Category: English

I woke up in a trashy romance novel on the day of my divorce. Just as I was about to sign the papers, a series of glowing text boxes floated in front of my eyes: 【HIGH-STAKES DRAMA AHEAD! GET READY FOR THE GROVELING ARC!】 【LMAO, I can’t wait to see this scumbag refuse to sign, then break down and beg the female lead for forgiveness! Make him suffer!】 【He won’t sign. This is the moment he’s supposed to wake up and realize his one true love was framed by the other woman, right?】 I glanced at the comments, smirked, and signed the divorce papers without a moment’s hesitation. I’m not the actual main character. Why the hell would I want to grovel my way through a redemption arc? 1 I’d been transmigrated. Dropped right into the body of Damien Blackwood, the male lead of a cliché-ridden, melodramatic novel called The CEO’s Captive Heart. You know the type: cold, cruel, pathologically blind to the truth, and destined for a long, painful journey of groveling to win back the woman he’d wronged. A classic scumbag CEO. And right now, I was at City Hall, finalizing my divorce. The woman sitting next to me was beautiful, but her face was as pale as parchment. That was Evelyn, my wife—for the next five minutes, anyway. According to the novel, we’d been married for three years, during which I, as Damien, had been a textbook monster. I’d neglected her, humiliated her, accused her of cheating, and even caused her to have a miscarriage. Pure, unadulterated trash. But of course, underneath it all, I was supposedly madly in love with her. My cruelty was just a product of being manipulated by a two-faced schemer—my supposed “one true love” from the past—and provoked by Evelyn’s own suspiciously close male best friend. The plot was simple: the hero acts like a villain, the heroine suffers, the hero has a sudden epiphany, and then the groveling begins. A long, drawn-out redemption arc. The original Damien ends up with a broken leg, bankrupt, and nearly dead. And the best part? Evelyn still doesn’t forgive him. He goes through hell for nothing. It’s a tragedy. As I was mulling this over, those colorful, translucent text boxes started popping up again, obscuring my view. 【HERE IT COMES! THE GROVELING IS ABOUT TO BEGIN!】 【Wake up, Damien, you idiot! Look at everything Evelyn has sacrificed for you! If you sign those papers, it’s all over!】 【I’ll bet you fifty bucks he’s about to rip up the agreement and yell ‘I DON’T AGREE!’ It’s a classic!】 Live-chat comments? I got it. They were the audience, watching from another dimension. They were here for the show, waiting to see me suffer, to watch me crawl back on my hands and knees. I almost laughed out loud. A groveling redemption arc? What’s that got to do with me? I wasn’t the real Damien. Why should I suffer for some fictional idiot’s mistakes? A broken leg? Bankruptcy? Begging for forgiveness? You’ve got to be kidding me. Isn’t freedom better? A powerful, primal survival instinct kicked in. I had to get out of this story. Now. The clerk slid the divorce agreement in front of me and pointed to the signature line. Evelyn didn’t look at me. Her gaze was fixed on the tabletop, her eyes empty. She was already signing her copy, her pen moving quickly, forcefully, as if she were escaping a prison. The pen was right there. I picked it up. The comments were scrolling by in a frenzy. 【His expression is so cold. Is he really going to sign? No way!】 【He’s faking! He has to be! The explosion is coming any second now!】 【Getting my screen recorder ready for the iconic scene!】 I ignored the noise and brought the pen to the paper. The tip glided across the smooth surface. Damien Blackwood. My signature was clean and decisive. Not a single tremor in my hand. I put the pen down and pushed the document back to the clerk. “Done,” I said, my voice surprisingly light. The hall was silent except for the low hum of the air conditioning. The clerk looked stunned, glancing from the papers to me, then to Evelyn. He probably hadn’t seen many divorces go this smoothly, especially from a CEO with a reputation for being obsessively in love with his wife. Evelyn had finished signing too. She finally looked up, her vacant eyes meeting mine. The emptiness was gone, replaced by something else. Shock. Utter disbelief. 2 The comments section imploded. 【!!!!!!!!!!】 【WTF???? HE SIGNED???? HE ACTUALLY SIGNED???】 【This isn’t in the script, director! Where’s the part where he rips up the papers?! Where’s the dramatic epiphany?!】 【AAAAAHHHH WHERE’S MY GROVELING ARC?! THIS ISN’T WHAT I PAID FOR! REFUND!】 The clerk, recovering quickly, processed the paperwork. A few minutes later, two crimson booklets were handed to us. The divorce certificates. It was done. I was emotionally, and now legally, a free man. I stood up and stretched. Evelyn was still sitting, staring at the certificate in her hand as if it were a branding iron. I didn’t spare her another glance. I turned and walked away. My steps were long and quick, eager to leave this place behind. The comments went berserk. 【He just left??? He really just left??? Didn’t even look back!】 【My redemption arc! My groveling! Did the writer just give up?!】 【DAMIEN! YOU GET BACK HERE! GET ON YOUR KNEES!】 【Wait a second… does he seem a little too… relieved?】 Stepping out of City Hall, I was hit by the bright sun. The air felt cleaner out here. The driver pulled the black luxury sedan to the curb. I got in, sinking into the plush leather seat. It was comfortable. “Back to the office, Mr. Blackwood?” the driver asked. “Yes.” I leaned back and closed my eyes. A dull ache was still throbbing in my head, but the weight in my chest was gone. I felt light. Lighter than I had in a long time. The car pulled into traffic, leaving City Hall behind. My phone vibrated. I pulled it out. The screen lit up with a name: “Vivian.” The other woman. The manipulative schemer who framed Evelyn and caused the miscarriage. The catalyst for the entire groveling arc. The comments instantly perked up. 【Here we go! It’s the other woman!】 【She’s definitely calling to ‘comfort’ him! Damien’s gonna go cry on her shoulder now!】 【Let the trashy couple rot together! Leave our Evelyn alone!】 Just seeing the name made me feel sick. I declined the call, then dragged the contact into my block list. The world instantly felt 50% cleaner. Another explosion in the comments. 【??? He hung up???】 【AND BLOCKED HER?? HOLY CRAP???】 【What the hell is this plot twist?!】 【This isn’t how the story goes! Damien, snap out of it!】 【Wait… does he know? Does he know Vivian framed Evelyn?】 【So what if he knows! It’s too late! Scumbag!】 The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Sir, that was Miss Sterling.” “Don’t mention her name again,” I said. My voice was quiet, but cold. The driver immediately shut up. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood.” The phone rang again. My assistant this time. I answered. “Mr. Blackwood, is everything finalized?” he asked, his voice hesitant. “Yes. It’s done.” “Should I arrange a settlement for… Miss Lin?” “Not a single penny. Stick to the prenup,” I cut him off. I remembered the prenup. Evelyn had signed it. She left with nothing. The original Damien had forced her to have the abortion and then kicked her out penniless because Vivian convinced him the child wasn’t his. “Have her things packed and thrown out of the house. Don’t send them anywhere. And get the keys back.” My assistant audibly choked. “Understood, sir. And… what should I tell your father? He’s always been very fond of her.” My father. The one person in the book who was decent to Evelyn. He’s also the one who eventually disowned Damien. “I’ll handle him.” “Now, head back to the office. I want a meeting with all department heads in one hour. I need to see the latest financial reports and project statuses. All of them. Anyone not in that conference room in thirty minutes can submit their resignation.” “Yes, Mr. Blackwood! Right away!” My assistant’s voice was suddenly sharp and efficient. He hung up. The comments were flying so fast they were a blur. 【Is this a divorce or a scorched-earth campaign?!】 【Cold-blooded! So damn cold-blooded! Evelyn wasted three years of her life on this monster!】 【Blocked Vivian, kicked out Evelyn, and now he’s going back to work? What the hell possessed this guy?】 【Did his business brain just activate? He’s all about the money now?】 【The groveling arc has officially been shredded and set on fire! LMAO (crying)】 3 I strode into my office at Blackwood Corp. A figure lunged at me, enveloped in a cloud of perfume. It was Vivian. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her voice cloying. “Damien! Why did you block me? What did I do wrong?” I sidestepped her. She stumbled, catching herself just before she fell. “Damien?” she whimpered, her face a mask of wounded confusion. I walked past her and sat down behind my desk. I looked up, my gaze like ice. “Who let you in?” “My assistant told me about the divorce. I was worried about you.” She started to move closer. “Get out.” “What?” Vivian froze. “Right now. Get out of my office.” I pointed to the door. “And don’t ever come near this building again.” Her face flushed, then drained of color. “Damien, how could you…” “Security!” I buzzed the front desk. The comments were losing their minds: 【Damn, that’s harsh! He’s treating the ‘love of his life’ like this?!】 【Vivian’s face is priceless! HAHAHA!】 【That was a slap in the face! So satisfying!】 【Did Damien take the wrong pills this morning?!】 【It’s like he hates everyone now?】 Two security guards appeared in the doorway. “Mr. Blackwood?” “Escort Miss Sterling out. And from now on, she is not permitted in this building without my express approval.” I looked down at a file, dismissing her completely. “Yes, sir.” The guards turned to Vivian. “Miss Sterling, please.” “Damien! You’re a bastard! I hate you!” she shrieked as the guards firmly led her away. The office was finally quiet. The comments kept rolling: 【He really kicked her out! Savage!】 【The main love interest just got demoted to a random extra? The plot is in shambles!】 【I don’t understand this development, but I am thoroughly shaken!】 【Is the scumbag turning over a new leaf? No, wait, this isn’t redemption, this is a complete personality transplant!】 I ignored them. My phone rang again. It was the butler from the family estate, informing me that my father demanded my immediate presence. I drove to the old Blackwood mansion. The old man was on the sofa, his face livid. To my surprise, Evelyn was there too. She was standing in the middle of the living room next to an open suitcase, methodically packing a few items of clothing. She paused when she heard me enter but didn’t turn around. The old man saw me and slammed his hand on the armrest. “You insolent whelp! You’d better explain yourself!” “Father, you see for yourself. It’s done,” I said calmly. “She’ll be gone as soon as she’s finished packing.” “Gone?” He shot to his feet. “Who said she’s leaving?!” He strode over to Evelyn and slammed the suitcase shut. “Evelyn, you stop that right now! You’re not the one who’s leaving!” Evelyn’s hands hovered in mid-air. The old man whipped around, his finger practically in my face. “You’re the one who’s getting out! Damien! I have no son who is so heartless, so blind!” Another explosion in the comments: 【Whoa! Go, Dad! Put him in his place!】 【Damien must be terrified now! Time to beg for forgiveness!】 【Here it comes! The breakdown! The pleading!】 4 The old man turned back to Evelyn, his voice softening. “Evelyn, don’t go. Damien has changed, really. I just got word he blocked that Vivian woman and had her banned from the company. He still loves you!” Seeing that I wasn’t reacting, my father’s chest heaved with rage. “Damien! I’m telling you right now! If you dare to go through with this divorce, you can get the hell out of this family! The Blackwood fortune will have no heir named Damien Blackwood! Evelyn is a wonderful woman, and you’ve done nothing but torture her! Without her, you are nothing!” He glared at me, waiting. Waiting for me to break, to beg, to have the great epiphany the novel had promised. I looked at him. Then I looked at Evelyn. She was watching me too, her lips pressed into a thin line. The air was electric. I nodded. My voice was perfectly calm. “Alright.” The old man froze. Evelyn’s eyes widened, just a fraction. A flicker of some unreadable emotion crossed her face. It looked like pure, unadulterated shock. Maybe even a hint of curiosity. The comments stuttered, then erupted. 【????????????】 【What did he say?】 【‘Alright’? That’s all he said?】 【Wait… hold on… did he get the wrong script?】 【His father just disowned him and he said ‘alright’?】 【He’s lost it! Damien has completely lost his mind!】 【Look at Evelyn’s face! Even she didn’t see that coming!】 【HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP! WHAT IS THIS PLOT TWIST?!】 【He didn’t just shred the groveling script, he set it on fire and pissed on the ashes! He’s giving up his family for this?】 My father stood there, speechless, his face turning purple. Evelyn’s gaze was fixed on me. I ignored them both and turned, heading upstairs to my room to pack. The taste of freedom was intoxicating. The comments were still going wild: 【He’s giving up his inheritance? Just to get a divorce?】 【This guy has achieved a new level of scumbag? An iron-willed scumbag?】 【Evelyn: I spent three years preparing for a tragic romance, and you give me this?】 【My world is crumbling! I can’t watch this show anymore!】 Just then, Evelyn stepped in front of me, blocking my path. Her expression was flat. “Damien, I’m the one who should leave. But I need you to know, the baby I lost was yours. It wasn’t Idris’s. I never cheated on you. You can stop playing these push-and-pull games. I’m not coming back.” I squinted at her, a lazy grin on my face. “I’ll personally drive you to the airport. Your words are music to my ears. By the way, there’s a corporate gala tonight. Please, whatever you do, don’t show up. I really don’t want to see you there.” Her brow furrowed, a flash of anger in her eyes. I examined my fingernails. “If you don’t go, then Idris won’t go. I’m not inviting Vivian. Everything will be perfect. I’m begging you, stay away.” She just stared at me, confused. I’d read the book. I knew the cliché scene that was supposed to happen tonight. At the gala, Damien sees Evelyn arrive with her “best friend” Idris Vance. Consumed by jealous rage, Damien grabs Vivian and kisses her, escalating the drama. He then gets into a fistfight with Idris, pushing Evelyn away for good. Finally, his father publicly disowns him, and the groveling arc officially begins. By telling her not to come, I was trying to avoid all of that. A clean break. Everyone wins. But if they did show up, I wouldn’t be playing by the book’s rules anymore. I already had evidence the original Damien never found. Freedom felt too good. Who had time for their pathetic love-hate games? I didn’t need to chase anyone, bow to anyone, or be a puppet for some trashy plot. I wanted my own time, my own space, my own future. Screw the groveling. Screw the melodrama. I was here to make money, build an empire, and live my own goddamn life. But Evelyn, in a complete break from her usual character, lifted her chin, a stubborn glint in her eye. “I’m going. Who are you to tell me what to do?” As expected, the comments went wild. 【Evelyn: You want me to listen? Sorry, my rebellious phase just started!】 【The story of how my ex-husband told me not to go to a party, so I obviously had to go.】 【Damien vs. Idris! Place your bets!】 【Tonight is gonna be a war zone! Can’t wait to see Damien break down and beg!】 【I’ve read the book, a massive showdown is coming! If the male lead doesn’t suffer, I’ll eat my own shoes!】

