect and care. But last year, Sophia came back into the picture. Sophia returned to Lexington because her grandmother was gravely ill. It wasn’t long before she and Zach reconnected. One night, after being beaten by her father during one of his drunken outbursts, Sophia called Zach, sobbing into the phone. Hearing her tearful voice, Zach rushed to her side. Their contact became increasingly frequent after that. Sometimes, Zach skipped my birthday or our anniversary to comfort Sophia. I fought with him about it countless times. But over time, the fights wore us down, and cracks began forming in our relationship. Around then, Margaret suggested, “Celia, why don’t you two have a child? A baby will strengthen your bond and make your marriage more stable. External influences won’t shake you so easily.” I listened to her advice and convinced Zach to try for a baby. Now, I regret that decision more than anything. This child should never have come into existence. 4 After slamming the door, Zach didn’t come home that night. The next day, Riley Hart called me, her voice hesitant. “Celia, I saw Zach last night…” she began cautiously. “He… he went to a hotel with Sophia.” “Oh,” I responded flatly, my tone devoid of emotion. “Got it.” “Got it?!” Riley’s anger exploded. “Celia, he’s probably cheating on you! What kind of man does this while his wife is pregnant? He’s scum!” Her anger on my behalf brought a wave of emotion crashing over me. Tears welled up as I choked out, “Riley… I almost miscarried recently. But Zach doesn’t care about me or the baby. All he cares about is Sophia.” “That bastard!” Riley swore furiously. “If anything happens to you or the baby, I’ll make them pay!” Fueled by righteous fury, Riley ranted about Zach and Sophia for the next half hour. I didn’t expect her to take matters into her own hands after we hung up. She confronted Sophia in person and tore into her mercilessly. Later that evening, my phone buzzed as I was brewing herbal tea for my pregnancy. It was Sophia. Her voice quivered as she began crying over the line, “Celia, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to come between you and Zach. He’s just an old friend. We grew up together, so we’re naturally close. Please don’t misunderstand…” “Enough!” I interrupted, my patience snapping. “I don’t care about whatever’s going on between you two. Just don’t call me again.” I ended the call without hesitation. Minutes later, my phone rang again. This time, it was Zach. Without so much as a greeting, he launched into a tirade. “Celia, why are you making things difficult for Sophia? She’s been through enough already! Can’t you be a little more understanding?” His audacity enraged me. “Where were you last night?” I demanded. “Sophia was upset,” he replied calmly. “I was keeping her company.” “Oh, keeping her company? Does that require booking a hotel room for the entire night?” Zach’s voice hardened. “Her dad was drunk and violent again. She had nowhere else to go. What was I supposed to do? Bring her home? Celia, stop being so petty. You weren’t like this before.” At that moment, exhaustion washed over me. I hung up before he could finish his excuses. Whatever we once had, it was gone. 5 That night, Zach’s bank account suddenly showed a $500,000 transfer. Since his account was linked to my phone number, I received the notification immediately. Despite our cold war, I couldn’t ignore such a significant amount. I dialed his number at once. It took several tries before he picked up. His tone was curt and impatient. “What now?” “What did you do with $500,000?” I asked directly. There was a pause before he admitted, his voice unsteady, “Sophia’s dad owed $500,000 in gambling debts. I paid it off for him.” “You what?!” My voice rose in disbelief. “Zach, have you lost your mind? Five hundred thousand dollars?” Rather than showing any remorse, Zach sounded self-righteous. “If I hadn’t paid, they would’ve taken Sophia to settle the debt. She would’ve been forced to marry some older man. She’s only 27! I couldn’t just stand by and let her life be ruined!” I felt my chest tighten as rage and despair surged through me. After a long moment of silence, I forced myself to speak calmly. “Something like this—you should’ve discussed it with me first.” Zach scoffed. “I earned that money. I’ll spend it however I see fit. Money can be replaced, but Sophia’s life can’t.” I had no words left. I hung up, utterly drained. Yes, the money was his, but I had been there during the early days of his business, working alongside him late into the night. That money represented years of effort—our effort. We had been saving to buy a bigger house, but now… That was the moment I knew our marriage was truly over. Without tears or anger, I walked into the home office. I drafted a divorce agreement, transferred the remaining $400,000 in his account to my brother, and packed my things. Late that night, I drove away from the house we had shared for five years. Our five-year marriage ended in silence and finality. 6 The next day, I walked into the clinic for the procedure. As the cold instruments invaded my body, I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They flowed uncontrollably. I had fought so hard to keep this child, but now I was the one ending his life. The pain was searing as if a piece of my soul was being ripped away. But no matter how much it hurt, I had to stay resolute. I couldn’t bring this child into a broken, single-parent household. Nor could I let him become a pawn for Zach Carrington to manipulate and bind me to him forever. If I was going to end this, it had to be clean and final. As they removed my child, an ache sharper than any physical pain spread through my chest. I didn’t regret ending my marriage, but I deeply regretted allowing this child to come into my life only to take it away. After the procedure, I forced myself to leave the clinic alone, ignoring the discomfort radiating. In the hospital lobby, I ran into Zach and Sophia. Sophia’s face bore faint bruises, evidence of some recent injury. Zach’s left arm was still in a sling, and his right arm was draped protectively around Sophia’s shoulder as they walked together, his expression gentle as ever. When they saw me, both froze. “Celia?” Zach asked. He subtly removed his arm from around Sophia and frowned. “What are you doing here? A check-up?” I looked him over coldly, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Caught red-handed, Zach? Feeling guilty?” His face darkened immediately. “What nonsense are you spouting now?” “Am I wrong?” Zach’s expression grew stiff, but he held his temper because of Sophia’s presence. “Sophia’s dad hit her again a couple of days ago. Her arm hurt, so I brought her here for an X-ray. It’s not what you think.” How laughable. Sophia gets a sore arm, and Zach treats it like a crisis. Meanwhile, his wife nearly miscarried, and he couldn’t care less. I couldn’t bring myself to engage further. I turned to leave, but Zach grabbed my wrist. “What’s going on, Celia? Why do you look so pale? What are you doing at the hospital?” I yanked my hand away and spat out the words with icy precision. “Getting an abortion.” “What?” Zach’s face went blank, and after two stunned seconds, he practically shouted, “You aborted the baby?!” His shock sent a cruel, vindictive satisfaction through me. “Yes,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “Almost four months along. It was a boy, too. Looked just like you. Such a shame your mother won’t get a grandson now.” “Celia Winters!” Zach’s voice boomed through the lobby, his face contorted with rage. “Are you out of your mind?!”

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On our fifth wedding anniversary night, I arrived in my best suit, eagerly anticipating that my CEO wife, Madelyn Grant, would finally reveal our secret marriage at the gala. But instead, scandalous news about her first love, Carter Hayes, suddenly made headlines. Ignoring my feelings, she announced to the crowd: “Carter and I are indeed in a relationship. Please show your support for his new project.” As the crowd erupted in applause and cheers, Carter pulled Madelyn into a kiss. I didn’t cry, didn’t make a scene. I clapped along with the rest, offering my hollow congratulations. It wasn’t until later, when she realized how much I’d changed, that Madelyn begged me, in tears, to forgive her again. Content “Evan Cooper, what are you doing? Why are you being so unreasonable?” Madelyn Grant caught up with me, roughly grabbing my collar and dragging me into the shadows. “You know Carter’s career is on the rise. How could I just stand by and let a few haters insult and attack him?” I looked at her, meeting her irritated gaze. My eyes drifted beyond her, landing on Carter Hayes, casually mingling with his glass of champagne. He was radiant, basking in the crowd’s admiration. With every glance, I felt my heart bleeding. This gala was supposed to be the happiest night of my life. After two years of dating and five years of marriage, Madelyn promised to announce our marriage tonight. But in the end, I couldn’t compare it to her first love. For years, the recognition I had longed for was given to Carter with nothing more than a pitiful act. When she noticed my focus lingering on Carter, Madelyn’s expression darkened. She tightened her grip on my collar and warned, “Evan Cooper, don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning. You better not cause trouble for Carter at this party!” Her grip was suffocating, and the pain in my chest was unbearable. I pushed her away, coughing violently. Perhaps out of guilt, she gently patted my back and sighed softly. “Evan, stop making a fuss. The situation with Carter came up suddenly. Pretending to be a couple was a last-minute decision—I didn’t have time to discuss it with you.” This gala was meant to announce our secret marriage. Madelyn had invited company executives and a few entertainment journalists. She said she didn’t reveal the theme in advance to maintain an air of mystery. Yet now, not only were all the company employees here, but she’d also invited hard-to-reach reporters, directors, and investors. And she called this a “last-minute decision”? Once my breathing steadied, I scoffed, “Ms. Grant, you overestimate me. I know exactly where I stand. Who am I to question your decisions?” My reaction left Madelyn stunned. She stared at me for a long time, her expression complicated. As employees passed by, glancing curiously in our direction, she raised her clutch to shield her face, afraid someone might see us arguing. Watching her ridiculous antics, I suddenly burst out laughing. “Ms. Grant, you don’t need to do this. If I’m not welcome, I’ll leave.” With that, I stepped around her and headed for the door. “Enough!” Madelyn wasn’t ready to let it go. She followed closely, holding her clutch awkwardly to her face. “Evan Cooper, I explained everything to you! What more do you want?” Tired of her excuses, I stopped abruptly. Just as I was about to speak, Carter Hayes appeared. Casually, he wrapped an arm around Madelyn’s waist, pulling her close. He shot me a smug glance and said, “Madelyn, Director Warren mentioned he has a lead role in mind for me. Can you come and discuss the details?” Madelyn hesitated, casting me a fleeting glance. Then she said, “Evan, you go home first. I’ll join you after I finish discussing the project with Carter.” I watched the two of them, their closeness like a knife twisting in my gut. My fists clenched, but in the end, I could only mutter, “Fine.” Madelyn praised me for being understanding before turning away, a smile lighting up her face as she left with Carter. Not long after, Carter grabbed the back of Madelyn’s head and kissed her passionately. Flashes erupted as reporters swarmed them for photos. The two reluctantly pulled apart. “Carter is just so clingy with me,” Madelyn said shyly, her voice full of affection. “I hope everyone understands.” With his arm firmly around Madelyn’s waist, Carter shot me a triumphant look, basking in the spotlight. Unable to contain my emotions, I fled the suffocating scene.

When I got home, the first thing I saw was the wedding photo hanging by the entryway. The smiles we shared in that picture now felt like knives to my chest. When I first moved in with Madelyn, I redecorated the entire house out of love for her. I removed everything and replaced it with enlarged wedding photos, hanging them in nearly every room. When she saw it, she called me childish, scolding me for wasting time and money. She demanded I put the house back the way it was. I’d stubbornly refused, throwing small tantrums until she reluctantly gave in. Looking back now, I was pathetic. Barefoot, I kicked aside the matching slippers by the door and began taking down every photo from the walls. I carried them all downstairs and tossed them into the trash. Sweaty and exhausted, I stood in the now-barren house. The emptiness echoed the void in my chest. I thought back to college when I’d fallen in love with Madelyn at first sight. After a month of persistence, she finally agreed to be my girlfriend. We were inseparable, blissfully happy. I’d promised to love her forever. But after graduation, she became someone I no longer recognized. Madelyn grew ambitious, classifying friends and colleagues by status. She craved luxury and fine dining. To meet her demands, I worked tirelessly, pulling in clients and hustling for success. While I struggled, Madelyn maintained her flawless image, enjoying the fruits of my labor. When the company finally stabilized, I stepped into the background. To the world, Madelyn Grant was the face of Grant Enterprises, while I became invisible. I accepted this role willingly. Until Carter Hayes emerged as Hollywood’s rising star, everything changed the moment Madelyn saw him on screen. She’d once looked down on the entertainment industry. But one drunken night, Carter brought her home. That’s when I learned she’d spent the evening hosting a lavish party for the cast and crew to secure Carter a supporting role. I remember Carter’s smug expression as he handed her over, the suspicious marks on her neck, and how she clung to his arm even as I tried to take her inside. As I cared for her that night, she murmured Carter’s name in her sleep. Through careful questioning, I discovered Carter had been her first love. Their connection ran deep, dating back to childhood. Once Madelyn felt she was finally “worthy” of him, she pursued him with abandon. I’d known for a while that she loved Carter. I just hadn’t been willing to admit it. I thought our years together would make her turn back to me. But it was all wishful thinking. Finally, I understood. Better late than never.

After showering, I sat blankly against the headboard in the main bedroom. Rain poured down outside, a heavy, relentless storm. At first, I instinctively thought about going to pick her up. I even changed clothes, but then it hit me—I was being ridiculous again. I grabbed my phone, intending to call her, but her number appeared first. “Carter, just go to bed. Don’t wait for me tonight,” Madelyn slurred before hanging up. Her tone and the sudden disconnection confirmed it. I knew exactly where she was. To punish myself, I called Carter Hayes on video. He picked up instantly. The screen was almost entirely dark, but the unmistakable sounds of labored breathing filtered through. Carter chuckled softly, his voice laced with smugness. “Evan, I’m busy right now. Let’s talk later, okay?” The call ended before I could say anything, and my hand froze, unable to redial. Moments later, a breaking news alert popped up on my phone. I opened it and saw headlines about Carter Hayes: “Carter Hayes and Madelyn Grant’s Love Story Takes Center Stage!” Photos of their kiss from the gala splashed across the screen, accompanied by paragraphs of glowing praise. Comments flooded in, full of blessings for their “eternal happiness” and hopes for a “beautiful family.” I laughed bitterly, staring at the images for an eternity. At that moment, I could no longer lie to myself—Madelyn and Carter, indeed, were a perfect match. She is the head of Grant Enterprises. He is a rising star in Hollywood. They are a stunning couple. And me? Just a nobody. Carter’s social media was filled with new posts—everyone cozy, intimate photos of Madelyn accompanied by flirtatious captions. I felt like a clown, obsessively watching my wife flaunt her relationship with another man. As dawn broke, a message from Madelyn appeared on my phone: “Carter, I’m craving Eleanor’s Classic Chicken, Rice Soup, and Sammy’s Buttermilk Biscuits. Bring them to the office for me.” This was her way of making peace. Whenever we fought, and I couldn’t calm her down, she would do this—send me an order she knew I’d fulfill. In the past, these small gestures would have thrilled me. I’d have stayed awake all night, excited to win her back. But now? I hesitated for a long time before finally deciding to see her.

