Category: English

After my husband passed away, Mrs. Cole brought home a boy whose features eerily resembled David’s. She claimed it was David reincarnated, sent to make up for the loss. So, I gave everything I had to raise him, grooming him to become the heir of Cole Corporation. But the moment he took control of the company, the first thing he did was cruelly torture me to death. In my final moments, my supposedly dead husband, Erick Cole, appeared alongside his prized student, Mia Summers: “Thank you for raising our son and amassing billions for him. After you die, I’ll make sure our son sees you off!” I was so enraged I spat blood and died! But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Erick faked his death. “Mrs. Cole, Professor Cole was in a car accident… it’s hopeless. You need to come to the hospital immediately… Maybe… you’ll still have time to see him one last time… sob… sob…” Mia Summers’ voice was full of sorrow and desperation, followed by sobbing. Hearing her voice again triggered memories of my previous life, and in an instant, I felt an eerie calm. But I still feigned disbelief and choked out: “Erick, wait for me… I’ll be there soon!” Then, I deliberately made Mia uncomfortable: “Mia, tell the hospital to use the best medicine, whatever it takes to save him. Money is never an issue for Cole Corporation!” Mia Summers, always calm and composed, always looked down on me, the businesswoman soaked in greed, didn’t she? Well, this time, I’d show her the true power of money! In my previous life, Erick wasn’t in any car accident. Mia had lied, saying he was on the brink of death to lure me to the hospital. In my grief, I had a real car accident on the way. By the time I came out of surgery, the only thing waiting for me was Erick’s ashes. But in this life, I’ll make sure his fake death becomes real. The car accident they’d planned for me won’t go to waste — I’ll gift it to my wicked mother-in-law, Mrs. Cole. I quickly called my assistant, Aaron Turner, and told him to drive Mrs. Cole to the hospital in my signature car. Meanwhile, I went upstairs, opened the secret vault in the study, and retrieved something important. Then, I called for the four bodyguards my father had left for me, got into my bulletproof SUV, and quietly headed for the hospital.

Outside St. Mary’s Medical Center. Aaron’s anxious and apologetic voice came through the phone: “Mrs. Cole, I’m sorry, the car was in an accident on West Broadway!” “Aaron, are you hurt?” Even though I knew Erick’s plan was meant for me, and that the driver would be fine, I still asked out of concern. “I’m fine, Mrs. Cole, but Mrs. Cole has a fractured leg!” Ha! The same injury I had in my past life! It seemed Erick and Mia were terrified of me arriving at the hospital too quickly. But I wasn’t about to let things go according to their plan. I calmly ordered Aaron: “Call the police to investigate and gather evidence, then call an ambulance and take Mrs. Cole to the hospital.” After all, the old woman wasn’t going to die any time soon! After that, I informed Robert Knight, the chief lawyer for Cole Corporation: “Handle the car accident on West Broadway. Detain the driver, refuse any civil compensation, and file charges for attempted murder.” “Yes, Mrs. Cole.” With everything arranged, I swallowed my rage, stepped out of the car, and rushed to Erick’s room, crying and stumbling the entire way, putting on the perfect performance of a heartbroken wife. The bodyguards behind me exchanged confused glances.

Inside the hospital room. Erick was already covered with a white sheet. My sudden appearance drained the color from Mia Summers’ face. “Mrs… Mrs. Cole, why… how did you get here?” I ignored Mia and everyone else in the room. Covering my mouth, I collapsed onto the floor, but the quiet sobs I forced out soon turned into uncontrollable wailing. “Mrs. Cole, Professor Cole is gone… please, accept my condolences.” Mia, her face filled with fake sorrow, hesitantly tried to help me up. I subtly avoided her touch and threw myself onto Erick’s body, lovingly stroking his head again and again, my voice cracking with tears: “Erick, how could you be so heartless and leave me like this? Erick… wake up… wake up…” The moment I flung myself onto Erick, I swiftly used the golden needle I had hidden in my sleeve to pierce three key acupuncture points on his head. Cole Corporation was built on traditional medicine, but no one knew that I was the sole heir to my grandfather’s golden acupuncture technique. In my previous life, Erick had injected himself with a fake death drug that he and Mia secretly developed, fooling the doctors. They staged the car accident and tricked me into believing it, allowing Erick to fake his death! Erick and Mia lived abroad for 20 years. By the time I had raised their illegitimate son to take over Cole Corporation, I realized on my deathbed just how badly I had been deceived. But their fake death drug wasn’t stable. If the antidote wasn’t administered within two hours, Erick would actually die. Now, I sealed three key acupuncture points on Erick’s head, ensuring that his fake death time was shortened by at least thirty minutes—without leaving a trace. After finishing, I wasted no time. I distanced myself from the “corpse.” With a low, raspy voice, I turned to Mike Thompson, one of my bodyguards, and said: “Go get Mrs. Cole. She needs to see her son one last time.” “Mrs. Cole, but her leg…” “It doesn’t matter. This is more important.” Mia Summers’ eyes flickered with panic as she quickly interjected, her words dripping with concern: “Mrs. Cole, please, don’t tell her just yet! She just had a car accident, and her heart isn’t in good condition… If she finds out about Professor Cole’s death, it might be too much for her.” Oh? So Mia already knew about Mrs. Cole’s car accident! Seems like the old woman didn’t deserve any sympathy for what she’s been through. Seeing Mia’s nervousness, I smirked inwardly as her desperation became obvious. “Professor Cole was her only son. We don’t have the right to take away her chance to say goodbye.” I waved my hand weakly, pretending I was too heartbroken to argue further. Seeing this, Mike immediately left the room. “Mrs. Cole, how can you be so reckless? The dead are gone, but what if something happens to Mrs. Cole? Professor Cole would never forgive you from the afterlife!” “From the afterlife? Yes, Erick, if you’ve become a ghost, make sure you come haunt me… Wouldn’t that mean you couldn’t bear to leave me, Erick?” I lowered my head, my body trembling as I gave a heart-wrenching performance of undying love between the living and the dead. It was enough to leave Mia flustered. If Mia Summers could maintain her composed “calm as a breeze” persona in front of a supposedly dead Erick, then I could play the devoted, virtuous wife who’d die for her husband. This time, I was ready for the long game. I, Sophia Cole, wouldn’t stop until I destroyed everything they loved—until they were separated, and their family was in ruins!

“M-Mrs. Cole, we should start preparing for Professor Cole’s funeral and send him to the morgue.” Mia Summers was growing frantic! Looks like they had accomplices waiting for them in the morgue. No rush though. I’ve been given a second chance, and none of these evil people are going to escape me this time! “Mrs. Cole will be here soon!” The real show could only begin once all the players were present. “Erick… my son… wake up and see your mother. She’s here to see you!” And there she was—the main act! I turned to face Mrs. Cole. She was crying with gut-wrenching anguish, yet there wasn’t a single tear in her eyes. In my previous life, I must have been blind and foolish to believe that a mother who had just lost her only son could move on so quickly. I had convinced myself that it was Jacob, who looked so much like Erick, that helped her recover. That’s how I ended up treating that ungrateful snake like my own son! “Mom, Erick… he’s really gone!” As soon as I said those words, Mrs. Cole’s body visibly stiffened. Shock flashed across her eyes, and she shot a secretive glance at Mia. Mia, thinking she was being discreet, gave a tiny shake of her head. Mrs. Cole relaxed and resumed her loud wailing. Meanwhile, I casually removed the golden needle from Erick’s head. As soon as I did, Mrs. Cole’s face contorted with pain as she clutched her chest. “Ah… ah, my heart… it hurts so much…” “Mom! Mom, what’s happening? Don’t scare me!” I didn’t move a muscle, though I pretended to be worried. “She’s having a heart attack! Move out of the way!” Seeing that Mrs. Cole was genuinely in pain, Mia panicked. She pushed me aside, but I wasn’t bothered. I immediately called Dr. Richard Carter, Mrs. Cole’s heart specialist, and put him on speakerphone. “Dr. Carter, my mother-in-law is having a severe heart attack!” “Mrs. Cole, as I’ve told you before, your mother-in-law can’t delay her heart transplant surgery any longer, but we haven’t found a suitable donor yet.” Dr. Carter’s voice was filled with regret. “What if my husband’s heart is a match?” “What?” Dr. Carter sounded shocked. I continued, my voice breaking as tears welled up. “Dr. Carter… my husband… he was just in a car accident… He’s gone…” Over the phone, Dr. Carter’s tone shifted from sorrow to a faint glimmer of hope. “My deepest condolences, Mrs. Cole… The chances of a match between mother and son are quite high. I’ll bring my team over right away!” “No!” “I won’t allow it!” Both Mia and Mrs. Cole, who had just caught her breath, shouted in unison. Mrs. Cole’s voice was weak, but she still managed to point a trembling finger at me and scolded, “Sophia, my son just died, and you’re already thinking about taking his heart? How can you be so cruel?” Mia quickly chimed in. “Yes, Mrs. Cole, Erick hated pain! How could you be so heartless? We should cremate him right away and let him rest in peace!” I looked at them, my face a picture of sorrow, and said, “Mom, I don’t want this either. But we can’t bring Erick back. If he knew that his heart could keep you alive, I’m sure he’d agree.” “And if possible… Mom, I also want to donate Erick’s other organs to those in need. That way, Erick can live on through others.” “No…” Mrs. Cole was so enraged by my shocking suggestion that she fainted on the spot. The room fell silent. Just as quickly, Mia lost her composure and started screaming. “Help! Someone, help!” At that moment, Dr. Carter arrived with his medical team. Clutching at my last thread of hope, I turned to him, tears streaming down my face. “Dr. Carter, please! Save my mother-in-law. My husband… he’s already gone. Mrs. Cole is my only family now. I can’t lose her too!” “Mrs. Cole, don’t worry. I’ll do everything in my power.” “If the transplant is successful, your mother-in-law could live another twenty or thirty years.” That’s right. In my previous life, I found a suitable heart donor for her. She lived long after I was gone, thanks to that transplant. Remembering the cruelty Mrs. Cole, Erick, and Mia showed me in the past, my eyes filled with tears of rage. “Dr. Carter, please… my husband and mother-in-law are in your hands.” “I’ll have my lawyer and the hospital staff handle the donation paperwork immediately.” “Understood.” Dr. Carter swiftly divided his team into two groups. One group rushed Mrs. Cole into the operating room, while the other prepared to transport Erick’s “body.” As Erick’s wife, I had agreed to donate his organs. Regardless of whether his heart was a match for Mrs. Cole, it needed to be removed and preserved quickly. By this point, Mia was visibly panicking. She clung to Erick’s hospital bed, refusing to let go. “No! You can’t take Professor Cole’s heart!” “Stay away from him! No one’s taking him!” She kicked at the medical staff, wailing as though it was her husband who had just died. I had finally had enough. I slapped her across the face, hard. “How dare you! Mia Summers, this is my family matter, not yours to decide!” With a loud smack, her face turned to the side, red from the blow. I glared at her, my face cold, and ordered the bodyguards, “Take her away!” Mike Thompson followed my instructions, easily pulling Mia away from the bed. As I watched Erick’s “body” being wheeled away, Mia stood there, dumbfounded. Everything had spun completely out of her control. I quickly composed myself, my face turning emotionless as I stared at Mia. Let’s see just how much Mia Summers truly loves Erick. Sure enough, Mia squeezed her eyes shut and screamed, “Professor Cole isn’t dead! He’s not dead!” Ah… finally, the fake death charade couldn’t continue any longer.

After Mia’s repeated interference, even Dr. Carter grew impatient with her. Coldly, he asked, “Who is she?” “She’s just one of my husband’s students! Don’t listen to her nonsense, Dr. Carter.” I stepped in, placing myself between Dr. Carter and Mia. “No! I can prove it! I can prove Professor Cole isn’t dead!” Mia was completely hysterical at this point, her voice rising with desperation. With just a glance from me, Mia slipped free from Mike’s hold and frantically rummaged through her bag. From inside, she pulled out a small medical cooler. Shaking, she rushed over to Erick’s bed, holding up a syringe. I slapped her again, this time with more force. “Stop it!” “Mia Summers, you’re a doctor. How could you believe injecting someone after death would bring them back to life?” “Mrs. Cole, I swear, I can save Professor Cole! You have to believe me! He’s not really dead, he’s just in a fake death state…” “Mia, enough! I know you and my husband were close, but the dead are dead. There’s no such thing as fake death!” “It’s true! Mrs. Cole, there’s still time! If I inject this now, Professor Cole will wake up!” Mia’s crying had turned ugly. Looking at her tear-streaked face, a wave of disgust washed over me. I finally realized that Erick had been blind. Dr. Carter, maintaining his professionalism, walked over to Erick’s bed and checked his vitals once more. After a moment, he shook his head in regret. Meanwhile, the attending physician glanced at his watch and solemnly declared: “As of now, Professor Cole has been deceased for 1 hour, 18 minutes, and 26 seconds. There is no way he can be revived.” His statement immediately turned the room against Mia. Everyone’s gazes were filled with disdain. “Mrs. Cole is Erick’s wife. Do you think she wouldn’t want her husband to live?” “Who does this Mia Summers think she is? She’s acting more like a mistress than a student!” … “Mike, get this lunatic out of here. Don’t let her interfere with Dr. Carter’s work!” It hadn’t even been an hour and a half since Erick’s supposed death. I wasn’t about to give Mia the chance to actually save him. Now that I had been reborn, I was going to make sure Erick truly died this time. Mia was dragged out of the room, her desperate cries falling on deaf ears. Everyone thought she was a mistress who had lost her protector and had gone mad! But as I glanced at the syringe now in Dr. Carter’s hands, I couldn’t help but ask with a glimmer of hope in my eyes: “Dr. Carter, could this injection really bring my husband back to life? Should we try it?” Dr. Carter quickly shook his head in regret and said, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Cole. Erick is really gone. My condolences.” The hope in my eyes dimmed under his gaze. Still, I wasn’t ready to give up completely. “Dr. Carter, please… what if…?” “Mrs. Cole, you need to focus on the living. Your mother-in-law can’t wait any longer!” Finally, tears of despair flowed from my eyes. “There’s really no hope?” At that moment, the attending physician handed me a death certificate and said: “Mrs. Cole, please sign here.” I took the death certificate, frozen for a moment before covering my face and bursting into sobs. “Erick… how could you be so heartless…” Everyone in the room saw my deep sorrow and helplessness. They rushed to comfort me: “Mrs. Cole, please, you need to sign it. Your mother-in-law’s surgery is more important now!” “Mrs. Cole, you’ve been through so much…” “Yes! Giving up your husband’s heart for your mother-in-law… how difficult that must be!” “Bodyguards can’t provide the same comfort as having real family. Mrs. Cole, you’ve made the right decision to save her!” … After I signed the death certificate, Robert Knight, my lawyer, arrived. He took over the organ donation paperwork for Erick’s heart. I stood there, watching as Dr. Carter wheeled Erick’s “body” into the operating room.