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The day Arthur Pierce, the man who raised me, hit number one on the Forbes list was the same day a girl in rags appeared on our doorstep. The moment he saw her, tears of pure joy streamed down Arthur’s face. It jarred a memory loose—something he’d told me years ago about a daughter who had vanished without a trace, a decade-long silence that had carved a hollow space in his heart. The girl, Chloe, looked me up and down with a wounded expression. “Dad, is that your love child?” A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. Seeing me standing there, so clearly at home, ignited a fire in her eyes. “What are you laughing at? I’m the real daughter of this house!” Arthur was, in fact, the legal guardian my parents had named in their will. The moment I turned eighteen and signed the final inheritance papers, his role would legally revert to what it had always been in practice: the steward of my family’s estate. A steward’s daughter calling me his illegitimate child? The irony was so thick I could have choked on it. 1 Arthur cut her off, his voice strained with embarrassment. “Chloe, darling, she’s not my daughter. She’s—” Chloe immediately switched gears, adopting the air of a long-lost princess. She gestured at me with a flick of her wrist. “Then she must be the maid. Hey, you. Take my bag.” She tossed a grimy canvas duffel onto the marble floor at my feet. With a sigh, Arthur picked it up himself, treating her outburst like a childish tantrum. “Chloe, this is Ava Sinclair, the daughter of my dearest friends. Her parents passed away, so she’s been staying with us.” He shot me an apologetic look, and I gave a slight nod to show it was fine. I’d been living with Arthur for eight years, ever since I was secretly flown back to the States after the accident that killed my parents. If it weren’t for him, I have no doubt I would have ended up dead at the hands of the relatives circling my family’s shares like vultures. He had just found his daughter; the last thing I wanted was to spoil this moment for him. But it was quickly becoming clear his daughter was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated. Chloe’s lip trembled, and fat tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Dad, look at her. She’s glowing. Does she look like someone who’s living on charity?” Her voice cracked. “I was kidnapped, sold to some backwoods family, treated worse than dirt. Why does she—an orphan—get to live like this?” Arthur’s face crumpled with pain. He pulled her into a tighter embrace. “My poor girl. You’ve suffered so much. We’ll call the police, have them all arrested.” But Chloe suddenly grew evasive, muttering only that she was too traumatized to remember the details. Arthur had no choice but to let it go, promising they would talk about it when she felt stronger. That evening, Arthur had our cook, Maria, prepare a feast to welcome Chloe home. Chloe sat in silence at the dining table, then her eyes welled up and she slammed her silverware down. The clatter echoed in the cavernous room. “After I was taken, all I ever got to eat was stale bread soaked in vegetable broth. But an outsider like her gets to eat like a queen.” Arthur stroked her hair, his voice gentle. “From now on, Chloe, you can have anything you want.” Her gaze sharpened, and she pointed at a dish of seared scallops I’d been enjoying. She flicked her fork in my direction, splattering sauce on my silk blouse, and turned to Arthur with a sob. “I think you mean she gets whatever she wants! You remember her favorite foods, but you completely forgot that almost everything on this table could send me into anaphylactic shock!” Before Arthur could respond, Chloe’s voice dropped to a mournful whisper. “Of course, it’s been ten years. I wasn’t the one by your side. If I hadn’t risked my life to escape, would you have even remembered you had a daughter?” Guilt washed over Arthur’s face. The performance was so transparent it turned my stomach. I dabbed at the stain on my blouse with a napkin and signaled to Maria. “Maria, I’m finished. Since Miss Pierce is allergic, perhaps you should clear these dishes.” A flicker of triumph crossed Chloe’s face, but then I continued, “And could you please book an appointment for Miss Pierce tomorrow? I’ll take her to an allergist myself.” I smiled sweetly at her. “If the tests come back negative, it means you were intentionally trying to provoke me. And you will offer me a formal, bowing apology.” Arthur’s head snapped up. He opened his mouth, then closed it, turning instead to his daughter. “Chloe, that’s enough.” Seeing that her father wasn’t taking her side, Chloe let out a wail and swept the plates and glasses off the table. They shattered on the floor. “You’re so biased! And you still say she’s not your secret daughter! If you two are so close, then there’s no reason for me to be here, getting in your way!” She snatched her wretched bag and stormed toward the door. Arthur scrambled after her, nearly tripping over his own feet. “I only have one daughter, Chloe! It’s you!” It took a long time, and the promise of an extravagant shopping spree, before he could coax her back inside. As I rose to go to my room, I paused beside Arthur. I spoke softly, for his ears only. “Arthur. On your account, she gets four chances. Only four.” 2 His body went rigid, and a sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. He knew exactly what I meant. My patience had a limit. And after the fourth time, Arthur’s position as even a steward in this house would become untenable. But Chloe seemed determined to make everyone miserable. Just as I was getting ready for bed, a loud, insistent banging rattled my door. I opened it to find Chloe leaning against the frame, arms crossed, a smirk on her face. She jabbed a thumb down the hall. “I want that room, the one on the left. The staff said you’re the only one with the key.” I glanced in the direction she was pointing. Of the seventeen bedrooms in this mansion, she had to pick the one that had belonged to my parents. “Absolutely not. That was my parents’ room.” Her face hardened. “What damn parents? Let’s get something straight. Your parents are dead. My dad took you in out of pity.” Her voice dripped with venom. “Oh, I get it now. You and your parents are all just parasites. A whole family of leeches, sucking my father dry.” My voice dropped to a dangerously low temperature. “This is my house, not a stage for you to play princess. You’re back now, so you will follow my rules. And if I ever hear you speak about my parents again, you and your father will be out on the street together.” Before she could retort, I slammed the door in her face. Silence fell outside. For a moment, I thought that was the end of it. Then came a deafening crash. The wall beside my bed shuddered. I threw the door open. Chloe was standing in the hallway holding a hammer, the door to my parents’ suite hanging splintered from its hinges. She swaggered inside. I rushed after her, planting myself in her path. “Chloe! You touch one more thing, and I swear to God, you will be out of this house tonight!” She shoved me hard, sending me stumbling backward, and raised the hammer as if to strike. A deep, authoritative voice boomed from behind us. “Chloe! That’s enough! Pick another room!” Arthur strode toward us, his face a mask of stern disapproval. Chloe dropped the hammer, her entire demeanor shifting back to that of a wounded animal. “Dad, I slept in a pigsty in the countryside. Now that I’m home, all I want is a room of my own. Is that too much to ask?” I saw the resolve in Arthur’s face begin to crumble, replaced by that familiar, gut-wrenching pity. I knew he was about to give in. I let out a cold laugh, ready to blow the whole charade wide open. But Arthur caught my eye, his expression pleading, begging me not to expose his true role as steward. I understood. He couldn’t bear to lose face in front of the daughter he had just reclaimed. I wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of my lip where I’d bitten it. My voice was ice. “Arthur. This is the second time.” He sighed, a sound of profound defeat. “Chloe, I’ll take you to a hotel. We can find our own place.” Chloe looked at him in disbelief. “Dad! This is our home! Why should we be the ones to leave?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “I knew it! She is your love child! Why else would you treat her like this?” Arthur raised his hand, and for a second, I thought he would strike her. But it fell, limp, to his side. “Chloe, how many times do I have to tell you she is not my daughter!” It was like talking to a brick wall. Arthur’s shoulders slumped, the weight of the last decade suddenly crashing down on him. Seeing that I wasn’t going to stop him, he nodded grimly and took Chloe’s arm to lead her away. That finally broke her. Chloe panicked, dropping to her knees in front of me, her sobs wracking her body. “I’m sorry, Ava, I’m so sorry! I was wrong! I was just being stupid and jealous, fighting with you over my own father.” Her words were slick with false sincerity. “I know Dad worries about you, that he favors you because… because of your situation. I’m willing to be your sister, your real sister. Please, don’t make us leave.” I ignored her completely. My gaze was fixed on the new strands of gray at Arthur’s temples, and I thought of all the years he had protected me, cared for me. My resolve softened, again. Thankfully, a quick check of my parents’ room showed that nothing inside had been damaged. “Fine, Arthur,” I said, my voice weary. “My parents asked you to look after me until I come of age. That time isn’t up yet. Just make sure this doesn’t happen again.” The light returned to his tired eyes. “Thank you, Ava,” he whispered, his own eyes glistening. “Thank you.” To avoid Chloe, I left for school early the next morning. I figured she would lay low for a while. I was wrong. She was in my homeroom. When our teacher, Mrs. Davison, introduced her, Chloe stood before the class, looking shy and vulnerable. “Hi, everyone. My name is Chloe Pierce. I was… I was kidnapped ten years ago and grew up in a rural community. I was just found a few days ago.” Ignoring all social norms, she launched into a harrowing, detailed account of the abuse she had supposedly suffered. The other students were captivated, their faces a mixture of horror and pity. Even Mrs. Davison’s eyes were red. Chloe basked in the sympathy, then her gaze landed on me, sitting at my desk, trying to focus on a calculus problem. Her voice dripped with insinuation. “Of course, for all these years, I have to thank Ava Sinclair. She’s been a great comfort to my father… like a real daughter.” She deliberately left it vague, planting seeds of pity for herself and suspicion about my role in her family. It was another miscalculation. I looked up from my notebook and smiled brightly. “It’s true! Arthur has been more of a father to me than I could have ever wished for.” My classmates nodded in agreement. “Totally! Remember last year when Ava just scraped her knee in gym class, and Mr. Pierce drove through that insane thunderstorm just to take her to the ER himself?” one girl said. “And when she won the state debate championship, he was so proud he bought the entire class new iPhones,” another added. Chloe thought my being an orphan was a shameful secret, that Arthur’s affection for me was some dark taboo. In reality, everyone at Northgate Prep knew my story, and I’d never cared what they thought. Seeing that her attempt to isolate me had backfired, and hearing about the kindness Arthur had shown me, Chloe finally snapped. Her face contorted with rage, and her voice was shrill. “You’re his illegitimate daughter! Do you really think just because my dad bought you a few nice things, you’re entitled to his fortune?” 3 Her words hung in the air. Every eye in the classroom swiveled toward me. “So Ava is his love child? No wonder Mr. Pierce spoils her so much.” “Wait, so is she trying to steal Chloe’s inheritance? If I were Chloe, I’d be furious.” I set down my pen. That’s three, I thought, a cold knot tightening in my stomach. I leaned back in my chair, meeting Chloe’s triumphant glare. “Chloe, I’ll say it one more time. I am not your father’s illegitimate daughter.” “If you’re not his love child, then you’re just a gold-digger who’s clawed her way in! Why else would my dad be so good to you?” Chloe preened, crossing her arms as she soaked in the judgmental stares being directed at me. She cleared her throat, preparing for her next salvo. “On the day of my eighteenth birthday party—” I’d had enough. I tossed my pen onto my desk, the plastic clattering loudly in the silent room, and stood up. My voice was clear and steady, cutting through her tirade. “Chloe and I will be having a joint coming-of-age party. I invite all of you to be there. As for who I am… Arthur will make everything clear then.” “Ava, you—!” Chloe started to protest, but Mrs. Davison intervened, restoring order. For the rest of the day, Chloe’s eyes burned holes in my back. That night, she knocked on my door again. When I opened it, she was leaning against the wall, oozing self-satisfaction. “I saw the papers on Dad’s desk. An asset transfer agreement. I guess he’s ready to hand over the company now that I’m back.” She twirled a strand of hair, her expression insufferably smug. “Ava, what does it matter if you spent ten years with him? In his heart, I’ll always be the daughter he loves most.” Her confidence was so absolute, I couldn’t be bothered to correct her. I was almost looking forward to seeing the look on her face at the party. Arthur having a daughter like this was a truly spectacular stroke of bad luck. But the real disaster struck sooner, at the Sterling Corp new product launch. Even though my identity was still a secret, as the future head of the company, I was always present at major events, seated as a guest of honor to stay informed. I never imagined Chloe’s drama would follow me here. I was holding a microphone, about to offer a few remarks from my seat, when an angry voice cut through the air. “Get out of the way. You have no right to sit in the front row.” Chloe snatched the microphone from my hand. She scanned the massive auditorium and spoke with ringing self-importance. “Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Chloe Pierce, and I am the sole heir to Sterling Corp!” A wave of shock rippled through the audience of several thousand people. “Is that her? The mysterious heir who’s supposed to take over Sterling Corp when she turns eighteen?” “This is so sudden. I didn’t hear anything about an official announcement today.” Hearing the buzz, Chloe’s certainty swelled. “That’s right! I am the mysterious heir! And on the day of my eighteenth birthday, I welcome you all to—hey!” She didn’t get to finish. I gave a subtle nod to the security detail, and two guards moved in, swiftly escorting her away. Chloe thrashed and screamed, “Let go of me! How dare you treat the heir of Sterling Corp this way! I want your names and badge numbers!” Arthur, who had been frozen in shock, finally snapped out of it, burying his face in his hands with shame. The event had descended into chaos. I suppressed my fury, stood up, and faced the press, taking control. “That was just a small, unfortunate interruption. Regardless of who the heir is, the strength of a company lies in its products. I hope we can all return our focus to the exciting innovations Sterling has to share today.” The ride home was thick with an icy silence. I scrolled through the headlines already exploding on social media. Arthur’s face was ashen. “Ava, I am so sorry. I’ve been far too lenient with her. I just thought… she’s just returned, and she’s so sensitive. Her heart is in the right place, I know it is. I’ll be stricter with her from now on.” “Mr. Pierce,” I said, my voice flat. “This was the third time. You had better pray this doesn’t turn into a PR scandal for the company. Because if it does…” He flinched. It was the first time in eight years I had called him Mr. Pierce. The look I gave him was as cold as a glacier. He nodded frantically, wiping sweat from his brow. But when we walked through the front door, the scene that greeted us made my entire body tremble with a rage I had never known. 4 The door to my parents’ suite was smashed to pieces. Inside, everything that held a memory of them—their books, their art, the furniture they’d chosen together—had been systematically destroyed. My hands shook as I picked up the shattered frame of my parents’ wedding photograph. Tears dripped from my chin onto the broken glass. “Chloe! Get down here now!” I screamed. Chloe sauntered down the grand staircase, a cosmetic face mask on, looking annoyed at being disturbed. I slapped her across the face with all the strength I had. She clutched her cheek, her eyes blazing with crimson fury. “You hit me? I’m about to be the heir to the company! And this house is mine anyway! I can do whatever I want with it!” “Lock her in her room,” I commanded the household staff. “Let her sit in there until she comes to her senses.” At my sharp command, several staff members, their faces grim, escorted a protesting Chloe upstairs. Arthur didn’t dare approach me. He stammered, “Ava—” I cut him off, my voice devoid of all warmth. “That was the fourth time. It seems you are incapable of controlling your daughter, Mr. Pierce. Don’t worry. I’m more than happy to do it for you.” Later that night, as I passed Chloe’s room, I heard voices from within. A man’s voice, flirting with her. It was disturbingly familiar. My eyes widened. No. That voice is… A cold dread washed over me. I pulled out my phone and called the one board member who knew my true identity, a man who had been my father’s closest confidant. “I need you to investigate something for me. And I need the results before my birthday.” After hearing my suspicions, his tone grew heavy. “Consider it done, Ava. You’ll have everything you need.” Chloe wasn’t let out of her room until the day of our joint eighteenth birthday party. The grand ballroom of our estate was filled to capacity. Reporters from major financial news outlets were interviewing Arthur. The entire Sterling Corp board was present, along with our most important business partners. Chloe, for once, had shed her usual belligerence. She approached me with a glass of champagne. As she raised it, she leaned in and whispered smugly in my ear, “Dad let me out today for a reason. He’s obviously going to make a big announcement. Just you wait.” I walked right past her, joining a conversation and clinking glasses with our guests. Chloe tried several times to interject herself, but each time, Arthur pulled her aside, his face stern. “Chloe, I am warning you for the last time. Do not cause a scene. Tonight is Ava’s night.” She feigned compliance, tugging at his sleeve. “Dad, that asset transfer agreement… we’re signing it today, right?” Arthur pulled his arm away, his expression unreadable. “Don’t ask questions you don’t need the answers to.” He didn’t see the look on her face as he turned away—the pure hatred, the way her nails dug into her own palm. “Once I expose everything,” she muttered to herself, “you’ll see that I’m the only one who should be signing anything.” Finally, at the pinnacle of the evening, the moment everyone was waiting for, Arthur had his assistant bring out the asset transfer agreement. He took a deep breath and looked directly at me. “As of today, I am officially announcing that all shares of Sterling Corp, along with all assets transferred to my name ten years ago for safekeeping, will be signed over in their entirety to Miss Ava Sinclair!” A spotlight instantly found me. I could feel hundreds of eyes on me, burning with curiosity and envy. A wave of applause and murmurs filled the room. I smiled, accepted the portfolio containing the documents, and was about to sign. CRASH. The champagne flute in Chloe’s hand shattered on the floor. Her body trembled, her face a mask of utter disbelief. “Dad!” she shrieked. “Why are you giving your assets to her? I’m your daughter!” For the first time, Arthur’s voice was pure steel as he roared at her. “Chloe, that is enough! One more word and you are out of here! Ava Sinclair is the one and only heir to Sterling Corp, and that is final!” Chloe’s eyes filled with a venomous hatred. She produced a sealed manila envelope and held it high in the air. “I don’t think you’ll feel that way after you see this! This document will prove that I am the only person who has the right to sign those papers!” The ballroom fell silent. Hesitantly, Arthur took the envelope. He glanced at its contents for only a second before his face went pale. He reached over and took the portfolio back from my hands. His expression was a turmoil of confusion and pain as he looked at me. “The transfer of shares and assets is postponed!”