I arrived at the office before work hours. The building was quiet, except for the light coming from Madelyn’s office. I knocked and entered. She was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, drying her hair in a semi-sheer lace slip. She hadn’t noticed me yet, speaking on the phone. “Dr. Young, the baby’s only a month along. Let’s schedule the abortion while it’s still early.” “Madelyn, this is your first child after five years of marriage. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Evan first? I’m worried—” “No need,” she snapped, cutting him off. “It’s my body, and I’ll decide!” She paused, then continued coldly, “I’ve been drinking. Who knows if the baby will turn out deformed? Besides, Carter’s career is taking off. I can’t let anything hold me back.” The food container slipped from my hands, crashing to the floor. Startled, Madelyn turned around. When she saw me, her expression froze. “Evan… When did you get here? What did you hear?” She rushed toward me, gripping my sleeve desperately. “Evan, let me explain. I just found out about the pregnancy myself…” I didn’t respond. My gaze was fixed on the marks on her exposed skin—passionate, undeniable evidence of last night. Following my eyes, she looked down and gasped, quickly folding her arms to cover herself. I lifted my head and chuckled, my voice dripping with contempt. “Madelyn Grant, I heard everything. Are you still going to lie to me? You’re disgusting.” Madelyn, unaccustomed to such direct insults, teared up immediately. She hesitated, wanting to reach for my hand but ashamed to drop her arms. She paced. “Evan, Evan, please, listen. It’s not what you think…” At that moment, the door to the private lounge opened, and Carter Hayes emerged wearing a bathrobe. “Madelyn, what’s going on?” Tears streamed down Madelyn’s face as she turned to him. “Carter, please explain to Evan! He’s misunderstood our relationship.” Carter’s expression tightened briefly before he smiled lazily. “Evan, sorry about this. I got drunk last night, and Madelyn was kind enough to let me crash here. Nothing inappropriate happened. If it bothers you, I’ll leave.” But his demeanor didn’t match his words. The scratches on his chest were impossible to miss, and he adjusted his robe with a deliberate smirk. “Sorry, my clothes were ruined last night. The new ones haven’t arrived yet.” I stayed silent, watching their performance with a numb heart. Madelyn, thinking I believed Carter’s excuse, grabbed my wrist anxiously. “See, Evan? Carter explained it. We’re innocent.” I shook her off, smiling faintly. “Madelyn Grant, you’re a natural actress. Not being in Hollywood is a loss for the industry.” “What do you mean by that?” she asked, her voice trembling. I stared at her tear-streaked face, my voice steady. “It means we’re done. Let’s get a divorce.” Saying those words felt like a weight lifted off my chest. Ignoring her sobs, I walked away from Grant Enterprises, leaving her behind. When I picked up breakfast to bring to Madelyn this morning, a small part of me still clung to the hope that we could reconcile. But now, I’ve finally decided to let her go.

When I exited the building, the office was coming to life. Employees gave me a wide berth, sensing the storm in my demeanor. Only Ryan Dorsey, Madelyn’s assistant, dared to approach. He trailed me to the parking lot. When I stopped and turned to face him, he hesitated before speaking. “Mr. Cooper, there’s something I need to tell you. I thought about it all night, and you should know.” I exhaled deeply, forcing myself to stay calm. “What is it, Ryan?” He glanced at me nervously, then quickly looked down. “You gave me this job. Without you, I’d be nowhere. Even if I lose it for saying this, I don’t care.” “What’s going on?” I asked, frowning, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Ryan finally met my eyes. “Last night, I was working late. I accidentally saw Madelyn…” He faltered, then handed me his phone. “You’d better see for yourself.” The photos were explicit—Madelyn, barely clothed, straddling Carter Hayes. The accompanying video could have been better. The sounds alone turned my stomach. I chuckled darkly, returning the phone after forwarding the evidence to myself. “Delete everything, Ryan. Make sure she doesn’t find out. And thank you for telling me.” Ryan nodded, relieved, and left for the office. Back home, I packed my things—two suitcases were enough for everything I owned. As I was leaving, my phone rang. “Evan, I booked a table at your favorite steakhouse. Let’s have dinner tonight,” Madelyn said, her tone unnervingly casual. My anger flared. “Madelyn, are you deaf? If you want this divorce finalized, I’ll have dinner with you. Otherwise, forget it.” She paused, then started sobbing softly. “You used to do anything I asked. Now, you won’t even have one meal with me?” I laughed coldly. “Madelyn, do you think you deserve it?” Desperation tinged her voice. “Evan, please don’t be angry. Isn’t all this about recognition? Once Carter finishes his project, I’ll announce our breakup and our marriage. Isn’t that enough?” “No, it’s not. I want nothing more to do with you. You disgust me.”

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I am a demolition engineer. When the safety officer reported that someone might be in the hills and the blast should be delayed, I pressed the button anyway. Dozens were killed or injured, the site painted in blood and echoing with cries and wails. While my colleagues scrambled to rescue the victims, I calmly scrolled on my phone, telling them not to rush. In my previous life, after the disaster, my childhood friend accused me of negligence. My pregnant wife wept, calling me cruel and accusing me of premeditating it all. The furious villagers beat me to death. And my childhood friend married my wife, cashed in on the insurance payout, and lived a happy life. Then, I opened my eyes and found myself back to the moment when my childhood friend handed me the papers to sign right before the blast. …… Content “Carter, sign here. I’ve checked everything; it’s all good!” That familiar voice pulled me from my daze. I hesitated, staring at the pen and the stack of papers before me. “What’s the holdup, Hobbs? Don’t worry! I’ve double-checked everything. Everyone else has already signed—just waiting on you!” I turned to see the eager smile of Lucas Kendrick, a face I’d known for nearly thirty years. My childhood friend. My subordinate. In my past life, I’d never hesitated to sign whatever Lucas handed me. My signature on these papers had pushed me into an abyss I couldn’t climb. I signed and approved the demolition, and the blast killed dozens on the mountain. The furious families beat me to death. The memory of my previous life, of being battered until my body was unrecognizable, sent a shiver down my spine. This time, I picked up the papers and began reading them thoroughly. Every line of approvals, designs, blueprints, and explosive placements seemed flawless. But why did investigators in my last life conclude that these plans had a fatal flaw that caused the catastrophe? Seeing my hesitation, Lucas chuckled. “Come on, Carter. It’s just paperwork. We’re on a tight schedule here. Don’t tell me you’re considering revising the plan now—it’s been vetted already.” There were less than thirty minutes before the scheduled blast. If the demolition didn’t proceed on time, I’d face scrutiny, the company would suffer heavy financial losses, and I’d jeopardize this hard-fought project that could save us all. In my career, I’d overseen dozens of complex demolition projects. This one was supposed to be straightforward. But the “sure thing” had spiraled into a nightmare. Lucas pulled a bottle from his bag. “Fine, take your time. Meanwhile, I’ll open this up. This is a rare vintage, Carter—aged over a decade. You’ll owe me a toast after this!” As he turned to uncork the bottle, unease prickled in my gut. His casual demeanor almost assumed I’d sign without question. Could there be nothing wrong with these documents? Before I could decide, several colleagues entered the room. They saw me holding the papers and urged me to hurry. After my signature, these documents still required the company seal and additional processing. After combing through them, finding nothing out of place, I reluctantly signed. As Lucas took the papers, his smug expression made my heart skip a beat. Could he…? But the documents needed to be more spotless. I opened my mouth to call him back, but another colleague interrupted. “Carter, it’s time for the Ceremonial Toast.”

The Ceremonial Toast was a pre-demolition ritual we always observed. While some dismissed it as superstition, it had become ingrained in our team’s culture. Everyone would drink a small cup of liquor as part of the ceremony. In my past life, I only had one drink. Yet, the police later found excessive alcohol in my system and concluded that my intoxication contributed to the disaster. This time, I held the cup to my nose. It smelled like ordinary whiskey—a good bottle with a warm, inviting aroma. With my tolerance, one cup wouldn’t even leave me buzzed. But why had the tests only flagged me? Lucas’s expression tensed when I didn’t drink. Was there something wrong with this cup? “Carter, what’s the matter? Too fancy for you? I brought out the good stuff just for today!” Lucas teased. Everyone else turned to look at me in surprise. I’d never turned down a drink, not even the cheap moonshine the crew sometimes brought. “Carter, come on—it’s one drink. I won’t mess up a thing. With your tolerance, this won’t even scratch the surface.” “This whiskey’s smooth, rich, and warm. Just try it, and you’ll want the whole bottle!” Under their eager gazes, I raised the cup and downed it. But I wasn’t done yet. There was still time before the blast. I needed to be thorough. This time, I’d ensure every detail was checked. I instructed the observers to fly the drones over the site again, ensuring no one was in the blast zone. My mind raced, focused on finding the people who’d died in my past life. Back then, I’d died waiting for answers, never knowing where the fatal error had occurred. Not this time. I returned to the Operations Command Center, reviewing the feeds from every camera. As the countdown to the blast ticked closer, sweat beaded on my forehead. Suddenly, it hit me: Could the explosives themselves be tampered with? I rushed out of the command center, heading toward the blast site. Just as I reached the exit, Vivienne appeared, clutching her stomach. “Carter! It hurts! The baby—something’s wrong! You need to take me to the hospital!” I stared at her, my mind churning. Why was she doing this to me? She was six months pregnant; soon, we’d have a child together. How could she be willing to leave that child fatherless? When I didn’t react, Vivienne snapped, “Is your job more important than our child? I’m telling you—I need help! Take me to the hospital!” In my past life, she hadn’t been in any pain. She’d stood at the scene, scolding me. But now, her sudden distress seemed suspicious. Could Lucas have seen through my hesitation and enlisted her to distract me? Vivienne wasn’t supposed to be here. She’d insisted on accompanying me, claiming she wanted to see my work before the baby came. I’d broken protocol to bring her along, trusting her. But when did Lucas and Vivienne start working together? Their desperation to sideline me could only mean one thing: there was something they didn’t want me to find.

Vivienne clutched her belly, crying out in pain. Lucas Kendrick rushed in, his face a mask of concern. “Carter, you need to take Vivi to the hospital! I’ll handle things here. Don’t worry; I’ve got it covered. Just look at her—she’s as pale as a sheet!” Lucas and I had grown up together, always having each other’s backs. It was second nature for us to help each other in any situation. Usually, I’d have considered my wife and our unborn child my top priority. But this time, knowing what lay ahead, I wasn’t about to let my life slip away in confusion again. “Lucas,” I said, fixing him with a steady gaze, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this blast. I need to stay here and oversee it. Please take Vivi to the hospital. I trust you to look after her.” Vivienne’s cries faltered for a brief moment. Lucas also froze before stammering, “Me? Take her? Carter, it’s better if you go. What if something happens to her on the way? I can’t take that kind of responsibility.” Vivienne grabbed my shirt, sobbing hysterically. “Carter Hobbs! I can’t believe you’re this kind of man. What if something happens to our baby? Can you live with that?” I frowned. “I told you before—this site is dangerous. You insisted on coming. You said you wouldn’t blame me no matter what. So why the drama now? I’ll have an assistant take you to the hospital.” I had no time to argue. I had to uncover the problem before the blast. I called for an assistant to drive Vivienne, but she clung to my clothes, refusing to let me go. Frustrated, I pulled off my jacket, left her holding it, and walked out in my T-shirt. Behind me, Vivienne wailed loudly, and Lucas sighed theatrically. “Carter, man, I’m telling you, marriage is about patience. You’ve got to show her more understanding.” I shot him a cold glare. “Funny. You’re not married yet, but you seem to know about relationships and how to handle women.” The memory of their betrayal in my past life made my fists clench involuntarily. I wanted nothing more than to punch them, but I had no proof. The countdown to the blast was already underway. Reports from the site indicated everything was in order. My mind raced as I reviewed what could have caused the accident in my previous life. Where could the critical error have occurred? I walked to the nearest blast point and ordered the safety officer to retrieve the explosives for reinspection. The officer stared at me, bewildered. “We’ve got half an hour left, Carter,” he protested. “Removing the explosives and resetting them will take forever.” Lucas put on a puzzled face. “What’s going on, Carter? You’re acting strange today.” “Follow my orders,” I barked. Reluctantly, the safety officer complied and dug up the explosives. I inspected everything meticulously. The explosives were acceptable. The placement was flawless. I moved to another location and repeated the process. Still, nothing was wrong. By the time I finished, only ten minutes were left until the scheduled detonation. What the hell is going on? I broke out in a cold sweat when the observers reported all clear. The control room buzzed in, urging me to return for final preparations. Hoarsely, I replied, “I’m requesting a delay. I believe there’s a potential danger in proceeding with the blast.”