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My roommate, Jess Price, was absolutely convinced that every male in existence fancied her. From the fittest guy in our department to the old security guard, all of them, she believed, were at her feet. She’d created several WhatsApp groups full of admirers, posting heavily filtered selfies daily. And on top of that, she had no problem trashing me while insisting I give her my brother’s contact info. “Your brother seems to have a thing for me. Pass me his WhatsApp, I might as well have a bit of fun with him.” A senior once glanced her way, and Jess took it upon herself to snatch his laptop, claiming it was a love token. “Of course, he gave me his laptop. So what if I wiped all the data? He won’t mind; he’s smitten.” The most popular guy in the department had heard all about her, keeping a safe distance, yet she had her own twisted narrative. “Why would he avoid me and not others? Obviously, he’s shy!” Eventually, she crossed the line by going after the rich boyfriend of a spoiled daddy’s girl. That bloke wasn’t having it. “If I don’t give you a proper smackdown, it’d be an injustice to the mess you call your love life.”

I missed Freshers’ Week Bootcamp because of a minor car accident. Fortunately, the injury wasn’t too bad—just some swelling on my face. George, my brother, couldn’t help himself: “Your face looks like a painter’s palette—probably best to stay indoors for now.” But when I finally sorted out all my paperwork and arrived at Ashcroft Halls, his face was the one with red and blue streaks. “I don’t like speaking ill of women, but you’ve got an odd one in your flat. Keep your distance.” I laughed at his overreaction and shooed him away, then eagerly pushed open the door to my new room. “You’re Holly Sutton?” A girl’s eyes scanned me up and down. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.” “Give me your boyfriend’s WhatsApp. Though, tell him not to get his hopes up—I’m not interested in broke blokes. It’s all about their effort.” My boyfriend? What on earth? The girl covered her mouth and giggled. “Can’t blame you. It’s my overwhelming charm. Every man fancies me—it’s exhausting, really.” I was completely dumbfounded. “Wait, you’re saying my brother… fancies you?” My nephew’s already old enough to go on errands, love. Also, my sister-in-law, Emily, is a former beauty queen. “Your brother? You’re so ugly, you look nothing like him. Are you trying to save face by lying to me?” Okay, I admit George is a bit on the handsome side, but as the son of a factory owner, he spends all day in the workshop, not exactly dressed to impress. And here I was, with bandages on my face, swollen eyes, looking like an absolute toad. “Whatever, just give it to me. I don’t have time to waste on men like him.” “Wait a sec, why do you think my brother likes you?” I finally asked, unable to hold it in any longer. She huffed. “Your brother’s gaze lingered on me for ten seconds. Then, he looked straight into my eyes and said thank you. If that’s not a blatant invitation, I don’t know what is!” Mate, your eyeliner looks like it’s drawn with two thick ropes, and your lips are blood red. The fact my brother didn’t run away screaming is a miracle. I watched as she held out her phone with two fingers, as if she was doing me a favor. I slapped it out of her hand. “You’ve got some nerve! Did you get delusional after a pint? You’ve got a death wish if you think you can mess with me. What, did you walk straight out of surgery and forget to empty the rubbish in your brain? My sister-in-law could roll out of bed and still look twenty times better than you. Seriously, grab a mirror from Primark and have a reality check!” My tirade left everyone in the room frozen. I shoved past Jess and headed to my bed. Only to discover that my anger had hit a whole new level. My bed was covered in clothes and dirty socks—it looked like a landfill site. “Whose clothes are these? Clear them off, this is my bed.” Someone gave me a nudge, signaling with their eyes. “That’s Jess Price’s stuff.” “Jess, come clear your things.” I repeated. Jess snapped out of her daze and glared at me like her eyes were on fire. “You’re new here and don’t know the rules. At home, my mum always cleans up after me. I don’t do chores.” I looked around and saw a few sympathetic faces. Clearly, they had been dealing with her nonsense for quite some time. “You don’t do chores? Fine, I’ll handle it.” I rolled up my sleeves, gathered all the clothes on my bed, kicked open the door, and tossed them into the hallway. Someone had just mopped the floor, so the clothes landed in puddles. Couldn’t have timed it better. Jess’s mouth dropped, and she let out a high-pitched scream. “You’re mad! That was my favorite outfit!” “Was it? Well, that’s just brilliant, then,” I replied, shaking out my wrists, feeling thoroughly satisfied with myself. Jess was still screaming and hopping about, probably gearing up to hit me. But at 5’8″ and a regular at the gym, she quickly thought better of it. She glared at me one last time before stomping out of the room. A few minutes later, Mrs. Baines, our halls manager, arrived.

“She threw all my clothes on the floor! That dress alone costs over £200! She should pay me back—or get expelled!” Mrs. Baines turned to me, “Why did you throw her clothes out?” I smiled. “They were on my bed, which makes them my stuff. I could burn them if I wanted to.” “See, Mrs. Baines! She’s a troublemaker! No respect for you at all!” I smirked. “If you respected Mrs. Baines so much, why didn’t you tidy your clothes up before now? You knew I was moving in today, yet you dumped your stuff on my bed. I took it as a gift—shame I don’t wear trash.” Laughter erupted around the room. Jess’s face turned beetroot red. “Well, you shouldn’t have thrown them on the floor. You’re not the one cleaning up, where’s your sense of decency?” I cursed silently. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to clean up. What’s your problem?” I opened my suitcase, grinning at Mrs. Baines. “I haven’t unpacked yet—too much rubbish around. Might as well clean it all at once.” I proceeded to scrape the remains of someone’s watermelon rinds and discarded seeds from the table and threw them onto the pile of Jess’s clothes. I even gave it a couple of stomps for good measure. “Press it down—makes it easier to clean,” I said, smirking. Now the whole lot was drenched and covered in food. Useless. Jess let out another wail, her face drained of colour. “That’s enough!” Mrs. Baines said firmly, turning to Jess. “You all need to learn to live together. Sort these things out between yourselves.” After Mrs. Baines left, Jess shot me a venomous glare. I raised my head and said coldly, “Stop glaring—your contact lenses are slipping.” The other girls, finally free of Jess’s tyranny, were more than happy to help me unpack and introduce themselves. Jess, on the other hand, retreated to her bed, sulking behind the curtain. I still needed to pick up a few things, so I asked the girls for directions and headed out, mask and baseball cap on. It took me about half an hour to find the Sainsbury’s they mentioned. As soon as I walked in, I could feel the unfriendly stares. When I went to the checkout with my items, a guy cut in front of me and sneered to his mate: “See, even ugly bints go psycho.” “Course they do, mate. No blokes like her, so when other girls get attention, she just loses it.” Even I wasn’t thick enough not to realize they were talking about me. Bloody hell, it felt like I was in some twisted reality show where every episode was a new challenge. I slammed my items down on the counter and wedged myself between them. “What’s the gossip, then? Mind if I join?” They both looked shocked, stepping back involuntarily. I used the opportunity to slip in front of them, grinning. “Ugly girls are meant to be psycho, right? You two look like you know all about it.” Their faces turned a deep shade of red. “Who the hell are you calling ugly?” “You two, obviously.” They were left speechless. One of them, clearly more cocky than smart, rolled up his sleeves like he was ready to fight. I wasn’t having any of it. I grabbed an apple from my shopping bag and crushed it in one hand. Juice splattered everywhere, dripping down my fingers. I shot a glance downwards, and suddenly both blokes clamped their legs together in panic. “Bye now, boys!” I said cheerfully, striding out of the shop. It was clear this hadn’t just come out of nowhere. When I got back to the flat, I pulled Alice aside and asked if there was some sort of group chat I didn’t know about. She confirmed there was, and soon enough, she opened it up for me to see. The second I glanced at the screen, I was flooded with a barrage of disgusting images and hateful messages. It turned out Jess had been posting edited pictures of me, painting herself as the victim of some grand bullying conspiracy. One of her latest messages read: “I don’t even know what I did to upset her! I just asked if she wanted to grab lunch, and she smashed all my makeup. I’m honestly scared.” The photo beneath it? A close-up of her tear-streaked face, long lashes glistening with tears, her pink cheeks smudged with mascara. Just peeking into the corner of the shot? Her legs, perfectly positioned to look long and slender. Most of the group was made up of guys, and they were falling over themselves to defend her. The whole lot of them were calling me every name under the sun, especially attacking my looks. I asked Alice to add me to the group. Time to go to war. TouristA: “@SunsetInLA, you’re the kind of bloke who wipes his greasy face with a dingy old towel, scarred with acne, all while eating a six-quid ready meal. You steal someone else’s selfie for your profile pic and then go commenting under every pretty girl’s post, ‘Wanna cry in my Ferrari?’” TouristA: “@MountainMan, no girls like you, your mates laugh behind your back, and you scrape together £13 in your bank account, buy a takeaway, and use your last quid to pay for a three-day Netflix trial. Screenshot the receipt and post it to Insta: ‘You’ll never understand my pain. You don’t deserve my loyalty.’” TouristA: “@LongLegsYouCan’tTouch, your love’s like those flyers people hand out in the street. Everybody gets one. Your bank account? About as consistent as your morals—sometimes full, but usually empty.” TouristA: “@ChooChooMaster, you’ll drink yourself stupid tonight and try to pull anything with a pulse. You fancy yourself a ladies’ man, but mate, look in the mirror—what kind of salad do you think you are?” The group chat blew up. SunsetInLA: “Who the hell let this one in? Come out and say your name if you’ve got the guts!” MountainMan: “Oi! I never buy the three-day trial! I get the full month, you twat!” TouristA: “@MountainMan, what kind of bin bag do you use, mate? You can stuff a lot in there.” TouristA: “@SunsetInLA, I don’t hide my name, mate. Your daddy’s here.” The chat descended into chaos. Finally, Jess—going by the name SpanishSunset in the group—spoke up: “See, guys? This is exactly what I have to deal with. She’s bullying me like this all day, just like she did earlier.” SunsetInLA: “Don’t worry, Sunset. I’ve got your back. TouristA, how about we meet face-to-face and see if you still have the balls to insult me?” TouristA: “@SunsetInLA, if I insult you in person and you don’t get it, shall I carve it on your gravestone?” ChooChooMaster: “SpanishSunset, don’t cry. She’s just jealous because you’re beautiful. You’re everything she’ll never be, so she lashes out. Proper backup girl.” TouristA: “@ChooChooMaster, you reckon everyone’s a spare tyre because you think you’re a jack. Ain’t no one calling you, mate.” Alice was practically on the floor, laughing and giving me a thumbs up. My fingers were flying across the keyboard at this point, nearly sparking fire from the speed. The group was in absolute shambles. Only a few stragglers managed to spit out some feeble insults, but they were met with more of my jabs. Finally, the chat quieted down. Jess, or SpanishSunset, sent a voice message: “Please stop being so mean to everyone. I’ll apologise, okay? Just take it out on me from now on. They’re my sweet boys, I don’t want them hurt.” What a pure and delicate little flower she was. Not. TouristA: “@SpanishSunset, is your family in the antiques business? You call everyone ‘darling’?” TouristA: “@SpanishSunset, you think you’re so desirable, but honestly, you’re cheap and overused.” TouristA: “@SpanishSunset, with all these backups, your car must be an absolute wreck.” Suddenly, a notification popped up. TouristA had been booted from the ‘We’re All Mates’ group. Well, I’ll be damned. They kicked me out when they couldn’t handle the heat. Did they really think I’d just let it go? I flipped out of bed like a gymnast and yanked open Jess’s curtain. She froze, hands still poised over her phone, clearly typing away in the chat. Her entire body went rigid.

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My two-faced sister-in-law manipulated my brother to steal my property. She even used her unborn child as a threat, saying if she didn’t get the house, she’d have an abortion. My brother kept telling me to give in for the sake of the child. Why should I? You’re just an adopted son! My brother got a girl pregnant out of wedlock. She’s already three months along, and the girl is crying and making a fuss, so they have no choice but to prepare for the wedding. My brother, Jasper Blackwood, is a not-so-bright playboy, at least that’s what I’ve always thought. To maintain good relations, I brought some local specialties and fruits for my soon-to-be sister-in-law, Jade, when I returned from a business trip. I had originally planned to buy her a handbag, but my mom said she would take us both to get custom-made bags when she returned. If I really wanted to give a gift, I could just order one from the store later. I thought about it and agreed, so I just brought some simple welcome gifts. As soon as I walked in the door, I saw Jade sitting on the couch watching TV shows, wearing my pajamas. I really don’t like other people touching my clothes, but I thought maybe my brother had given them to her to wear, so I couldn’t say anything. I smiled and put the things in my hand in front of her, “Sister-in-law, just a small token. I hope you like it.” Jade glanced at the gift boxes on the table and enthusiastically held my hand, saying there was no need to spend money. “It’s okay, as long as you like it,” I said. After I finished speaking, Jade started rummaging through the gift boxes on the table. In the end, it seemed she didn’t find anything she liked, but she still managed to keep a smile on her face. “Thank you, Aria. I really like them.” Then Jade pulled me close and asked where I worked, how much my monthly salary was, how much I gave to the family, and if I had a boyfriend. A bunch of questions that made me feel awkward and gave me a headache. If it were my old self, I would have slapped her for being so shameless. Out of politeness, I only answered the last question, “I don’t have a boyfriend.” A moment later, my brother came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of fruit. He told me to take the fruit to Jade. Jade started picking through the fruit again, and after reluctantly eating a couple of pieces, she told my brother she didn’t like fruit. Suddenly, I remembered I had two boxes of cherries in my car. When Jade saw the cherries, her eyes lit up, and she immediately devoured a whole box. Seeing them chatting happily in the living room, I didn’t want to be a third wheel, so I took my luggage back to my room. As soon as I entered my room, I was stunned.

The closet door was wide open, and everything inside was a mess. Clothes were strewn all over the bed and floor. Even the things on my dressing table were in disarray. If I didn’t know better, I’d think my room had been robbed. “Jasper!” I called out. It must have been Jade who did this! Jasper quickly ran upstairs. I pointed at the clothes scattered on the bed and floor, demanding to know what was going on. Jasper was holding his phone, playing a game. He glanced around and casually said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you. You’re living downstairs now. This room gets good sunlight, which is suitable for pregnancy. Jade and I are living here now.” I frowned at Jasper. “Why didn’t you tell me before you moved in? And who told her she could mess with my things?” “Don’t make such a fuss,” Jasper said dismissively, sitting on the edge of the bed and continuing his game. “It’s just a room. If your sister-in-law wants to live here, just let her. Besides, you have plenty of these things, and you’re not using them anyway. What’s wrong with letting your sister-in-law use them?” I was speechless. Sure, I didn’t use them often, but they could have at least told me. I might have been willing to let them use my things if they had asked. I angrily shooed Jasper out of the room, feeling a bit hurt. I called my mom to complain. My brother was still standing at the door, saying, “Remember to pack up and move downstairs. This room belongs to Jade now.” I laughed bitterly. She hasn’t even married into the family yet, and she’s already using her name to arrange things in our house?