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The second year after Mom died, Dad decided to remarry. The woman, Joanna, threw out everything that belonged to my mother. She gave me spoiled milk to drink and forbade Dad from holding me. In the middle of the night, I’d hide under the covers, crying silent tears. Suddenly, strange text started flashing before my eyes, like comments on a screen only I could see. 【Cassie, don’t cry! Go find your grandpa!】 【He’s the chairman of the Vance Corporation, Cassie. Your uncle is a pop superstar, and your aunt is even more incredible.】 【Go, Cassie, go! The Aunties will NOT let you end up a tragic heroine like your mom!】 1 I pulled the blanket down just enough to peek out, my little six-year-old brain trying to process the words. I didn’t know what a “tragic heroine” was, but I knew “Grandpa” and the “Vance Corporation.” Before Mom passed away, she gave me half of a torn photograph of him. She told me that if Dad ever stopped loving me, I should take the photo and find my grandpa. Back then, Dad had sworn it was impossible, promising he would never marry again. But now, he only had eyes for Joanna and the baby brother in her belly. He didn’t even notice when I tripped and fell right in front of him. And last week, when I had a 104-degree fever, our housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, called him over a dozen times with no answer. She finally had to risk getting fired by giving me fever medicine herself. That day, Mrs. Gable was crying and laughing at the same time. She said Mom must have been watching over me from heaven, keeping me from becoming a “little fool.” 2 As I hesitated, wondering if I should really go find a grandpa I’d never met, the Comments told me more. They said if I stayed, Joanna would only get crueler. They said that when I turned sixteen, my dad would go bankrupt, my grandpa’s family would be destroyed, and Joanna would sell me to a man named Damian Sterling before taking ten billion dollars and fleeing the country. “Damian… you mean Damian Sterling?” My eyes went wide. Damian was five years older than me. Every time we met at family functions, he made fun of me. I couldn’t understand why he would pay money for me. Didn’t he know that buying children was against the law? The Comments exploded with excitement at the sound of my voice. 【OMG! Seraphina was right! Cassie can see our comments!】 Seraphina? Mom? These Aunties knew my mom! 【Let’s go, girls! If Cassie can’t escape her fate, it’s because we didn’t try hard enough!】 【Don’t you worry. I’ve got plenty of experience dealing with scumbags. If Landon Reed and Damian Sterling don’t get what’s coming to them, my ex can use my head as a bowling ball.】 The Aunties went wild for a few moments before getting back on track. 【Cassie, you have to run! Damian is an even bigger monster than your dad!】 【In this whole story, only your grandpa is powerful enough to stand up to the Sterling family. In the original plot, your mom’s family tried to help you in secret. If you go to them now, they’ll definitely take you in.】 【Cassie, if you and your grandpa can save each other, that’s what your mom would want more than anything.】 Save Grandpa… is that what Mom would want? My little heart hammered against my ribs. I scrambled out of bed and found the box with the photo. In it, my handsome grandpa had a gentle smile, his beautiful eyes clear and bright, just like Mom’s. Staring into those familiar eyes, I made my decision. If Dad didn’t love me anymore, then tomorrow, I would go find my grandpa. 3 The next morning, I put on my little backpack, tucked the photo safely in my pocket, and snuck out of the house. 【Cassie is so cute today! She looks like a little doll with her backpack. But why is she walking to school by herself instead of waiting for the driver?】 【She’s not going to school, silly! She’s going to find her grandpa!】 【YES, CASSIE! Get away from your trash dad! Get away from this trash life!】 Trash dad… the Aunties were so right! Just this morning, Mrs. Gable told me Dad was planning to turn my princess room into a room for the new baby. Mom had decorated that room for me herself. He was just going to give it away without even asking me. It was so unfair! I clenched my little fists and marched away from home with new determination. The problem was, our house was in a gated community up in the hills. There were no buses or taxis. I had to walk all the way down the mountain, step by step. Luckily, with the Aunties’ comments keeping me company, I wasn’t scared at all. From their hints, I learned that Grandpa was still drowning in guilt over Mom’s death, and because of it, my uncle and aunt had grown distant from him. 【Cassie, if your grandpa, uncle, and aunt would just team up, neither the Reeds nor the Sterlings would stand a chance against them.】 “Team up with Grandpa, Uncle, and Aunt. Got it,” I whispered, looking up at the sky with a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, Aunties. Cassie remembers.” Suddenly, the Comments started scrolling so fast I could barely read them. 【CASSIE, RUN!】 【Mrs. Gable and the driver are coming out to look for you! Hide!】 【If they catch you, your dad and Joanna will send you away to the countryside!】 【Don’t panic, Cassie! There’s a small path to your left! Run down that path!】 4 I glanced to my left and saw it—a barely visible trail hidden in the bushes. It had rained yesterday, and the path was a mess of slick, deep mud. I hesitated. I was wearing my prettiest dress and my special princess shoes to meet Grandpa. If I took that path, they would be ruined. 【Go on, Cassie! Take that leap of faith! The Aunties are right here with you!】 【This is the last muddy path you’ll have to walk in your life, Cassie. Push through it! Your grandpa is waiting.】 【You can do it, sweetie!】 Seeing all the encouragement from the Aunties, I didn’t hesitate anymore. I took a deep breath and plunged into the bushes. The path was so, so hard to walk on. I fell five times. My arms and legs were scratched by branches, and I almost lost the photo of Grandpa. But I didn’t dare cry or stop. Finally, following the Comments’ guidance, I reached the massive, gleaming tower of the Vance Corporation. 【He’s here, Cassie! Grandpa is here!!!】 【He’s right at the main entrance!】 【This is it, Cassie! The moment that changes your destiny is NOW!】 The excited comments chased away my tears. I sniffled loudly, sucking back a runaway drip, and broke into a run, my little legs pumping as fast as they could. I spotted him immediately—my grandpa, looking powerful and distinguished, surrounded by people in suits. He was about to get into a car and didn’t see the small child hurtling toward him across the vast lobby. “Grandpa, wait for me!” I cried out, my voice small in the cavernous space. I was so scared he would leave that I wasn’t watching where I was going. My foot caught, and I went down, hard. Splat. It was over. I’d never reach him now. The thought hit me, and a huge, heartbroken sob escaped. “Waaaaah!” My crying, it turned out, got his attention. I heard his deep voice ask an assistant, “Robert, what is that… filthy… thing?” 5 A thing? Was his eyesight that bad? I’m not a thing, I’m Cassie! I scrambled back to my feet and waved with all my might. “Grandpa! I’m your granddaughter!” He turned, his sharp eyes finding me. He stared for a long moment. I got nervous. My face was a mess of tears and snot, but I did my best to smile, just like Dad always said Mom did—with my eyes crinkling into little crescent moons. It worked. He started walking toward me, his long strides closing the distance between us. He knelt down, pulling out a silk handkerchief and gently wiping the mud from my face. “Little one,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft, “what is your mother’s name?” I stopped crying and answered him seriously. “Grandpa, my mommy’s name is Seraphina Vance.” “Seraphina…” At the sound of her name, his eyes instantly turned red. He composed himself after a moment, but his gaze turned cold and dismissive. “You’re Landon Reed’s daughter? What are you doing here?” His harsh tone made my heart tremble, but I gathered my courage and held out the photo Mom gave me. “Grandpa, Mom said if Dad ever stopped loving me, I could bring this photo to you.” “Half a photo? Your mother tore it to pieces, and she had the nerve to give it to you as a keepsake? Let me tell you something. From the day she insisted on marrying that man, the Vance family no longer had a daughter named Seraphina. And I am not your grandfather!” He didn’t take me in. He just got angrier. He tossed the photo to the ground like it was trash. “Robert, call Landon Reed. Tell him to come get his daughter immediately.” What? He was going to send me back to my trash dad? No! I couldn’t go back! I started to panic, but the Aunties in the Comments rushed to my rescue. 【Cassie, he’s all bark and no bite! Just be sweet to him, and he’ll let you ride on his shoulders while you eat popcorn!】 【Roll up your sleeves! Show him your cuts! Your trash dad is about to have a very, very bad day.】 【HUG HIS LEG, CASSIE! HUG IT TIGHT!】 Hug his leg! Okay! I followed their instructions, dropping to the floor and wrapping my arms tightly around his leg. “Grandpa, please, please don’t call my dad!” I wailed. “He and Joanna will send me to the countryside! Joanna said she’s going to sell me!” As I spoke, I pulled up my sleeve. The stiff fabric of my princess dress scraped against a fresh cut, and I couldn’t help but hiss in pain. Grandpa went rigid. This time, he didn’t push me away. He knelt down again, his eyes locking onto my arm. “What is this? Are you hurt?” 6 【He’s worried!】 【The second he saw she was hurt, the act dropped completely!】 【It’s only natural. If a sweetheart like this was my granddaughter, I’d give her my life!】 The Aunties were celebrating, but I was too scared to move. Grandpa’s presence was overwhelming, and he still looked furious. “Is this how Landon Reed takes care of you? He dresses you in dirty, torn clothes and beats you black and blue?” Huh? He thought Dad did this? It was from when I fell. I was about to explain when a new comment popped up. 【Let Grandpa see the ‘truth,’ Cassie. These injuries are from Landon Reed.】 【If you can squeeze out a tear or two right now, Cassie, your grandpa will go to war for you.】 【Tell him everything, Cassie. Tell him how Joanna bullies you.】 Just thinking about Joanna sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t have to squeeze. Tears started rolling down my cheeks all on their own. Before I could even get a word out, Grandpa was shrugging off his expensive suit jacket and draping it over my small shoulders. His expression turned dark and stormy. “Robert,” he commanded, his voice deadly calm, “inform Landon Reed that as of today, Cassie is no longer his daughter. Furthermore, I want a full report on the Reed Corporation’s latest investment portfolio. He dares to treat a Vance like this? I’ll make him pay three times over.” Pay? Grandpa was scary. I trembled, too frightened to speak. But the Aunties were ecstatic. 【Grandpa is such a badass! No wonder he’s my favorite character!】 【Does anyone else feel like this tragedy just turned into a revenge fantasy?】 【I suddenly can’t wait for Cassie’s uncle and aunt to get home.】 Home? But Grandpa hadn’t said I could stay with him yet. I gathered my courage and looked up at him. He was already looking at me, his eyes red-rimmed again. With one strong arm, he scooped me up. “Little girl, I’m only going to ask you this once. Do you want to go back to the Reeds, or do you want to come home with me to the Vances?” He wanted me to stay! I was so happy, but the tears just came faster. “The Vances! I want to go home with Grandpa! The other house is Joanna and Dad’s house now. Whenever I don’t listen to her, she threatens to throw me out.” I looked up at him, my voice a tiny whisper. “Grandpa, will you throw me out?” He didn’t answer. He just held my gaze, his voice turning to ice as he spoke to his assistant. “Robert. I want you to find out everything there is to know about this woman named Joanna.” 7 That day, Grandpa canceled all his meetings. He didn’t talk to me much, but he had Robert buy me over thirty new outfits, a trunk full of dolls and toys, and then he drove me back to his mansion himself. He stayed with me through dinner and had a maid give me a bath. The maid told me that Grandpa was usually the only one who lived in the huge house. My uncle only visited once or twice a year, and my aunt hadn’t been back in years. “Is Grandpa very lonely then?” I asked. “The Chairman is a very busy man. He isn’t home much, dear.” Oh. I looked down, a little disappointed. But after Mom left, I was used to being alone. It was okay. After my bath, Grandpa told me to meet him in his study. On my way, I passed a closed door on the second floor, and the Comments popped up. 【Cassie, that’s your mom’s room.】 【Even though Grandpa says he disowned her, he’s kept her room exactly as it was, waiting for her to come home.】 【You should ask for this room, Cassie. He’ll definitely let you have it.】 Really? I could sleep in Mom’s room? Excited, I ran into Grandpa’s study. He was reading a document and barely glanced up, but his cold gaze was enough to freeze me in place. “What’s your name,” he asked, his voice flat. “Grandpa, my name is Cassie Reed. Mom picked it out.” “Cassie Reed… Listen carefully. The only reason you’re staying here is because I won’t have the world thinking a Vance can be pushed around. But this house has rules. If you don’t follow them, you will be punished.” There was a long, thin ruler on his desk. I couldn’t help but shrink back. So that’s where Mom learned to tap my palm when I was naughty. He caught my small movement, and the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. Seeing that his mood had improved, I took a chance. “Grandpa, can I sleep in Mom’s old room?” He frowned. “No.” “Then… can you sleep with me tonight?” “You’re too old to be sleeping with someone. Now, get out.” He was angry. I backed out of the study, my heart sinking. The moment the door closed, I started to wipe away my tears. The Aunties patiently explained. 【Give him some time, Cassie. Your mom’s death is a thorn in his heart.】 【Your mom was his favorite child, and you’re a miniature version of her. It’s not that he doesn’t love you; it’s that he’s afraid to.】 【You’ve already escaped your trash dad and stepmom, Cassie. That’s a huge win! We’ll take it slow. He’ll come around eventually.】 The Aunties were right. Grandpa was grumpy, but he wasn’t a bad person. If I was a good girl, he would learn to like me. That night, I slept soundly. I vaguely smelled the faint, comforting scent of cigars near my bed. I must have been dreaming of Grandpa because I missed him so much. But the next morning, my dad and Joanna, who were supposed to be on vacation in the Maldives, stormed into the Vance Corporation. Dad saw me standing behind Grandpa and his face lit up. He held out his hands. “Cassie, come here. Dad will take you home.” 8 “I… I want to stay with Grandpa.” I refused, tightening my grip on Grandpa’s hand. Grandpa let me hold on, a slow, arrogant smile spreading across his face. “You heard her, Landon. Cassie doesn’t want to go with you. She’s a Vance now.” He gave Robert a look. “Give him the custody agreement.” Robert handed two folders to my dad. “Mr. Reed, the first is the custody transfer agreement. The second is—” “Silas Vance, when did I ever agree to this? You and Seraphina cut ties years ago. You have no right to take Cassie.”