The room fell silent. Everyone stared at me in shock. Lucas grabbed my sleeve, leaning in to whisper, “Carter, what’s wrong? We’ve gone over everything multiple times. Nothing’s out of place. If you want to delay, you must give a reason.” I met his gaze with a cold stare. Lucas had been the first to accuse me in my past life, claiming that my design was flawed. He had testified that he’d spotted issues during construction but that I had ignored his warnings, leading to the deaths of so many people. Looking back, it was clear that he had orchestrated everything. All those lives—didn’t they haunt him in his dreams? The deputy chief engineer, Harrison Greer, cleared his throat. “Carter, did you find something during your inspection?” I couldn’t respond. What could I say? That in a past life, this seemingly routine demolition had turned catastrophic? But in this life, I had no evidence. A sharp pain twisted in my gut, and I clutched my stomach. Lucas hurried to my side, offering a bottle of antacid and a glass of water. “Stomach acting up again? Here, take this. Relax, Carter. We’ve handled far more complex projects than this one. It’s a walk in the park for us veterans.” I swallowed the medication, and the warm water eased the pain slightly. Harrison spoke again. “Carter, if you’ve identified a problem, I’ll back the delay. But without a concrete reason, I can’t approve it. The schedule is tight, and if we don’t detonate today, the weather forecast will prevent us from doing it for several more days.” Lucas chimed in, trying to smooth things over. “Carter’s been under a lot of stress. Probably just sleep-deprived, right?” The countdown continued. Three minutes left. The control room was silent, all eyes on me. With one minute remaining, my phone buzzed. It was a call from the project’s upper management. The stern voice on the other end demanded to know why the detonation hadn’t started. Under the pressure of his authority, I finally relented. “The blast will proceed as scheduled.” My eyes scanned the faces of my colleagues in the control room—men and women I had trusted in my previous life. Who else among them had been part of my betrayal? When the clock hit zero, I issued the command to detonate. My finger hovered briefly over the button before pressing it. As the blast rang out in waves, I caught a flicker of satisfaction on Lucas’s face. The observers began reporting in. “Point 1, successful detonation. All clear.” “Point 2, successful detonation. All clear.” With each confirmation, my tension mounted. My heart felt like it was about to burst. Finally, after Point 6’s report, the radio fell silent. Point 7 hadn’t checked in. My gut sank. Something had gone wrong.

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Title: What’s It Like to Have a Jerk for a Boyfriend? In chick lit, there’s a cliche called “replacement love.” It’s when the male lead, missing someone he loves, finds a girl who looks just like her. Unbelievably, I ended up as the unlucky woman studying abroad, only to be cheated on. My first boyfriend couldn’t dodge the cheesy plot; he started dating someone who looks a lot like me. When I came back to town, he brought his new girlfriend to my welcome home party. Friends from our circle were all waiting to see me flustered. They were in for a surprise though, as I brought my new boyfriend back as well. The day Kai Dawson broke up with me, he sent a text: “Sorry, Sue. I broke my promise. I don’t want to wait anymore.” At that time, I still had a year left in school. We had survived three years long-distance, but our relationship fell apart in the last year. He had shown signs of losing interest, so I wasn’t too surprised. Swallowing my sadness, I replied: “It’s okay, let’s just be friends.” “Alright.” But later, I found out he had blocked me. A good ex is like being dead. I didn’t blame him and just blocked him back. Before returning from Italy, some old friends insisted on throwing me a welcome back party. They didn’t tell me that Kai and his new girlfriend would be there. Luckily, my best friend couldn’t stand it and tipped me off. “Sue, don’t go! They just want to humiliate you! Kai’s new girl is afraid he might still have feelings for you, so she demanded this party to show off.” I shrugged off her concern, “Aside from them, there are other people I haven’t seen in a while. I’ll just give them face and show up.” “It’s all Kai’s buddies. I wish I could be there to support you. Don’t let them get to you!” “Thanks for the heads-up. If someone’s set the stage for me, I can’t let them down. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” The day I returned, I went to the party as planned. The waiter opened the private room door, and the first person I saw was Kai, sitting at the head of the table. A year hadn’t changed his good looks and confident demeanor. Next to him sat a stunning woman, his new girlfriend Evelyn, a recent hire at Kai’s company. She bore an uncanny resemblance to me. My heart tightened at the sight. I remembered two years ago when Kai sent me a picture of Evelyn. “A new recruit came in for an interview today. She startled me; I thought you had snuck back to surprise me.” Back then, Evelyn looked even more like me—same hairstyle, makeup, and fashion sense. I laughed it off, joking, “Maybe we’re related. I need to ask my dad.” Kai said, “No, she’s not. She’s from out of town, her parents are alive, and she has a twin brother who looks nothing like her.” “You checked into her background?” “Of course, we need to know about new hires.” Who would’ve thought that the girl I didn’t think twice about would replace me so completely? Back in the present, Kai’s friend Finn stood up. “Welcome back, Sue. It’s great to have our star back…” His voice trailed off as everyone looked at the man behind me. I greeted them calmly: “It’s been a while. Thanks for remembering me.” Finn forced a laugh and asked, “Sue, who’s this? Aren’t you going to introduce him?” Stepping aside, I proudly introduced, “This is Gareth Kirby, my boyfriend.” The word ‘boyfriend’ made everyone’s eyes widen in surprise. Gareth flashed his dazzling smile, showing off two cute dimples: “Good evening, everyone. I’m honored to be here with you tonight.” Gareth is incredibly handsome, and his smile had an explosive effect. The ladies were openly staring. One girl with long black hair exclaimed, “Wow, Sue, your boyfriend is too gorgeous!” The others quickly followed: “He’s unfairly handsome! Is Gareth a model or an actor?” Before I could answer, Gareth chimed in sweetly, “Thank you for the compliment, but you’re all very beautiful too. Just call me Gareth.” Not only is he good-looking, but he’s also charming. The crowd that was waiting to mock me had their focus entirely captured by Gareth. Even Evelyn couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. Kai’s face darkened, and he said sternly: “Let’s all sit down and chat. No need to stand around.”

As Kai spoke, the chatter died down. The waiter added an extra seat, and Gareth and I sat closely together. Once seated, I began introducing Gareth to everyone at the table. Tonight was supposed to revolve around me, but everyone was now completely fixated on Gareth. Gareth had been studying in France since middle school. He’s naturally outgoing and sociable, so I wasn’t worried about him being out of place. The girl with the long straight hair teased me, “Sue, you really kept this one under wraps, didn’t you? Secretly got yourself a new boyfriend.” Her words carried a bit of edge, and I saw some people’s eyes dart between me, Kai, and Evelyn with curiosity. I smiled softly and said, “Well, life is all about moving forward, isn’t it?” Over on the other side, Evelyn shyly leaned closer to Kai. “What’s wrong?” Kai asked, genuinely concerned. “Just a bit tired from filming a late-night scene last night…” Evelyn said, trying to muster a smile, “I’ll be fine. I’ll just take a nap in the car later.” Kai’s concern was palpable, “Eat something and I’ll take you home to rest.” He urged everyone, “Let’s order some food.” Someone teased, “Mr. Dawson is such a doting boyfriend.” “With a girlfriend as beautiful as Evelyn, who wouldn’t be?” Evelyn bashfully hid her face in Kai’s shoulder, “Stop teasing me…” I could feel some probing eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. Inside, a mix of bitterness and sadness churned, but I didn’t let it show. It stung to see my longtime boyfriend with someone who was essentially my replacement, flaunting their affection right in front of me. The feeling of being outdone by a knockoff version was humiliating. “Doting boyfriend? Really?” I thought to myself. The deep affection he once showed me could transfer so easily to someone else. I couldn’t tell if that was my tragedy or his. Finn politely offered me the menu, spinning it on the lazy Susan toward me. Trying to keep my composure, I said graciously, “I’m not familiar with this restaurant. Why don’t you all order what you like? This meal is on me, so go ahead and pick anything.” Kai replied indifferently, “This place is members-only. I’ll cover it through my membership.” I smiled politely, “Thank you, Mr. Dawson. Let’s have me host next time.” Gareth, without hesitation, picked up the menu and whispered in my ear, “Sue, what’s this chicken dish with sea cucumber?” “It’s a beauty-boosting dish. Want to try it?” “I’d like to.” He kept pointing out dishes and asking me about them, and I patiently explained everything I knew. Our heads were so close together it was almost like we were whispering secrets. The long-haired girl couldn’t help but ask, “Gareth, are you younger than Sue?” Without hesitation, I answered, “Yes, Gareth is six months younger than me.” The ladies chimed in with enthusiastic comments: “A younger boyfriend, how intriguing!” “Young and full of energy!” I overheard Kai’s friends whispering in Glaswegian dialect, perhaps thinking Gareth wouldn’t understand them: “A pretty boy hired to play the part?” “Must be, just to annoy Kai…” “I thought she had moved on. He’s just a kept man.” “Pride can be a heavy burden.” Disrespectful, regardless of whether it was true. Kai likely heard them, too. His lips curled into a mocking smile as he glanced at Gareth with disdain. Evelyn softly asked, “Kai, do you like younger women too?” Kai’s response was thinly-veiled disdain, “No. I’m a bit old-fashioned; I need a woman younger than me.” Clearly a jab at me, but I bit my tongue, forcing myself not to react. Gareth, oblivious or simply unbothered, kept browsing the menu. He saw a sea cucumber soup and said to one of the whispering guys, “Dougie, how about I order you some sea cucumber soup?” Dougie, trying to be polite, replied, “No, thank you, that’s too much…” Gareth smiled sweetly, “You’ve got dark circles and grey around your lips. Might be kidney issues. Sea cucumber is quite nourishing.” No man wants to hear that, and Dougie’s face turned several shades at once. He rushed to deny it, “I don’t have kidney issues!” Gareth, with unflinching innocence, said, “Your dull, oily skin and red nose suggest hormonal imbalance. You should see a specialist.”

Poor Dougie looked like he was about to explode from embarrassment, unable to come up with a retort. I playfully scolded Gareth, “Gareth, Dougie’s girlfriend would know if he had such issues. No need for you to worry.” Dougie’s girlfriend, caught in the awkwardness, took a sip of water. Gareth quickly apologized, “Sorry, Dougie, I didn’t mean to be so blunt. I know you won’t take it to heart, right?” What could Dougie say? He could only stew in his own frustration. The long-haired girl, enjoying the drama, asked, “Gareth, can you diagnose us too?” “I wouldn’t say diagnose. My grandpa’s an internist, so I picked up a bit here and there,” Gareth downplayed his knowledge, then dropped another bomb on the second whisperer, “Mr. Newman, your sparse facial hair but thick head hair is typical of someone wearing a wig.” Newman had long dealt with premature balding, always hiding it with a wig—it wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t talked about either. A few people couldn’t hold back their laughter. Newman’s smile disappeared, his tone becoming hostile, “What’s your point?” Gareth feigned surprise, “Oh? Did I say something wrong? I thought it was a wig. It’s so realistic; I was going to recommend it to my uncle. My bad. It’s real hair?” Newman, who hated any mention of his wig, almost lost it. He was about to lash out when I softly reiterated in dialect, “Pride can be a heavy burden.” Newman swallowed his retort, simmering in anger. Gareth, all innocence, asked, “Sue, what did you just say?” I smiled, “Nothing, let’s order.” Food finally arrived, and Gareth and I played the perfect hosts, urging everyone to dig in. Evelyn tenderly peeled shrimp for Kai, and Gareth cut my steak. They flaunted their affection, and we flaunted ours. Everything seemed fine until one troublemaker couldn’t keep his mouth shut. A guy with glasses said snidely, “It’s a new world where men are doing women’s work now, huh?” He then praised Kai, “Kai made the right call, choosing a gentle, traditionally-minded girl.” But before Kai could respond, the long-haired girl scoffed, “So, are you looking for a girlfriend or a maid?” Another short-haired woman chimed in, “Do you think women exist to serve you?” I smiled softly, “It’s not the Victorian era anymore.” That guy quickly became the enemy of all the women at the table. Trying to salvage his standing, he backpedaled. “Just joking. No need to be so sensitive.” Gareth, with a big grin, added, “In my family, it’s normal for men to take care of women. My mom never has to peel shrimp; my dad always does it for her. Now, even in her fifties, her hands are still soft and pretty.” Gareth peeled a shrimp in a few swift motions, removing the vein and placing it in my bowl. I smiled and thanked him. The long-haired girl chimed in, “Gareth and his dad are the real doting men here. Actions over words any day.” Kai’s face showed a hint of discomfort, and even Evelyn looked awkwardly at their half-eaten shrimp. The meal turned out to be more comfortable than I’d anticipated. Watching my ex with his new girlfriend wasn’t as painful as I’d feared. On the way back, I gazed pensively out at the night. Gareth tried to lighten the mood, “Sue, did I do alright today?”