Recently, my parents have been busy preparing for their engagement, often not coming home. To give their future daughter-in-law a satisfactory wedding, my parents flew directly to Paris to choose a wedding dress for her. However, from the time they started preparing for the engagement until now, Jade’s parents haven’t shown up. Every time we ask Jade about it, she just says her parents are doing business abroad for a long time, and that it’s fine for our family to make decisions about the engagement. My parents didn’t say much about it. Instead, they felt sorry for Jade, thinking her family didn’t care about such an important event as her wedding. So they paid even more attention to the preparations. When my mom heard my complaint on the phone, she was clearly taken aback. It seemed she didn’t know about this either, but she didn’t want to say much. After all, Jade hadn’t married into the family yet, and as parents, they naturally wanted to consider their future daughter-in-law’s feelings more. So my mom just comforted me: “Aria, don’t be upset. When I get back, I’ll buy you more pretty dresses. Just put up with living in the downstairs room for now, okay?” “But…” I hadn’t finished speaking when my dad transferred $5,000 to my account. My mom said I must be exhausted from my business trip and told me to go out to eat and relax for a while. Since they had gone to such lengths, I didn’t want to trouble them anymore. A moment later, there was a knock at the door. I thought it was my brother, so I grumbled as I went to open it, “What now? I’m packing up to make room for you two!” But when I opened the door, it was Jade. I could see she deliberately touched her belly, as if to remind me she was pregnant. Jade spoke in a gentle tone, or more accurately, in a sickeningly sweet voice: “Aria, I’m sorry for taking your room. Jasper said this room faces the sun and is good for the baby’s growth, so we…” At that moment, I understood. She was clearly just a green tea bitch, wasn’t she? Jasper had always been careless and simple-minded. How could he have considered so much? It was obviously her who wanted to occupy my room. When my parents bought this house, they specifically gave me this room because I studied painting and the lighting was good. Jasper didn’t have any objections. To make it up to Jasper, my parents prepared a gaming room for him. Since she was playing the green tea bitch, it would be easier to deal with her. No need to be polite anymore. I picked up the clothes from the floor and smiled politely at Jade, “If you feel so bad about it, why are you still occupying it?” I deliberately emphasized the word “occupying.” “I didn’t mean it like that…” Jade’s voice was sickly sweet. Men might fall for this act, but I certainly wouldn’t. I snorted and asked, “Forcibly moving in without my knowledge, isn’t that occupying?” “Aria Blackwood, don’t go too far! You’re not pregnant, what’s wrong with living downstairs?” Just as I said this, my brother came up from downstairs. The moment Jade heard my brother’s voice, her eyes instantly turned red. With a thick nasal voice, pretending to be a frightened little rabbit, she pulled on Jasper’s arm, “Jasper, maybe we should move back to your room.” This act of hers made me roll my eyes. Seeing Jade like this, Jasper got even angrier. He pointed at my nose and started yelling, “What’s yours or hers? She’s a girl who will eventually marry out of the family. Jade, you can live in whichever room you want.” As he said this, he pulled Jade into the room and pushed me out by the arm. As the door closed, he said in a fierce tone, “Live there or don’t, I don’t care!” Jasper had never been like this before. Although our relationship had always been lukewarm, it had never been as heated as today. He must be bewitched by Jade! I angrily went downstairs. As I passed through the living room, I glanced at the gift boxes on the table. Well, well, Jade had turned the QR codes on the products towards where she had been sitting, making sure people could see she had scanned them to check the prices. What’s even funnier is that she had taken the most expensive gift box. I was about to go over and take the remaining box of cherries when Jasper stopped me. “Jade wants to eat those cherries. If you want some, go buy your own.” How shameless can they be? These were mine to begin with, and now I have to buy my own if I want to eat them? I ignored Jasper, took the cherries, and went back to my new room. As I closed the door, I muttered in Jasper’s direction, “Buy your own if you want to eat! I’m not here to serve you!”

Over the next few days, Jade started acting up in various ways. When Jasper went to work during the day, she would order me around and even lecture me! She was completely two-faced compared to when Jasper was around. One moment she wanted cake, but only from a specific bakery ten miles away. I wasn’t going to indulge her, so I bought cake from somewhere else. She could take it or leave it! What’s even worse is that she actually threw her and Jasper’s intimate clothes at me, telling me to hand wash them. She even said this was what girls in the family should do, that I was inconsiderate and didn’t know how to share the family’s burdens. I had never been treated like this in my entire life. I immediately threw their intimate clothes back in her face and told her to get lost! Every time this happened, she would start saying I was abusing her, that she was already being mistreated before even marrying into the family, and who knows what would happen in the future. I laughed and retorted, “You’re ordering your sister-in-law around before you’ve even married in. After you marry in, are you going to expect my mom to listen to you too?” Every day when Jasper came home from work, the first thing he did was ask Jade if I had bullied her. What an idiot! I couldn’t be bothered with these two anymore. I just rolled my eyes at them and went straight back to my room, closing the door.

Suddenly one day, Jade said her sister was coming to stay at our house. I had heard Jade mention her sister Emily before. Like me, she studied painting and was still in school, I think. I don’t know if that’s true, as not much of what comes out of Jade’s mouth can be trusted. Of course, I wouldn’t agree to Emily staying at our house. Who knows what her sister would be like, given how Jade is. But Jasper immediately agreed. Two days later, Emily arrived. The young girl looked much more pleasant than Jade, and she was carrying a drawing board. As soon as she saw me, she greeted me with a smile, “Hello, Aria!” After my experience with Jade, I was wary of such enthusiastic girls. I just nodded at her coolly, “Hello.” Later, I overheard Jade quietly telling Emily several times, “Use whatever you want in the house. It will all belong to your brother-in-law in the future.” At first, Emily seemed a bit embarrassed and asked her sister in a low voice, “Won’t Aria be unhappy? She doesn’t seem to like getting close to us.” “Hmph!” Jade snorted, looking smug. She patted her belly and said, “What are you afraid of? Your sister is carrying the Blackwood family’s child. Even if she doesn’t like it, she’ll have to put up with me!” Jasper would never imagine that the woman he cherished so much was actually scheming to get his family’s property. Listening to the conversation between the two sisters, I found it a bit amusing. The sister who still had a conscience would soon be taught to be just like Jade.

One evening at dinner, Jade suddenly threw down her fork, crossed her legs, and brought up the topic of the wedding gift money. Jade spoke to Jasper with an air of entitlement: “My parents are doing business abroad. My family’s financial situation is no worse than yours, so both families are respectable. Naturally, the gift money can’t be too little. But my parents said this is just for show, what really matters is how well you treat me.” I could tell this was all just a setup before she made her outrageous demands. I crossed my arms and asked her sarcastically how much she wanted. Jade turned to look at Jasper, smiling and clinging to his arm coquettishly, “How about $50,000 for the bride price? Also, we need to buy a house and put it in my name. After all, it will belong to our baby in the future. Oh, and my dad said it would be best to throw in a car too. The house should preferably be fully furnished.” “Okay, no problem,” Jasper agreed without a second thought. Did he think our parents’ money grew on trees? I couldn’t help but laugh. Jade glared at me and said in a coquettish tone, “What are you laughing at?” I said, “I’m laughing at how delusional you are. Who do you think you are to demand a house and a car? My brother already has a house, which our parents prepared as your marital home. It’s already furnished, and you can move in anytime. As for the car, my brother has one too. Whether he transfers it to your name is between you two. Stop trying to calculate how to get my parents’ money!” Hearing my words, Jade immediately became unhappy. “Jasper, what did you promise me before? Now you can’t even handle this small matter of the bride price?” Small matter? Let’s not even talk about the car and the house. Just that $50,000 alone would take my brother ages to earn without relying on our parents. Moreover, Jade, who supposedly only had a high school diploma, would be lucky if a factory even considered hiring her, yet she had so many demands. It made me wonder if her parents were really legitimate businesspeople. What kind of proper parents would be so indifferent to their daughter’s marriage? Jasper hurriedly tried to appease Jade and told me to keep quiet. But I insisted on speaking, “It’s better for both sets of parents to meet and discuss such important matters as marriage. We young people can’t make these decisions. Right, brother?” Jasper was well aware of how our parents handled things. Although they were usually easy-going, there were some principles they stuck to. Even though they hadn’t forcefully requested to meet Jade’s parents, the two elders were still concerned about it. Jasper had nothing to say to that. Jade then promised that once her parents returned to the country, she would arrange for both sets of parents to meet. After dinner, Jade surprisingly brought a plate of fruit to my room. Seeing her smiling face, I knew without thinking that she must be up to no good! I couldn’t be bothered to look at her and continued sitting at my easel, working. I had an art exhibition coming up, so I was quite busy with work. Jade sat down next to me with the fruit, enthusiastically trying to feed me, but I refused. She looked around my room and started trying to get close to me, “Aria, I heard from your brother that you own a riverside apartment, is that right?” I frowned at her, “I advise you, if you don’t want to get cursed out, don’t even think about that apartment!” She laughed awkwardly and continued, “We’re all family, what’s the big deal? Oh, by the way, didn’t you say you don’t have a boyfriend? I have a cousin about your age. Why don’t I introduce you two? He just started working here…” I quickly interrupted her, “I’m not at the point where I need you to introduce me to a boyfriend.” The expression on Jade’s face immediately froze. I ignored her, and seeing that I wasn’t paying attention to her, she left the room cursing, saying I didn’t know what was good for me as she left. I thanked her sarcastically. Did she really think her cousin would be any good, given what she was like? … For the next few days, Jade was unusually well-behaved and even went out occasionally. I felt something wasn’t right. Sure enough, while I was preparing for my art exhibition, I received a call from the property management office. It was about the apartment under my name. They called to say that my place was very noisy at night, often playing music until two or three in the morning. I told them I would go check it out immediately. But when I got home, I couldn’t even open my own front door! The lock had been changed.

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David and Linda Thompson doted on their daughter Emily as if she were the center of their world, but due to an accidental pregnancy, they had a son, Ryan. To make it up to me, they sent me to Phillips Exeter Academy, dressed me in designer clothes, and handed me everything I ever wanted. Ryan, on the other hand, only got my hand-me-downs. Everyone said I was the “rose that bloomed in the projects.” But I dragged my parents to court. If the accusation of neglecting their daughter was proven true, the one caught lying would die instantly. Everyone thought I was crazy, but only I knew the truth: they never needed me. They were always just a family of three. This is a world where every citizen can participate in trials online and vote on the verdict. In the public courtroom, I stood in a moon-white dress, my lips painted bright red, while my parents and younger brother sat beside me in their plain clothes. The contrast couldn’t have been more stark. The live stream comments were relentless in their insults: “Look at the plaintiff, all dressed up! There’s no way she’s being abused!” “I feel so bad for her parents. They can’t even afford decent clothes, yet they put their daughter through college, and now she’s turning on them?” People who knew my parents saw them as obsessed with me. Their Facebook posts were filled with pictures of me, showing off their pride and joy. They scrimped and saved to send me to a prestigious school like Phillips Exeter, while Ryan only went to Jefferson High School. Everyone called me the rose that bloomed in the projects. After I got into Stanford, I even won a National Merit Scholarship in my first semester. Everything I had was because of my parents. But according to the Supreme Constitutional Law, everyone is born equal. If a child suffers severe unfair treatment, they have the right to sue their family. If my claim turned out to be false, I would die instantly, and my organs would be donated. But if the gender bias was proven true, Ryan would die, and my parents would suffer endless misfortune. When they found out I was suing them, their faces were filled with shock. My father, David, furrowed his brow. “Emily, come back to us. There must be a misunderstanding, let’s talk this through. Don’t do anything extreme.” My mother, Linda, broke down crying. “Is it because your college expenses aren’t enough? I’ll find a way to earn more. Please, don’t risk your life! You’re the most important child we have!” The live stream audience started to feel sorry for them. “Oh man, I can’t handle seeing a mom cry. Can we just wrap this up and take down this ungrateful brat?” “I always knew spoiling girls would lead to trouble. This proves it!” I turned my head away, coldly, disgusted by the fake mask they wore. But it wouldn’t last long. “Judge, please proceed,” I said. Seeing that I insisted on going through with the trial, both of my parents’ faces flashed with unease. Suddenly, the mechanical voice of the judge silenced the crowd. “This trial will proceed by extracting six memory segments from both the plaintiff and the defendants at different stages of their lives. The jury will observe these memories from a third-person perspective and vote to determine guilt.”

The trial officially began. The first memory was projected onto the screen. It was the scene when Ryan was just born. My mom, Linda, still looked weak, while my dad, David, anxiously spoke to visiting relatives: “We never planned on having a second child. We only wanted to focus on Emily.” “But Linda had an unexpected pregnancy. By the time we found out, it was too late to have an abortion, so we had to have him.” Ryan was a premature baby and was rushed to the NICU after birth. After they brought him home, my mom made a tough decision and handed Ryan over to Grandpa John and Grandma Susan to raise. They had to work to make ends meet, so they took me—who was already in preschool—with them, while Ryan stayed with my grandparents as an infant. Even though we moved around a lot, I was happy because I stayed close to my parents. Whenever I’d stretch out my arms and yell, “Mommy, pick me up!” Linda would smile and scoop me up, snapping picture after picture of me to show off to everyone. “My precious daughter is a gift from heaven!” she would say. The live stream comments started to blow up: “Wait, gender bias? I think it’s the other way around!” “Ryan got left behind as a baby! How sad is that?” “Exactly, what kid wouldn’t want to be with their parents? Ryan got the short end of the stick.” At that moment, my mom wiped her tears and raised her hand. The judge’s cold, mechanical voice came through: “The defendants request to submit evidence.” My mom, red-eyed, pulled out two photos. In one, I was smiling brightly in my parents’ arms. In the other, Ryan was alone, crying in the apartment where he lived with Grandpa John and Grandma Susan. “We always favored Emily,” she explained, “because we were afraid she’d feel hurt once Ryan came along. So we kept her close, while Ryan… well, even if he cried his heart out, we only visited him once a year.” “No matter what we had, Emily always got the best of it. Ryan only got the leftovers.” The audience became even more emotional: “Poor parents, trying their best. You can’t treat both kids exactly the same, right?” “I can’t believe she’s suing her parents after they sacrificed so much for her. Ungrateful!” As the comments raged on, the first vote came in, and without a doubt, the jury sided with my parents. Seeing they’d won the first round, my mom finally seemed to relax a little. “Emily, please, let’s stop this. We can still go back to the way things were,” she pleaded. “I’m willing to sign a settlement, I won’t hold it against you.” My mom looked at me with desperate eyes. Ryan chimed in urgently, “Sis, please stop this. Everyone knows you’re their favorite. If this trial keeps going, you’ll die! What’s going to happen to Mom and Dad then?” “Wow, I’ve never seen defendants plead like this! She could settle and walk away without facing any consequences!” But I stayed calm and cool, turning to the judge and saying, “Let’s continue.” Because the truth, the real truth, was yet to come.

The next memory was revealed. By the time I was ten, I had already started living at school during the week. That year, during the school’s Spring Play, I danced my heart out on stage. My parents had even taken time off work to watch me perform. When the show ended, I tripped on my long dress but still scrambled up, running toward them with a big, toothy grin, one of my front teeth missing. “Mommy, how did I do?” I asked. But my mom barely paid attention, distracted. “There were too many people on stage. Where were you standing again? I couldn’t tell.” The audience was stunned. “Wait, weren’t they just watching her and smiling? I thought they were really into it!” “Emily was the lead dancer in the front row! I’m nearly blind, and even I could tell it was her. What were her parents watching?” I noticed the brief flicker of discomfort on my parents’ faces, but they quickly recovered. The scene shifted to later that same day. I sat alone in the school cafeteria, eating a cold sandwich, watching as all the other kids were picked up by their parents. I quietly cried into my food. Meanwhile, my parents had taken Ryan to Six Flags to celebrate his seventh birthday. That same week, I scored a 99 on my exam. They barely acknowledged it, telling me to aim for 100. But when Ryan scored 60, they were overjoyed. “That’s my boy! Just a little more effort, and you’ll be doing great. Last time it was 40, and now you’ve jumped up 20 points!” David said proudly. Ryan grinned, puffing his chest. “It’s easy to improve by a few points, but jumping 20? That’s talent. I’ve got way more potential than Emily!” The live stream audience started to shift their tone. “Wow, what a ridiculous comparison. Anyone knows that going from 90 to 100 is much harder.” “And this dad? Praising his son by putting down his daughter? Seriously?” At this point, Ryan got flustered. “It was my birthday! I was just a little kid; of course, my parents wanted to make me happy!” Some people defended him, pointing out that since the parents weren’t around much, it made sense to spoil Ryan a bit on his birthday. Others had different thoughts: “But Emily’s a latchkey kid too!” “Ugh, seeing her cry in the corner breaks my heart.” When the jury voted, many agreed that gender bias existed, and this round went in my favor. The screen now showed a 1-1 tie, and I could see the tension return to my mom’s face. “Emily, your mom and I have always treated you and Ryan equally, but we’re only human. Sometimes it’s impossible to keep things perfectly balanced. Can you forgive us for those moments?” she said, her voice shaky. Her words sparked sympathy again from the viewers. “Yeah, I get it. My oldest always has to give in to the younger one, but I still try to be fair.” “Right, families with multiple kids have so many little conflicts—this doesn’t seem like abuse.” As the conversation quieted, the judge released the third memory segment.