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The year Wil lost his memory, I told him a lie. I told him I was his girlfriend. Later, against all odds, I got pregnant. He was ecstatic. He got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. But just as I thought my secret, lifelong crush was finally about to have a happy ending, his memory came rushing back. He accused me of being a manipulative liar, swore he would never acknowledge the child, and had me dragged to a clinic to terminate the pregnancy. I died on that table, taking our child with me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that same hospital room. 1 Wil was still lying on the hospital bed, his eyes shut tight. The air in the room was thick with a suffocating tension. I remembered the doctor’s words: if he didn’t wake up today, he would likely remain in a vegetative state. Wil’s mother, Catherine, was weeping softly while my own mom tried to comfort her. “There’s still time,” my mom murmured. “He’ll wake up. I know he will.” The specific details of Wil’s awakening were a blur in my memory, but my mom was right. He was going to wake up. My mother turned and saw me standing there, lost in a daze. She waved me over. “Nora, honey, come talk to Wil for a bit. Let Catherine have a rest.” At the sound of my name, Catherine looked over, her eyes red and swollen. These two women had doted on me my entire life. Even later, after Wil’s memory returned and he turned on me, they had both stood firmly by my side. But this time… I wanted to refuse, but I couldn’t. Not now. Just as I reached the bedside, Wil’s eyelids fluttered. He opened his eyes, and we stared at each other. I never thought I would see him look at me with such calm neutrality again. In my last life, after his memory returned, his gaze was always filled with a chilling malice. We never again shared a proper meal, or even a single civil conversation. He called me a scheming bitch and swore the baby in my belly wasn’t his. I knew I was in the wrong, so I accepted his anger. But why did he have to go back on his word? Why did he have to destroy my child? Our child. A storm of emotion raged inside me, making it impossible to stay calm. I looked away, taking an involuntary step back. Catherine rushed forward, her voice choked with relief. Soon after, Wil’s father and my own dad arrived. Wil was awake. It was a miracle. But he had amnesia. After her tears subsided, Catherine began to reintroduce him to his life. “Wil, this is your Uncle David and Aunt Helen. Our families have been friends for generations.” “And this,” she said, her gaze falling on me, “is Nora, David’s daughter… and she’s your—” My name snapped me back to reality. The words burst out of me before I could stop them. “His sister!” 2 It was a reflex. I hadn’t forgotten. In the last life, Catherine had sealed my fate with a single sentence. At this exact moment, she had introduced me to the memory-wiped Wil as his girlfriend. The truth was, Wil already had a girlfriend. Seraphina Vance. But in Catherine’s eyes, Seraphina was largely to blame for the accident. A few days before the crash, she had demanded they get engaged. Wil refused. In a fit of anger, Seraphina broke up with him and booked a flight out of the country. The accident happened while Wil was racing to the airport to stop her. Catherine had never liked Seraphina, and this incident only solidified her prejudice. She had told me to use Wil’s amnesia as an opportunity for us to build a real relationship. Sometimes I wondered—if both our parents could see how much I loved Wil, could he really have been oblivious? No. He knew. He just dismissed it as a childhood crush, the affection of a little sister for her older brother. In my past life, Catherine’s suggestion had made my heart pound with a dangerous hope. And what made me fall completely was how easily Wil accepted it. For the rest of his recovery, he wanted only me by his side. Our relationship began with a lie and ended when the truth returned. He was convinced I was a pathological liar, that even our child was part of some elaborate scheme. No matter how I tried to explain that night was an accident, he refused to believe me. I had no credibility left in his eyes. You were cruel to me, Wil. But you were just as cruel to your own child. I pressed a hand to my flat stomach, a phantom ache twisting inside me like a knife. That baby… it never even had a chance to grow. It was my fault. So how could I possibly let myself make the same mistake all over again? Catherine, after a moment of surprise, quickly went along with my new story. “That’s right! You two grew up together, you’re closer than real siblings!” The adults launched into nostalgic stories from our childhood, their laughter filling the room. Only Wil was silent, his deep, dark eyes fixed on me. 3 The doctors rushed in to run a full examination. I used the commotion as an excuse to slip away. As I walked out of the hospital’s main entrance, the whole world felt like a dream. I couldn’t tell which was the dream: this second chance, or the twisted love and hate I’d shared with Wil. My head was about to explode when my phone rang. I stared at the caller ID for a long time before answering. Ethan Cole’s voice was urgent. “Nora? Where are you?” “I… Ethan? Why… why are you calling me right now?” Ethan was my desk-mate in high school. He’d also once pretended to be my boyfriend. After I found out about Seraphina, I’d stubbornly told Wil that I was seeing someone too. Wil had frozen for a second, then laughed, ruffling my hair with a little too much force. “Look at you, little girl. All grown up.” His tone was so condescending, as if he were decades older, not just a few years. A couple of days later, he’d insisted on meeting my new boyfriend for dinner. I couldn’t think of anyone else, so I begged Ethan to help. At dinner, Ethan was perfect—attentive, charming, everything a good boyfriend should be. Wil had even remarked, with a self-deprecating smirk, “He’s better at taking care of you than I am.” But after dinner, he’d pulled me aside. “I can see that he likes you,” he’d said, his eyes serious. “But I can’t see that you like him.” His words had left a sour, bitter taste in my mouth. Because he was right. I didn’t like Ethan that way. Not long after, Ethan confessed his feelings for me. I turned him down, but he insisted we stay friends. It wasn’t until after Wil’s memory returned, after he had cast me aside, that Ethan confessed his love for me again. By then, I was pregnant, exhausted, and utterly broken. I had no space in my life for anything else. And then… I died. “Don’t ask so many questions,” Ethan’s voice crackled through the phone, pulling me from my thoughts. “I need to see you. Right now. Tell me where you are.” My brain sputtered. At this point in time, Ethan should have just been rejected by me. He was supposed to be on a business trip out of state. 4 After I hung up, an incredible thought took root in my mind. If I could be reborn, why couldn’t Ethan? After all, only the Ethan from the future called me ‘Nora’ with that kind of warmth. Before, it was always just ‘Hayes’. My suspicion was confirmed moments later. A car screeched to a halt, and Ethan jumped out, running towards me. He pulled me into a fierce, desperate hug. The chaotic mix of joy and terror on his face was something only I could understand. “Sorry, I’m just… I had this horrible dream,” he stammered, his voice muffled in my hair. “You were… there was so much blood…” Trapped in his arms, I slowly lowered my eyes. We were both back. But I didn’t want to relive any of it. “It was just a dream,” I said, forcing a light, easy laugh. “Don’t be so dramatic.” He held me at arm’s length, studying my face for a long moment before his own features relaxed into a smile. The light in his eyes was steady and determined, a stark contrast to the dejected look he’d worn after I rejected him in our first life. “You’re right,” he said. “But that dream made me realize something. I need to be with you, to make sure you’re safe.” He took a deep breath. “Nora, I’m not going to rush you. So please, don’t rush to reject me again, okay?” The heat in his gaze was searing. I instinctively tried to pull away, unsure of what to say. Just then, a familiar, cool voice sliced through the air from behind us. “Not okay.” …It was Wil. Leaning on his assistant, he walked towards us, his eyes locked on me. His expression was a complex tapestry of emotions I couldn’t unravel: unfamiliarity, dependence, a strange tenderness, and… was that hurt? What did he have to be hurt about? “Wil, you—” Ethan started, his shock quickly turning to wariness. But Wil ignored him completely. What he said next left me speechless. “I may have lost my memory for now, but that doesn’t mean it won’t come back.” His gaze softened, and his voice dropped to an almost pleading tone. “I didn’t believe what my mother told me at first. But seeing you with him just now… I believe her.” He took a shaky breath. “Nora, I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry I forgot how much I love you. But until I remember, please… don’t consider anyone else, okay?” 5 I had no idea what kind of madness had possessed Wil. As he and Ethan squared off in a tense standoff, I turned and fled. Two days later, my mom showed up at my apartment. “After you left that day,” she explained, “Catherine told Wil that you’re the girl he’s in love with, that he was in the middle of chasing you when the accident happened. She told him you’re just mad at him because his amnesia is a convenient excuse.” She sighed. “You’ve been ignoring him for two days. That’s long enough. Come with me to the hospital.” …If I weren’t the subject of the lie, I would have applauded Catherine’s storytelling skills. No wonder Wil had acted so bizarrely. But why was he so easily fooled by a different lie this time around? Two days had been enough for me to process this new reality. I didn’t believe Wil ever intended for me to die. It was my own fault for chasing a love that wasn’t meant for me. He simply didn’t love me. I couldn’t change our families’ intertwined history, and I couldn’t change other people. I could only change myself. I tried to use work at my art studio as an excuse. My mom gave me a puzzled look. “When Wil first had his accident, you were worried sick. Now you can’t even be bothered to visit him? Did you two have a fight?” I almost didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Mom, the man doesn’t remember anything. What could we possibly fight about? I’m just really busy, and besides, he’s fine now, isn’t he?” Some truths were destined to be mine alone. My mom knew me better than anyone, but she would never guess that I had been reborn. But while my mom was easy to put off, Ethan was not. Luckily, I had no intention of keeping him in the dark. In our first life, by the time Ethan returned from his business trip, Wil and I were already a couple. He’d been furious, trying to shake some sense into me, telling me to stop deluding myself. But the amnesiac Wil had eyes only for me, and I was already drowning in the fantasy. With our parents’ full support, I was willing to gamble. I just happened to lose. 6 I wasn’t surprised when Ethan showed up at my studio. After a few days of watching this new, unfamiliar timeline unfold, even the densest person would have figured it out. “Nora, you’re… you are, aren’t you?” I met his complicated gaze, poured him a cup of tea, and gave a slight nod. He shot to his feet, his face a mask of shock. His lips trembled as if he had a thousand things to say, but in the end, all he asked was, “Do you… still love him?” Wil? I lowered my eyes, a bitter smile on my lips. “I love my own life.” You only understand what’s most important after you’ve lost it. I couldn’t even save myself, let alone my child. At the thought of the baby, the question I’d been holding back finally escaped. “Did I really… die on that table?” I whispered. “Did Wil… did he ever show up? My parents…” If they knew Wil was the one who sent me to that clinic, the one responsible for my death, the pain would destroy them. Maybe I never should have tried to fight for him after his memory came back. I was too selfish. I squeezed my eyes shut, missing the flash of pale horror on Ethan’s face. “I… I don’t know the details,” he said, his voice strained. “I had this awful feeling that day. By the time I found you, it was already too late. Then, I just… closed my eyes, and I was back.” He stared at me, his tone urgent. “Nora, this time, please, stay away from him! If you do, there won’t be a baby. You’ll just be you. He’s going to get his memory back eventually, his girlfriend will return, and then—” “I know,” I interrupted softly. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. But the memories came flooding back anyway. That day, Wil already looked furious, but I was still lost in fantasies of our wedding. I’d excitedly presented him with a stack of bridal magazines. He swiped them from my hands, sending them scattering across the floor. He told me I made him sick. The next day, he flew across the ocean and brought Seraphina back. I covered my face with my hands, willing the images away. Long after Ethan left, I remained seated, the pot of tea growing cold. And then, Wil arrived.

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Yvonne Heath was dead. Her life had been one of hardship, and in the end, she was pushed from a second-story window, blood pooling between her legs. She was still clutching an ultrasound photo that read, “12 weeks gestation.” Before she died, she said to me, “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired. I can’t go on.” “From now on, you live for me.” So I took her place. From now on, I am Yvonne Heath. 1 I awoke in a hospital. Every cell in my body screamed in pain. An IV was taped to the back of my hand, cold liquid dripping slowly into my veins. The man sitting by the bed closed his laptop and looked at me, his expression cold. “You’re awake.” I stared at him, saying nothing. “The baby’s gone.” “It’s for the best. A vicious woman like you doesn’t deserve to be the mother of my child.” “Now that our last connection is severed, we’ll get a divorce as soon as you’re discharged.” “Why aren’t you saying anything?” He frowned, his glare sharpening. “Don’t think you can just stonewall me. Without the baby, what other tricks do you have left?” His every word was nauseating. I fought down the bile rising in my throat and looked away. But he wouldn’t allow it, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “Yvonne, speak!” We were close, so close I could feel the heat of his breath. His name was Jasper Cain. He was the man Yvonne had loved for twenty years. If she were here now, she would be feeling a pain like a knife to the heart. Her whole life had been one long misunderstanding. She had a voice, but no matter how many times she explained, no one ever believed her. As she said, she was tired. Death was a release. But I am not Yvonne. I don’t feel pain when I’m misunderstood. I don’t swallow injustice in silence. There was a vase of flowers on the nightstand. I grabbed it and threw it at his head. It didn’t hurt him, but it caught him off guard, forcing him to stumble back. I ripped the IV from my hand, seized the metal stool beside the bed, and swung it at him with all my might. The rebuke on his lips died before it was born. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious. I gasped for breath, my hand dropping to my side. Blood dripped from my bruised knuckles onto the floor, like crimson blossoms. Yvonne, if you’re watching, watch closely. See how I live. 2 Jasper’s injuries weren’t serious. He was just knocked out and stayed in the hospital for two days. After that, apart from the nurses and doctors on their rounds, my room was silent. I wasn’t lonely. I was focused on recovering, doing light exercises every day. I was going to live a long, long life. On the day I was discharged, I took a taxi home. The moment I stepped through the door, the lively atmosphere in the living room froze. I surveyed the newly decorated house. Pink balloons and ribbons were everywhere. In the center of the room, on a large table, sat a massive two-tiered cake. The woman at the heart of the celebration wore a soft white dress, her long hair flowing around her like a halo. It was her. The one who had pushed Yvonne down the stairs with a smile on her face, not a trace of malice in her eyes. Her name was Celia Rowe, Jasper’s one true love, the one he could never forget. On countless nights, as he’d pinned Yvonne beneath him, it was Celia’s name he’d whispered. To be fair, they were a perfect match. A match made in hell. No one in the large living room spoke. I smiled as if nothing was wrong and walked toward them. “What a party. Why wasn’t I invited?” Jasper instinctively moved to shield Celia, as if I were some kind of monster. “Yvonne, I suggest you behave—” He didn’t finish his sentence. I slapped him across the face. My palm stung. But I knew his cheek stung just as much, and that was all that mattered. “Do you really think you’re some kind of brooding CEO from a novel? Why do you talk so much?” I pushed him aside impatiently and smiled sweetly at Celia. Celia’s face was pale. She clutched at her dress, looking at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Miss Rowe, don’t look so frightened. You should know, until today, I’ve never laid a hand on you.” “Yvonne, how dare you say that?” Jasper interjected. “What about Celia’s car accident? Wasn’t that you? And the time she hurt her fingers…” I slapped him again, this time with my other hand, and deftly blocked his retaliatory shove. My daily hospital workouts were paying off. Celia put on a fragile, terrified act. “Miss Heath, please don’t misunderstand. Jasper is just worried about me…” “Oh, I don’t misunderstand at all. He’s just taking his anger out on me. That’s fine.” My gaze slid back to Jasper. His face was a mask of disbelief. In his mind, Yvonne was silent, invisible, submissive. She was never supposed to be this aggressive. I turned back to Celia. Her eyes flickered with alarm, and she took an unconscious step back. But I couldn’t let her get away. That long, silky hair… it would be a shame not to pull some of it out. I reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair. As she shrieked, I yanked her head down and shoved her face into the cake. Happy birthday, Miss Rowe! 3 The living room descended into chaos. Screams and curses filled the air. The maids rushed forward to rescue Celia. Jasper aimed a kick at my stomach. He was smart. He knew this body was still weak from the miscarriage, that a blow like that would be devastating. But I wasn’t about to let that happen. I used Celia as a shield. As Celia let out another scream, Jasper roared, “Yvonne, are you insane? Do you want me to have you committed?” He had the power to do it. The heir to the mighty Cain fortune could make an orphan girl disappear into a mental institution without a trace. He could have me killed, and no one would ever know. I picked up the cake knife and pressed it to Celia’s throat. Such a slender, pale neck. If I broke the skin, would the blood flow as freely as it had when Yvonne fell? With her life in my hands, Celia fell silent. Jasper was furious, but he had no choice but to try and reason with me. “Don’t be rash,” he urged. But I wasn’t being rash at all. In fact, I was quite enjoying observing the expressions on everyone’s faces. “Jasper, didn’t you want to divorce me?” I asked with a smile. He choked for a second, then a look of “I knew it” crossed his face. “If you don’t want a divorce, we can talk. But don’t you dare do anything stupid. If you so much as touch a hair on her head, I promise, you will regret it.” Threats. Anyone can make threats. “But I’ve already touched quite a few hairs on her head,” I said, looking innocently at the strands of hair caught between my fingers. A small patch of her scalp was now bare. For someone so vain, that had to be torture. If they had just spoken to me nicely, I could have been reasonable. But I am not Yvonne. I do not respond well to threats. So, I pressed the knife harder against her neck. 4 Celia shrieked, clutching at her bleeding neck. “Jasper, save me! She’s crazy!” But what could he do? I had the hostage. He could only glare at me, his eyes darting anxiously to the wound on Celia’s neck. “Yvonne, whatever you want, we can discuss it. Do you really want to go to jail for assault?” The dull blade scraped against her skin. It was more painful that way. “Aren’t you the ones who drove me to this?” I laughed softly. “I’m not afraid of jail. But the moment I’m arrested, the internet will be flooded with stories about how the head of the Cain Corporation abused his wife, cheated with his mistress, and caused her to miscarry. I wonder how that will affect your company’s stock prices.” “That’s nonsense!” he snarled. “You fell down the stairs yourself!” “Did I?” I looked down at Celia. “Miss Rowe, did I really fall by myself?” I pressed the knife a little deeper. “I’m sorry!” she wailed, a mess of tears and snot. “I pushed you! I was jealous! Please forgive me!” Jasper’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Celia, is that true?” “Jasper, please don’t hate me!” she sobbed. “I don’t know what came over me! By the time I realized what I was doing, it was too late! I was just a little jealous… I’m so sorry…” I remembered Yvonne gently stroking her belly, telling me she would love this child with all her heart. I had been callous then, telling her that Jasper didn’t want it, that a child unwanted by its father shouldn’t be born. But Yvonne had been firm. “This is my child. It has nothing to do with Jasper. When we divorce, I’ll take the baby far away.” Then she had asked me, cautiously, “You don’t hate children, do you?” Thinking of this, I suddenly felt tired. The child was gone. My womb was empty. There was no trace that a life had ever been there. I released Celia, letting her slump to the floor. The maids swarmed around her, calling for an ambulance, grabbing a first-aid kit. I stood there, covered in blood, and looked at Jasper. “Didn’t you want a divorce?” I walked over to him and patted his cheek with my blood-stained hand. “Have your lawyer draw up the papers. Everything that’s mine, I want every last cent.” His eyelashes fluttered. He looked up at me, his dark eyes filled with a complex emotion. He ignored my talk of divorce. “Have I… misunderstood a lot of things?” “Misunderstood?” I laughed. “A misunderstanding is when you make an incorrect judgment based on incomplete or inaccurate information. But Yvonne practically tore her heart out and showed it to you. This isn’t a misunderstanding, Jasper. This is you being stupid. Blind.” “And you’ve been blind for a very, very long time.”