I laughed softly, “You did amazingly well, even better than I thought you would.” “Of course! How could I let you down?” Gareth replied confidently. “By the way, do you actually understand that Glaswegian dialect?” I asked, clearing up a nagging question in my mind. “Yup,” Gareth said, puffing out his chest with pride, “I know four languages and fifteen dialects.” He started listing off, almost like showing off a treasure, “Scottish, Irish, Gaelic… I know them all.” I sighed, “You’re really something else. Being an actor is actually an understatement.” “Nah, it’s not easy being an actor either,” Gareth replied humbly. He was also an artist signed to my company. We were college mates; I studied economics, and he went to the art school. Gareth, tall and handsome with an extroverted personality, loved performing. He had experience in theater and was pretty popular on social media, making him a minor celebrity abroad. Several talent agencies had tried to sign him, and he was keen on breaking into the domestic entertainment industry. Hearing my family’s business was a film investment company, Gareth approached me. My company rarely signed new talent, preferring seasoned actors from prestigious acting schools. Despite his impressive resume, Gareth was still considered a rookie. But I needed a good-looking and talented actor to deal with Kai and the gang upon my return, so we struck a deal. Gareth said sweetly, “If you ever need me to act again, just let me know.” “Thanks, but you should focus on your career,” I replied, putting on a serious face. “I treat you the same as any other employee. I hope you earn your place at the company through your own merit.” “Yes, ma’am!” Gareth gave me a playful salute. Once home, freshly showered and ready for bed, my best friend Lily sent me a voice message: “Hey, I heard you brought a new boyfriend?! When did that happen?” I could practically see her eyes shining with gossip through the phone. I gave her a rundown of what happened. Lily chuckled, “So, you hired an actor? That’s smart. He’s handsome and charming. Who knows, maybe sparks will fly for real.” I sighed, “I don’t mix work with personal life. It’s just messy.” “True, power dynamics can get weird. But are you sure he doesn’t have other motives?” Lily interrupted herself, “Susan told me your ‘boyfriend’ roasted Kai’s friends to a crisp! Too bad I missed it!” Susan was the long-haired girl from dinner. “He’s quick-witted and has a sharp tongue…” I was saying when a friend request popped up on my phone: Evelyn. Kai’s new girlfriend wanted to add me? I was puzzled. She must’ve gotten my contact from Finn. After a few seconds of thought, I accepted. Back in the chat, Lily asked, “Still there?” “Yeah, Evelyn just added me.” “😲 What’s she want?” “No idea, maybe she has something to say?” “Drama queen.” Evelyn soon sent a greeting, to which I politely responded with a smiley emoji. Then she sent a video. In the dim light, I could see a shirtless Kai, snoring and sprawled on a pillow, with someone’s bare arm in the shot. Disgust hit me like a wave, making me feel sick. Evelyn texted: “Kai’s snoring is so loud. Was he always like this? He won’t sleep without hugging me; it gets so hot and sticky…”

Lily wasn’t wrong; Evelyn was a drama queen. Unsure how to respond, I exited the chat. Out of sight, out of mind. Lily was still curious, “Why did she add you? Did she say anything?” I sent her the video and our chat. Lily exploded, sending a barrage of memes: “Is she insane?” “I’ve never seen anyone so shameless!” “Evelyn’s crazy!” I replied, “I think I’ll just delete her.” “Don’t! She’ll think she scared you off. Keep her around. Let’s see what other stunts she tries to pull.” “Okay, I’m off to bed. You should rest too.” “You can sleep after that? That girl’s nuts! Kai’s a fool for cheating on you for her.” “Seeing them together today, I was sad. But now, I feel relieved. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Thanks to Evelyn, I see Kai clearly now.” Lily said, “You’re so chill. I’d be cussing both of them out!” I sent her a meme saying “I’m eerily calm right now.” “Don’t waste your energy on people who don’t deserve it,” I advised. Evelyn didn’t provoke me again, though she often posted lovey-dovey pictures of her and Kai in her Moments, all of which were only visible to me. Realizing this, I decided to block her. Back to Gareth, he officially joined my company as a signed actor. The company planned to film a spy drama “Misty Mist,” and I secured a role for Gareth as the third male lead. He was thrilled. “Sue, I’ve read the script. My part isn’t huge, but it’s a powerful role.” I encouraged him, “Do well, and you can aim for movies. Your career could skyrocket.” Most lead roles were taken by acclaimed actors, promising mutual success for the film. But a month before shooting, the female lead was replaced by none other than Evelyn. As a producer, I was the last to know. The investor’s representative apologetically explained, “Mr. Dawson insisted Evelyn play the role. He really wants her in this project. We hope you’ll understand.” With financial backing from Kai’s company, I had little choice. Complaining would be futile. I felt disheartened but professional, “Tell Mr. Dawson that any breach of contract fees must also be covered.” The rep readily agreed, “Of course, Mr. Dawson will handle all costs.” So, it was settled. With the closed training and filming schedule, Gareth would be in the crew for nearly half a year. I was increasingly busy and rarely had time to check in with him. Two months into filming, Gareth messaged me, “Sue, can you come visit me on set?”

I replied cheerfully, “I’d been planning to come visit you all anyway. See you in a few days.” Gareth was over the moon, his excitement so evident as he said, “Really? That’s awesome! I can’t wait!” I knew why he wanted me to come. Apparently, Kai had recently visited Evelyn on set. I chuckled, “Whatever other kids get, you’ll get too.” “Thanks, Sue!” As the weather turned colder, I made sure to bring hot drinks for the entire crew when I visited the set. Gareth was still in costume from his scene, wearing a perfectly tailored 1930s military uniform that made him look dashing and charismatic. Seeing me, Gareth lit up like a lost puppy reunited with his owner, practically wagging his tail. I patted his head and then his shoulder. Though Gareth was only six months younger than me, our dynamic often felt like… well, parent and child? Owner and pet? Today, some media were also on set for interviews. After gulping down his hot coffee, Gareth was pulled aside by the director for a press interview. He and Evelyn sat together on camera, mics in hand. After some standard questions, the reporter targeted Gareth: “As newcomers, what do you two think of each other’s performances?” Evelyn turned on her performance mode and said with exaggerated sweetness, “Gareth is great with everyone; he’s charming and always knows how to make people smile. Everyone adores him. Our producer even came today just to see him. I’ve heard Gareth was a personal recommendation by our producer, and they’re college mates. I’m sure he has qualities that really stand out, which is why the producer took special interest in him.” Evelyn was just a step away from saying Gareth got his role by cozying up to the boss. It’s true I was promoting Gareth, but he had the talent to back it up. And let’s not forget Evelyn was only here because Kai paid big bucks to get her in. Pot calling the kettle black! The reporter chuckled awkwardly and turned to Gareth, “Gareth, what do you think of Evelyn?” Gareth flashed an impish grin, “I admire Evelyn a lot. She’s come up with a brilliant way to remember her lines. She gets her assistant to write them all on big cue cards and reads off them during scenes. It’s genius! Saves so much time on memorizing. Why didn’t I think of that? Gosh, I’m really slow!” His words dripped with sarcasm, leaving Evelyn fuming and forcing a smile. The awkward tension was palpable, with some crew members stifling laughter. Evelyn forced a laugh, “That’s not true… I only use the cards as a backup. I don’t really look at them during takes…” Gareth didn’t let up, “Oh, I’m just bad at memorizing, so I use my meal breaks to study my lines. Not like Evelyn, who’s both beautiful and clever. She spends her breaks video chatting with her boyfriend. So sweet and enviable…” Gareth pretended to be shocked, covering his mouth, “Wait, was I not supposed to say that? Can we cut that part out?” Evelyn’s face turned green, her eyes rolling in exasperation. The reporter quickly changed the subject, trying to steer the interview back on track. Media folks know better than to air dirty laundry that tarnishes everyone involved. Sometimes, it takes a real jerk to beat another jerk at their own game. Internally, I rated Evelyn: “Prideful but clueless, daring to mess with Gareth—good luck!” In the entertainment industry, actors pulling each other’s hair in private isn’t unheard of. Companies usually don’t step in unless things get out of hand. But some folks just can’t let things go. Not long after, I attended a business event with my brother and ran into Kai. Pulling me aside, he got straight to the point: “You need to consider enrolling your little boyfriend in manners classes, teach him some etiquette.”

His snide tone made it clear Evelyn had complained to him, and Kai was here to defend his precious girl. I crossed my arms, unbothered, “Mr. Dawson, if you have something to say, say it straight. Where did you pick up this passive-aggressive attitude?” Kai looked a bit embarrassed but quickly regained his composure, “Evelyn truly loves this project. I helped her secure the main role because of that. Since you agreed to let her participate, don’t make things difficult for her. I always considered you a reasonable person. Don’t ruin that impression.” I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. For heaven’s sake, who’s making things difficult? I had better things to do. And it was Evelyn who started it, Gareth merely retaliated. But expecting Kai to be objective was wishful thinking. Defending your girl is natural. Seeing my silence, Kai continued, “I know seeing Evelyn and me together hurts you… I was wrong. I’ll make it up to you in other ways. But don’t take it out on Evelyn; she knows nothing. It’s me you should be mad at.” This sounded too much like those dramatic TV clichés, and I couldn’t stand it. Cutting him off, I fired back, “Mr. Dawson, we are long over. I have no lingering feelings for you. And I’ve never targeted your girlfriend. She added me as a friend, sent me your sleeping videos. I have no interest in your playtime preferences. I just care about my company.” “Evelyn… couldn’t have,” Kai looked genuinely confused, unable to believe his sweet girlfriend could be so petty. I pulled up my chat logs with Evelyn as proof. Seeing the evidence, Kai was dumbstruck. I continued, “Invest in a few acting classes for your girlfriend. As an actress, she should focus on honing her skills. Viewers can tell when actors aren’t putting in the effort. If you can’t bear to see her struggle, marry her and pamper her at home. Don’t rob hardworking people of their roles.” Ignoring Kai’s pale face, I walked away. A month later, “Misty Mist” wrapped filming. The distribution company was pleased and planned to release it during the lucrative New Year’s season. I also heard that Kai had arranged for Evelyn to get a Best Actress award. Since my family financed the film, I didn’t mind Kai adding some shine to it. Gareth’s manager suggested, “Let’s have Gareth contend for the Best Newcomer award too.” “Sure,” I agreed, “but let’s do it on merit. No buying votes.” “Got it. Even a nomination would be great for him at this point.” Believing that “character is fated to follow talent,” I was determined to guide Gareth on a steady career path. Shortly after, director Daniel Williams, an influential figure in international cinema, got impressed by Gareth through word of mouth. Known for resisting financial influence, Daniel auditioned Gareth, who landed a small part in one of his films. Even a minor role in a Daniel Williams film is an honor. While Gareth continued progressing steadily, Evelyn’s team bragged about only taking leading roles in major productions. Her next gig was in an S+ fantasy historical drama, supported by a slew of popular stars Kai paid for. When the cast was announced, Twitter blew up, labeling Evelyn a talentless resource hog. Kai had his PR team manage the backlash quickly, preventing it from escalating. Lily joked, “Evelyn lands the female lead while your Gareth plays a bit part. You’re tough on boys but spoil girls. You and Kai think alike in that way.” “”Actually, this part is perfect for Gareth. A good role, even a small one, can make a big impact,” I explained. “I prefer steady, genuine growth over artificial boosts.” Lily fully agreed, “You’re right; forced fame brings bad luck. Don’t take on a job you’re not ready for.” Little did I know, Lily’s words would come true…

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During our romantic getaway, my husband Jack impulsively recorded a 15-second intimate video of us. He meant to send it to me but accidentally posted it in our neighborhood SnapChat group instead. He frantically deleted it within 30 seconds. Little did we know, the neighbor’s kid had saved it. The boy curiously asked me: “Auntie, who’s that pretty lady Uncle Jack was hugging in bed?” For our first month of marriage, Jack and I both took annual paid leave and decided to fly to the Maldives for a romantic getaway. The crystal-clear waters of the Maldives were breathtaking. I went for a swim in my black bikini, my curves accentuated by the shimmering waves. “Babe, you look so hot,” Jack said with a grin, capturing the moment with his camera. Photography was Jack’s biggest hobby. He’d taken countless stunning photos of me since we started dating. That evening, after an exhilarating beach bonfire party, we retired to our $5,000-a-night luxury resort suite. We figured we should indulge since this was a once-in-a-lifetime trip. After showering, Jack eagerly embraced me from behind, whispering my name over and over. “Lena, I love you, I’ll love you forever… Will you call out my name like that when we make love?” I blushed and turned away. “You’re so shameless! What if someone hears us?” “Don’t worry, this fancy resort has top-notch soundproofing. You can be as loud as you want.” As we bantered, Jack got more excited and suggested recording a short video to commemorate the moment. If this had happened when we were just dating, I would have firmly refused. But now that we were married, I figured I could indulge my husband’s little fantasy. It was just a 15-second clip. After filming, he praised how “fair-skinned” I looked and said he’d send it to me. I checked my phone. “I didn’t receive anything. Did you forget to send it?” Jack quickly checked and slapped his forehead. “Crap, I posted it in the neighborhood group chat!” He hurriedly deleted it within 30 seconds. I panicked too. It would be mortifying if others saw such private footage. But a few people in the group had already seen it and teasingly commented on how pretty the woman looked. Seeing my anger, Jack hastily said, “Don’t worry, I only filmed your face and back. Nothing inappropriate was shown.” I blushed furiously. “They’ve all seen me before. Why are they suddenly calling me pretty?” “Maybe it’s because you’re glowing with happiness today, darling. Your inner beauty is shining through, so they naturally find you radiant.” “Smooth talker!” Even though he deleted it quickly, the incident still left me feeling uneasy. It dampened my mood for the last few days of our trip. Then one afternoon, I was taking a walk alone in our neighborhood when the 7-year-old boy from next door suddenly approached me with his phone. “Auntie! Auntie!” Since we were neighbors who often ran into each other, I thought he wanted to play. I bent down and asked what was wrong. To my surprise, the little boy pulled up a video and said he had saved it when Uncle Jack posted it in the group chat. “Auntie, who’s that pretty lady Uncle Jack was hugging in bed?” The woman’s face wasn’t clearly visible in the video, but it definitely wasn’t me. There was just a glimpse of parted red lips in profile. Her figure fit the slim Asian beauty standard perfectly. She was on all fours on the bed. Any adult could guess what was happening from that angle. And from the room layout, it was clearly the same resort we stayed at for our getaway! I frowned deeply. No wonder he chose the wrong video, given the similar angles. Could it be that Jack was having an affair with another woman during our romantic trip?