I had already lost two rounds. According to the rule of needing four wins out of six, if I lost the next one, the trial could end in a tie or, worse, a loss for me. But the memory extractor was going in chronological order. We were getting close to the memories of my high school years. There was no way they could win these. My mom, Linda, was growing increasingly anxious, practically begging me now: “Emily, please, stop this! We can’t lose you.” But I just smiled and said, “Mom, didn’t you always say I was the one you loved the most? If that’s true, why are you so afraid of the truth? If you really treated me the same as Ryan, I won’t mind dying for it.” At that moment, the system judge’s cold, robotic voice rang out, asking me if I wanted to proceed with the trial. I nodded firmly, unable to wait any longer to rip away their masks. The parents I had depended on for so long had never truly cared about me. Those hidden scars, those painful truths buried for years, were finally about to be revealed. “Honestly, aside from the Six Flags birthday trip, all the memories show them favoring their daughter. Why is she still pushing this?” “Yeah, she seems pretty calm for someone who might die. Maybe there’s something deeper going on?” The fourth memory segment appeared on the big screen. I was sixteen at the time, having just finished my high school entrance exams. I had grown tall and graceful, my face still soft and innocent, like a newborn lamb. Because I had ranked first in the entire city, I made the local newspaper, and the media even came to interview my family. The reporter asked which school I wanted to attend. I smiled brightly. “I’ve worked so hard so I could get into the best high school, just to stay close to Mom and Dad.” From elementary school to middle school, I had been living on campus, away from home. I longed to spend my high school years living with my parents. Since they worked in the city, my only chance of staying with them was if I could get into Lincoln High School. But after receiving my scholarship and the spotlight faded, my parents enrolled me in Brighton Preparatory School—a private school far out of state. The school was so far away that I wouldn’t be able to come home even once a year. The smile on my face froze. My mom hugged me, crying with tears streaming down her face. “My darling, I don’t want to send you away either, but the teachers say you’re extraordinarily gifted. We can’t let ordinary education hold you back. You’ll get a much better education at Brighton.” Principal George Michaels, a seemingly kind and elderly man in his sixties, met us in his office. He eyed me with sharp scrutiny, saying he recognized my potential and promised to nurture it well. He also assured my parents that my tuition and living expenses would be fully covered. I don’t know what else he whispered to them in hushed voices. But in the end, my parents exchanged satisfied glances and left with smiles on their faces. “What the hell is this old man up to?” “Oh my god, someone stop him!” Suddenly, shocked comments poured into the live stream. Everyone saw what happened next—after my parents left, Principal Michaels closed the door to his office. Then, with a smile still on his face, he walked over to me, ignoring my cries, and reached under my skirt.

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When I got engaged to my boyfriend, his ex-girlfriend, the one he had always held on a pedestal, came back from abroad—and she brought their twins with her. Tearfully, she looked at me and said, “If you hate me, take it out on me, but Raphael and I are truly in love. Besides, we already have children together. I’m sure you don’t want to be the other woman, right?” I laughed. With my height advantage, I looked down at her and said, “First of all, I’m just taking back what’s mine. Second, when I got together with Raphael, you two had already broken up. So really, it’s you, crashing my engagement party, who’s the other woman here.” When I saw Raphael holding his ex, Emma, and their twins, I just smiled. The way Emma looked at me—it was like she was saying, “What are you so proud of? You’re just a side character.” I think she must’ve seen herself as the main character of some old-school romantic drama. She looked plain and, honestly, didn’t seem all that bright either. I mean, what kind of person would throw challenging looks at me during my engagement party? But I knew it was over. There wasn’t going to be a wedding between Raphael and me after this. Raphael looked serious as he said, “Cindy, I’m sorry. The one I’ve always loved is Emma.” The entire banquet hall buzzed with excitement. After all, I was young, beautiful, highly educated, and came from a well-off family—so much better than Raphael’s broke ex, who couldn’t hold a candle to me. Only Raphael’s friends looked at him with admiration, as if they were in awe of his “deep” love. And they stared at me like I was some kind of jilted woman, laughing behind my back. Of course, people flock together with their own kind. I had loved Raphael for years, given him everything willingly. But it only takes a moment to lose all feelings for someone. I slipped off the diamond ring from my finger, tossed it toward him, and casually smiled. “Fine. Let’s settle up, shall we?” Raphael looked confused. “Settle what?” What a ridiculous question. “I’ve managed your company for years. I’ve invested in it. What do you think we’re settling? Do I look like the kind of idiot who works for free out of love?” Raphael hadn’t expected me to be so decisive. He couldn’t even find the words to respond. But his precious Emma—crying as always—stepped forward to defend him. “Miss Carter, you’re so wealthy. The money you invested in Raphael’s business is nothing to you. Why be so particular about it?” Raphael’s friends chimed in, “Exactly, Cindy. You don’t look like someone who’d be upset over a few bucks.” “Maybe she’s just embarrassed after being dumped at her own engagement party.” “…” Raphael, at least, had a shred of decency and told them, “That’s enough, guys.” But Emma continued sobbing, “Miss Carter, if you’re angry, take it out on me. Raphael and I are truly in love, and we already have kids. You don’t want to be the other woman, right?” I couldn’t help but laugh again. She was playing the victim, thinking her poverty gave her the moral high ground, trying to paint me as the villain. What a saint she thought she was. I leaned down, using my height advantage once again. “First of all, I’m just taking back what’s mine. Second, Raphael and I were together after you two had already broken up. So, showing up at my engagement party to wreck it makes you the other woman.” Emma immediately looked like she’d been hit with the world’s greatest injustice, tears flowing even more. Raphael looked torn, ready to defend her. But I cut him off before he could say a word. “Raphael, you should know, I don’t have much patience.”

Sure enough, Raphael caved. We went to an exclusive country club, where I had a private VIP room. Of course, Emma and her twins tagged along. Raphael and I sat across from each other, while Emma kept the kids busy in the corner, occasionally glancing over at us. Raphael started, “Cindy, I’ll pay you back every cent I owe, but right now, I don’t have enough money. Could you—?” “If you don’t have the money, hand over your projects.” If we’re going to end things, we might as well cut ties completely. I could see that my coldness was starting to shatter whatever image Raphael had of me. He stared at me, stunned. Emma, the typical homemaker type who clearly didn’t understand business, jumped up immediately when she heard I wanted his projects. “How can that be? Cindy, those projects belong to Raphael—” Just hearing her voice made me sick. Did she think standing up for him was helping? Wrong. I wasn’t about to play nice. Her voice only reminded me that she was the reason my relationship ended. “Does this concern you?” Emma looked like she’d been punched, her face scrunching up in hurt, as if I was persecuting her. Raphael, of course, wasn’t happy that I talked to his beloved like that. “Cindy, Emma doesn’t know anything about this. There’s no need to speak to her like that.” He turned to Emma and added, “Cindy negotiated all these deals herself. If she wants to take them, it’s only fair.” I laughed at Raphael’s naïveté. “The deals I negotiated? Of course I’m taking those. But I’m talking about your projects.” Raphael looked shocked. “What are you saying?” I chuckled. “You don’t have money, so pay me with your projects. Is that so hard to understand?” Raphael’s face darkened, like he was holding back a lot of anger. “Cindy, do you really have to be this heartless? Can’t we at least stay friends?” Friends? A man who dumped me at my own engagement party wants to be friends? That’s got to be the biggest joke of the century.

In the end, I didn’t just take the projects I’d secured myself. I also took two of Raphael’s most profitable ones. Those two deals alone would net me more than I ever invested in him over the years. Once I had what I wanted, I walked out. As I left, I could still hear Emma’s whimpering complaints and the twins’ cries. I couldn’t care less. My only focus now was turning those projects into cash. For years, I’d been too busy managing Raphael’s affairs to spend time at my own company, CC Corporation. Negotiations went smoothly for most of the projects. One deal I took from Raphael got approved right away. But another required further evaluation. My company didn’t have much overlap with Raphael’s, so they were concerned about whether I had the expertise to handle it. The next morning, I scheduled a meeting with the head of that company—at the same country club, of course. What I didn’t expect was for Daniel Thomas to show up. He was Raphael’s uncle. In all the years I’d been with Raphael, I’d only met him twice—this being the second time. The man had a powerful presence. From the moment I first met him, I felt a little uneasy around him. Just a little. Daniel smiled, graceful and polite, yet somehow still intimidating. “Why aren’t you coming in?” Daniel had the kind of aura that felt spiritual, yet dangerous. Instinct told me this man was trouble. Raphael was his nephew. Was Daniel agreeing to this deal just to get back at me on his nephew’s behalf? I stepped inside and sat across from Daniel, forcing a smile. “Hello, Mr. Thomas.” Daniel’s mood seemed light. “You remember me?” How could I forget someone like him? “Of course. I met you last year when Raphael brought me home for dinner.” Daniel continued to smile. “Seems I made quite an impression. I’m honored.” That’s Daniel for you—charming and friendly on the surface, but I knew I had to stay on guard. He seemed like the type to smile while stabbing you in the back.

I wasn’t going to take this deal. Not because I was scared, but because I knew when to cut my losses. Before Daniel could make his move, I decided to strike first and back out. “Mr. Thomas, I’m sure you know about everything that happened between Raphael and me. I think it’s best if we don’t work together.” Daniel casually asked, “Why?” Was he really asking? Didn’t he know? “And why are you trying to work with me?” Isn’t it obvious? He’s doing it to get revenge for his nephew. Daniel locked eyes with me. “For you.” I was stunned—not just by his words, but by the way he was looking at me. The raw desire in his eyes made it hard for me to breathe. I couldn’t quite grasp what those three words meant. “What do you mean?” Daniel sat up straighter, smiling with that unsettling charm. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m pursuing you.” His voice was smooth, full of flirtation. Goosebumps spread over my skin. I’d just broken up with his nephew, and now he was coming after me? Who would believe that? I was furious, thinking Daniel must’ve been playing me for a fool. “Daniel, do you think I’m that easy to trick?” Daniel’s gaze shifted to one of admiration, as though my anger amused him. “I’m not lying to you,” he said calmly. I clenched my fists, trying to stay composed. “We’ve only met twice.” “Who says I can’t fall in love at first sight?” Daniel’s tone was so casual, and his expression so unreadable, that I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or just messing with me. My anger shielded me from any intimidation at that point. I shot back, “I was still Raphael’s girlfriend at the time. You fell for your future niece?” “Is that a problem? I’m only pursuing you after you two broke up. I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong.” He spoke so naturally, as if he was the one in the right. But I wasn’t buying it. This whole situation was too sudden, too suspicious. I couldn’t let my guard down. “I don’t like you…” “And that’s why I’m pursuing you.” Daniel cut me off, his voice unwavering. “This deal was just a way for me to get closer to you. If it bothers you, we can cancel the deal. But my pursuit? That’s not going to stop.” He seemed determined, as if he truly meant it. For now, I decided to put the deal on hold. I stood up. “I think we’re done for today. I’ve got other things to take care of.” I gave him a nod and started walking out. Just as I reached the door, Daniel called out to me. “Cindy.” I turned to face him. He stood up and walked toward me. Daniel was even taller than Raphael, easily over six feet, and his presence was overwhelming. The closer he got, the more I felt that familiar sense of pressure. I hated being at a disadvantage. I tilted my chin up. “What do you want?” Daniel stopped in front of me. I could smell the faint, pleasant scent of his cologne, though I couldn’t place what it was exactly. He asked, “How am I worse than Raphael?” Daniel actually asked me that. So, he was human after all. “To be honest, you’re better than Raphael in every way.” Raphael wasn’t my boyfriend anymore, so there was no need for me to be biased. Daniel pressed on. “Then why don’t you like me?” His questions were starting to feel like an endless loop of frustration. I laid it out plainly. “Daniel, I think you’re just trying to get back at me for Raphael.”

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As I was cleaning the room over the weekend, I swept under the bed and found a wrapper. Any adult would know what it was. Mia and I had been trying for a baby for over two months without using any protection, so there’s no way that thing was mine. I looked at the wrapper closely—it was clearly used recently. A terrible thought exploded in my mind: Was Mia cheating on me? I found a cigarette butt in the trash can in our bathroom, and I don’t smoke. My wife, Mia, hates the smell of cigarettes—so who smoked it? We hadn’t had any guests over recently. Holding the cigarette butt, I asked Mia who had been here. She stammered, saying it might have been left by the guy who came to fix the water heater. Our water heater had been broken for a while, and it was indeed fixed recently, so I didn’t think much of it at the time. But then, over the weekend, while cleaning, I found a wrapper under the bed. Any adult would know what it was. Mia and I had been trying to have a baby for two months without protection. So, this contraceptive wrapper wasn’t mine. I looked at it again—it was obviously used recently. That horrible thought resurfaced: Was Mia cheating on me? I didn’t confront her right away. With work keeping me so busy, I hadn’t spent much time with her lately, and things between us had become tense. I wanted to believe this was all just a misunderstanding. The next day, I took a day off from work and sent Mia out to hang with her friends on purpose. I called the home appliance repair company, claiming our water heater was broken again, and requested the same guy who had come last time. About fifteen minutes later, he arrived—a tall, clean-cut young man. He smiled confidently as he came in. I led him to the bathroom and, as a test, I pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered him one. To my surprise, he immediately pushed it away, saying, “Sorry, man, I don’t smoke.” I was stunned, but more than that, I was suspicious. The cigarette butt in the trash hadn’t come from him. Mia had lied to me. He checked the water heater and told me nothing was wrong. I mumbled some excuse and sent him on his way. He was polite, but as he was leaving, he said something that completely threw me off: “Hope you’re feeling better, man. Your wife’s been worried about you.” Feeling better? What was he talking about? I pulled him back inside and asked more questions. He told me that when he was here a few days ago, he heard a man coughing in the bedroom. Mia had said it was me—she told him I had a fever and was resting. My mind reeled in shock. That night, I wasn’t even home. I had been working late and didn’t get back until after midnight. So, whoever that man was, it wasn’t me. I asked if he had seen the man’s face. He shook his head. I handed him $500 and told him to keep this between us. I rushed to the nearest Best Buy and bought a hidden camera, planning to gather evidence. I looked all over the bedroom for a good spot, and finally, I noticed the gap between some suitcases on top of the wardrobe—a perfect place to hide the camera. As I stood on a chair, ready to install the camera, I spotted something strange in the gap. I reached in and pulled out a hidden camera—one much more sophisticated than mine. Who had put this here? And when? Someone had been spying on me and Mia. A flood of questions raced through my mind. I didn’t want to alert anyone, so I carefully put the camera back. At that moment, my phone rang. It was Mia. She purred into the phone, “Hey honey, are you home? Are you heading back to work this afternoon?” Why was she asking? Could it be that she was planning to bring her lover to our house? I calmly answered, “No, I just left for work. You’ll have to grab lunch by yourself.” She sighed and hung up. I decided to stay hidden at home and catch them red-handed. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a knife, just in case. Around noon, I heard Mia’s laughter outside the door. I peered through the peephole. Mia was all dressed up—heavy makeup, a revealing outfit—and she was clinging to a man I recognized all too well: Randy Johnson, my coworker. Randy was the type of guy who flirted with half the women in the office. Everyone knew about his affairs. He and I were cordial, but nothing more. But how did he end up with Mia? They were standing so close, his arm around her waist, looking more intimate than I could handle. Inside, I was boiling with rage, gripping the knife so tightly my palms were sweaty. My whole body trembled as I fought the urge to run out and tear them apart. But I held myself back. Instead, I pulled out my phone to take pictures as evidence. Just as I clicked the camera, the shutter sound went off loudly. They might not have heard it, but I panicked and dropped the knife on the tiled floor, which made a sharp, echoing noise. Immediately, they stopped talking. I ran to the kitchen and pretended to be busy. A minute later, Mia slowly opened the door and, hearing me in the kitchen, came to check on me. Seeing me chopping vegetables, she asked cautiously, “Honey, I thought you went to work?” I smiled and said, “I heard you sounded a bit down on the phone, so I figured I’d make you lunch before heading back to work.” But inside, I was thinking: You lying cheat, did I ruin your little plan? Mia wrapped her arms around me from behind, whispering about how lucky she was to have me, saying she was the happiest woman in the world. I swallowed my disgust and played along.