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1 I gave up my heiress life to marry Ethan Geller. Right before our wedding, a car crash left me blind. In the darkness, I heard Ethan tell his assistant: “The driver and doctor are silenced. Ms. Christian donated her corneas and will never see again.” “Selene is strong, unlike Lily who can’t live without sight. I’ll care for Selene, but I can’t lose Lily.” His voice turned cold: “Have the doctor remove her uterus. Seeing me with Selene’s child would destroy Lily.” The assistant protested: “But she’s been with you since eighteen—” “Just obey.” An icy chill seized me. The man I loved had chosen the scholarship student I sponsored, and destroyed me for her. So be it. He’d receive no mercy. Footsteps echoed in the hospital room. I forced myself to stay calm, to feign unconsciousness. “Mr. Geller, Ms. Christian just had her corneas removed. Her body is incredibly weak. If we remove her uterus now… she might not survive the stress. I strongly advise we wait…” “I pay you to follow my orders, not to give me advice. This is a command, not a discussion. But if anything happens to Selene, you know the consequences.” The doctor’s voice trembled. “Yes, Mr. Geller.” I felt the searing heat of Ethan’s fingers on my cheek. His voice was a husky, gentle whisper. “Selene, my love. It’ll all be over soon. Don’t worry, I’ll always be here to protect you. I love you, Selene.” A faint tremor ran through me. I felt a cool drop on my cheek, and it seemed like Ethan stood up. Sensing I was about to wake, his voice turned sharp and cold. “Where’s the doctor? Prep for surgery, now. I want it done before she wakes up.” My eyes shot open in terror, but all I saw was an endless, suffocating black. Tears streamed down my face as my hands flailed in the empty air. “I… why can’t I see?” “Selene, don’t be scared. I’m here. I’m right here.” Ethan pulled me into a tight embrace, his large, warm hand stroking my hair. His deep voice was thick with what sounded like heartbreak. “There was an accident… The doctors say the blindness is only temporary. I’ll take care of you, Selene…” He seemed to nod to someone over my shoulder before continuing. “Shh, you need to rest. You can’t get too emotional right now. The doctor is just going to give you a vitamin shot to help you recover.” If I hadn’t woken up early, if I hadn’t heard everything, I would have believed him without a second thought. But I knew. I knew the so-called vitamin shot was anesthesia, meant to drag me back under. I gripped his arm, my voice a choked sob as I shook my head wildly. “No… Ethan, I don’t want it… I want to go home. Please, can we just go home…?” Before I could finish, the cold prick of a needle pierced my skin. As my consciousness dissolved into blackness, the last thing I heard was Ethan’s voice, as gentle as it had always been. “It’s okay, Selene. Just sleep. It’ll be all over when you wake up. I’m here. You’re going to be okay.” Silent tears traced paths down my temples. My body was numb, but my heart was being torn apart. I closed my eyes, succumbing to the despair. In the darkness, an image flashed—an eighteen-year-old Ethan, his eyes red and swollen, crying by my bedside, calling me a fool for taking a knife for him. The boy’s fierce, unwavering promise echoed in my mind. “Selene, I swear, I will never let anyone hurt you again.” But the one who hurt me the most, the one who was taking my life piece by piece, was him. The next time I woke, I hadn’t just lost my eyes and the man I loved. I had lost the chance to ever have a child of my own. I opened my eyes to a room so quiet all I could hear was my own shallow breathing. Soon, the faint sound of an argument drifted in from the hallway. “Selene had an accident! I have to take care of her. She’s been so good to me. If it wasn’t for her, I’d still be in the slums. I owe her my life, you can’t stop me…” It was Lily, the student I’d sponsored. And Ethan, a man who never tolerated defiance, spoke with no trace of anger. “Lily, listen to me. Your eyes just healed. The doctor said you need to rest, you can’t be moving around. Selene will have people to look after her. You don’t need to worry.” My hand clenched the bedsheets. When did Lily go blind? And why didn’t I know anything about it? A sharp sting on the back of my hand made me flinch. A nurse had jabbed a needle into my vein. “Don’t move!” she snapped, her voice dripping with irritation. She pressed down harder, as if to punish me. “Some people have all the luck. They get to attend to Mr. Geller’s precious Lily, and I’m stuck here with a blind wreck.” Her muttering continued, “If Miss Lily would just put in a good word for me with Mr. Geller, I’d never have to look at another pathetic patient like you again…” CRASH! The sound of a glass vial shattering on the floor cut her off. “Ah! Who dares— M-Mr. Geller! What are you doing here…?” The nurse’s voice went from angry to terrified. Ethan’s voice, cold with fury, echoed through the room, making my blood run cold. “Get out. And never let me see you again.” A familiar warmth enveloped me as his body, trembling slightly, surrounded me. His voice was thick with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Selene. I’m late. I’m so sorry you had to go through that…” A bitter smile twisted my lips. Compared to having my eyes and my womb stolen by him, this was nothing. But he seemed consumed by remorse, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” I whispered. “I want to go home.” His warm breath ghosted across my neck. “As soon as the doctor clears you, I’ll take you home.” He didn’t know that the home I meant wasn’t his villa. It was the Christian estate, the seat of one of the capital’s most powerful families. Years ago, during a period of internal turmoil within the family, my father sent me to the coastal city of Seacliff to hide. But my enemies found me anyway. I was cornered in an alley when Ethan appeared, taking a knife that was meant for me. In that single moment, love at first sight became my reality. We ended up at the same university, falling into a passionate romance that was the envy of everyone around us. That was when Lily appeared. I saw her eating plain bread for every meal, and my heart went out to her, recognizing her talent. So, I decided to sponsor her. She was endlessly grateful, and we became inseparable friends. I just never knew when she and Ethan ended up in the same bed. Or when he started loving her instead of me. Ethan tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Selene, let’s go ahead with the wedding tomorrow, okay? I can’t wait to make you my wife, to call you Mrs. Geller.” The wedding I had dreamed of for years now felt like a nightmare waiting to happen. I shook my head softly. “No.” He was stunned by my refusal. He let go of me, explaining with uncharacteristic patience, “I know you’re scared. Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything. I’ll make sure no one dares to say a word about your… condition. Lily will be your maid of honor, she’ll help you.” “And the officiant is Julian Christian, the head of the Christian family from the capital. I promised you the grandest wedding, and I’ll deliver.” Hearing my older brother’s name, my hand shot out and gripped his sleeve. The Christians didn’t know I was in Seacliff. They certainly didn’t know that Ethan Geller’s fiancée was me. After refusing an arranged marriage to a blue-blooded scion, I’d run away from home in a fit of anger and never contacted them again. A sour knot formed in my stomach. I couldn’t imagine the look on my brother’s face when he saw me like this—broken and blind. Suddenly, a weight settled on my arm, followed by a bright, anxious voice. “Selene! I was so worried about you! Don’t you worry, from now on, I’ll be your eyes. I’ll take care of you forever…” Ethan cut her off, a hint of unease in his voice. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lily. Selene’s blindness is only temporary.” Lily caught on immediately, resting her head on my shoulder. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Maybe by tomorrow, Selene’s eyes will be all better! Then she can walk down the aisle in her beautiful dress and marry the wonderful Mr. Geller. Oh, Selene, I’m so happy for you.” That innocent, harmless act. It had fooled me for so long. An assistant brought in the wedding gown, and soon it was just me and Lily in the room. “Selene, I heard you designed this dress yourself. It’s stunning. But… the size is a little too big on me, you know?” RRRRIP! The sharp sound of fabric tearing was deafening in the silent room. I knew she had just destroyed my wedding dress. “A blind girl like you has no use for such a beautiful gown anyway. This hospital gown suits you much better.” SPLASH! A searing pain shot through my eyes, like they were being branded with hot irons. The agony stole my voice. My hands trembled as I tried to wipe away the liquid. Lily grabbed my wrists, her grip like steel. Her voice was a venom-laced whisper in my ear. “Your blindness had nothing to do with the car crash, Selene. I just casually mentioned I wanted your eyes, and I never thought Ethan would actually have them cut out for me. The funny thing is, I don’t even need them. They’re filthy. I wouldn’t even feed them to a dog.” “So, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll disappear. Otherwise… who knows what another casual remark from me might make him do to you?” The acidic liquid burned my eyes, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony shredding my heart. The sound of leather shoes approached. Lily roughly wiped the fluid from my eyes, then yanked my hand up into the air. SLAP! A fiery sting exploded across my palm. Before I could process what happened, a powerful shove sent me stumbling backward. My head slammed into the wall behind me, and a high-pitched ringing filled my ears. “Selene! You’ve lost your sight, not your mind! How could you hit Lily? She’s still recovering!” I couldn’t see the expression on Ethan’s face, but his voice was a torrent of fury. I knew he had lost control. In all the years we’d been together, he had never been this angry. His voice, dripping with menace, echoed above me. “Apologize to her. Now. Or the wedding is off.” He knew how much this wedding meant to me, that my greatest wish for years was to walk down the aisle and marry him. Just as he expected, I lowered my head as if I were the one at fault. The residue in my eyes stung with every blink. My voice trembled with pain. “I’m sorry, Lily.” A cold, dismissive voice came from the doorway. “I’ll have someone pick you up at eight tomorrow morning.” What Ethan didn’t know was that for me, tomorrow’s wedding wasn’t a celebration. It was an escape. It was the day I would finally leave him for good. The next morning, an assistant picked me up. Just as Lily had said, I arrived at the venue wearing nothing but my hospital gown. The hem of her own dress brushed against my bare ankles as she placed the veil over my head. She let out a small, mocking laugh. “Happy wedding day, Selene. You really think putting on a veil makes you a bride? It’s just to hide your useless eyes so you don’t embarrass everyone.” When she didn’t see the despair she expected on my face, her good mood soured. But before she could say more, Ethan’s displeased voice cut through the air. “Where is the gown I had prepared for you? Selene, are you trying to punish me? You’re going to marry me looking like this?” The assistant led me towards a dressing room. As I was about to remove the hospital gown, a man’s excited voice came from behind me. “Well, well. She’s a blind one, but she’s a real looker. Don’t you scream, now, sweetheart. I’ll be sure to take good care of you.” His hands were on me, violently tearing at my clothes. I fought back with all my strength, but he was too strong. I opened my mouth and bit down hard on his arm. “You little bitch!” Enraged, he threw me to the floor. His hot, ragged breath washed over my neck. Just as he ripped my gown open, a sharp, surprised female voice cried out from the doorway. “Selene! How could you, on your wedding day with Mr. Geller? How could you do this to him…?” The man above me froze, then spoke in a casual, panting voice. “She’s the one who came onto me. I’m not interested in some blind piece of trash.” As soon as he finished, a chorus of accusations erupted around me. The vicious words were like venomous snakes, striking from all directions. “I can’t believe his fiancée is blind!” “No wonder she’s blind. To throw away a man like Mr. Geller to cheat with someone else… tsk, tsk.” “What a shameless tramp!” I scrambled to cover my exposed body, pulling my torn clothes around me. I buried my head in my knees, my entire body shaking violently. Suddenly, the room fell silent, the only sound a set of heavy, deliberate footsteps. “Selene. You dared to betray me?” A hand clamped around my neck, squeezing hard. Ethan’s eyes, I imagined, were bloodshot, the veins on his hands bulging. I used every last bit of my strength to force out three words. “I… did… not…” The feeling of suffocation closed in. Just as I thought I would pass out, he released my throat, only to grab my chin in a bruising grip. “Selene, you of all people should know how much I hate betrayal. You must have lost your mind to throw yourself at a man like that. Fine. In that case, you won’t be needing to attend this wedding.” “Security! Take her to the psychiatric hospital!” As hands grabbed me, forcing me to my feet, my heart plummeted. If they sent me to a mental hospital now, I would never make it back to my family. The thought gave me a surge of adrenaline. I twisted violently, breaking free from their grasp, and ran. “Get her!” Ethan’s furious roar echoed behind me, along with the sound of countless running feet. My heart hammered against my ribs. Darkness. I couldn’t see a thing, but I couldn’t stop. I just ran, blindly, desperately, praying for a chance at survival. Suddenly, I slammed into a warm chest. A familiar, urgent voice called out from above. “Selene!” It was my brother. Julian. All the strength drained from my body, and I collapsed into his arms. Seeing my pale, bloodless face, Julian reached up to cup my cheek, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly. “Selene, what have you done to yourself? Where have you been all these years…? I finally… I finally found you.” A single tear fell onto my face. I reached up, wanting to wipe it away for him, but I had no idea where his face was. Julian noticed instantly. “Selene, what’s wrong with your eyes?” Before I could answer, Ethan’s voice, tight with restrained fury, cut through the air. “Selene. Come here.” I flinched. Feeling my terror, Julian gently patted my back, his voice a soothing murmur. “It’s okay, Selene. I’m here. No one is ever going to hurt you again.” I nodded, too choked up to speak, and let my body relax into his embrace. Seeing me close my eyes, resting peacefully against Julian’s shoulder, Ethan’s face darkened into a thunderous mask. He glared at Julian. “Let go of my fiancée.” A flicker of surprise crossed Julian’s eyes before understanding dawned, and a chilling aura began to radiate from him. Just as the tension was about to snap, Lily appeared between them. Seeing Julian’s distinguished air, she offered a sweet, innocent smile. “Sir, her name is Selene Christian. She’s Mr. Geller’s fiancée. She recently went blind and has been… under a lot of stress. She’s not well. It would be best if you let us take her for treatment, before she accidentally hurts you.” Julian’s eyes were stormy. “Get out of my sight.” Humiliation twisted Lily’s pretty face, and her eyes welled with tears. Ethan pulled her into his arms, then waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t care who you are. You’re not walking out of here today.” A group of black-suited bodyguards swarmed forward. A dark, knowing smile played on Julian’s lips. “It’s been a long time since someone was this eager to die.” He let out a soft, sharp whistle. Instantly, three imposing men with the subtle crest of our family tattooed on their necks stormed in. Within moments, the black-suited guards were scattered on the floor. A guest in the crowd gasped. “That’s the Christian family’s elite security detail!” “I heard the head of the family, Julian Christian, was officiating today! I can’t believe it’s really him!” The room erupted. Seeing the murderous look on Julian’s face, many of the more cautious guests began to quietly exit the hotel, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. Lily’s face was a mask of shock. The man protecting me was the head of one of the capital’s most powerful families. Her nails dug into her palms, her eyes overflowing with a venomous envy. “Mr. Christian, there must be some misunderstanding! She’s not worth it! She’s just a blind woman who was in another man’s arms moments ago! You don’t have to…” SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! The sharp cracks of open palms hitting flesh echoed through the room, punctuated by Lily’s piercing screams. “Ahhh!” Julian’s voice was dangerously calm. “Anyone who has ever harmed Selene meets the same end.”