The small mole on the man’s abdomen confirmed it was indeed my husband. My husband cheating in the first month of marriage… Could anyone be more unlucky than me? I saved the video and deleted it from the boy’s phone, then bought him a lollipop. “The uncle and auntie in the video were just playing a game. Kids shouldn’t ask about these things. Don’t play with your mom’s phone so much in the future, okay?” The little boy skipped away happily. My smile froze as rage boiled inside me, feeling both humiliated and shocked. Jack had married into my family. Even the marital home with both our names was bought by my family… How dare he be so bold as to cheat on me? I stared at the woman in the video. She had a petite figure and fair skin in profile, looking quite young. I’d met all of Jack’s female colleagues and friends. This was clearly an unfamiliar face. I suspected she might be a hookup he found during the trip, but I wasn’t sure. After all, we were married now, and it would be hard to undo. If I rushed to divorce without solid evidence, I’d be at a disadvantage when dividing assets! Filled with resentment, I went to see my friend Mia who works in the beauty industry and showed her the video. She was shocked. “No way, weren’t you two on your honeymoon? He hooked up with another woman?” I fumed, “I know, right? This scumbag acts like such a loyal puppy in front of me, but he’s up to these tricks behind my back.” Mia pondered for a moment, then suddenly pointed at the video and said: “This woman used prosthetic makeup techniques. It’s not her real appearance.” As someone in the beauty industry, my friend easily spotted that the woman’s nose was sculpted with special effects clay. She even pointed out the details to me. I laughed bitterly. These days, women even use fake faces to cheat? How interesting. “Lena, don’t overthink it. That homewrecker will slip up eventually. You’re rich and beautiful anyway, ditching this scumbag won’t affect you much,” Mia reassured me solemnly. However, how could a bad marriage have no impact? Moreover, if I got divorced right after getting married, friends and family would surely mock me behind my back. I absolutely couldn’t let Jack get away scot-free. I had to catch solid evidence of his affair. To avoid alerting him, I acted normal when my husband came home that night, though I was already plotting how to investigate him. Unfortunately, before marriage we had agreed not to check each other’s phones to maintain trust and privacy, so I didn’t know his phone password. Before bed, I refused his advances. Jack was quite surprised. “Babe, we just got married and you’re already losing interest? Come on, look at other couples.” I made an excuse about being tired and said I wanted to turn off the lights and sleep. But my gaze was drawn to some racy videos on my husband’s phone screen. They were a series of voyeuristic short clips, all from a male point-of-view angle. The women in the videos were posed like puppets in various positions. Jack chuckled awkwardly. “This is from my buddy. Can you believe his lack of class, filming his own wife and sending it around? He’s sent me quite a few.” I couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Which buddy?” “My high school classmate Ryan. You met him at that small gathering before.” I seized the opportunity to ask to see his phone. Jack handed it over without hesitation. Sure enough, in his chat history with Ryan, there were several videos of Ryan’s wife. Although no private parts were exposed, it was still disgusting to film and share intimate videos. It was clear this couple enjoyed roleplaying, as the woman had different makeup and outfits each time. Could my husband’s affair partner be her? My suspicions grew, so I asked Jack to introduce me to his friend’s wife. To my surprise, my husband agreed readily. “Sure, it’s been a while since I’ve had dinner with Ryan anyway. I’ll set something up tomorrow so you can meet them.” At the barbecue dinner, I met Ryan’s wife for the first time. Her name was Lily. Though her features weren’t stunning, she had fair skin and ample cleavage peeking out from her camisole dress. “Nice to meet you, sister-in-law,” she greeted me shyly, blushing charmingly. I learned that she worked at the same beauty salon as my friend Mia. “Do you know Mia?” I asked. She shook her head in confusion. “I’m a beautician too, but I’ve only been working there for a month. I don’t know that sister yet.” Hearing she was a beautician, my heart skipped a beat as I recalled my friend mentioning “prosthetic makeup techniques”. So Lily also knew how to do special effects makeup and disguises… Could it be that Lily, seeking thrills but afraid of exposure, had disguised herself to hook up with my husband? I was startled by this bold idea, instantly imagining all sorts of scandalous scenarios. My face burned. I even thought of the comments under popular makeup transformation videos: “I really want to marry a makeup artist! Marrying her would be like marrying all the female celebrities in the entertainment industry.” “Getting this woman would be like having a whole harem!” Lost in wild speculation, Lily waved her hand in front of my eyes. “Sister, are you feeling unwell? Your face looks terrible.” I gave her a meaningful look and shook my head. “It’s nothing, probably just the barbecue smoke.” She quickly handed me a tissue to wipe my sweat, smiling when she saw my hands. “Sister, your hands are so beautiful, just like you. Wealth really shows, doesn’t it?” Only then did I notice how rough Lily’s hands were, quite at odds with her sweet appearance. They were clearly the hands of someone used to hard work. After some conversation, I learned that both Lily and Ryan came from poor rural backgrounds. She was a beautician and he was a manual laborer. The couple was struggling to make ends meet in the city, with no hope of affording a home anytime soon. I started to have doubts. Looking at her innocent demeanor, she probably didn’t even know her husband was sharing her videos around. Could such a naive girl really be a homewrecker who enjoys destroying other people’s marriages? To find out who that woman really was, I had an idea. If she was willing to follow me and my husband to our honeymoon resort, she must also be interested in other high-end hotels. I immediately booked a night at a new Japanese-style hot spring resort in the suburbs and sweetly said to Jack: “Honey, I didn’t get enough of our romantic getaway. This weekend, can we go soak in the hot springs?” Jack smiled. “Whatever makes you happy.” Looking at my husband’s gentle smile, I felt incredibly mocked. When it came to putting on an act, cheaters really were the best. On Saturday, we arrived as planned. This famous hot spring resort lived up to its reputation. The warm mist and blooming flowers created a perfect relaxing atmosphere that few women could resist. When we got to the hot spring, I pretended to take an urgent call and came back looking flustered. “Honey, something came up at work that I need to handle. I won’t be able to enjoy the hot spring today.” He asked with concern, “What’s wrong? Do you want me to drive you there?” I shook my head. “It’s fine, just some project issues my assistant can’t handle alone. I’ll have to work overtime today and sleep at the office. Why don’t you stay and enjoy the hot spring? No need to waste it.” Jack nodded reluctantly. “Alright babe, be safe.” I pretended to leave, but actually changed into different clothes and snuck back in. After anxiously waiting for about 15 minutes, the fish took the bait. A woman in an indigo wave-patterned kimono appeared hand-in-hand with Jack at the front desk, queuing to get their number. The woman’s kimono was loosely tied, revealing glimpses of her chest underneath. That fleeting side profile… was almost identical to the one I saw in the video! They took their number and disappeared into the crowd. In the hallway, I looked around cautiously and finally found our reserved room. I tiptoed towards the door. One step, two steps, three steps. The sliding door was pushed open a crack, warm yellow light seeping through. In the private hot spring, water splashed as Jack’s hands tightly gripped the woman’s slender waist, kissing her lips nonstop. The woman tilted her head back, enjoying his kisses while singing shamelessly like a siren. My heart sank. Because that familiar voice and petite figure were all too recognizable to me… Jack suddenly scolded her in a low voice, barely concealing his excitement. “Louder! You little minx.” 4 My friend Mia had studied music, and this was her favorite love song that she often hummed around me. My heart felt like it had been viciously torn to shreds, overwhelmed with pain. I never imagined that the two people closest to me would end up betraying me! Mia’s usually sallow face now looked as fair and delicate as jade, seemingly a decade younger. She giggled coquettishly: “Aren’t you afraid your wife will suddenly come back and catch us?” My husband possessively tightened his grip on her slim waist. “Not at all. She’s gone back to the office. It’s over 60 miles from here to downtown. She definitely won’t be back tonight.” Mia laughed softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I specially did the prosthetic makeup your wife has seen before. How’s that? Exciting enough?” Jack pinched her nose. “Don’t remind me of that. Last time we almost got caught. Good thing I was smart enough to use my buddy’s videos as a cover.” She stuck out her tongue and quoted her favorite TV show line: “If we’re going for thrills, might as well go all out.” They looked at each other and burst into unrestrained laughter. Talk about staying in character. I gritted my teeth and continued listening to see what other schemes this pair of dogs had in store for me. “You promised to divorce her right after the wedding… Then marry me. Have you forgotten?” “Baby, don’t rush. I’m just afraid divorcing too quickly would raise suspicions. Besides, my father-in-law promised to help with my promotion. That’s not settled yet.” Jack earnestly explained. As for why he liked the plain-looking Mia, he gave the answer himself. He said he liked that she could do all kinds of makeup transformations, giving him a fresh experience every time. Jack complained, “Baby, you’re so considerate. Unlike that Lena, always with the same boring look. She never makes a sound in bed either. I’m so sick of it.” “If it weren’t for her family background, I wouldn’t have deliberately pursued her. Marrying that dull woman would be such a waste of my life.” … I rubbed my temples and laughed bitterly. All the love and tenderness had just been an elaborate scam! Since I had booked the room, I could use the app to order water or herbal baths. In my fury, I decided to “spice up” their passionate encounter. I activated the automatic hot water feature, selecting 140°F water from the overhead shower. This temperature wouldn’t kill them, but it would certainly make for a “steamy” night. While they were passionately kissing and lost in the heat of the moment, scalding hot water poured over them from head to toe. Their amorous sounds abruptly ceased. “Ahh!” “F*ck! Where did this hot water come from? It’s burning me alive!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294597”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn

In the open kitchen, Hector stood right behind me, trapping me against the counter. One hand slipped toward my apron, while the other casually grabbed a blueberry and pushed it toward my mouth. My face flushed. He smirked, his voice full of teasing. “Sis, you’ve got quite the bite.” From the dining area across the room, Mommy Jenny turned her head and looked at me, confused. “Jenny, are you cold? Why are you shivering?” I never thought that the person I had a crush on for three years would end up becoming my stepbrother. The day I moved into the Gayle family’s house with my mom, I stood by the front door, completely drenched, water dripping from my hair and clothes. Hector slowly strolled up with an empty bucket in his hand, his eyes scanning me up and down with a wicked smile. “Oops, my bad, slipped.” He paused for a second, his tone mocking. “But with how little you’re wearing, maybe you wanted to cool off anyway.” I looked down at my soaked white shirt, realizing you could faintly see my bra through the fabric. Panicked, I quickly covered myself with my arms. Hector’s grin widened, even more shameless. He definitely saw everything! The thought sent a wave of heat rushing to my face. “Hector!” Samuel rushed over. A jacket with a light scent of soap fell on my shoulders, and Samuel stood protectively in front of me. “Jenny, go change your clothes. I’ll deal with him in a bit.” I was ushered into the downstairs bathroom, my heart still racing. It was my first time seeing Hector since I’d developed feelings for him years ago. He was just as handsome as before, if not more. But he clearly wasn’t happy to see me. I guess I couldn’t blame him. After all, my mom did disrupt his family. Bam bam bam! A loud knock on the door made me jump back several steps, startled. “Hector?” I muttered nervously as his voice came from the other side. “Brought you some clothes.” My heart, which had just started to calm down, went wild again. I stared at myself in the mirror—drenched, disheveled—and didn’t dare open the door. But Hector wasn’t giving up. He started twisting the doorknob, only to find it locked. “Open the door, or I’ll kick it down.” I knew he meant it. When Hector made a threat, he always followed through. Scanning the room in a panic, I grabbed a towel and draped it over myself. By the time he reached the count of three, I rushed to the door and swung it open. Hector leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, holding my clothes over his elbow. He was tall, and with a slight tilt of his head, he looked down at me. His sharp features stood out—perfect eyebrows, a strong nose with a small mole on its tip. His eyes flicked down to my chest, and his lips curled into a sneer. “What’s the point of covering up? Didn’t you want to show it off?” “It’s not like that,” I whispered defensively, the hurt in my voice bubbling to the surface. I never wanted to show off to anyone. “Jenny, stop pretending. Your mom’s a homewrecker, and you’re just a little temptress. She seduced my dad, and now you’re here trying to seduce my brother.” His brow furrowed in irritation. “Take off my brother’s jacket!” I froze. If I took it off, he’d see everything. But if I didn’t, he’d get mad. “Take it off,” he repeated. I clutched the towel tighter, my eyes shifting to the clothes he held. “Give me the dry clothes first.” Hector lifted the bundle of clothes slightly, just out of reach. I reached for them, but he jerked them back. “Want them? Beg me,” he said, tilting his head with a sly grin. “Just give them to me!” I lunged for the clothes. Hector quickly raised them higher. No matter how much I jumped, I couldn’t reach. How tall was he, exactly?! I tried again, putting even more effort into the jump, but just as I reached for them, I lost my balance, falling forward, and crashed right into Hector’s chest. “Tsk.” I heard him chuckle. “What, you trying to pull the same tricks as your mom? Think you can seduce me?” Hector’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Suddenly aware of my position, I realized my whole body was pressed up against him, my upper half especially. And worse, the towel I’d draped around myself was slipping, barely covering anything. I quickly pulled the towel back around me and turned away, hiding my face in shame. “What’s the matter? Not going to keep going?” Hector mocked, his voice cold. “You’ll never seduce my brother with tricks like that.” I wasn’t trying to seduce anyone. But no matter what I said now, Hector wouldn’t believe me. Tears welled up in my eyes, my heart aching with the weight of his misunderstanding. I knew Hector hated me, and hated my mom too. His mom had just passed away when we moved in, and my mom had taken her place. Of course he hated me. I understood that. But I couldn’t stand being so unfairly accused. “Hector!” Samuel’s voice cut through the tension. “What the hell are you doing? Standing outside a girl’s bathroom? What kind of manners are those?” “Why are you always on her side, bro?” “Jenny’s new here, you should be looking out for her. And by the way, she’s older than you, so show some respect. Hand her the clothes.” Hector shot me a glare but finally tossed the clothes to me, gritting his teeth. “Here you go, sis. Make sure you take care of them.” Samuel sighed, turning to me apologetically. “Sorry, Jenny. He’s always been a bit of a jerk. Go ahead and get changed.” I took the clothes, whispering a quiet “thank you” before closing the door. Once they were gone, I sat in the bathroom, clutching the dry clothes in my arms. Tears streamed down my face. I’d had a crush on Hector for three years, only to end up his step-sister and the target of his resentment.