The entire afternoon, I couldn’t stop thinking about how I would deal with those two. I knew I needed solid evidence of their affair. I checked the photos I had taken through the peephole, but they were too blurry to identify anyone. That night, Mia went to take her usual bath. Oddly enough, this time, she didn’t bring her phone with her. The screen was blinking with notifications, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be some incriminating messages. While she was in the shower, I picked up her phone. Her password was her birthday, so I easily unlocked it. I opened WhatsApp and saw a few unread messages from Randy. I hesitated. If I read them, would Mia know? But I couldn’t stop myself. I clicked them open. What I found left me stunned. They had started seeing each other two months ago—right after that company dinner, when Mia had attended as my plus-one. I couldn’t believe it. They had only met once before hooking up, and for the thrill of it, they had done it right here in my home. And they had timed it around when I got off work. It was a complete betrayal of everything I believed. But what shocked me more was that they had a plan. Before Mia and I got married, we had signed a fidelity agreement stating that if either of us cheated, the guilty party would leave the marriage with nothing. All our assets, the house, the cars—they were all paid for by me. Mia was planning to take everything. And it was her idea. Randy had agreed to help her pull it off. They even had a lengthy video call discussing it. What was Randy going to do for her? Were they plotting something even bigger? I had kept myself faithful to this marriage, barely interacting with the cleaning lady, let alone having an affair. How did Randy plan to frame me? I scrolled further through their chat and discovered that the hidden camera in the bedroom had been planted by Mia, following Randy’s instructions. I checked Mia’s spending history and found that they regularly booked rooms at the same Hilton Hotel. When Mia got out of the shower, I put her phone back and carefully observed her reaction when she picked it up. She seemed unaware that I had gone through it. Over the next few days, I continued to go to work as usual. Every time I saw Randy was missing from the office, I pretended to be sick and took the day off, spending my time staking out the hotel, taking pictures to gather more evidence. What I discovered was shocking. Randy wasn’t just cheating with Mia—he brought a different woman to the hotel each time. The guy was a total scumbag. After about a week, I had enough evidence, but I wasn’t ready to confront Mia or file for divorce yet. I had a plan to make Randy suffer first.

One morning, I arrived at work, and Randy was already there, smiling and greeting me like nothing had happened. He looked so innocent, it was disgusting. He had been sleeping with our overweight boss, Mrs. Smith—everyone knew it. She had made advances toward me in the past, but I had rejected her, which had led to her giving me a hard time at work. Lately, Randy’s workload had mysteriously lightened, even though he often showed up late, left early, or skipped days entirely. And yet, he was still being considered for Employee of the Month. It had to be because of his relationship with Mrs. Smith. I couldn’t believe he was willing to go that far for success. Mrs. Smith’s husband was notoriously strict with her. He would stop by the office unannounced to keep an eye on her, and Randy and Mrs. Smith would sneak off to the stairwell for their rendezvous. One day, I managed to snap some photos of them together. I also had pictures of Randy from the hotel with her. Once I had everything ready, I anonymously sent all the photos to Mr. Smith—showing them hugging, kissing, the whole disgusting affair. The very next day, Mr. Smith stormed into the office with several big guys in tow. Randy, sensing danger, tried to run, but he didn’t get far. The men grabbed him and beat him so badly he was spitting blood. A few coworkers threatened to call the police, so they finally stopped. Mrs. Smith, terrified, hid in her office but was soon dragged out by her furious husband. After the chaos, I helped Randy up, pretending to be concerned. Seeing him bruised and barely able to stand was deeply satisfying. That evening, back at home, Mia casually asked, “I heard Randy got beaten up at work. How is he?” I held back a laugh. It was clear she had heard from Randy himself. “Yeah,” I said, “apparently he was hooking up with our boss, and her husband found out. He came in and beat him up.” As I told her this, I watched her closely. Her expression didn’t change much, which made me wonder—did she know about Randy’s other affairs? If she did and still stayed with him, well, that just proved the old saying true: “Birds of a feather flock together.” After dinner, I got up to do the dishes, but Mia stopped me, saying I had been working too hard lately and that she’d take care of them. I found it odd. She hadn’t offered to do this in a while. As I sat back down, I noticed her phone lighting up with a notification. I clicked on it—it was a message from Randy. Their previous chat history was gone. Had she deleted it because she knew I had checked? But the message made my blood run cold: “I got my test results. I have HIV.”

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Mrs. Miller pointed at my nose and said that I was trash, and her son was the only one who didn’t mind. Mr. Miller made it clear: if I was pregnant with a boy, they’d be willing to take me in. But if it was a girl, there was no way they’d let me marry into the family. I laughed. “Didn’t you want a grandson? Go look for one underground.” John and I had been dating for three years. We were introduced through our families. The person who introduced us said that John was honest, decent-looking, and his character was outstanding. I met him, and sure enough, he spoke well and wasn’t unattractive. After spending some time together, I found he was quite considerate, so I agreed to start dating him. For the past three years, John treated me well. He had plenty of flaws, but none that I couldn’t tolerate. What I couldn’t stand was how much he listened to his mom. If she told him what time to get up, he wouldn’t sleep a minute longer. But he promised me that he’d work on breaking that habit. After three years, both of our families arranged to meet and discuss marriage. I thought about it and agreed—it was time to settle down. But just a month after we got engaged, I found out I was pregnant. I stared at the two lines on the pregnancy test, lost in thought. We’d been careful all these years, never had any accidents. I told John about it, and he was thrilled. But his excitement didn’t seem like the joy of someone about to become a father. “I’ve got to call my parents right away,” he said. I nodded, not thinking much of it. It made sense to tell his parents, so I picked up my phone, unsure how to break the news to mine. Even though we were already engaged, we hadn’t officially gotten married yet, and none of the wedding details had been finalized. Meanwhile, John had already called his parents. The first thing he said was, “Mom, Olivia is pregnant. We’re expecting.” His mother immediately responded with a sigh of relief, “Finally, it happened.”

What did she mean by “finally”? I stared at John, confused. He looked flustered and quickly said into the phone, “Mom, Olivia is right here.” He was video chatting with his parents, so I didn’t say anything. When he hung up, I asked, “What did your mom mean by ‘finally’?” John wrapped his arm around my waist with a laugh. “What do you think she meant? She’s just happy. She’s been waiting for a grandkid, that’s all.” His words stung a little. I pushed his arm away. “It’s not necessarily a boy. What if it’s a girl? Is that a problem?” John realized his mistake and quickly tried to comfort me. “Of course not! Boys, girls—they’re all the same. Honestly, it’d be perfect if we had one of each.” Something about the situation didn’t sit right with me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Later, when John went to make dinner, I called my parents to tell them the news. They were a little surprised, but after thinking it over, they didn’t scold me. After all, we were already engaged, and the wedding was just a matter of time. They only told us to come home and finalize the wedding details quickly. “You don’t want to be walking down the aisle with a big belly,” my mom said. I understood what they meant. It wouldn’t look good in front of all the relatives. When I talked it over with John, he was hesitant. He made excuses about not being able to take time off and how he was busy with a work project. John was just a regular employee—nothing so urgent that he couldn’t leave for a few days. Besides, what company doesn’t allow time off for a wedding? John kept delaying, and by the time we finally went home, three months had passed. By then, I was already four months pregnant. But because I was skinny and it was winter, no one could really tell. That night, my mom sat next to me, looking concerned. “John didn’t want to come back earlier—do you think they might be planning to reduce the dowry?” I was confused. “What do you mean?” She glanced at my belly. “You’re pregnant now. Do you think they’re trying to use that as an excuse to offer less?” I thought about it. An $8,800 dowry didn’t seem unreasonable, and John’s family wasn’t exactly poor. Besides, I was bringing a dowry of my own into the marriage. “Don’t worry, John isn’t like that.” My mom nodded, but the worry didn’t leave her eyes. That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about how John had delayed our trip home for so long. Now that I was four months along and could no longer get an abortion, he was suddenly in a rush to return. Why? Could my mom be right? Were they trying to avoid paying the dowry? The next morning, John and his parents came over to discuss the wedding. They walked in with an air of superiority, and I frowned slightly. Mrs. Miller nodded at me, her eyes filled with a mix of arrogance and satisfaction. “How’s the baby, Olivia?” “I’m fine,” I replied, sitting next to my parents and saying nothing more. Mr. Miller cleared his throat and started talking. “We all know Olivia is pregnant. Now, we’re a well-educated family, and frankly, we don’t approve of girls who get pregnant before marriage.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. His father actually said that. My dad, who had always been protective of me, couldn’t stay quiet. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” Mr. Miller gave a cold laugh. “It may be harsh, but it’s the truth.” I looked at John. He was sitting next to his mother, head down, avoiding my gaze. “Let’s cut to the chase,” I said. “What are you really trying to say?” Mr. Miller glared at me. “The $8,800 dowry we talked about? We’re not paying it. But we expect you to provide the wedding gifts.” He glanced at my belly. “After all, we’re taking a risk here. We don’t even know if that baby is truly a Miller.” His words made my blood boil. My parents were furious as well, barely able to contain their anger. “John,” I said, turning to him, “is this how you feel too?” He finally lifted his head and met my eyes, speaking softly, “I listen to my parents.” I laughed bitterly. “Great. Just great.” My mom grabbed my arm, trying to calm me down. “How could you say something so disgusting?” she snapped at them. “If you’re so short on money, just say so. You don’t have to insult my daughter like this.” My dad was gripping the table in anger. Mrs. Miller wasn’t backing down. “It’s not an insult. Your daughter did this, so it’s only natural for people to talk.” I shot up from my chair. “I didn’t do this alone! Your son is involved, and you don’t seem to be blaming him for anything!” “John!” I shouted, glaring at the man sitting in the corner. “Say something right now, in front of both our families. Was I the one who forced you to get me pregnant? If that’s what you think, I’ll turn myself in right now.” John stood up shakily, looking between me and his parents. “No, no, of course not. You know that’s not true.” I turned to Mrs. Miller. “Did you hear that?” She didn’t seem fazed. “Well, John is a boy. It’s different for him.” “How is it different? He’s not a human being like I am?” Mrs. Miller stood up, pointing her finger at me, ready to yell, but my dad stepped in between us. “This is my house,” he said firmly. “If you don’t intend to marry Olivia, then leave.” Mr. and Mrs. Miller sneered and laughed. “Fine, we’ll go. But don’t come crawling to us later.” “Hmph.” John hesitated at the door, glancing back at me nervously, but I shot him a look that made him lower his head and leave. As soon as they were gone, my mom started crying. “What are we going to do now?” I looked at my parents, who were being dragged into this mess because of me, and my heart ached. But I held back my tears. Now was not the time to cry. If I broke down, my parents would only worry more. “Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. I’ll go get an abortion tomorrow.”

My mom immediately protested. “No, you can’t! I’ve heard that getting an abortion this far along can harm your body. You might not be able to have kids again.” I sat down, trying to stay calm. “I’ll go to the hospital and talk to the doctor. If I can’t get an abortion, I’ll have the baby and raise it myself.” My dad sighed. “We can talk to the Millers again tomorrow. If they don’t want to pay the dowry, that’s fine. We don’t need their money.” With that, he went back into the house. My mom held my hand tightly. “Your father has always been a proud man. He’s just upset. Once he calms down, we’ll talk to the Millers again.” That night, no matter how many messages John sent me, I didn’t reply. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep until dawn. When I finally woke up, my mom was the only one in the kitchen, making breakfast. Then I remembered—my dad had said he’d go to the Millers’ house last night. It was already noon, and he still wasn’t back. “Don’t worry,” my mom said, trying to reassure me. “If things didn’t go well, he would’ve come home by now.” But I couldn’t shake the anxiety. What if they were giving my dad a hard time? “I’m going to find him,” I said, grabbing my coat. Just as I opened the door, I saw my dad standing there. His face was full of worry, but when he saw me, he forced a smile. “Where are you off to?” “Dad, why were you gone so long? Did they give you trouble?” He hesitated before answering, “No, no trouble. Just talking about the wedding.” My mom hurried over. “So? What did they say?” My dad closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “They said we have to wait until Olivia gives birth. If it’s a boy, then they’ll agree to the marriage.” “What?” My mom and I both shouted in unison. “This is outrageous,” my mom fumed, throwing her dish towel on the floor. “Do they think their son is a god or something?” I felt dizzy, my vision going black for a moment. How could everything I’d dreamed of—the wedding, the marriage—turn into this nightmare? I wobbled on my feet, and my mom rushed over to steady me. “Olivia, should we go to the hospital?” I suddenly remembered what John and his mother had said that day—finally pregnant. So this had all been part of their plan from the start.