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When the landslide hit, my twin sister and I were trapped together under the same concrete slab. The rescue workers told my mother she had to choose. They could only save one of us. In my first life, my mother chose me. And she resented me for it every day that followed. I was never allowed to eat the best food or wear nice clothes. I had to be first in my class, always. I wasn’t allowed to cry, or laugh, or speak too loudly. I was forbidden from playing with other children. Whenever I faltered, my mother would point to my sister’s portrait on the wall and say, “Your sister died for you. What more could you possibly want?” I understood her pain, so I bore it in silence. Until, at thirty years old, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. My mother’s grief turned to a desperate, twisted rage. “If I had known you were going to die young anyway,” she screamed, “I would have let you die back then!” She never knew that her younger daughter hadn’t died at all. When I found myself back under that slab of concrete, I heard my mother’s voice again. This time, she said, “I choose my younger daughter.” In that moment, I closed my eyes, and all I felt was release. 1 After I died, my soul didn’t leave. It followed my mother and my sister to the hospital. Inside the ambulance, my mother’s face, still young, was etched with a tenderness I had never seen. She gently combed through my sister’s mud-caked bangs with her fingertips. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and splashed onto my sister’s face, her eyes filled with the raw, astonished joy of having gotten something back from the dead. The wail of sirens screamed outside, but inside the rattling metal box, there was only the sound of my mother’s soft, urgent whispers, a world unto themselves. “Maya. Maya, wake up. Look at Mom. Open your eyes and look at Mom.” Her voice was laced with a gentleness I couldn’t recall ever being directed at me. Not even in my first life, when I was the one lying in this ambulance. 2 In my first life, when the landslide trapped us, the concrete slab was balanced like a seesaw. To save the one on this side, they would have to crush the one on the other. One life for another. Only one of us could survive. My mother couldn’t choose. Not until a rescuer suggested they save whichever one of us responded first. She threw herself against the rubble, screaming our names with a desperation that clawed at the edges of life and death. “Lily!” “Maya!” “Lily!” “Maya!” Over and over… I remember hearing her voice cut through the darkness. It sounded just like it did every morning when she came to wake us up. So, just as I always did from the warmth of my bed, I mumbled, “I’m here, Mom.” A wave of joyful shouts erupted from the world outside. Then came the roar of machinery, the grating sound of shifting rock, and woven through it all, a woman’s desperate sobbing. A blinding light broke through. I was lifted by a dozen hands. Through the dizzying motion, I heard their voices. “This one’s tough.” “She’s got a guardian angel watching over her.” “A shame about the other one.” “Nothing to be done. If they’d waited any longer, they would have lost them both.” I was only five years old. I was too small to understand what they meant. All I wanted was my mom. Where was my mom? I cried out for her, and the voices around me rushed to soothe me. “Your mom’s right here. She’s right beside you. It’s okay, kiddo.” “Sixteen hours under there. She’s in good shape, all things considered. A real fighter.” Through the noise, I searched for my mother’s voice. And then I saw her face—a mask of grief and confusion. Later, I would wonder why I had to be the tough one. 3 My sister and I were twins. Our father was a city bus driver. He died in an accident on the job when we were three, leaving us with a small compensation payout and a cramped apartment in an old, state-owned building. With the pillar of our family gone, my mother clutched his funeral portrait and dragged my sister and me to his boss’s office. Maya and I just stood there, stunned and silent. When we saw our mother crying, we started crying too, howling with a sorrow we didn’t understand. So, during the big layoffs of the 90s, my mother was given a job as a ticket agent. After that, my dad’s portrait was hung on the wall, watching over us, a family of three who had found a way to survive. I used to sneak glances at it, and I always thought he was smiling. Until my sister’s picture was hung up next to his. Then I didn’t dare to look anymore. Because the picture on that wall was supposed to have been me. 4 A family of four became a family of three, and then a family of two. The apartment was always quiet with just the two of us. The front door was always shut, as if to keep the wind out, and with it, the neighbors’ whispers about my mother’s tragic life. But the door to my room was always left open, a permanent invitation for my mother’s gaze to fall upon me. “What are you daydreaming for? Is your homework done?” “Even if it’s done, review it again. You’re not just studying for yourself; you’re studying for your sister, too.” “Tired already? You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You want to drive me to an early grave so you can be free.” “Crying? I’m the one who should be crying. What right do you have to cry?” …I started to dread coming home. But I had nowhere else to go. Everyone knew my dad was dead. Everyone knew my sister had died for me. “Lily, your mom has it hard. You need to be a good girl.” “Lily, what are you doing still out? Your mother is worried sick looking for you.” “Lily, you can’t be selfish.” The neighbors would lecture me whenever they saw me. Without realizing it, I started to walk with my head down, hugging the walls. When I looked up, I would see my mother’s face, a thundercloud of a scowl, the corners of her mouth pulled permanently downward. I hated home, and I hated being around people. But I couldn’t escape either of them. I was only eight years old. 5 I soon discovered that being eight wasn’t so bad. It was the year I started first grade. On the first day of school, our neighbor, Mrs. Gable, popped a piece of candy into my mouth. “First day of school, Lily,” she said, her voice kind. “You study hard now, you hear? Make something of yourself. Your mother is counting on you. As long as you do well in school, she’ll be happy.” I carved those words into my heart. I wanted my mother to be happy, the way she used to be. And it worked. The first time I brought home a report card with all A’s, the corners of my mother’s mouth turned up. So it was true. If I studied hard, my mother would be happy. I threw myself into my studies, always finishing at the top of my class. My mother’s smiles became more frequent. The day I got my acceptance letter to the best magnet middle school in the city, she took me to offer incense to my father and sister, a brilliant, proud smile on her face. I looked at their portraits on the wall, and for a moment, I thought they were smiling, too. So I smiled with them. But the happiness didn’t last. My mother held up my class ranking, her face hard. “You only beat the second-place student by ten points. You used to be twenty points ahead. Are you getting distracted? Are you doing this to spite me? You just want me to die so you can have a better life, don’t you? If it weren’t for you, I would have joined your father and sister long ago. I’m only staying alive for you!” I shook my head frantically. No, that’s not it. I tried to explain. “I don’t know what it is. I’m just hungry all the time. I wake up in the middle of the night so hungry I can’t sleep, and then I’m tired all day.” “Hungry?” she shrieked. “I work myself to the bone to provide for you, and you have the audacity to say you’re hungry? Did I not feed you? Look at your sister! Did she ever get to eat a single meal I cooked? You ungrateful child!” She broke down into racking sobs. I never dared to say I was hungry again. But hunger is a primal thing. One day in class, when my stomach rumbled for the third time, the boy sitting next to me slipped me a palm-sized cereal bar. My face burned with shame, but I ate half of it and carefully tucked the other half away in my backpack. That night, my mother beat me. “Tell me the truth! Did you steal it? You’re already a little thief. You’ll end up in jail, just you wait!” “Don’t you dare call me ‘Mom.’ I don’t have a convict for a daughter.” “Someone gave it to you? Why would they give it to you? What did you do to deserve it?” “And you ate it all yourself? You didn’t save any for your sister? You have no heart!” “Why is my life so miserable? I should have just died! I should have died!” I explained over and over, begged and pleaded. But the belt still fell, again and again. On that cold winter night, I was forced to kneel in my thin pajamas before the portraits of my father and sister until morning came. My forehead was burning as I curled up on the cold floor. Just before I lost consciousness, I saw my mother rush over and pull me into her arms, crying, “Mom was wrong, Mom was wrong.” I looked up, my gaze drifting past her to the portraits on the wall. For the first time, I wondered: why wasn’t my picture on the right? I was thirteen years old, and my body was changing. 6 Old folks say that every time a child gets a fever, they get a little wiser. I think they’re right. The next time my stomach growled, I wisely refused my classmate’s offer of a snack. When I passed a neighbor’s open door and smelled dinner cooking, I wisely refused their kindness. “I’m not hungry.” “I’ll eat at home.” “My mom is already cooking.” My schoolbag was heavy, not just with books, but with a large water bottle. Whenever I felt hungry, I would take a sip of water. The neighbors all praised me for being so sensible. But the boy who sat next to me stopped talking to me altogether. “Whatever. She’s too good for me now,” he muttered to his friends, shooting me a glare. “She eats my cereal bar, and the next day she’s out with a fever. Her mom even came to the school to talk to the teacher. Can you believe that? My mom told me to stay away from her, said she’s her mother’s whole world. If anything happened, we couldn’t afford the trouble.” The other kids snickered. I apologized, embarrassed, explaining that I’d just caught a cold. But more and more of my classmates started to avoid me. One day, the boy leaned over and whispered, “You just dress so weird.” That afternoon, in front of the bathroom mirror at school, I truly saw myself for the first time. I was wearing a shiny, deep purple winter coat. I remembered where it came from—a neighbor had been about to throw it out, and my mother had taken it. I looked at the other kids passing by in the mirror. Most of the girls wore black, but there were other colors too: white, pink, sky blue. Only I wore a shimmering, out-of-place purple. I looked down at my feet, at the clunky, old-fashioned cotton shoes. I was a snail in a purple shell, with thin legs weighed down by heavy shoes. A deep, burning shame washed over me. When I got home, I mustered all my courage and asked for a new black winter coat. Black, I thought, should be fine. But my mother’s face turned just as black. And so came the second beating. “Are you seeing a boy? Is that it? You want new clothes to show off for some boy? Tell me who he is! I’m going to his school tomorrow to set things straight!” “Are you cold? Do you not have clothes to wear? Did I send you out naked? Am I some wicked stepmother abusing you?” Finally, she pointed a trembling finger at the portraits on the wall. “You ask your sister. Ask her if she’s cold down there in the ground. Ask her if she wants a new coat.” I looked up at my sister’s face in the photograph, and tears streamed down my cheeks. Why wasn’t it me who died? I was fourteen, and puberty had hit. From that day on, I gave up on myself. I still studied like my life depended on it. In the magnet high school, the work became harder. I was no longer at the very top of my class; sometimes I even fell out of the top thirty. Each time, my mother would beat me with a hateful fury, not stopping until she was exhausted. I just endured it silently. A single thought became a prayer in my heart. Yes, that’s it. Harder. Just kill me. Kill me. Please, just kill me. 7 After my final exams, my mother filled out my college applications for me. She chose the local state college. “There’s no need to go far away,” she said with a smile. “The education program here is excellent. People fight to get into it.” I just nodded. When my acceptance letter arrived, the neighbors all congratulated her, praising me for being so filial and staying close to home. Only my high school guidance counselor sighed. “With your scores, this is a real waste.” But then, thinking of my family situation, he just shook his head. “It must be hard on you. Your mother hasn’t had it easy either.” I knew it would be this way. When the ending is already written, why struggle against the plot? It only brings more pain. After college, I got a teaching job in the local school district. Mrs. Gable, now with a full head of white hair, told my mother, “Elaine, you’ve finally made it. You can finally rest easy.” My mother cried and laughed at the same time. I looked at her through the crowd of well-wishers, just as I had looked at her on the day I was pulled from the rubble. Mom, back then, were you happy that one daughter lived, or sad that one daughter died? Mom, are you happy now? Mom, am I a good daughter now? 8 Everyone said my mother’s life was tragic. She lost her husband, then a daughter, and raised one all by herself. And just when she had finally made it, I got sick. Stomach cancer. Stage two. When I saw the diagnosis, I was surprisingly calm. Hunger had been the constant companion of my youth, and the stomach is an emotional organ. I’d felt the discomfort for a long time, but I was so used to it, I couldn’t tell the difference between pain and hunger anymore. I was used to enduring. I had no intention of getting treatment. I decided to leave all my savings to my mother for her retirement. I tried to hide it from her, but she found the doctor’s report under my mattress. She read it over and over, then let out a desperate scream, tearing at her own hair. I tried to stop her, but she shoved me away with violent force. She pointed at me, then at the portraits on the wall, her eyes wide and bulging, her face twisted into a grotesque mask. “If I had known you were going to die young anyway, I should have let you die back then!” “You debt collector! You should be the one to die!” My hands fell limply to my sides. After a long moment, I whispered, “I know.” That night, I left home. I walked to the river and let the cold wind carry me into the water. No last words. No regrets. I was an obedient daughter. Wasn’t I?

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I was transported into a horror game with my best friend. She became the final BOSS, and I became a player. When my teammates shoved me forward as a human shield, I threw myself into the BOSS’s arms and whined. “Babe, they’re all bullying me.” The BOSS’s pale fingers paused at my neck for a fraction of a second before lashing out, striking my teammates with brutal force. With him on my side, I was unstoppable, raking in points like it was nothing. Then one day, the game glitched, and two instances merged. The BOSS from the other instance saw me and let out a triumphant shriek, tackling me in a hug. “My darling bestie, I finally found you!” Wait. If she’s my best friend… then who is the BOSS holding me right now? 1. [Welcome to the instance: The Lost Woods.] [Instance Difficulty: SSS-Rank] [Objective: Survive for one month.] [Commencing rules announcement:] [Rule 1: Do not act alone at night.] [Rule 2…] It took until the second rule for the reality to sink in: I was in a horror game. As the cold, mechanical voice droned on, a live-stream chat feed exploded in my vision. [WTF, a whole month? No wonder this is the hardest instance. Most are just a week.] [Well, this is the instance the elite squad chose. It’s gotta be different.] Reading that made my eye twitch. Forcing myself to stay calm, I scanned the five people around me, drawing on years of playing horror games. A good team was half the battle. There were three men—one average-looking, one with glasses, and one heavy-set guy—and two women, one with fiery red hair and another with a dark, brooding look in her eyes. None of them showed a hint of panic. The red-haired woman’s gaze met mine, and she shot me a look of pure venom. My heart sank. She didn’t seem very approachable. I ignored it for now and focused back on the chat, trying to glean any useful information. [I remember this instance has a hidden rule… something about sacrificing one person to the BOSS every three days…] [Hey, is that a noob?] [Poor girl. First time in and she lands in a hell-tier instance.] [And she’s with Carter’s squad… yikes. She won’t last three days.] Before I could process that, the average-looking man, Carter, walked over to me and extended his hand. “Hey, newbie. I’m Carter, this squad’s leader. We’ll need your full cooperation if you want to survive.” I reached out to shake his hand, but he pulled his back at the last second, leaving me hanging awkwardly. The red-haired woman let out a derisive snort. “He was just being polite. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” I pressed my lips together. Fine. If that’s how they wanted to play it, I wouldn’t be telling them that my best friend was the BOSS of this instance. The man with the glasses, Dexter, tried to smooth things over, but his eyes, magnified behind his lenses, were fixed on me with a cold, reptilian focus that made my skin crawl. The sky was darkening, and the woods around us began to rustle, as if something was waking up. I remembered the first rule. As much as they creeped me out, I couldn’t risk being alone. 2. Carter and his team operated with a chilling efficiency. A single glance was all they needed to communicate. As the temperature in the forest plummeted, they expertly started a fire and began roasting their rations. I was completely out of the loop, so I huddled to the side, trying to start my own small fire. Now I understood why the chat was so ominous about Carter’s squad. Every new player unfortunate enough to be matched with them probably got the same treatment. This was their first time in this instance too, so on the first night, they stuck to the rules, unwilling to make any reckless moves. After eating, they prepared to sleep. The heavy-set one, Gus, grinned at me. “Hey, newbie. You’re on watch tonight.” It took me a second to register. “Huh?” His smile didn’t waver as he pointed to the fire he’d built a dozen feet away. “You warmed yourself by our fire. It’s only fair you pay us back now.” The red-haired woman, Ruby, shot me a disdainful look. “You should be grateful. We’re giving you a chance to gain some experience.” The other two said nothing, simply closing their eyes. I was trapped. I couldn’t risk being ambushed by some monster while I slept. I still had to find my best friend and get her protection; I couldn’t die here. So, I kept watch all night, my heart pounding with every snap of a twig. The next morning, Carter’s team woke up refreshed and full of energy, ready to tackle the instance objectives. My eyelids felt like lead weights, but I forced myself to trail behind them, terrified of being left alone. After last night, they seemed to have decided I was a total pushover. Under the guise of “training me,” they ordered me around constantly. And when it came time to collect rewards, they snatched all the credit, having the points transferred to their accounts. The chat was full of pity. [They’re really walking all over this noob.] [The three-day sacrifice is coming up. Guess we know who they’re picking.] Someone argued back. [It’s survival of the fittest. This is a horror game, not a charity.] Carter’s team saw the comments, of course. The cold cruelty in their eyes was unmistakable. They might as well have said it out loud. But I wasn’t upset. In fact, I kept pushing the boundaries of the rules, doing little things to attract attention. I couldn’t wait for the BOSS to show up. 3. The day passed without incident. Carter’s team, now familiar with the immediate surroundings, decided it was time to test the rules. That night, they used me as bait, hoping to lure out whatever monster lurked in the darkness. My struggles and protests earned me a sharp slap from the brooding woman, Mara. My cheek stung, swelling instantly, and the taste of blood filled my mouth. They dragged me away from the fire and left me in the open. Seconds later, a sinister wind tore through the trees. Countless glowing red eyes blinked open in the shadows. A black mist rolled in, and from it emerged a man, the lower half of his face wrapped in bandages. Behind him, a mass of inky black tentacles writhed and clawed at the air. Everywhere he walked, the trees in his path were pulverized into dust. The chat erupted. [HOLY SHIT, they actually did it! They baited out the final BOSS!] [Are they crazy? I thought they were here for points, not to get themselves killed!] [Carter’s team is ranked in the top ten! I thought they might actually be the first to clear this instance. Looks like they’re here to set the record for the fastest team wipe instead.] Seeing the BOSS, the calm, collected masks on Carter’s team finally shattered. “Run!” Carter shrieked, his voice raw with terror. But the BOSS was too fast. It would be on them in seconds. Running was pointless. Desperate for more time, they exchanged a look, then used an item to launch me through the air, directly at the BOSS. The chat began mourning my terrible luck. But I didn’t fight it. Instead, I threw myself right into the BOSS’s arms, sobbing and whining. “Babe, they’re all bullying me.” The tentacles that were about to crush me… paused. The BOSS’s pale fingers, hovering over my neck, hesitated. The chat went into a frenzy. [WTF, did the noob snap from fear?] [Does she have a death wish?!] [DO YOU SEE WHO THAT IS? THAT’S THE FINAL BOSS!] [I guarantee you, in the next second, those tentacles are gonna rip her in two.] In the next instant, the flood of comments came to a dead halt. Because the BOSS lifted his gaze, looked at the five people scrambling for their lives, and his tentacles shot out, impaling their legs. [HUH???] [NO WAY. AM I SEEING THIS RIGHT?] [This is… I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.] I snuggled deeper into the BOSS’s chest. It was surprisingly firm, yet yielding. “I knew you were the best to me, babe!” I chirped. “Hehe, and this body is a masked type? That’s totally my thing.” The BOSS’s body went rigid. 