After I changed into fresh clothes, Samuel mentioned that the whole family would be having dinner together later. Before moving in with the Gayles, I already knew Samuel. He was my teacher’s top student, and apparently, this connection mattered now. True to his responsible nature, he made sure to take care of me, just like my teacher had told him to. At the dinner table, my mom couldn’t keep her eyes off Mr. Gayle, as if she’d forgotten I even existed. I didn’t want to attract attention either, so I ate in silence. But of course, Mr. Gayle couldn’t resist bringing me up. “I hear Jenny’s in the same school as Samuel, what a small world,” he said, nodding approvingly at me. “If you need anything, just ask Samuel. He’s reliable.” “I will, Mr. Gayle,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Mr. Gayle beamed, “Such a sweet girl.” No sooner had he said that than Hector made a scoffing noise, stabbing his chopsticks into his bowl. “What an act.” Mr. Gayle’s face darkened immediately. “Hector, show some respect.” Samuel gave him a warning look too. “Jenny just moved in. She’s a girl, and you should be looking after her.” I braced myself for Hector to argue, but instead, he said with a smirk, “Fine, I’ll make sure to take real good care of her from now on. Build some family bonding time.” He turned to me with a smile that made my skin crawl. Though he behaved the rest of dinner, I could feel the tension simmering underneath. Afterwards, I quickly excused myself and went back to my room. While I was unpacking, someone knocked at the door. I figured it was probably my mom, so I opened it without thinking. But when I looked up, I saw Hector standing there. I froze for a moment before instinctively trying to shut the door, but Hector wedged his foot between it and the frame. “You—” I started. Before I could finish, he forced his way inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Bang. He shut the door behind him, crossing his arms as he casually leaned against it. “What… what are you doing?” I backed away instinctively, putting as much distance between us as possible. Hector’s eyes roamed the room before they landed back on me. “Do you like my brother?” What? Where did that come from? I quickly shook my head. “Really?” Hector tilted his head. “Isn’t that why you moved in here? To get close to him?” “I didn’t,” I denied, but he wasn’t listening. He stepped closer, looking down at me. His height made it impossible to escape his gaze. “Then why’d you move in? Your mom said you weren’t too keen on the idea.” My stomach churned. There was no way I could tell him the truth — that the only reason I moved in was because I found out he’d come back home. I stayed silent, and Hector took my lack of response as an admission. His eyes narrowed. “So it’s true. Little temptress, trying to seduce my brother, huh?” I clenched my fists, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’re wrong. Now please leave.” Hector scowled, leaning in even closer. “Stop playing games with me, Jenny. Don’t you dare try to seduce him.” I bit my lip, helpless, unable to explain myself. Before Hector could say anything else, there was another knock at the door. It was Samuel’s voice on the other side. “Jenny, it’s me, Samuel. Do you have a minute?” Just as I was about to answer, Hector’s hand shot out, covering my mouth. My eyes widened in shock as I tried to pull his hand away, but his grip was firm. He leaned in, pressing me against the door, and whispered, “Shh. Don’t make a sound.” My heart raced as panic set in. Hector was so close, his warm breath against my cheek. I struggled, trying to push him away, but it only made him grin. “Jenny?” Samuel called again, sounding concerned. I tried to squirm free, but Hector held me even tighter. And then, to my utter disbelief, he kissed me. My brain short-circuited. Hector was kissing me. On the other side of the door, Samuel was waiting for a response while I was trapped, locked in a kiss with his brother. The realization made my blood rush to my face. I pushed at Hector’s chest, but he only deepened the kiss, his free hand pinning mine above my head. “Jenny, are you okay?” Samuel’s voice was more urgent now. Desperate, I mustered all my strength and kicked Hector’s leg as hard as I could. “Ow, Jenny, damn!” Hector hissed, finally letting me go, rubbing his leg with a pained expression. “Are you really that eager to open the door for him?” he teased, but his eyes darkened. “I wonder what he’d think if he saw you like this…” “What are you talking about?” I asked, horrified. He leaned in closer, his voice a low growl. “He doesn’t know you like him, does he? What do you think he’d do if he found out you’ve been in here, making out with his little brother?” Fear gripped me as I realized what he was saying. I stared up at him, wide-eyed. “You wouldn’t.” Hector didn’t respond. Instead, he slowly reached behind me, his hand hovering near the doorknob. I panicked, my voice trembling. “Please don’t open the door. Please.” His hand paused, and he glanced down at me, amused. “Begging now, huh? What happened to that bravado earlier?” His smirk faded as he pressed me closer, the heat of his body overwhelming me. If Samuel saw us like this… Hector’s fingers brushed the doorknob. “No, don’t!” I whispered desperately, trying to push him away. I could feel his grin against my ear. “Tell me what I want to hear, and maybe I won’t.” My heart pounded as I tried to think of something to say that would stop this. If Samuel opened the door, I’d be ruined — and Hector knew it. But before I could respond, Hector turned the handle. “Wait, Hector—” I started, but the door cracked open. My mind went blank. This was it. I was done for. In one swift move, Hector spun me around and pushed me forward. I stumbled out of the room, nearly tripping over my feet, just managing to catch myself in the hallway. The door clicked shut behind me, and I quickly spun around, my heart racing. Hector was nowhere to be seen. “Jenny?” Samuel asked, stepping closer. “What’s going on? Your lips… they’re so red.” I blinked in confusion, then instinctively raised a hand to my mouth. My lips were burning — probably from the kiss I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. “I’m fine,” I blurted, trying to change the subject. “Uh, what did you need, Samuel?” He gave me a concerned look, but didn’t press the matter. “It’s not much. I just wanted to apologize for earlier. Hector can be a real jerk, but he doesn’t mean any harm. Don’t let him get to you, okay?” I nodded, feeling guilty, knowing that Hector was the least of my worries right now. Samuel handed me a glass of milk and gave me a soft smile. “If he ever bothers you again, just let me know.” After Samuel left, I opened the door to my room, and there was Hector, standing there, arms crossed, smirking like he had won something. “You…!” I stammered, too angry to form a coherent thought. He laughed softly. “You sure are obedient when it comes to him.” Then, with a mocking smile, he took the glass of milk from my hand and drank half of it in one gulp. “You…” Before I could react, he grabbed my chin, tilting my face upward, and without warning, he poured the remaining milk into my mouth. I choked, sputtering as the cold milk dripped down my chin. Hector, looking smug, wiped my face with the back of his hand as if he’d just done me a favor. Satisfied, he walked out of the room, leaving me standing there in shock. It took me a long time to calm down after that. I had a terrible feeling I’d just made things worse with him. Later that night, I lay in bed, thinking it over. My mom finally came to see me, and I expected her to offer some comfort after everything that had happened. But instead, she told me I needed to be more patient, that I should stop provoking the Gayle brothers, especially Hector. “Look, honey, I don’t have much of a choice here. Your Mr. Gayle hasn’t even agreed to marry me yet…” I bit my lip and nodded. “I understand.”

After a sleepless night, I woke up late the next morning. By the time I got downstairs, everyone was already having breakfast. Samuel wasn’t there, probably out for work, but Mr. Gayle greeted me warmly, while Mommy Jenny gave me a look of disapproval. “Jenny, sit down and have some breakfast,” Mr. Gayle said cheerfully. I hadn’t even started eating when Hector piped up from across the table, “Hey, Sis. I heard your strawberry jam is amazing. I’d love to try it.” Mommy Jenny beamed. “Oh, yes! Jenny is really good at making jam. Why don’t you go whip up a batch for Hector?” I shot Hector a wary glance. The mischievous glint in his eyes told me he was up to no good. But I was stuck. Reluctantly, I nodded and headed to the kitchen. It wasn’t difficult to make, but it took time, and at least it gave me a break from sitting at the table with them. I was halfway through the process when Hector strolled into the kitchen. He claimed he was there to “help,” but I knew better. He just wanted to bother me. Pulling out a container of blueberries from the fridge, he smirked. “I heard you like these. I bought them just for you.” Every time he called me sis, it felt like a trap. He picked out a blueberry and held it up to my lips. “Go on, taste it.” I instinctively took a step back, wary of his intentions. Hector leaned in, his voice dropping lower. “What’s wrong? You don’t trust me?” Then, in one swift motion, he pressed himself up behind me, trapping me against the counter. “You…” I started, but he grabbed my hand, pulling me closer. “Show me how you do it, Sis. Maybe I’ll cook for my dad someday.” He was too close. Way too close. The kitchen was open, and the dining table was just across from us. My mom must have heard the commotion because she chuckled from the other room. “Jenny, why don’t you show Hector how it’s done? It’s good to see siblings getting along so well!” I nodded quickly, scooting forward to put some space between us, not wanting to make a scene. I tried to tell him to step aside. “You can stand over there and watch.” “I like it better from behind,” he whispered, stepping even closer until I was practically leaning over the counter. My whole body tensed. This was getting way too out of hand. Suddenly, Hector’s arm slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Careful, Sis. You don’t want to get hurt, do you?” he said in a low voice, his breath brushing against my ear. I jumped, startled, and the spoon I was using to stir the jam fell into the pot with a clatter. “Hector, you—” I began, trying to push him away, but his hands were already sliding lower, resting on my waist. He didn’t seem to care that we were in plain view of the dining room, where my mom and Mr. Gayle were still having breakfast. “Sis, you better hurry. If the jam burns, it’ll be ruined,” Hector teased, his voice low, as if this was all some kind of joke to him. My hands shook as I grabbed the spoon again, trying to focus on stirring the pot. But with Hector standing so close, practically glued to me, it was impossible to think straight. My free hand reached out to the counter, trying to find something to ground me as I felt Hector’s other hand wander dangerously close to the edge of my apron. “Hector, stop,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “This isn’t funny.” But he only chuckled softly. “You’re right. It’s not funny at all. It’s just fun.” I grabbed his wrist, trying to stop him from moving any closer, but Hector only smirked, easily slipping his fingers from my grasp. “Relax, Sis. You’re doing great,” he said, completely ignoring my protests. My pulse quickened. I could feel the heat from the jam, the heat from his body pressing into mine. I was trapped between the stove and Hector, unable to move. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my mom and Mr. Gayle still chatting, oblivious to what was happening in the kitchen. “Hector, please,” I pleaded softly, hoping no one would notice the panic in my voice. But Hector only smiled, grabbing a blueberry from the nearby bowl and holding it up to my mouth again. “Here, eat this.” Before I could say anything, he pushed the berry between my lips. As soon as I bit down, the juice dribbled down my chin, and Hector’s grin widened. “See? Isn’t it sweet?” I swallowed hard, the flavor of the blueberry barely registering over the pounding in my chest. He lowered his voice, so quiet only I could hear. “You’re good at biting, aren’t you?” A shiver ran down my spine, and I froze, unable to process what was happening. Just then, I heard my mom call from the dining room. “Jenny, are you cold? Why are you shivering like that?