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I received a call from the police, saying they needed my cooperation in an investigation. Was this some kind of scam call? “Yes, I went to Thailand. I used my card to buy an elephant,” I replied dismissively before hanging up. Not long after, the phone rang again. It was the same number. “This isn’t a scam call. We mainly want to inquire about Mr. Zachary Walsh’s disappearance,” the voice said. Are scammers getting this thorough now? They even know about my good-for-nothing husband who never comes home? Then I heard him continue, “We received a missing person report from his wife, stating that Mr. Walsh disappeared after meeting with you.” Wait, his wife? Confused, I rummaged through my things to find our marriage certificate. Looking at the official seal, I wondered aloud, “Then who am I?” When the police came to my door again, they didn’t just talk to me there. Instead, they asked me to come to the station for questioning. When I arrived, I saw a young, pretty pregnant woman sitting in a chair outside. She was so thin that if she hadn’t been wearing maternity clothes, you wouldn’t have known she was pregnant. Next to her, constantly comforting her, was a middle-aged woman who bore some resemblance to Zachary. Coincidentally, I knew both of them. One was Zachary’s aunt, and the other was the homewrecker who had ruined my marriage. Sophie Jenkins jumped up when she saw me, pointing and yelling, “It was you, wasn’t it? You wanted more money and didn’t want to divorce him, so you did something to my husband! Otherwise, how could he just disappear without a trace?” How ridiculous. Although Zachary and I were discussing divorce, we hadn’t even signed the papers yet. And she was already calling him her husband. “Don’t want a divorce? I married that man because I was blind. Only someone like you would treat him like a treasure. You two deserve each other,” I shot back, refusing to back down. “You accuse me of harming him? Why don’t you look at yourself? If I remember correctly, Zachary didn’t put a single thing he gave you in your name, right? And he never gave you more than $1000 at a time, did he?” I knew all too well how stingy Zachary was as a man. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to be his mistress. “You’re not very good at being a mistress, are you? Everything he gave you, he can take back whenever he wants. Even if you managed to become the official wife, he’d still toss you aside when he’s done with you.” At this point, Zachary’s aunt, Zoe, tried to intervene. “We’re all family here. Why are you fighting like this? The most important thing right now is to find Zachary. You can’t get divorced if he’s not here, right, Rachel?” I gave her a cold, mocking smile. Only Aunt Zoe could say such nonsense. When my in-laws were on their deathbeds, I was running around taking care of everything. Not a single person told me that Zachary was out there with a mistress. The whole family treated me like a fool. Back then, when I wanted to hire professional caregivers for my in-laws, how did Aunt Zoe try to persuade me against it? She said, “Rachel, dear, it’s best to take care of your own family members. You don’t know how scary it is these days. There are so many stories online about caregivers abusing the elderly.” I replied, “I’ll visit my parents-in-law every day after work. They’re in the hospital, so nothing like that will happen.” Aunt Zoe then put on a sour face and said, quite unhappily, “Rachel, I don’t mean to criticize you, but you’ve already failed to give Zachary children. Now that his parents are sick and need you, how can you not take care of them yourself? You’re his wife, you’re one unit.” Back then, I didn’t realize how ridiculous Aunt Zoe’s words were. I even thought she had a point. Now, looking back, it’s absurd. I retorted, “Listen to yourself. Is that how a human being talks? Before Zachary disappeared, every time you said we were family, it was to convince him to leave me with nothing. Now that he’s gone and you realize you can’t get anything, suddenly I’m family again? Do I look like some kind of pushover to you?” Aunt Zoe’s face turned ashen. She tried to pull the elder card on me again, like she used to. I wasn’t falling for it anymore. “Enough. Don’t bother with this act. You can’t even manage your own son, and now you’re trying to meddle in my life when Zachary and I are already estranged? What are you, the world police?” At this point, the female detective from earlier and a few other officers came to break up the argument. Aunt Zoe and Sophie didn’t dare to make a scene anymore. They could only watch as Detective Miller and I walked into the interview room. Detective Edwards and a young officer I hadn’t seen before, who seemed to have a perpetual scowl, were there to question me. Detective Edwards informed me, “We found Mr. Walsh’s fishing gear downstream in the reservoir. We suspect he might have fallen into the water and had an accident.” I couldn’t help but laugh. The scowling young officer said, “This is serious! We’re talking about a man’s life here.” I replied, “I’m sorry, officer, but as you know, I’m a woman whose marriage was betrayed. The mistress is right outside with a baby bump. If it were anyone else, I’d be worried and concerned. But when it comes to Zachary Walsh, I hope he’s dead already.” Detective Edwards calmed down the young officer and handed me some photos. “This is what we wanted to discuss. According to our investigation, you were also near Linjiang Reservoir last Friday. Security cameras near Linjiang Supermarket caught you on tape. Can you tell us why you were there?” The photos showed me wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses, a face mask, a green sun protection shirt, white pants, and sneakers. Coincidentally, I was wearing the exact same outfit today. “I have legs, don’t I? I can go wherever I want,” I replied coldly, my tone somewhat confrontational. The young officer tried to intimidate me, “Ma’am, please answer our questions seriously. This isn’t just a missing person case anymore. If you can’t prove your innocence, we have the right to arrest you.” In reality, they couldn’t, because they had no evidence to prove my guilt. But many ordinary citizens don’t know this, so when the police say things that are half-true, those with guilty consciences might confess. But I had nothing to hide. I didn’t want to waste any more time here, so I told the truth. “I went there to discuss divorce matters with him.” Detective Edwards asked, “Didn’t you and Mr. Walsh already reach an agreement? Why did you need to discuss it again? And why didn’t you say this earlier?” My craving for a cigarette hit me again. I asked Detective Edwards for one and said, “Actually, we hadn’t. Before, he wanted a divorce and I didn’t, so he kept dragging things out. Now, I want a divorce and he doesn’t, so he’s the one dragging his feet.” “Why did Mr. Walsh change his mind?” they asked. I smiled bitterly. “For money, of course.” “At first, he wanted to get rid of me cheaply, and I didn’t agree. Later, I wanted to take what rightfully belonged to me and leave, but he thought it was too much and disagreed.” “So he refused to talk to me, kept stalling, and wouldn’t meet me face to face. When I called, he’d just say one thing.” The scowling officer asked, “What did he say?” “He’d say, ‘I’ll only accept you leaving with nothing. If you agree, we’ll divorce. If not, forget it.’” Detective Edwards asked, “And Sophie Jenkins was okay with this situation? Her baby must be about six months along now.” I laughed mockingly. “What could she do about it? I built this business with Zachary. I only stepped back from the company because I had to take care of his dying parents. That’s why I lost so much control and ended up in this situation.” “I have the means and ability to fight Zachary. As long as he still cares about his reputation and doesn’t want to be shunned by his business partners, he has to deal with me, no matter how annoying it is.” “But what leverage does that whore outside have? The baby in her belly? I couldn’t have children before, but when I couldn’t give birth, didn’t he just find another woman to have a kid with? Everything she has, Zachary can take back whenever he wants. He’s just deluding himself, thinking he’s in love with her. Are you satisfied with this explanation?” “Answer what we ask, don’t try to deflect. How did you know Zachary would be there? Did he tell you? Did you see him?” The scowling officer tapped the table. I gave him an OK sign. “Of course he didn’t tell me. The mistress told me. But I didn’t see Zachary either. He didn’t want to meet me. Sophie was afraid Zachary would come after her, so she only told me his general location.” She was desperate to become the official wife but couldn’t get Zachary to budge, so she tried to work through me. “We heard from Ms. Jenkins that you had blocked her. How did she tell you?” they asked. “Public phone. All the calls taunting me to hurry up and divorce Zachary came from public phones.” I opened my call log on my phone to show them. Indeed, there was a 5-minute call from a public phone the day before Zachary disappeared. “Instead of suspecting me and questioning me all the time, why don’t you ask Sophie Jenkins? Maybe she did something out of jealousy because she couldn’t become the official wife. The first time she came to make a scene, it was with Zachary, you know.” Detective Edwards said, “Tell us more about that.” I smiled, feeling genuinely cheerful for the first time since hearing that Zachary might have met with an accident. “Because at that time, Sophie didn’t know Zachary had me as his legal wife. When she found out, of course she went to confront him!”

Soon after, I left the police station. I didn’t know that Detective Edwards and his team had a discussion about this case. Detective Edwards asked, “What do you think, sir? Can we trust her?” Detective Thompson shook his head, then nodded. “Rachel Quinn is different from Sophie Jenkins. She has very high psychological resilience. She’s definitely hiding something. Her words are half-truths and half-lies. We can only believe about half of what she says.” The scowling officer, Detective Wilson, said, “In my opinion, we should lock her up and interrogate her repeatedly. It won’t take long before we know exactly what she’s hiding.” Detective Miller scolded him, “Are you trying to get us all fired? Don’t drag us into your misconduct!” Then she turned and pulled out some documents. “Uncle Thompson, according to our investigation, Sophie Jenkins is also hiding something and has a motive for committing a crime.” This piqued everyone’s interest. What motive could a soon-to-be-official mistress have? Could it really be a crime of passion? “The phone records Rachel Quinn gave us show that Sophie Jenkins did indeed use a public phone to call and taunt her the day before, and told her about Zachary Walsh’s plans for the next day.” “We confirmed this from the surveillance cameras near the phone booth. As for the other things Rachel mentioned, including property and car titles, it’s true that none of them are in Sophie’s name. We also found many compromising photos of Sophie on Zachary’s phone, suggesting he might have used them to blackmail her.” “I discovered something else during the investigation,” Detective Miller continued. Detective Thompson gestured for her to go on. “When the Walshes were still happily married, they sponsored many students. Sophie Jenkins was one of them. At first, she was genuinely deceived by Zachary. Many neighbors know about this incident.” Detective Wilson said to Detective Edwards, “The case seems to have become more complicated.” Detective Edwards smiled. “Actually, the case isn’t that complicated. What’s complicated is the human heart.” Detective Thompson made a decision. “Alright, let’s question Sophie Jenkins next.” When I got home, I looked around the empty house and sank comfortably into the couch. Everything belonging to the second person in this house had long been cleared out. Now, this house that Zachary and I had shared after our marriage was no different from the home of any single woman. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Irritated, I dragged myself up to look through the peephole. It was Zachary’s cousin, Zack Walsh. I opened the inner door but left the outer security door locked. At this point, I had zero goodwill towards anyone in the Walsh family and didn’t want to let them set foot in my house. “Sister-in-law!” Zack greeted me enthusiastically, then tried to come in. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” “No,” I said flatly, with no intention of playing host. “I don’t deserve to be called your sister-in-law or a member of the Walsh family. Let’s cut the pleasantries. What are you here for?” When Zachary’s parents were critically ill, Aunt Zoe hadn’t contributed a penny or lifted a finger to help. But as soon as the old couple passed away, she brought her son to demand money. That’s why our two families had a falling out long ago. She stood in front of the coffins with a tattered notebook, itemizing everything—how much more money her parents had given her brother when they divided the family assets, what things Zachary’s parents had borrowed from her after the wedding. Finally, in front of everyone at the funeral, she said, “You’re my nephew’s wife, so I won’t be too hard on you. Back then, when times were tough for everyone, I couldn’t bring myself to ask. Then when my poor brother fell ill, I couldn’t say anything either.” “Now that you’re doing well, it’s time to settle these accounts. I won’t ask for too much. Just pay me back based on the current value after the relocation compensation, and we’ll call it even.” Someone couldn’t stand it anymore and spoke up. “Zoe Walsh, what kind of person are you? You didn’t say a word all these years, and now that your brother is dead and not even buried yet, you’re forcing your nephew’s wife to pay up. What kind of logic is that?” Aunt Zoe shot back, “Mind your own business, Zhang! This is a family matter. It’s none of your concern!” Then she turned back to me and said, “I came to help as soon as your in-laws passed away. You’re a respectable person, daughter-in-law. Don’t try to weasel out of this debt!” By that time, I already knew about Zachary’s affair. Even at the funeral, we were like strangers, not exchanging a single word. Seeing Aunt Zoe’s greedy expression made me even more disgusted. “If you think Grandpa and Grandma shortchanged you back then, go ask them about it,” I said coldly. Aunt Zoe immediately became upset. She raised her voice at the funeral, “Everyone here knows that I got less than my fair share back then. My brother knew it too. Now he’s not even in the ground yet, and you’re already denying it!” Zack also got angry. “Sister-in-law, I’ve always been polite to you. Now that you and Zachary are doing well, you won’t even help out family? Not even paying back what you owe? What’s that about?” Zachary, who had been greeting guests outside, finally came in. He arrived just in time to hear these words. “Debt? What debt? Do you have any evidence? Any IOUs? Haven’t I helped you before? You’re just a hopeless case, and you have the nerve to make a scene!” Zack immediately shouted back, “You helped me? You just look down on me. You have such a big company, but you only let me run errands. Meanwhile, you’re living the high life and even keeping a mistress!” Under the watchful eyes of the onlookers, Zachary’s face turned ashen. Seeing that her son was about to derail the conversation, Aunt Zoe quickly handed over that tattered notebook. “How can you say there’s no evidence? Look, look at this. I’ve kept a detailed record of everything over the years, down to the smallest items. It’s been so hard on me.” “Besides, according to the law, I have inheritance rights to my brother and sister-in-law’s property.” I was really tired of dealing with the Walsh family’s nonsense. I replied, “If you want to talk about the law, then go through the legal process. The company was started by Zachary and me together, and we’re both still alive. Where do you get inheritance rights from?” “If you’re talking about inheriting from my in-laws, they’re lying in coffins right behind us. Go wake them up and have them give you whatever you want. I won’t interfere with their belongings. Whatever they say to give you, I’ll give you.” “As for you saying Grandpa and Grandma gave you less back then, go find the elders who were present when the family divided the assets and have them redistribute everything. I have no objections to that either.” The people around us were trying to hide their smiles. My in-laws were dead, and the grandparents and elders who had been present at the family division had long since passed away. “If you’re not satisfied, then sue me. I have plenty of money to hire lawyers and fight you in court. If I lose the case, I’ll pay whatever the court decides!” Aunt Zoe burst into tears and ran to hug my father-in-law’s coffin. “Brother, you’ve just left us, and your son and daughter-in-law are already disowning me. They’re ganging up to bully us. How did I end up with such a miserable life…” Aunt Zoe’s wailing was giving everyone a headache. I decided I’d done my part and got up to leave. After all, I had a clear conscience. Zachary grabbed my arm. “Where are you going? We still need to send my parents off on their final journey.” At that moment, Aunt Zoe was inside, wailing and cursing, “That woman in your family is cold-hearted. No wonder her husband went out to find a mistress.” Zachary looked a bit embarrassed. I laughed coldly. “Where am I going? To rest, of course! I just didn’t want to argue with you at the funeral today.” “For everything else, go find your mistress and deal with it together!” With that, I went home. I heard from relatives later that Zachary really did bring Sophie Jenkins over. When I heard this news, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. I completely ignored it, just focused on taking inventory of our assets and organizing the company shares. I disappointed many people who were hoping to see me make a fool of myself. Similarly, Zachary’s behavior made many of his business partners refuse to work with him anymore, or at least give him a hard time behind the scenes. Only then did Zachary start to behave himself a bit more. So I’ve long known what this family is like. Zack coming to visit me today was definitely up to no good. Hearing my unfriendly tone, Zack put on an angry face. “Don’t be so stubborn. You know what you did. If you still want to live comfortably as a rich woman, you’d better listen to me and give me what I’m owed.” “Keep dreaming. I’ll say it again: if you want to sue, I’ll see you in court.” Zack suddenly gave a strange smile and said in a low voice, “I saw it, you know!” I laughed, exasperated. Zack and Zachary were cut from the same cloth—one a gambler, one a womanizer. I must have been crazy to waste my breath talking to him. “Bang!” I slammed the door in his face. Soon after, I heard cursing from outside the door. “Damn it! Rachel Quinn, you murderer! You’ll regret this! I’m going to report you!” Not long after, I was called to the police station again. But unlike the previous polite conversation, this time I got the treatment that suspects in TV shows usually get. “Rachel Quinn, we’ve received a report that you killed Zachary Walsh. Do you have anything to say about this?” Detective Thompson asked. This time, Detective Thompson and the scowling young officer, Detective Wilson, were questioning me. “A report? Was it Zack Walsh who reported it? He’s just a gambler who would do anything for money. You can’t trust what he says.” I looked at them. “Besides, you don’t have any evidence, and you haven’t issued an arrest warrant. I could sue you for unlawful detention.” Detective Thompson suddenly said, “You probably don’t know yet. We found Zachary Walsh’s body.” Detective Wilson said sarcastically and triumphantly, “We’ve seen plenty of people like you. You’d better tell us everything. Don’t try to hide anything!” The person who reported it wasn’t Zack Walsh. At that time, he was just making threats outside my door. Linjiang Reservoir used to be Linjiang Village. Ten years ago, the government relocated us villagers to Linjiang City to build the reservoir. The villagers and graves were all moved, and the original site became the reservoir area. Well, not all the graves were moved. Many young people from the village had gone to work in big cities. When they made it big, they brought their elderly parents to live with them in the cities. They were too busy with work to move the family graves, so they just swore they would come back every year to tend to the graves. But how could they tend to graves at the bottom of a reservoir? The young people had no choice but to learn how to scuba dive. This year, a young man brought his wife to dive and pay respects to his ancestors. When they went down, they saw Zachary Walsh’s body floating in the water. This news spread quickly. Combined with people hearing about Zack Walsh coming to my door to make a scene, someone reported me and had me arrested. Of course, the two officers didn’t have the kindness to tell me these details. At this point, I didn’t know where exactly the body had been found. “I thought Zack Walsh would keep using this to extort money from me. I didn’t expect him to report it to the police so quickly. If he had been this decisive before, he might have made his fortune already.” Detective Wilson frowned, seeming to want to say something, but Detective Thompson stopped him. “So you admit that you killed Zachary Walsh, right?” “Yes,” I smiled and asked them for a cigarette, slowly confessing the process. After we relocated, Zachary and I used the money to start a small business, contracting landscaping work for residential communities one by one. When the business became somewhat successful, Zachary liked to go fishing at Linjiang Reservoir. His favorite spot was a hill that used to be popular with kids in the old Linjiang Village. This hill used to overlook the entire Linjiang Village, but now it only saw water. He particularly liked this place. Only the Walsh family knew about this. So when Sophie Jenkins called me, I knew Zachary would definitely come to this spot to fish. That’s why what I said earlier about not seeing Zachary was a lie. I did see him, and we got into an argument. That day, he seemed strange, not feeling well, chewing on something in his mouth. When we were arguing, he bit down and swallowed it. Usually, when we argued, it would end up in a physical fight, leaving both of us bruised and battered. But that day, after we pushed each other a few times, he got impatient and turned away, seeming unwilling to fight with me. Zachary said to me, “When I wanted a divorce before, didn’t you drag it out? Now you want a divorce? Well, I’m going to drag it out. I won’t divorce you!” I said, “Zachary Walsh, you bastard. You cheated on me, and your whole family kept it from me. I was in the dark, taking care of your parents. Now I’m done with this, and you won’t sign the divorce papers. How can you do this? Aren’t you afraid of karmic retribution?” Zachary gloated, “The one who can’t have children is you. Let me tell you, I’ve got a mistress now. In a few months, I’ll have a son. I’ll bring them to live wherever you live. Wherever you move, we’ll move there too!” I was shaking with anger, hating him. “I can’t have children because of whom? I’ll ask you one last time! Are you really not going to sign the papers? Even if we go to court?” He laughed loudly, “You’ve tried taking me to court before, haven’t you? Did the judge grant the divorce? If you take me to court again, I’ll admit my mistakes, I’ll repent, I’ll beg you not to divorce me in front of the judge. You still won’t be able to divorce me! Hahaha!” Zachary finished laughing and said, “This is all because you’re greedy. If it weren’t for the fact that you took such good care of my parents, I wouldn’t even let you keep the house you’re living in now. Since you’re so insatiable, you can leave with nothing!” My anger had reached its peak, and I suddenly felt calm. I looked at him coldly, all the love and feelings I once had for him when we struggled together were gone. Time and again, I watched this man become more and more shameless and unfamiliar. He turned his head and sat on a small stool to fish, not looking at me, seemingly certain that I would leave after our argument like before. But this time, I didn’t. I picked up the fishing rod that had fallen to the ground during our scuffle and hit him hard on the head. Zachary fell to the ground. I threw the rod into the reservoir and turned to leave. When I got home, the first thing I did was find a good lawyer and ask for legal advice. “At that time, I wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead. Indeed, one shouldn’t do things that weigh on their conscience. I never imagined this scene would be witnessed by Zack Walsh. If I were him, I would have reported it to the police directly instead of hiding the body to blackmail me. If I go to jail, wouldn’t all the money be his?” I finished recounting the process of the incident to the two officers while smoking my third cigarette. I thought about how I had wasted my life on this scumbag, and it really wasn’t worth it. Detective Thompson stood up. “We understand the process of what happened. Next, we will charge you with intentional injury.” I was stunned for a moment, not understanding why it was intentional injury and not murder. Zachary had drowned, which meant that after Zack Walsh discovered this, he went to check on Zachary’s condition after I left. Zachary wasn’t dead; he had just passed out. After considering for a while, Zack dragged Zachary into the bushes, waiting for him to die there. That’s why he didn’t dare to report it to the police and wouldn’t have reported it. “If the case could be closed like this, that would be for the best,” Detective Miller sighed deeply. Detective Edwards continued, “According to Zack Walsh’s statement, he only ignored Zachary’s death and didn’t push him into the water.” “Moreover, he said he knew Zachary was there because Sophie Jenkins told him.” Detective Wilson asked, “Could he be lying?” “We did find an abandoned phone at the scene where Zachary was killed, and there were multiple missed calls from Sophie Jenkins on it. If it was just a normal drowning, we could consider that Zachary woke up and fell into the lake due to a concussion. Sigh!” “We need to be rigorous in our investigation,” Detective Thompson, with years of criminal investigation experience, tapped the table to remind everyone not to let their thoughts wander too much. “There are still things we haven’t discovered about this case. First, where did Zachary’s fishing gear go? Second, who pushed Zachary into the reservoir? And third, the time of death.” At this moment, the forensic expert pushed open the door. “The time of death is here!” He handed the report to everyone. “There’s also an interesting thing. There were remnants of sleeping pills and undigested preserved plums in the victim’s stomach.”