4. Carter’s team was elite for a reason. They had extensive experience dealing with life-or-death situations, or they wouldn’t have survived this long. Seizing the BOSS’s momentary hesitation, they gritted their teeth, ripped the tentacles from their thighs, and bolted. But the BOSS was faster. They’d barely taken a step before slender, impossibly strong tentacles wrapped around them, binding them tight and squeezing, inch by inch. As the tentacles began to bite into their flesh, a look of agony crossed Gus’s face. In a flash, he used an item. A blinding golden light erupted. The light was so intense it stung my eyes. When my vision cleared, Carter and his team were gone. The tentacles in the air still held the shape of their bodies, grasping at nothing. The chat was on fire. [An SSS-Rank escape item! No wonder!] [I knew they had to have an ace up their sleeve to take on a hell-tier instance.] [Wait, didn’t this squad just grind SS-Rank instances to get elite status? Where did they get a 3S item?] [Yeah, you can’t even buy those in the point shop. You have to clear a 3S instance.] [Speaking of which… don’t you guys remember that elite player who teamed up with them and then disappeared…?] With Carter’s team gone, the BOSS retracted his tentacles. The forest fell silent, except for the red eyes still glinting from the shadows. The wind rustled the leaves with a chilling sound. But wrapped in the BOSS’s embrace, I felt completely safe. I was so relaxed I even started reading the gossip in the chat. As I was getting to the good part, the comments suddenly stopped and were replaced by a collective scream. [Is this noob for real? The BOSS is standing right there and she’s reading the chat?] [BOSS: Ahem. I’m still here.] [OMG, is there something wrong with her?] [She must have been scared senseless. Did she really just call the BOSS ‘babe’?!] [DUMMY! STOP READING THE CHAT! THE BOSS’S TENTACLE IS ON YOUR LEG!] I instinctively slapped downwards. “Babe, don’t interrupt my gossip,” I mumbled. 5. The BOSS seemed displeased by my neglect. Instead of retracting, the tentacle coiled even tighter around my leg. The sensation was cold and slick against my palm. A novel experience. Since the gossip train had stopped, I turned my attention to the BOSS holding me. He had striking features, a high-bridged nose, and messy bangs that, combined with the bandages, gave him an aura of mystery. His black clothing clung to his body like a second skin, outlining every muscle. His powerful chest and lean, defined abs were clearly visible. The only skin exposed was on his hands and face, creating a very ascetic vibe. Damn. My bestie really scored with this avatar. It was hitting every single one of my preferences. The strange thing was, there was a distance in his eyes when he looked at me. And he hadn’t said a single word. That wasn’t like my bubbly, chatty best friend at all. It must be because she saw me get thrown to her as a human shield. She must have been terrified. She attacked those people to save me. That was so bloody. My bestie, who’s normally too scared to even kill a chicken! She must be in shock. And after they ran away, I was too busy reading the chat to comfort her. Thinking about it, I felt terrible. I hadn’t considered her feelings at all. The more I thought, the more I regretted it. I wrapped my arms around him and started stroking his hair soothingly. “Babe, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking about how you must have felt.” His entire body tensed. Even the tentacle around my leg went rigid. 6. I figured she was just getting used to this new body and wasn’t comfortable with our usual physical affection yet, so I didn’t overthink it. I launched into a stream of heartfelt apologies. “Those people were horrible! They bullied me, they wouldn’t let me sleep, and they kept taking advantage of me and stealing my points.” “The only reason I didn’t comfort you right away was because I was trying to learn more about them so they couldn’t get away next time! It wasn’t because I don’t care about you!” He remained silent, his long lashes hiding the expression in his eyes. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I looked up at him pitifully. “Babe, why aren’t you talking to me? Are you still mad?” He didn’t move. I tried again, nuzzling against his chest. “You really can’t forgive me?” [What is this newbie doing???] [Does she think sweet-talking the BOSS will save her? How naive can you be in a horror game!] [OMG, does she think this is a dating sim?] [Just because the BOSS is hot and she’s kinda cute, she thinks she can romance him? Get a grip!] [Doesn’t she know what a ‘hell-tier instance’ means? NO ONE has ever cleared it!] [Yeah, the BOSS is devastatingly handsome, but he’s also devastatingly lethal!] [Okay, but quietly… the BOSS really does seem to be treating her differently. He protected her right away.] [Even X, the strongest player in the guild, only lasted five minutes against this BOSS, and that was with spamming god-tier items. This newbie has been alive for over ten…] [What are you thinking? She’s openly a player. What monster doesn’t kill players? Maybe the BOSS is just saving her for a slow, torturous death?] The chat was a chaotic mess. It was making my head spin. Just then, the BOSS awkwardly lifted a cold, pale hand and gently covered my eyes. His voice was a low rasp. “Sleep.” 7. I peeked through a tiny gap between his fingers, confirming that the BOSS really wasn’t angry. My eyes met his dark, intense pupils. He spoke again, his tone a little unnatural, as if he hadn’t spoken in a very long time. He was trying to soothe me. “Don’t… be afraid.” So, I obediently closed my eyes and went to sleep. In a corner I couldn’t see, the chat collectively lost its mind. [WTF??? THE BOSS CAN TALK!] [AND THE NEWBIE ISN’T DEAD!] [Could she be some kind of hidden master player?] [This is getting interesting. I’m following this newbie’s stream for sure!] [Heh. I, for one, can’t wait to see how this arrogant newbie finally dies.] [OMG, I can’t believe I’m shipping this.] [^^ Same.] The BOSS supported me with his tentacles. Each one was carefully controlled, moving with a delicate precision, as if afraid of hurting me. He carried me back to his lair, where I slept soundly and safely. The next morning, the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the BOSS. He had even thoughtfully prepared breakfast for me. I launched myself at him, hugging him tightly. “Babe, you’re too good to me!” My bestie was clearly still not used to being so close in this body. She immediately handed me a piece of bread. “Eat,” she said, ever so concise. The chat was flabbergasted. [??? This world is getting weirder and weirder.] [Am I hallucinating from watching this newbie’s stream all night?] [^^^ Nope, you’re not. I watched all night too. The BOSS guarded her while she slept, never tried to kill her, and then left for a bit just before dawn and came back with bread.] [Wait a minute. The BOSS from this instance went for a stroll through X’s instance? The alarms were blaring, X and his team were freaking out thinking it was a once-in-a-century bug, and it turns out the BOSS just stole a loaf of bread… for a player???] I munched on my bread while reading the comments. Honestly, these people. A best friend grabbing a snack for her bestie—is that really so shocking? Besides, she knows me so well. The bread she stole was delicious. I was only halfway through it when a bright white light flashed before my eyes. Huh? The chat never mentioned that the bread in this game came with special effects. When my vision cleared, I was face-to-face with a haggard-looking Carter and his team. The BOSS, who had been right beside me, was gone. 8. This time, there was none of the arrogant disdain I’d seen when we first met. Carter and his team were in tatters, their clothes ripped and their ration packs gone. Their eyes immediately locked onto the half-eaten bread in my hand. Gus, in particular, swallowed hard, looking like he was about to snatch it from me. But he forced a smile. “Newbie, you’re okay! We were so worried…” Before he could finish, I shoved the rest of the bread into my mouth in three quick bites. Revealing food in front of a starving group was just asking to be robbed. I’m not an idiot. Better in my stomach than in their hands. Gus’s smile froze on his lips. The others looked livid. The chat exploded with laughter. [This is the first time I’ve ever seen Carter’s team get owned by a newbie.] [Why is this so satisfying LOLOLOL.] [Shhh, don’t say that too loud, their fanboys will come for you.] [This newbie has zero empathy. Her teammates are starving, what’s wrong with sharing half a piece of bread?] [Hey, who are you to lecture her? Where was your ’empathy’ when the newbie was starving on the first night while they ate their rations in front of her?] The debate was cut short by a system announcement. [Warning! Player has intentionally violated the rules. Punishment is imminent!] [Repeating.] [Warning! Player has intentionally violated the rules. Punishment is imminent!] The moment the mechanical voice faded, six identical doors materialized in front of us. Carter and his team knew what this was. Their faces paled. They had no intention of explaining it to me, and I had no intention of asking. I just waited for the system to announce the new rules. This time, it was simple. [Five doors of life, one door of death. Players may choose freely.] [Enter a door and clear the challenge within to complete the punishment.] As if to warn us against any further violations, the system added a final note. [Warning: Only one player may enter each door. Violators will bear the consequences.] Then the system went silent. Carter’s team didn’t move. I copied them, studying the identical doors with no clue what to do. After a moment, they exchanged a knowing glance. Carter slowly approached me, extending his hand again. I eyed him suspiciously, wondering what he was plotting this time. I didn’t take it. He wasn’t fazed. “Newbie, we were out of line before.” “But it was all just a test. We’ve now confirmed that you have what it takes to join our elite squad. I’m officially inviting you to join us. Let’s face this challenge and clear the instance together.” 9. I didn’t say a word. [Is this the first time Carter’s squad has ever invited a newbie to join?] [This girl is so lucky. She gets to join an elite team right off the bat.] [What is she waiting for? A top player like Carter invited her, she should be on her knees thanking him.] The chat was swarming with Carter’s fan club. Any dissenting comments were quickly buried. Seeing my lack of reaction, Carter rubbed his nose and chuckled. “Our team is focused on absolute strength, so public opinion on us is a bit… polarized.” “But don’t worry. If you join us, we will absolutely take care of you…” I cut him off. “What are the benefits?” [There’s a new weirdo every year, but this year is special. The BOSS in the other instance won’t kill anyone, and this newbie player is negotiating terms with an elite team.] [She’s so full of herself. If it were me, I’d pay to get into Carter’s squad, and she has the nerve to ask for benefits!] [Yeah, if I got into an elite team, I’d be smiling in my sleep!] [Seriously, does she have any idea what being on an elite team means?] I ignored the chat. After just two days, it was obvious that Carter and his crew were purely self-serving. They wouldn’t be inviting me to join unless they thought I was useful. And what use did I have? It had to be because I’d returned unharmed from an encounter with the BOSS. Of course, the only reason I was still alive was because the BOSS was my best friend. But they didn’t know that. From their perspective, I was incredibly powerful. If I agreed to join too easily, that would be suspicious. My interruption didn’t seem to annoy Carter. Even Ruby, who had always despised me, was holding her tongue. “One hundred thousand points,” Carter offered, “and one SS-Rank item. How does that sound?” Before I could answer, the chat blew up. [WTF, that’s what they pay 3S-cleared guild members for help!] [What’s so special about this newbie that they’re willing to pay so much?] [Heh, you all have no idea how powerful our Newbie Queen is.] [She had the hell-tier BOSS watch over her while she slept and make her breakfast. How about that?] Carter and his team saw those comments, and the last shred of doubt in their eyes vanished. Ruby even came over to apologize. “Hey, girl, I have a bad temper. A newbie got me in trouble once, almost cost me a hand—” She paused, showing me a faint scar on her wrist. “I guess I was just paranoid after that.” I smiled at her. “Alright. Since we’ve cleared the air, it’s better to have a friend than an enemy.” 10. Carter moved quickly, transferring 100,000 points to my account and sending over an SS-Rank item. I clicked [Accept]. After a few pleasantries, it was time to face the punishment. They said that to make up for their previous behavior, I could choose a door first. I picked one at random and walked toward it. Immediately, Dexter sidled up to me, his voice a sinister rasp. “What a coincidence. I was going to pick this one too.” He stared at me, his gaze slimy and repulsive. Not wanting to deal with him, I stepped back and moved toward another door. But it happened again. Every time I chose a door, someone else would immediately claim it with some flimsy excuse. Mara didn’t even bother with an excuse; she just walked into the one I was approaching before I could. Finally, there was only one door left. I had no choice but to go in. As soon as I stepped through, a flurry of black tentacles shot toward me. They moved so fast I couldn’t even see the afterimage, only the sound of them slicing through the air filling my ears. [HOLY SHIT, IT’S THE DEATH DOOR!] [Heh, no wonder they invited her. If she survived the BOSS, she’s either skilled or super lucky. They took all the other doors, leaving her with the most dangerous one. If she dies, her points and items drop, and they can just loot her corpse. What a perfect plan, zero losses!] [Classic Carter move. How else do you think their points grew so fast?] [I knew they couldn’t be that generous.] [Finally an interesting newbie, but she’s so clueless. What a shame.] The chat was already preparing my eulogy. But in the next second, the razor-sharp tentacles screeched to a halt just inches from my face. They softened, gently brushing against my cheek as if trying to confirm something.

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My diagnosis of cerebellar atrophy shattered my world and exposed my mother’s hidden genetic curse to my father. In a rage, he left us, taking only my healthy sister Chloe. My mother, consumed by guilt, threw herself into my rehab, bringing brief hope. But she vanished a month later, leaving just twenty dollars and a note: Leo, I tried. We’re too poor. Don’t hate me. I didn’t hate her. I understood. They had a healthy daughter to raise. I prayed Chloe would avoid our genetic fate and care for them one day. Crippled, I found work cleaning a banquet hall. A year later, I watched Chloe’s lavish 18th birthday. My parents, well-dressed, supported her—now unsteady like I had been. They looked at her with deep devotion. My mother whispered, “Chloe has symptoms. I wonder how Leo is… I almost told him who we were—” My father cut in coldly, “He’s dead. Why bring him up? That bastard doesn’t deserve to waste Chloe’s inheritance. You already played the devoted mother too long.” Guests applauded: “The Sullivans are so inspiring! By their daughter’s side all year!” I dropped my rag and clapped with my twisted hands. So, they wouldn’t abandon a sick child. They just wouldn’t keep me. 1. As I clapped, a tear escaped and splattered on the polished marble floor. Another soon followed. The floor I had just cleaned was now stained with my sorrow. My department manager, Ms. Albright, had disliked me from day one. She stormed over, grabbed my ear, and yanked my head down until my face was almost pressed against the cold stone. “Are you blind? You expect me to clean up your mess? If one of our wealthy guests slips on this, you couldn’t afford the lawsuit if they sold you for parts, you cripple! A disgusting freak like you, how dare you even look at the Sullivan girl’s party. Don’t tell me you’re getting ideas. Thinking you can hook a rich girl looking like that?” Oh. So I was a rich kid after all. No wonder my mother had the gene but never showed symptoms. No wonder Chloe, despite her unsteadiness, was a living testament to the medical miracles money could buy. Only I had been completely and utterly discarded. A bitter taste rose in my throat. I swallowed back the tears, bowed my head, and apologized. “I… I’m… s-sorry.” Those three words were a mountain my stiff tongue could barely climb. Ms. Albright shoved me away impatiently. “Get it cleaned up, now. Stop shuffling around like that. It’s a bad look. What if the Sullivans see you? You’ll ruin their night!” I quickly wiped away my tears and let her push me toward the back corridor. But then, a voice stopped us. My mother’s voice. “Wait.” It was stern, yet carried a familiar tenderness I knew all too well. It was the same voice she used when she playfully tapped my nose while helping me with homework, the same proud tone when she bought me a three-dollar cupcake for my birthday, the same voice that had suddenly whispered “I’m sorry” on the way to my first rehab session. I had always thought she was apologizing for hiding her medical history. Now I knew it was just a formality, a final courtesy for the son she was about to throw away. My body went rigid. I tucked my head deeper into my chest, my hunched back making it easy to hide. Please don’t recognize me. Please. Thankfully, she only approached to hand over two thick envelopes. “A little something for the staff. Thank you for your hard work on my daughter’s special day.” She had seen our uniforms and was simply observing etiquette. The cash in those envelopes could probably buy me a truckload of cupcakes. Ms. Albright snatched them, bowing and scraping, her mouth a waterfall of flattery. But my mother pulled one back and held it out to me. “Looking at you… you remind me of a condition I’m familiar with. I had a son… if he were alive, he might have ended up looking like you.” Good. She didn’t recognize me. When she left, I was only just starting to stumble like Chloe. Now, my limbs were contorted, my face was a twisted mask, and my body was a broken question mark. Nothing human remained. Her eyes welled up with tears. Ms. Albright rushed to offer her a tissue, then gave me another vicious shove. “Look what you did, you deadbeat! You made Mrs. Sullivan sad! Apologize!” My disobedient lips moved, but the words wouldn’t come out. My mother waved a dismissive, magnanimous hand. “Don’t blame him. In fact, I should thank him. Seeing him now… I see that my son is better off dead. Otherwise, if he had turned into… this… Ugh. In a way, I suppose I saved him.” Oh, how easily they forgave themselves. A bitter smile twisted my already crooked lips. But as I glanced at Chloe, beaming in the distance, I couldn’t even muster the energy for hatred. As I turned to leave, the broom slipped from my grasp and crashed to the floor. The loud clatter echoed through the marble hall, drawing every eye. My father’s gaze, sharp and venomous, shot toward me. I knew I was in trouble. 