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Recently, I’ve discovered something strange. The daughter I painstakingly carried for nine months looks exactly like my husband’s late first love! 1、 This weekend was Eric’s middle school reunion. Eric’s family home is in another city, and since his parents passed away a few years ago, we hadn’t gone back since our wedding. This reunion seemed like a good chance to visit his old home. Originally, he was supposed to go alone, but our six-year-old daughter, Lily, insisted on going with her dad. Left with no choice, I drove there as well. Before the event started, I went to the restroom, leaving Eric to look after Lily. Some of his middle school friends came over to chat with him. From a distance, I overheard one of them say, “Is this your kid with Sophie? She looks just like her mom.” Sophie—Eric’s first girlfriend. “Wow, Eric! You really managed to win over the goddess. Why didn’t you invite us to the wedding?” It was meant as a joke, but I saw Eric’s expression change. He took a step forward and shielded Lily behind him. “You’re mistaken. Sophie passed away eight years ago.” Then, noticing me, Eric quickly led Lily over and linked his arm with mine. “This is my wife, Charisse.” I pretended not to hear the earlier conversation and smiled warmly at his friends. His friends awkwardly scratched their noses, afraid that I had overheard. They quickly changed the subject. As the night went on, the chatter and drinks flowed, but my mind kept replaying that one comment from his friend. That’s when I realized… my daughter, Lily, doesn’t really look like me. Lily’s lips and eyebrows resemble Eric’s, as if they were cut from the same mold. But while both Eric and I have almond-shaped eyes, our daughter has big, round eyes. And her face shape—Eric and I both have long, oval faces, but Lily’s face is round and square. I had always assumed she hadn’t grown into her features yet, that she just had a baby’s chubby, round face. But after what his friend said, I vaguely recalled the photo of Sophie that Eric kept in his wallet—round face, big eyes. So, Lily looks more like Eric and Sophie than me! Not like me at all. That realization sent chills down my spine. But just as quickly, I laughed at myself for overthinking. After all, Sophie had been dead for eight years, and Lily was only six. How could the daughter I carried for nine months not be mine? Eric never hid anything about Sophie from me. When we met, Sophie had already passed away. He couldn’t forget her, but under pressure from his family to marry, he reluctantly agreed to go on a blind date. At that first meeting, he told me their tragic love story, and I even teared up listening to it. I was focused on my career and wasn’t bothered by the fact that he still had feelings for Sophie. I just wanted to find a good man, and we clicked. Less than a year after we got married, we had our daughter, Lily. Our marriage has been pretty sweet, and we’ve hardly argued about anything, except for one thing—our daughter’s nickname, Lily. So, the fact that Lily doesn’t look like me? I chalked it up to a passing thought, and by the end of the reunion, I had forgotten all about it. But what happened next made me realize that maybe, just maybe… Lily really wasn’t my daughter. 2、 Lily just turned six, and after summer break, she’ll be starting first grade. We’d already enrolled her at Central Elementary School, which is conveniently close to home. According to the school’s rules, all incoming students must have a health check before starting the year. Eric was busy with work, so I didn’t mention it to him. I took Lily to New York General Hospital on my own. Lily was unusually quiet on the drive there, pouting and refusing to talk. “What’s wrong, Lily? Something bothering you? Can you tell Mommy?” She raised her chubby little face, “Mommy, Daddy won’t let me cut my hair, but I think short hair is cool. Long hair is uncomfortable! I’ve had long hair my whole life, and I want a new look for the new school year.” I had been so caught up in work that Eric had always taken care of Lily. Since she never brought it up, I hadn’t noticed that she had always had long hair. Even when it was hard to manage as a baby, Eric insisted she keep it. Now that she was older, it made sense that she’d want her own style. I didn’t want her to be upset over something small, so I said, “Alright, Lily. But you have to promise not to cry when they take your blood during the checkup, and then Mommy will take you to get your favorite haircut. Deal?” Lily was thrilled and eagerly agreed, “Deal!” The medical report wouldn’t be ready until the next day, so after the checkup, I took Lily to a nearby salon and got her the short haircut she wanted. I never expected the reaction I got from Eric when he came home that evening. The moment he saw Lily’s short hair, his face darkened, and he yelled at me. “Who told you to cut her hair?!” Lily was so scared she immediately hid behind me, nervously peeking at Eric’s angry expression. I was annoyed too. “Lily said long hair was uncomfortable, so I let her cut it. She likes it short. It’s not your hair, so why are you so mad? You’re scaring her.” Eric’s face was livid. Without even taking off his shoes, he strode past me and yanked Lily out from behind. “You like short hair?! Didn’t you promise Daddy you’d keep it long? Why did you cut it?!” Lily, just a child, had never seen her father so furious. She immediately burst into tears, crying out for me. My heart ached for her, and I quickly scooped her up, holding her close to comfort her. “What’s wrong with you? It’s just a haircut! Why are you acting like a madman? Look, you’ve scared her. I’m her mother. I can take her for a haircut if I want to.” Eric let out a cold laugh. “Now you remember you’re her mother? Have you ever taken care of her all these years?” I frowned. “Eric, didn’t we agree? After I had the baby, I wouldn’t stop working, and you promised to take care of her. Now you’re blaming me?” Eric realized he had overreacted and quickly changed his tone. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve been really stressed at work lately, and I took it out on you both. I’m sorry.” “Come here, Lily. Daddy’s sorry. Let me hug my little princess.” But Lily was too scared, still crying quietly in my arms. I ignored him, took Lily to her room, and she clung to me, asking me to stay with her for the night. I assumed she was just shaken, so I grabbed a pillow and stayed in her little room. But after telling her two bedtime stories, she still wouldn’t sleep. “Mommy, why do I have two mommies?” I frowned and gently asked, “What do you mean, Lily?” She blinked her big eyes, and what she said next hit me like a bolt of lightning. “The other night, Daddy thought I was asleep, and I heard him whispering that I’m looking more and more like my other mommy. He sounded happy, but he was crying when he said it.” “Mommy, who’s my other mommy? Why do I have two mommies?” 3、 I suppressed the anger rising inside me and managed to soothe Lily to sleep. When I got back to our bedroom, Eric was still awake. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at his wallet. I knew he was looking at Sophie’s picture again. Fury surged inside me, and I snatched the wallet from his hands. “Eric, she’s been dead for years! Can’t you let her rest in peace?!” Eric spoke through gritted teeth, “Charisse, I’m sorry about today. Let’s not fight. Lily’s asleep, and I’m not in the mood for this. Just give me back my wallet.” “Hah,” I scoffed, “You’re the one who can’t accept reality. Stop trying to drag my daughter into your fantasies! Wake up, Eric. Lily is my child, not yours and Sophie’s!” I threw the wallet at him, grabbed my pillow, and stormed off to our daughter’s room. I didn’t notice the flash of coldness in Eric’s eyes as I left. I spent the next day thinking about what Lily had said. It left me so drained I could barely focus at work. Luckily, I had my own office, so zoning out wasn’t an issue. During my lunch break, I went to New York General Hospital to pick up Lily’s medical report. Lily was perfectly healthy and ready to start school. I breathed a sigh of relief, but then something strange caught my eye. There was something off about the report. I laid it out on my desk and reviewed it carefully. What I saw made me gasp. Lily’s blood type was listed as B. But I’m type A, and Eric is type O. Based on basic biology, there’s no way we could have a child with type B blood! Suddenly, Lily’s words from last night echoed in my mind: “Why do I have two mommies?” And Eric’s friend’s joke from the reunion—“This kid looks just like Sophie.” Two mommies? An answer started forming in my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. No. It couldn’t be. Sophie’s been dead for eight years! Lily was born after I carried her for nine months. I was there. I watched the doctor cut the umbilical cord myself. There couldn’t be a mistake. But the facts were staring me in the face, and I couldn’t ignore them. The room spun as the weight of everything hit me. I sank into my chair, trying to steady myself. Could the daughter I had raised all these years not be mine? It was absurd. Impossible. I refused to believe it. In the end, I decided to go back to the hospital. Maybe there was a mistake with the tests? I took the day off work and drove straight to the hospital. But when I got there, they confirmed that the results were accurate. No mistakes. Which meant there was something wrong with Lily. I wanted to ask Eric, but when I thought about his behavior last night, something didn’t sit right. Could he be involved? The thought sent shivers down my spine. I didn’t want to believe it, but it was the only explanation that made sense. Who else had access to switch my child? But why would Eric do that? If Lily isn’t my daughter, then whose child is she? She can’t be Sophie’s—Sophie’s been dead for eight years. How could a dead woman have a child? I had to stop myself from spiraling into endless what-ifs. Instead, I gathered some of Lily’s hair from her hairbrush, as well as samples from both Eric and me, and sent them to the DNA testing center. 4、 The results would take a week. During that week, I didn’t tell anyone what I had done, not wanting to raise suspicion. Instead, I found myself constantly watching Lily, trying to find any resemblance to me. But no matter how much I looked, the only similarity between us was that we were both female. There was nothing else that tied us together. Even my family’s characteristic olive skin hadn’t passed down to Lily. She was pale, with round eyes and a square face—nothing like me. I read everything I could about genetics. Even with strong genes from one parent, children usually share at least some traits with both parents. The week dragged on in agony, but finally, the results came in. The DNA test confirmed it. Lily wasn’t my biological daughter. But Eric… he was Lily’s father. The truth hit me like a bucket of ice water. My hands trembled uncontrollably as I stared at the results. I wasn’t Lily’s mother, but Eric was her father. So who was her mother? Sophie had been dead for years, which meant only one possibility: my loving husband had cheated on me either before or after I got pregnant. And this other woman had given birth around the same time and swapped her child for mine. I had raised someone else’s child all these years. But where was my child? What had happened to her? Rage flooded my chest. I drove home as fast as I could. Eric was playing with Lily’s Barbie dolls. She was brushing the doll’s hair when she saw me. She immediately dropped the doll and ran over to me, her sweet voice calling out, “Mommy!” But all I could think about was my missing daughter. Was she out there somewhere? Was she warm, well-fed? Could she be living as happily as Lily? I knew it wasn’t Lily’s fault, but it didn’t stop me from feeling a growing distance from her. Every time I looked at her, I thought of my own daughter, suffering somewhere, without me. I forced a smile and said, “Lily, be a good girl. Mommy needs to talk to Daddy. Go play with your dolls in your room for a bit, okay?” Lily looked up at me, then over at Eric. It seemed like she sensed something was wrong, but she obediently nodded and took her doll back to her room. Once I was sure she couldn’t hear us, I turned to Eric, fury burning inside me. He was sitting on the couch, looking confused. “What’s your problem now?” I forced myself to stay calm. Instead of slapping him like I wanted to, I pulled out the DNA results and Lily’s medical report. “Explain this, Eric.” He picked up the results, and his pupils shrank. His hands trembled slightly. “This… this can’t be right.” But he quickly regained his composure, setting the papers back down and giving me a smile. “That’s impossible. Lily is the daughter you carried for nine months. The DNA center must have made a mistake.” “How could she not be related to you?” “Charisse, have you been reading too many novels? We’re not some rich, powerful family where baby swaps happen. Why would anyone swap our child?” As I stared at his calm face, my heart turned to ice. Up until that moment, I had hoped he didn’t know. But seeing him now, I realized my darkest suspicion was true. He knew. He had known all along. And worse, he was the one who had done this. Eric was still rambling on. “There must be some mistake. We’ve raised Lily together all these years. How could she not be yours?” “How about this, Charisse? Let’s go together and get another test. The three of us.” 5、 I didn’t turn down his offer. We went to a larger hospital to get a second opinion. But I didn’t believe a word he said. I had already contacted the hospital where I gave birth, and they assured me that they had never had any cases of swapped babies. I even went to the doctor who had delivered Lily. He couldn’t believe what I was telling him. When I showed him the DNA results, he was visibly shocked. We reviewed the surveillance footage from my time in the hospital, going through it frame by frame. There was no sign of any wrongdoing there. The doctor adjusted his glasses. “Mrs. Williams, I’m so sorry about this, but I can personally vouch for this hospital. We’re a reputable institution. There’s no way a child could have been swapped here. But after you gave birth, you transferred to Riverside Family Care Center. Maybe you should check there. You might find your biological daughter.” The doctor had a point. It couldn’t have happened in the hospital. When I gave birth, I nearly died. After an emergency C-section, Eric had taken care of Lily. He had the time and opportunity to swap our daughter. But I still couldn’t understand why. Why would Eric do such a thing? And if Lily wasn’t our child, then who was she? I contacted Riverside Family Care Center next, but unfortunately, the video records from that time had long been lost. I was overwhelmed with exhaustion as I dragged myself home. Eric and Lily were waiting for me at the dinner table. The sight of a table full of food didn’t stir my appetite at all. Without warning, Eric set the new DNA results down in front of me. “See? I told you the hospital must have made a mistake. I’ve heard online that some shady DNA centers give everyone false results just to make a quick buck. Maybe that’s what happened to you.” Lily stared up at me with wide eyes. “Mommy, don’t you want me anymore?” My heart felt like it was going to burst. I forced the softest smile I could manage and said, “Mommy would never stop loving you, Lily. You’re too young to understand what’s going on right now. Why don’t you go back to your room, sweetheart?” Once Lily was out of earshot, I turned to Eric with a steely glare. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you tell her that? This is between you and me. Why drag a little girl into it?” Eric smiled and pushed the fake DNA results toward me again. “It wasn’t my choice. Lily’s been really upset these past few days. She thinks you don’t want her anymore. She hasn’t been eating well. I had to tell her the truth.” “You know she’s just a child. How do you expect her to process the idea that the mother who raised her might not be her biological mother?” “Look, the test results are out. Let’s stop fighting. I told you, the hospital made a mistake.” I scoffed. “You really think I’ll believe the results from a test you rigged? I didn’t tell you this earlier, but I sent all three of our DNA samples to a trusted lab. The results came back saying you and Lily are related, but she’s not mine. What lab would only fake one side of a test?” “Things have gone too far, Eric. You’d better tell me where my daughter is, or I swear I’ll take this to the police.” 6、 Eric’s face stiffened when he heard my words, but he quickly composed himself, still holding onto that feeble DNA test result. “Charisse, what’s going on with you? Are you under too much pressure at work, imagining things? Lily is our daughter, how could you even doubt her?” Before I could respond, Lily’s cries interrupted us. She ran over, clutching my leg. “Mommy, Mommy, don’t leave me. I’ll be good—please don’t leave me!” Her cries pierced my brain like needles. I had no choice but to pause the conversation with Eric, picking her up and gently soothing her. “Mommy’s not leaving you, Lily. Why would you think that? You’re Mommy’s precious baby. It’s not like what you’re thinking. Mommy and Daddy just have something to work through, but we would never stop loving you.” With Lily’s crying, Eric and I didn’t resolve anything that night. Lily clung to me, afraid that I’d leave her the moment she closed her eyes. She insisted on sleeping with me. I was just as eager to avoid sharing a room with Eric, so I took my pillow and blanket and went to Lily’s room. Even though Lily was exhausted, she was restless and wouldn’t fall asleep, even after I told her several stories. “Mommy, will I become an unwanted child?” I kissed her forehead. “What a silly thought, sweetheart. What mommy would ever abandon her own daughter?” “But Daddy said… Daddy said you don’t think I’m your real daughter anymore. And that you’re going to bring home a new sister. When that happens, you won’t love me anymore. You’ll leave me.” Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke. My heart ached as I held her tightly, emotions swirling inside me. Honestly, I knew Lily was innocent in all this, but every time I thought about how my real daughter might be suffering somewhere because of her, the pain became unbearable. I hated Eric for being so despicable. This was between us, yet he dragged an innocent child into it, trying to use her as leverage against me. But he was wrong—nothing could throw me off course. Lily peeked up from my embrace. “Mommy, please don’t leave me. Daddy’s been acting weird. He says strange things when he’s asleep, and he won’t let me cut my hair. I don’t want to live with just Daddy.” Weird things? I latched onto those words, my curiosity piqued. Because of work, Eric had always been the one to put Lily to bed. “What strange things has Daddy been saying, Lily? Can you tell Mommy?” Lily furrowed her little brow, thinking hard before quietly saying, “Daddy says he misses Mommy. Sometimes he even cries, saying how cruel Mommy was for leaving us. But you’re right here with us, Mommy.” Her voice grew smaller, and she nestled closer to me. “Mommy, Daddy is really strange. I don’t want to live with him alone. He even gives me baths when you’re not around and tells me not to tell you.” “What?”