I didn’t expect to be summoned for questioning again so soon. At this time, my lawyer was explaining to me how to defend myself. “Ms. Quinn, do you know what Zachary Walsh ate on the day of the incident?” Detective Thompson asked. I found this question strange. “To be honest, by that point in our relationship, I wouldn’t have cared if he ate dirt.” “Did you bring him anything to eat?” I was even more puzzled. “Putting aside why I would bring him anything, do you think he would eat anything I gave him?” “You like to eat preserved plum candy, don’t you? If Zachary had invited you to talk things over and brought you candy, would you have eaten it?” I sighed deeply. I don’t like preserved plum candy, but if he had come to talk things over properly, I probably would have. They let me go again. The source of the sleeping pills was found. It was in the preserved plum candy that Zachary ate before he left. According to Sophie Jenkins’ statement, she had made the candy by hand. Zachary had asked her to make it, intending for me to eat it. He had told her to put it in any food. Recently, Zachary had bought a large accidental death insurance policy for me, which was one of the reasons he was unwilling to divorce. Sophie thought this man was truly terrifying, wanting to kill his wife when their relationship had broken down. But Sophie couldn’t disobey him. When she first realized she had been tricked, she wanted to have an abortion and leave. But Zachary wouldn’t allow it. He threatened her with her private photos. Sophie’s reputation among Zachary’s family and friends was already bad, which was the result of Zachary’s threats. But back in her hometown, her parents still took pride in her. So she had no choice but to endure. So she put sleeping pills in the homemade preserved plum candy. Because she was pregnant and craving sour and sweet things, it wouldn’t arouse Zachary’s suspicion. When Zachary drove alone to go fishing, Sophie called to sweet-talk him into eating the candy. She hoped Zachary would have an accident on the way due to the effects of the drug. Because if anything happened to Zachary, she wouldn’t have to live with a guilty conscience. If Zachary died, that would be even better. She wouldn’t have to endure a despicable man without dignity, wouldn’t have to worry about being controlled without financial freedom, work freedom, or social freedom, and wouldn’t have to constantly fear being abandoned when she had nothing. She casually told Zack Walsh that Zachary would come into some money soon, and informed him of Zachary’s recent schedule. Zack Walsh, who had no money and was deeply in debt, would definitely go find Zachary. This way, he would be the first to discover Zachary, whether alive or dead. No matter what state Zachary was in, Zack Walsh would notify her. Because notifying her might get him money, but notifying me would definitely not get him any money. But what she didn’t expect was that Zachary disappeared. So Sophie lived in constant fear and anxiety, waiting for judgment. She was afraid he was alive, and afraid he was dead. She was worried that not reporting it would make her suspicious, so she was the first to file a police report, and desperately tried to frame me. Because she knew that no matter whether Zack Walsh went to find Zachary or not, I would definitely go. Sophie was also charged with responsibility. When I heard this news, I laughed coldly but didn’t say much. But the case wasn’t over yet. Both Sophie and I had motives, but according to our statements, neither of us committed the crime. Because Zachary didn’t just drown; there was more to it.

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On my birthday, I was lying at home with a high fever while my girlfriend was at the hospital, carefully tending to her depressed ex-boyfriend. She coldly hung up on my call and sent a message, “Why are you pretending to be sick? You’re a grown man.” After three years of marriage, she was attentive to her ex but indifferent to me, her husband. Later, I finally realized that a woman whose heart you can’t warm should be let go. I chose divorce and even tried to bring them together. But she regretted it and spent a night crouched outside my door, just begging me to look at her one more time. “You know Ethan is very fragile right now. Why did you lie to me about coming home?” Olivia’s voice was filled with impatience over the phone. “And you say you have a high fever? How can a grown man like you get sick so easily? Can you stop being so childish?” I could almost imagine her expression of disgust, disdain, and even contempt. Breathing heavily, I endured the pain throughout my body. I was full of anger, but when I opened my mouth, I felt like I couldn’t say anything. What’s the use of saying anything anyway? “You’ve really disappointed me. I’m not coming home tonight, that’s final!” The call was disconnected. She’s doing it again, planning to stay at the hospital to take care of him all night. Then she’ll sleep by his hospital bed, waiting for his every command. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes at the hospital, I probably wouldn’t have believed that my wife was at the hospital every day taking care of another man. Even the nurses were moved by it. When they showed me the way, they introduced them as the most loving and faithful couple they’d ever seen. This is too ridiculous! Thinking about this, I weakly put down my phone and lay on the living room floor, staring blankly at the ceiling light. It was a bit dazzling. In my daze, I remembered our wedding day, when she held Ethan’s hand with red eyes. I saw her abandoning me during our dates to comfort him when he was in a bad mood. And on countless nights, her body would shy away as soon as I got close. She said she was very traditional and a bit afraid of such things, that we needed to take it slow. Even now, we still haven’t made any progress. In our relationship, she’s always held the upper hand. Whether we’re close or distant depends entirely on her mood. The fever made my head hot, my thoughts were in disarray. In my confusion, I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I felt sore all over. Fortunately, the fever had subsided. After a quick shower, I felt like I had regained some energy, but I was still weak. I called in sick to work. My usually strict boss told me to rest well and take care of my health. I was a bit surprised. Just then, the door opened. Olivia came home looking slightly tired. Seeing that I wasn’t seriously ill, she said mockingly, “Weren’t you sick?” I ignored her sarcasm and just took a sip of warm water, enjoying the feeling of new life. “Cat got your tongue?” Seeing that I didn’t speak, she crossed her arms, looking like she was waiting for an explanation. “Let’s get a divorce.”

“Fine.” Olivia was stunned for a moment, but then agreed without hesitation. I saw a flash of anger on her face and instantly understood her thoughts. She probably thought I was just using another way to threaten her. “Alright, I’ll bring back the divorce papers this afternoon.” After saying this, I changed clothes and left. It turns out, saying it out loud wasn’t difficult. I thought I would feel reluctant, angry, or unwilling to let go. But the moment I actually said it, I felt relieved. Olivia just sat on the couch playing with her phone, not responding to me at all. She just treated it as one of my usual tantrums. After leaving, I bought breakfast and went to the nearest hospital. My father-in-law was currently hospitalized there, and for this period, my mother-in-law and I had been taking turns caring for him. Coincidentally, my company had been particularly busy lately. Every day, besides working overtime, I had to go to the hospital after work to relieve my exhausted mother-in-law. It was non-stop. This routine had continued for a month. Olivia remained indifferent. Not only that, but I was also paying for the expensive medical bills. Olivia’s entire salary was spent on finding psychologists for Ethan. She never had any money left over, and it was good enough that she didn’t ask me for more. I had talked to her about her father’s medical expenses, but she thought I was threatening her. Last night it rained, and to save some money on a taxi, I trudged home in the rain. Combined with the continuous fatigue, my body finally gave in to illness. “Having a son-in-law like you is truly our blessing.” “My wife and I have discussed it. We’ve seen all you’ve done these past days. You’re a good kid, much better than Olivia. We’ve decided to entrust our savings to you.” Hearing my father-in-law say this, I paused while peeling an apple, and quickly refused. In the past, if I could get the support of my in-laws, I would have been overjoyed and unable to sleep. Would their approval improve my relationship with Olivia? I thought about it carefully, but this hypothesis didn’t make me feel joyful. Strangely, I only felt pressure. “Little Ning isn’t really busy, is she? You’ve been lying to us all along. Is she at the hospital looking after that guy again?” Suddenly, my father-in-law sighed. I remained silent, not knowing how to answer. The day my father-in-law was hospitalized, I told Olivia, but she said Ethan was at a critical point and she couldn’t leave. She asked me to take care of her father more. “Look, her own father is sick and she doesn’t care, but she’s looking after some other man!” “How can I trust her with money?” Seeing that I didn’t speak, my father-in-law gave a bitter smile. In the end, I still refused and didn’t mention the divorce. As I was leaving the hospital, I saw Olivia’s social media post. The photo showed two hands tightly clasped in front of a green plant, with the caption “If we persevere together, we can surely thrive like this plant and overcome all difficulties.” I knew those were her and Ethan’s hands. In the past, I would have angrily called her and questioned her. Then she would describe me with words like petty and narrow-minded. Back then, seeing me angry and frustrated, she must have found it laughable, like a child fighting for attention, childish and annoying. But now I didn’t feel anything. I even found it a bit funny. Come to think of it, they really do look like a couple now. Since I’m so redundant, I might as well step out.