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In my last life, Mrs. Margaret White, my teacher, led the bullying against me, simply because I scored better than the boy she favoured. She spread rumours in class, saying I cheated and was involved in a relationship. She would say, “Some people’s marks have suddenly shot up, but we all know how they got there.” She’d add, “Some people spend all day not studying and only know how to lead people astray!” She stoked the flames, getting the whole class to turn against me, and in the end, it drove me to depression and forced me to drop out. This time, however, I was back on the day she started spreading the rumour about me cheating. I raised my hand and said: “Miss, last time I handed in my homework, I saw you sitting on Max Turner’s lap. Is that how you improve his grades?” The mock exam results had come out, and I had moved up thirty places. I’d gone from the bottom of the class to the middle. Alice Bennett stared at my paper, “Liv, you’re smashing it!” Alice is my best friend, always encouraging me. We were inseparable in school. In my previous life, when I was depressed and dropped out, she tried her hardest to convince me to stay. After I took my own life, she nearly fainted from crying. Now that I had another chance at life, I looked at the test paper on my desk, but I wasn’t particularly happy. I knew trouble was coming my way. Mrs. White strode into the room, her stiletto heels clicking as she swayed her hips. “I’ve put the class rankings on the board. You can check after class.” “But first, I want to talk about two students, Olivia Williams and Max Turner.” Mrs. White walked over to Max’s desk. Max sat alone, near the front. She pretended to comfort him, patting him on the shoulder. “You didn’t do so well this time, Max. Olivia’s overtaken you.” Max nodded, but from where I sat, I could see him nudge Mrs. White’s lower back with his elbow. Disgusting. Alice immediately jumped to my defence, “What’s that supposed to mean, Mrs. White?” Mrs. White snorted, her expression turning condescending. “Students falling behind is fine. As the form tutor, it’s my job to focus on those who need to catch up. As long as they want to learn, it’s no problem.” “But what concerns me are those with ulterior motives.” “How someone’s grades improved so quickly, I’m not sure. I don’t want to investigate, and frankly, I’m too tired to bother. I’ll spare her the embarrassment by not naming names.” I stared at Mrs. White as she twisted the truth on the podium, and it brought me right back to the last time. Once or twice, I had outscored Max Turner. She began calling me out during assemblies, saying, “Some people’s marks have suddenly shot up, but we all know how they got there.” Then I borrowed a book from the library, and the student council president, Samuel Turner, helped me. Mrs. White saw this. She spread another rumour, “Some people never study and just spend their time seducing others!” She led the class in isolating me. In lessons, she wouldn’t ask me questions. After class, she refused to mark my homework. Even when I handed it in, she wouldn’t grade it. It got worse—she stopped giving me study materials, and when the school counted the class roll, I wasn’t included. Teenagers can be simple and cruel. When a teacher dislikes a student, how can that student have any friends? At that point, Alice was the only one who still talked to me, but Mrs. White eventually transferred her to another class. After that, I was completely alone. Rumours spread, the teacher hated me, my classmates bullied me, and eventually, I dropped out due to depression and ended my life. And all of it because I scored better than Max, the teacher’s favourite. This time, the story started the same way. So I raised my hand and said, “Miss, last time when I handed in my homework, I saw you sitting on Max Turner’s lap. Is that how you improve his grades?” Mrs. White’s face went pale. “What on earth are you talking about, girl?” “Not only do you cheat, but you’re a liar too!” I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “Miss, what are you on about?” “Weren’t you unsteady on your feet, and Max was just helping you out? You accidentally ended up on his lap, didn’t you?” Mrs. White’s face flushed from blue to white, then back again. “Yes, I wasn’t steady on my feet.” Of course, that wasn’t what had happened, but my intention was only to give her a little warning. Still, the students started buzzing. After all, we were teenagers. Mrs. White quickly shouted, “Alright, enough! Quiet down, let’s get back to class!” After the lesson, Mrs. White hurried out without even stopping to talk to Max. Once she left, my classmates swarmed around me. “Olivia, is what you said really true?” “Did Mrs. White and Max actually… you know?” “She does walk like that… I always thought she was a bit much.” I calmly packed my books away. Alice was watching me with concern. I finished tidying up and grabbed Alice’s arm, “Let’s head to the toilets.” As we walked away, I turned to the nosy crowd. “The teacher said she was just unsteady on her feet. That’s all I know, so don’t drag me into it. Mrs. White already doesn’t like me.” Then I pulled Alice along, leaving the gossip behind. When someone spreads rumours about you, the best way to fight back is to start an even bigger, juicier rumour—especially if it’s not entirely false. Mrs. White was implying that my grades came from cheating, so I hinted at something just as inappropriate. Students love gossip. Even the slightest hint of a scandal draws them in. And what’s more explosive than a cheating scandal? A teacher-student affair. I had planted the seed. If they were curious, they could find out for themselves. Let’s just hope Mrs. White keeps her secrets well hidden from these curious teenagers. On the way to the toilets, Alice Bennett seemed like she had something she wanted to say to me, but she kept hesitating. When we finally got to the toilets, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Liv, I’m worried Mrs. White is going to come after you.” “She won’t. Why would she, unless she has something to hide?” “But… did she really sit on Max’s lap that day…?” I quickly shushed her. “Careful! Walls have ears!” Alice looked around nervously and nodded, grabbing my hand as we hurried out of the toilets. High school is supposed to be wonderful, the time we’ll remember forever. Alice tugged me along, glancing back to urge me. “Hurry up, we’re going to be late for class!” I felt a twinge of guilt. I was using her. It wasn’t just that walls might have ears; they did have ears. I had noticed there were other girls in the next stall when I mentioned Mrs. White. I said it on purpose—I wanted her reputation ruined. I wanted her to go through exactly what I went through. Every bit of it.

Rumours about Mrs. White began to spread throughout the school. She tried to change her appearance, dressing in plain, casual clothes and swapping her stilettos for flats. It seemed like she was attempting to repair her image. But, of course, the rumours only grew. “Mrs. White’s not wearing heels anymore. Do you reckon she’s pregnant?” “Definitely. My mum wore flats and loose clothes when she was pregnant with my brother.” “So, who do you reckon the father is?” “Do you even need to ask?” The students whispered and laughed, filling the corridors with gossip. Mrs. White clearly heard them, as she yelled for everyone to be quiet, dragging the group of whisperers outside for a telling-off. You could hear her scolding them down the whole corridor. The next day, she returned to her usual attire, as if to prove she wasn’t pregnant. But it was useless. Mrs. White no longer called Max into her office as often. Instead, she frequently summoned me. “Clean the office, Olivia.” “Take this pile of books to Mrs. Thompson’s office.” “Get me some water.” She treated me like a servant. Worse still, she always made me do these tasks during lessons. At St. Edmund’s, we had weekly quizzes for every subject, and the form tutor invigilated. Mrs. White waved my quiz results in the air as she stood at the front of the class. “Some students keep visiting the teacher’s office, but instead of improving, their grades are slipping.” Then she held up Max Turner’s paper alongside another student’s. “Look at these students who don’t spend their time in the office. As long as they want to learn, they’ll make progress.” “But some students like to pull stunts to get the teacher’s attention. And after all that attention, they still let the teacher down, even turning on them. It breaks my heart!” It was a clever move. I couldn’t attend lessons properly, which meant I couldn’t keep up. Naturally, my grades started slipping. But, of course, no one else knew that she was pulling me out of class to do her errands. Just then, Mrs. Holy Thompson, the head of discipline, walked past our classroom. Seeing me standing, she asked, “What’s going on here, Margaret?” Mrs. White let out a dramatic sigh, “Well, Olivia’s grades were improving, but now they’re dropping again. I’m worried about her.” Mrs. Thompson took a look at my quiz paper and frowned. “Olivia, this isn’t good enough.” She handed me some extra revision papers. “Come to my office after class. I’ve got a set of past papers for you. Make sure to copy them and share them with the class. It’ll be good practice for everyone.” I nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Thompson.” Mrs. Thompson was a well-respected teacher in her fifties. Even the headmaster deferred to her. She smiled and left, leaving Mrs. White fuming. “Well, thank Olivia, everyone. Without her, where would we get these past papers?” Mrs. White’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. But the class wasn’t having any of it. They sincerely shouted, “Thanks, Olivia!” I pressed my lips together and gave a small bow. “Sorry for holding the class back.”

I thought this would be the end of it, but after school, Max Turner blocked my way. I secretly turned on the recording device in my pocket. “What do you want?” Behind him were a few of The Ashford Boys, puffing on cigarettes. Max stepped closer. “What do I want?” “You don’t know what you’ve done? You don’t know who you’ve crossed?” I shouted back that I had no idea. One of The Ashford Boys let out a low whistle. “You’ve crossed Lord Turner!” “Gutsy, aren’t you, going up against Max?” I turned to Max, “So, you’re ‘Lord Turner,’ then?” Max lit a cigarette, smirking. “Who else would it be?” Just then, the headlights of a car shone into the alley. Mrs. White stepped out. She sashayed over to Max, who quickly put his arm around her waist. The boys whistled and cheered, calling her “Mrs. White” and even “sis-in-law.” Mrs. White smirked. “Don’t call me that. You’re not my students, are you? Only Max gets to call me that.” She shot me a cold look before turning to Max. “Do what you want, just don’t kill her.” I understood her meaning clearly—anything goes, as long as I don’t end up dead. Mrs. White drove away, and Max’s group closed in. One of the boys dumped a cup of milkshake over my head, and before I could react, someone grabbed my hair, pulling me to the ground. They dragged me across the pavement, throwing my books out of my bag and stomping on them, spitting and cursing. Max gave the order, “Strip her, take some photos.” A few of them started ripping at my clothes, pulling off layer after layer until only my undergarments remained. I struggled and kicked, and they kicked me back. Suddenly, a police siren blared in the distance, and Max’s group panicked, snapping a few photos before running off. Once they were gone, I scrambled to put my clothes back on and checked my recording device. Still intact. When I looked up, I saw Samuel Turner standing at the end of the alley, watching me. In my past life, he had only helped me pick up a book in the library, but that was enough for Mrs. White to accuse me of seducing him and cheating on my exams. The rumours had destroyed my reputation. Seeing him now, I felt a mix of guilt and confusion. I had never meant to drag him into this. But right now, I must’ve looked a mess. “Did they leave?” Samuel asked quietly. I nodded, realising that he must have been the one to scare them off. He nodded towards the recording device in my hand. “Is it broken?” I shook my head. “It’s fine.” “Hand it over, then.” I stared at him, confused. He adjusted his glasses. “It’s mine. Give it back.” Samuel took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. I suddenly noticed the striking resemblance between him and Max. Especially in their eyes. “I helped you. Don’t you think you owe me something?” I had a suspicion about what he wanted, but I wasn’t sure. I decided to take a gamble. “You want to destroy Max Turner. We can work together, but I’m not giving up control.” Samuel blinked in surprise, then burst out laughing. “Whoever said you were stupid? You’re sharper than I thought.” “Alright. How do you want to work together?” “I want Mrs. White to lose everything. And as for whatever Max does along the way, I’ll record it all and hand it to you.” Samuel held out his hand. “Deal?”

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