I brought the divorce papers home, but the house was empty. I was used to it. In the past, I would have argued with her for not coming home often. At first, she would explain, saying she had to attend dinners or team-building events. Later, she simply remained silent or casually said it was nothing. Now I think this is quite good, not bothering each other. I sent Olivia a message, then threw the signed divorce papers on the coffee table. Counting the days, it had been a long time since I visited my mom. Since my dad passed away, she’s been living alone in an old house in the suburbs. I realized that when I stopped revolving around Olivia, I had a lot more free time. And I had also neglected my family a lot. It’s a good time to go see my mom. After I got home, my mom was overjoyed. “Why did you come alone? Where’s Olivia?” “Did you have fun yesterday?” I was stunned. Fun? “What, did you forget your birthday yesterday? I even called you, and you said you were out with Olivia.” Only then did I remember that I was busy with a project contract at work yesterday. I hurriedly answered my mom’s call and briefly brushed it off. I completely forgot about my birthday as soon as I hung up. I didn’t know how to answer, and I couldn’t explain. It turned out yesterday was my birthday. At least in previous years, Olivia and I would have a meal together. This year, it was completely forgotten. I thought I would feel disappointed and sad. But now that it’s brought up, I only feel guilty towards my mom. “You came back this time, is there any difficulty?” Fortunately, my mom didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she held my hand and asked with a smile. “Don’t worry, Mom has saved up some money for you. If anything’s wrong, just say it.” My eyes turned red, and I repeatedly said there was nothing wrong. I felt very guilty inside. How long had it been since I last came back? Before, every time I came to my mom, it seemed to be for money. Because Olivia never took care of the household, I had to be responsible for the mortgage and car loan, and the pressure was too great. That evening, I enjoyed the dinner very much. After eating, I watched some TV shows with my mom. We were happy and chatty. I hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time. Before, it was all for Olivia, I didn’t have my own life. And now, I can spend any amount of time with my mom. In the evening, I don’t have to make a table full of dishes waiting for her. I can spend an evening eating with my mom, watching dramas, listening to her talk about neighborhood stories. When I go home, I don’t have to think about how to ask for money. In the past, holidays had to fit her schedule. Now I can go wherever I want. Without Olivia, it turns out to be so relaxing and enjoyable. Until the next morning, when I was woken up by my mom’s coughing. When I found her, she was outside the front door, trying hard to cover her mouth, her face red as she coughed. “It’s nothing, just a small problem.” Seeing me come out, she forced a smile and said it was nothing, but the next second she couldn’t help but cough up a bloody phlegm. Without a word, I carried her on my back and took her to the hospital. The examination result: tuberculosis. Looking at my mom’s evasive eyes, I felt extremely heartbroken. The words of questioning that came to my lips turned into complaints, complaining that she didn’t tell me. “Mom is old, there’s no need to waste money on this kind of disease. You’re under so much pressure now, and you have your own family…” Mom seemed a bit embarrassed. I took a deep breath and, ignoring her refusal, forcibly arranged for the best doctor to consult her. When it came time to pay, I found that I didn’t have enough money. I paused for a moment, smiling bitterly as I explained to my mom that the money was with Olivia. But… “That money, it was all borrowed by Ethan for medical treatment. You’ll have to think of another way.” After hearing what I said, Olivia said lightly. As expected. I wasn’t surprised, and I was too lazy to argue with her. I just told her to remember to come home and sign the divorce papers. “Haven’t you had enough?” Her tone finally carried some anger, expressing her dissatisfaction. “I told you, I’m serious.” She still thought I was joking with her. This time, I hung up the phone first.

With no other choice, I went to my father-in-law’s house and told him the truth about my mother’s illness. My father-in-law, who had just been discharged from the hospital, gave me $10,000 without a word. I didn’t refuse, and after taking it, I was about to write an IOU. “The money you spent on our treatment, I’ve kept track of every penny. This is your own money.” My father-in-law refused. Before leaving, he asked about Olivia again. I thought the divorce couldn’t be hidden anyway, so I just told him straight. “What a mess…” I didn’t answer. After giving the money to the hospital, I stayed with my mom at the hospital. She sighed, saying we hadn’t spent so much time together in a long time. I felt extremely ashamed. During this time, Olivia called me to urge me to come home. “I’m not coming back tonight, that’s it.” I didn’t have the heart to talk to her much. After that, I didn’t answer any of her calls. I just chatted with my mom about traveling to relax after she recovered. It wasn’t until the next day, after I had confirmed the surgery date with the doctor and reassured my mom, that I went home. As soon as I got home, I saw Olivia sitting on the sofa with a dark face. “Signed it?” I directly bypassed her to look at the divorce agreement on the table. Unexpectedly, she snatched it first and tore it to pieces. “Enough, Luke. How long are you going to keep this up? Taking things to the point of divorce, just because I didn’t come home that day?” “When did you become so unreasonable? You weren’t like this before!” “Say something!” Olivia was in a rage. I just stood there silently looking at her. In the past, it was always me who was angry and irritable like this. Suddenly, I understood her a little. People who lose control of their emotions are really ugly. “Fine, I know what you mean.” Seeing that I didn’t speak, Olivia sneered and started to undress in front of me, moving very quickly. “What are you doing?” I stopped her. “I know you’re not satisfied with me going to take care of Ethan, but there’s nothing between us. I’m still pure. Now I’m giving myself to you, is that okay?” “You don’t need to refuse, this is my duty as a wife, isn’t it?” After saying this, she pushed away my hand and stubbornly continued to undress. I walked to the window and pulled the curtains. When I turned back, I found her looking at me mockingly: “What, you want to do it in the living room?”

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I broke up with Adrian Guthrie, receiving a $900,000 severance package, a Mercedes, and a condo in downtown Los Angeles. I never knew I was worth so much. After shipping a bunch of stuff back home, I headed to the train station with the designer bag Adrian had bought me just days before. I chose to take the train because I wanted to come full circle. Five years ago, I had arrived in LA by train from a small, nameless town up north, leading to my encounter with Adrian and our subsequent five-year arrangement. I deliberately bought a coach ticket, planning to enjoy the scenery along the way. It seemed fitting for this journey. But as the carriage filled with chatter and various accents, I couldn’t help but shed a tear, falling into deep reminiscence. After dropping out of high school, I had apprenticed at a local hair salon for over a year. Against my family’s wishes, I set off for LA with just $1,500, claiming I wanted to make something of myself. But at nineteen, I was too young and naive to understand the harshness of the world. If I hadn’t met Adrian, I probably wouldn’t have lasted five days before heading back home. As soon as I got off the train, I realized my phone was gone. Faced with the vastness of LA and the bustling streets, I helplessly crouched down and cried. I had less than $100 in cash on me, and my phone contained all my savings. Without it, I couldn’t even get back home. But crying wouldn’t solve anything. I took a cab to the nearest police station to file a report. The officer, seeing how pitiful I looked, let me stay at the station while they checked nearby surveillance cameras for clues. I knew the chances were slim. In such a crowded place, a skilled pickpocket could easily snatch a phone without being noticed. It was at the police station that I first met Adrian. He was there for a traffic incident, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the surroundings. We sat next to each other, me looking miserable, him expressionless. Seemingly bored, Adrian struck up a conversation. “What brings you here, little miss? In trouble?” I glanced at him, thinking I might have swooned if not for the circumstances. But as soon as I opened my mouth, I burst into tears. “My phone was stolen.” Adrian looked a bit flustered, quickly grabbing some tissues and handing them to me. “Oh, it’s not a big deal. Can’t your parents just buy you a new one?” This only made me cry harder. Perhaps I needed an outlet for my frustration, so I sobbed out my whole unfortunate story. I was crying so hard I started hiccupping. Adrian seemed a bit put off, inching away as if afraid I’d get snot and tears on his suit. “Young people need to face some setbacks,” he said. “When I was in my teens, I went to study in Europe with just a few hundred dollars. I lost it all and had to work part-time jobs for a year to make ends meet.” Looking at his expensive suit and designer watch, I figured he must be doing well now. His past hardships hadn’t been in vain. Just then, the officer handling my case returned with a shifty-looking middle-aged man and my phone. I don’t know how they caught him, but I was so happy I gave the officer a big hug before scurrying out of the station. In my excitement, I completely forgot about the man in the suit. Looking back, I regret not sneaking a photo – he was so handsome. I found a job as a hairstylist assistant through an online job board. They said I wasn’t qualified to be a full stylist yet, and the assistant position only paid $1,800 a month, but it included housing. In hindsight, I was lucky in my naivety. Not only did I get my phone back, but my first job was at a legitimate salon. I could have easily fallen prey to a scam or worse. After working there for about a month, I saw Adrian for the second time. He came to the salon for a haircut, still in his impeccable suit, driving a black Mercedes. I was assigned to wash his hair. He squinted at me, seeming to find me familiar but not quite placing me. After the wash, he suddenly pointed at me and said, “I want her to cut my hair.” “Mr. Guthrie, she’s new and might not be skilled enough yet,” the stylist said, looking worried. It would be a small matter if I messed up, but offending a customer would be a big deal. Adrian waved his hand, insisting. The stylist had no choice but to give me a “good luck” look. Halfway through the cut, Adrian suddenly said, “I remember you now. You were at the police station that day, weren’t you?” I felt incredibly awkward, not wanting my coworkers to know about the police station incident. We’d been working together for a while, and knowing too much could make things uncomfortable. Without thinking, I covered his mouth with my hand, smearing his face with hair clippings. Adrian’s face darkened. Realizing my mistake, I quickly apologized. How stupid of me! Perhaps seeing me in such a vulnerable state before made me unsure how to face him now. Or maybe it was just the classic Cinderella-meets-CEO moment meant to happen. Aside from my competitive coworkers, Adrian became the first person I grew familiar with in LA. I still don’t know how my silly self caught Mr. Guthrie’s eye back then. He asked me out on an ordinary evening as I was leaving work with my colleagues. I saw him leaning against his car, smoking. It was the same Mercedes, perfectly matching his aura. My coworkers nudged me, hinting that Adrian was there for me. But I stood frozen, my whole body stiff. At nineteen, I might have been young, but I wasn’t completely clueless. I could understand Adrian coming to the salon frequently for haircuts, but now he was waiting for me so blatantly. I could no longer ignore that strange feeling. Did he want to sleep with me? I was self-aware enough to know that besides my young, pretty face, I had little to offer him. Seeing that I wasn’t moving, Adrian stubbed out his cigarette and walked over, unceremoniously pushing me towards the car. “Come on, let’s go get dinner.” Under my colleagues’ burning gazes, I got into the Mercedes’ passenger seat. After driving for five minutes, I finally spoke up. “Do you… want to sleep with me?” As soon as I asked, my face felt like it was on fire. It was awkward to ask, but I had to. My parents were honest, hardworking people, and although I was a bit rebellious, I had never done anything too out of line. I hadn’t even liked anyone before. If I hadn’t met Adrian, my life would probably have been very ordinary. Maybe I’d go back home one day and marry some local guy, or maybe I’d stay in LA and keep working menial jobs. But I did meet Adrian, and even when I asked such a blunt question, he just glanced at me and nodded. Seeing my disbelieving look, he explained, “You’re cute and pretty. It’s not strange that I’d want something to happen between us, is it?” “But… no, let me out. I won’t do it,” I wanted to say so much. I felt it was insulting, but he was so straightforward that I found myself at a loss for words. “How about I become your sugar daddy? $15,000 a month,” Adrian said. This was even more shocking than a one-night stand. I couldn’t believe that I would be associated with the term “sugar baby.” But at that moment, I became surprisingly calm. Even now, five years later, I can’t remember exactly how I reacted. All I know is that by the time I came to my senses, I was sitting with Adrian in a restaurant, and I had agreed to his proposal. Maybe it was vanity, or maybe I had read too many romance novels. Under those conditions, it was hard not to be tempted. But after agreeing, I felt regretful. My parents hadn’t raised me to be someone’s mistress. But it was too late. For a long time afterward, I was torn between feeling that my actions were immoral and indulging in the lifestyle. I still remember that Adrian took me to eat hot pot that night. After dinner, he took me straight to his apartment. It wasn’t very big, just a two-bedroom, but I ended up living there for five years. He didn’t do anything that night, perhaps sensing my nervousness. He was even considerate enough to sleep in separate rooms. Later, when I asked him about it, he said, “You smelled like hot pot and had this ‘sacrificial lamb’ look on your face. You were even trembling when I held your hand. It completely killed the mood.” What he didn’t know was that even with his concession, I didn’t sleep a wink that night. The next day, after work, I moved my things into his apartment with his help. I stayed at the salon for another week before I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t stand my colleagues’ looks and whispers. But I couldn’t deny it either – after all, I had indeed started an inappropriate relationship with Adrian, as they said. After quitting, I didn’t just sit around. Adrian gave me six months’ worth of money upfront, very generously. With $90,000 in my account, I didn’t know how to spend it, so I signed up for a bunch of classes – art, yoga, English, you name it. The reason I hadn’t continued my education before was due to my mediocre grades and rebellious attitude. Now, sitting down to study again, I found I had more patience. Adrian said, “Not bad, you know how to please your sugar daddy.” I pushed him away, annoyed. “I’m just bored. I’m rich now, you know. If I don’t spend it, it’ll just collect dust.” Adrian pressed me down on the couch, his breathing heavy. “Then how about pleasing your sugar daddy now?” I was still nervous, but I leaned in and kissed him on the lips, my attempts at seduction clumsy. Our first time wasn’t exactly great. I was too afraid of pain, so I started resisting and refusing as soon as he entered me. But with things already in motion, he couldn’t just stop, so we went through with it. Initially, he didn’t come every day. Sometimes it was every two weeks, sometimes every few days. We didn’t always have sex either. But when he discovered I couldn’t cook, he complained, “Damn, I’m paying all this money and getting nothing but sex in return. I’ve brought a freeloader into my home.” However, he didn’t force me to learn. When he came over, we’d order takeout or go out to eat. Occasionally, he’d cook. But since I was bored anyway, I decided to take some cooking classes too. The first time I cooked, I made four dishes. Three were disasters, and only the tomato and egg stir-fry was barely edible. It was my least favorite dish, but Adrian ate it happily, even mixing it with rice and finishing the small plate. He was being very polite. After eating, he grumbled, “You’re the real boss here,” and then went to make me a bowl of noodles. But my cooking skills improved quickly. My dishes went from looking okay to tasting okay, and eventually became delicious. I couldn’t compete with restaurant chefs, but I could handle home cooking just fine. When I first came to LA, I had a short, chin-length haircut that made me look cute and lively. By the time my hair reached my shoulders, Adrian and I had grown much closer. By the time I had long hair down to my waist, Adrian and I had become accustomed to each other. He would let me know if he wasn’t coming home at night, though he didn’t report his entire schedule. If he wasn’t coming back, he’d always say, “Lock the door and take care of yourself.” Aside from the monthly $15,000 deposit, I almost believed we were in a real relationship. Two years into our arrangement, Adrian’s family found me. It was his mother. When I got home one day, she was already sitting on the sofa, dressed in designer clothes and expensive jewelry. Adrian had shown me her photo before, so I recognized her immediately – a true socialite. I felt awkward and even scared, remembering scenes from novels where the rich mother throws money at the mistress and tells her to stay away from her son. I wondered if I should take the money and leave, or righteously declare, “I don’t want your dirty money. We’re in love!” But Adrian’s mother was different from what I had imagined. She just patted the sofa beside her, gesturing for me to sit down. She was even kind, you could say. “So you’re Mia? How long have you been with Adrian?” she asked. I felt exposed in front of her. “A little over two years,” I replied. She nodded, looking me over. “You are very pretty. No wonder Adrian comes here so often.” My face instantly turned red with embarrassment and guilt. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” She shook her head, smiling. “Don’t be nervous. I just wanted to meet you. I have no other intentions. After all, you’ve been with him for so long. I’m like half a parent to you.” It seemed she knew about our arrangement, referring to me being “with him” rather than us being “together.” This made me feel a bit relieved. “Adrian’s company is close by, so he often stays here,” I explained. His mother didn’t say anything more and left soon after, as if she really had just come to see me. It wasn’t until Adrian and I separated that I understood.

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