2. He strode over in a few quick steps, his finger jabbing at my face. Conscious of his image as a billionaire philanthropist, he hissed his curses under his breath. “Is your boss insane? Hiring a monster like this to serve at my daughter’s party? You startled our honored guests, and now they have to look at your half-man, half-ghost face. If you give someone a heart attack, ten of your worthless lives wouldn’t be enough to pay for it!” My eyes burned. But this face, this body… it was the direct result of his carelessness before marriage, my mother’s deliberate concealment, and their joint decision to abandon me. Ms. Albright was frantic, her bow deepening. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Sullivan, it was an oversight! Our owner insists on these… charity cases… to maintain the company’s philanthropic image. I’ll take this ugly freak away and teach him a lesson right now!” My father shot me a sideways glance, wrinkling his nose in disgust before turning to my mother. “It’s a good thing that little bastard is dead. If he were alive and looked like this, we’d have nightmares. I told you to give up on him the moment we found out. You and your soft heart. It almost caused a disaster.” I was used to my father’s hostility. Even as a child, whenever my mother showed me affection, his eyes would smolder with rage. “Why do you dote on him so much? I’m your husband! If you put half that effort into our daughter, she’d be a prodigy by now!” I never understood why he saw his own son as a rival, but from then on, our family began to live a “poor” life. It was all part of his “starvation education” philosophy—only through hardship could one become great. I guess their plan was to reveal the truth at our coming-of-age parties. But I never made it. On my 18th birthday, while eating that cheap cupcake, I collapsed, my head hitting the table with a sickening crack. The hospital visit revealed the truth: hereditary cerebellar atrophy. And just like that, I missed the grand reveal. Or perhaps, I had simply fulfilled my father’s deepest wish. Seeing how slowly I moved, Ms. Albright lost her patience, grabbed me by the collar, and began dragging me across the floor. The fabric bit into my neck, cutting off the air. My face turned a dark shade of purple as my twisted hands clawed uselessly at my throat. My muffled gasps only made me look more grotesque. My mother, struck by a pang of pity, started to move forward, but my father held her back. “Don’t you get it yet? People like him are better off dead. Having him wander around a place like this is an eyesore. Besides, living in that useless body is worse than being a dog. It’s a mercy, really.” He chuckled, a smug, quiet sound, before smoothing his suit and returning to the party to network for his precious daughter’s future. I clawed at my collar, my bulging eyes watching it all. For the first time, I understood what it felt like for one’s heart to turn to ash. You already let me die once. Do you really need me to die a second time? At least Chloe hadn’t seen this cruel spectacle. I looked at the large portrait of her by the entrance, her smile as bright and innocent as the day we’d stolen candy together. Chloe, please, live well for me. 3. I had considered suicide when my body first began its horrifying transformation. The boy who had been a track and field champion was now a gnarled, decaying piece of driftwood. No one could bear to look at me. But my twisted hands were too weak to even properly slice my own wrist. I was found and saved. The doctor who stitched me up was beautiful, but her voice was as cold as ice. She held my bandaged wrist, her words a thunderclap. “Dying will only prove that you really are useless.” She was right. It was pathetic. I was drowning in a swamp created by others’ mistakes, and my only solution was to plunge my head under. But as an abandoned child, what other path was there? Seeing the empty “Family Information” section on my chart, she bit her lip and handed me a business card. “When you’re discharged, take this to the Aethelgard Grand Hotel. There will be a suitable job waiting for you. Once you can support yourself, the temptation of death will fade.” I looked at the name on the card—Stella Thorne—and a faint smile touched my lips. Even you don’t recognize me, yet you’re telling me to live. In high school, she was the only girl immune to my good looks. While others practically threw themselves at me, she would always detour to avoid the crowds I drew. I knew she was the daughter of some mysterious tycoon. Back then, living in my parents’ fabricated world of poverty, I knew a girl like her was out of my league. Still, a strange, unspoken feeling had always simmered beneath the surface. For three years, we were parallel lines that never crossed. The next time we met, I was a monster who had tried to kill himself, and she was my aloof, brilliant attending physician. Before I was discharged, I swallowed my pride and asked her to issue a fake death certificate and help me create a new identity. She simply sighed and agreed. From the gossip of the nurses who adored her, I learned that the Aethelgard, the most luxurious hotel in the city, was just one of her family’s many assets. But this rebellious heiress had defied her family’s wishes, choosing medicine over money. I once asked her why she was helping me. She just gazed out the window, a distant look in her eyes. “Your name is the same as a high school classmate of mine. Only…” I knew the part she swallowed: He was much more handsome. So she did remember me. It was almost a relief that she couldn’t connect the handsome boy from her past with the broken creature before her now. Perfect. My speech was slurred, like a true patient. “Okay. I’ll live. I’ll be your success story.” If it meant seeing her a few more times before I died, it was worth it. I took the card to the hotel, but my luck ran out. The department manager, Ms. Albright, was furious about a backdoor hire like me. She assumed I was just some charity case the owner’s daughter had picked up to maintain the company’s philanthropic image and never gave me a shred of respect. I heard Stella had gone abroad for advanced studies. Without her protection, I was just trying to survive. But having a job, a way to feed myself, had indeed banished the desire for death. I just hoped I could hold on until she came back, just to show her I had kept my word. But now, I could feel the last bit of air leaving my lungs. My vision was blurring. Ms. Albright’s grip didn’t loosen. It seemed the time I had stolen from fate was finally due. Suddenly, a voice, also struggling with clarity, cut through the haze. “Let him go! You’re killing him!” 4. It took me a long moment to focus on the person standing before me. It was Chloe. Memories flooded my mind: sneaking a piece of melted candy in the middle of the night in that deliberately run-down house; acting as lookouts for each other while watching TV; finding a dollar on the street and buying a single popsicle to break in half and share… I had always believed that no matter how poor we were, we would always have each other. But the girl before me now, in her magnificent gown and perfectly styled hair, was from another world. Even with her faltering steps, it was clear she and I were no longer the same. Ms. Albright looked flustered. She bowed again. “Miss Sullivan, this… this thing startled you. I was just taking him away. Don’t worry, I know my limits. I won’t ruin your party.” “That doesn’t give you the right to torture a sick man!” Chloe retorted, her voice choked with emotion. “If my brother were still alive, he might have ended up like this…” Good. In their minds, he was already gone. I fought back tears, burying my face deeper into my chest. Chloe slowly knelt in front of me. “Don’t be afraid. You’re still able to work. That’s amazing. The hospital my parents found is incredible; I’ve already improved so much. They say a full recovery is possible. When I’m better, I’ll come find you. I’ll use my allowance to pay for your treatment.” I remembered Stella mentioning that hospital. The treatment cost tens of millions. The sister who once shared a single piece of candy with me now had an allowance that large. A wave of bitterness washed over me, but I pushed it down, leaving only a sliver of relief. I nodded numbly. The next second, my father, who had come looking for Chloe, was screaming at me. “You monster! My daughter shows you a little kindness and you dare to accept? Who do you think you are!” He lunged forward and kicked me hard in the ribs, his carefully crafted gentlemanly facade completely gone. Chloe rushed to stop him. “Dad! When we were kids, you used to sneak me out for Michelin-star dinners after he was asleep. You took me for golf and riding lessons while he was out collecting bottles. You always said boys have it easy later in life, but girls need to be cultivated early. I kept your secret for you. I owe him so much. Helping this man is a way to honor my brother’s memory. Are you going to stop me from doing even that?” My body went cold. I never imagined my sister’s acting skills were honed at such a young age. My father looked awkward. My mother just stood by, weeping silently. “You saw the way he was walking! You had nightmares for weeks, crying every night! It broke my heart! And after you found out about our real fortune, weren’t you the one who was worried he would just be a drain on your inheritance? You said once he got married, his wife would take it all anyway, that boys are never as loyal as daughters. You were the one who begged me to get you away from him! Then you cried for your mother, so she stayed with that jinx for a month before coming back to you. Honey, we don’t owe that bastard a thing. The three of us, living our best life—that’s all that matters!” My twisted fingers dug into the cheap fabric of my uniform as I fought to keep from sobbing. So, the one person I thought was innocent, my sister, was the true architect of my downfall. I thought I had only lost my looks, but it turned out my entire life was a clown’s script. And now, I was finally playing the part without a mask. Chloe let out a long sigh. “You’re right. I was born a princess, but I had to suffer through all those years of poverty just to trick him. I suppose I’ve done my part.” She held out an envelope to Ms. Albright. “Pretend I never said anything. Take him away and deal with him according to your rules.” Ms. Albright’s face split into a grin. She bowed so low her head nearly touched the floor, then grabbed my collar again. This time, I didn’t struggle. I let her pull, feeling the deep, bruising pressure on my neck. In my final moments, I thought of Stella Thorne, and a tiny corner of my heart felt a sudden warmth. I’m sorry. I couldn’t keep my promise. It’s just… living is so damn hard. Ms. Albright had only dragged me a few feet when a glass bottle flew through the air and smashed against his head. He yelped in pain and let go, cursing loudly. Then I heard a cold, clear female voice. “Is this how you treat my patient?” I thought I was hallucinating, that death was playing tricks on me. But there she was. Stella Thorne, standing not far away, a carry-on suitcase at her feet. She looked at me, her eyes filled with a disappointed anger. “Leo Sullivan. Are you giving up again? Did you forget what you promised me?” At the sound of that name, the family trio, who had been about to return to the party, froze in their tracks.

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For three years, I was Damon’s girlfriend, and in his circle, I was famous for it. I was the perfect, ride-or-die girlfriend. I never checked his phone. I never cared how many other women he flirted with. I never started a fight, no matter how late he came home. Damon was proud of it. He’d brag to his friends about how much I loved him. Until one day, he stumbled upon the old social media account I shared with my first love. The me in those posts was possessive and jealous, a universe away from the emotionally stable woman I was now. In one video, my ex was laughing, a helpless look on his face. “Why are you always so angry?” he teased. My voice, full of righteous indignation, shot back, “I only get angry because I love you! If I didn’t, I wouldn’t give a damn.” Damon froze. 1 When I ran into Damon at the bar, a beautiful girl in a crop top and shorts was perched on his lap. Her slender arms were wrapped around his neck, her glossy lips parted in a dazzling smile as she leaned in close. A few of his married friends were already getting up to leave, making their apologies. “Sorry, Damon, man. The wife’s got me on lockdown. She’s already called three times. If I’m not home soon, I’m sleeping on the couch.” Damon let the girl on his lap pluck the cigarette from his mouth and place it between her own lips. He scoffed. “You’re all pathetic. Getting whipped by a woman.” His single friends hooted. “That’s our Damon! No matter what time he gets home, Callie never says a word. You gotta teach us your ways, man!” The girl in his arms giggled, pressing herself against him. “Yeah, Damon. Aren’t you afraid your girlfriend will see you with me and get mad?” A flicker of pride crossed his face. “She’s crazy about me. She’d do anything I say. We’ve been together three years, and she’s never once started a fight.” “Damn! That’s our guy!” The men around him laughed, their faces full of envy. “All these years, Damon’s been playing the field, and she’s never dared to say a thing. That’s a real man—” His words died in his throat. He’d spotted me standing a few feet away, my expression blank. Damon saw me too. There was no panic in his eyes, just a casual arrogance. He pushed the girl off his lap and beckoned me over with a lazy flick of his wrist. “What are you doing here?” I hesitated for a beat before walking over. “I’m here with friends.” The girl who’d been pushed away shot me a dirty look, then forced a tight smile. “Callie.” Up close, I recognized her. The new secretary at Damon’s company. Mia, I think her name was. She’d gone to some no-name state school, but Damon had seen her resume photo and hired her on the spot. I guess it didn’t take him long to seal the deal. I ignored her. Damon was clearly drunk. His handsome eyes were watery, devastatingly beautiful under the hazy club lights. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him. “Didn’t even tell me you were coming out. Give me a kiss.” He leaned in. I flinched away instinctively. I had no idea if he’d already kissed Mia. The thought of it was disgusting. Damon’s expression soured, the smile vanishing from his lips. He was the one sitting, but his gaze was somehow condescending. “Callie, what the hell is that supposed to mean?” I turned my head slightly. “You’re drunk.” “Are you saying you’re too good for me?” My rejection, especially in front of his friends, was a direct blow to his ego. His eyes went cold. He yanked Mia back onto his lap, his hand gripping the back of her head. A triumphant look flashed across her face as she surrendered to his kiss. Right there, in front of me, they shared a deep, messy kiss. When they finally broke apart, Mia was breathless, a thin, silvery thread of saliva connecting their lips for a moment. She shot me a smug, victorious smile. Damon looked at me, his eyes full of challenge. The rest of his friends went silent, their gazes fixed on me. They were all waiting for the explosion. No woman would tolerate her boyfriend doing that. Surely, this was my breaking point. I just met his gaze and said calmly, “You’re drunk. I’m leaving.” As I walked away, I heard one of his friends whisper in awe. “Holy shit, her composure is insane. She’s not even mad!” “That’s Damon for you. He’s got her trained. She’s too scared to piss him off and get dumped.” “She’s just that in love. I heard she chased him for a whole year. Does whatever he says. She’s completely hooked.” Damon let out a short, contemptuous laugh. “She’d never leave me. She doesn’t have the guts to get angry.” The late winter air was sharp as a knife. It had started snowing at some point, fat flakes swirling in the air, turning red in the taillights of cars, then yellow under the streetlamps. I tightened my scarf and leaned against a brick wall, lighting a cigarette. The menthol flavor mixed with the cold air, a sharp sting in my lungs. It was my first love’s favorite brand. I used to beg him for a puff, and he would always scold me. “Callie, are you crazy? If I ever catch you smoking, I’ll kill you!” The day we broke up, I bought my first pack. I smoked it between fits of coughing. After that, there was no one left to stop me. I don’t smoke much anymore. But sometimes, when the feelings bubble up, I can’t help it. Watching Damon kiss someone else didn’t make me angry. Because I didn’t love him at all. 2 I was the one who pursued Damon. I first saw him at the opening of a new bar he’d invested in. The table in front of him was crowded with bottles, and he was surrounded by beautiful women laughing at his jokes. His face captured the attention of every girl in the room. I remember a lot of them asked for his number that night. So did I. Many women wanted Damon, but I was the most persistent. For a year, I was at his beck and call. One word from him, and I would drop everything and appear, no matter how far. Damon’s reputation as a player was well-known. He was never without a woman on his arm. Even if he’d just spent the night with someone else, if he called, I’d go pick him up. I never asked questions. I never said a word. I’d just go home and make him a pot of tea to sober him up. Everyone thought I was desperately in love with him. They said my family was a disgrace—first bankruptcy, and now their only daughter was acting like a doormat for the young master of the Harrison family. We finally got together after a night we both drank too much and ended up in the same bed. I only remember that he was rough, and that I cried a lot, clinging to him the whole time. The next morning, Damon looked at the marks on my body and my swollen eyes, and for a rare moment, he seemed to soften. He lit a cigarette and asked casually, “Do you want to be with me?” “But let’s get one thing straight,” he added, the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Don’t try to control me. I hate that.” I stared at the comforter for a long moment. “Okay,” I said. Damon always thought those were tears of joy. He never knew that day was my first love’s birthday. His profile looked so much like my ex’s. I’d noticed it the first time I saw him, across a crowded room. That night, in the dim light, for just a fleeting second, it felt like he was back with me. … I was with Valet Conn from the time I was seventeen until I was twenty-five. We were together for eight years. He was the only scholarship student at our elite private high school. I heard his family used to be wealthy, but his father was betrayed by a business partner, went bankrupt, and couldn’t handle the blow. He took his own life. Valet’s mother, who was already in poor health, died soon after. Overnight, he went from being a golden boy to an orphan with nothing. But Valet bounced back quickly. He was never arrogant or self-pitying. He held the top rank in a school full of rich kids and was even elected student body president. Who wouldn’t fall for a guy like that? I asked him out many times, and he always turned me down. But I never gave up. Plenty of girls liked him, but they all eventually moved on after being rejected. I was the only one who persisted. Finally, just before graduation, on my sixth attempt, he asked me with a weary sigh, “What is it you even like about me?” My face was flushed, my eyes welling up with tears of frustration. I just knew that I loved him. Sometimes, there’s no reason for it. “I just like you! I like everything about you!” His expression was complicated. After a long pause, he said softly, “But I have nothing. I can’t give you anything. Do you still like me, even like this?” “Yes!” I shouted. “Valet, I have my limits too! If you say no this time, I swear I’ll never ask you again!” He looked at me for a long time, then let out a deep breath, a sound of resignation and surrender. He gently pulled me into a hug. “You’re an idiot.” My eyes went wide. My heart, which had stopped for a beat, began to pound furiously. It was the first time I ever truly understood what it felt like to be ecstatic. It was true—when you’re that happy, it really does feel like fireworks are going off in your chest. We were together after that. He was a brilliant student; I wasn’t. To be with me, he intentionally missed a couple of big questions on his college entrance exams so we could get into the same university. When I found out, I cried my eyes out. He just held me and laughed. “Silly girl, what are you crying for? It doesn’t matter where I go to school. Don’t worry. I won’t let you suffer.” It wasn’t an empty promise. By his sophomore year, he’d started his own company with some friends and made his first real money. The year we graduated, he bought a huge penthouse apartment in the city center and had it decorated exactly to my taste. It was going to be our home. Everything was perfect. Our future plans only included each other. Neither of us ever doubted we would end up together. Until the day I took him home to meet my parents. I saw the color drain from my father’s face. Valet swayed on his feet, his own face turning ghost-white. That was when I learned that my father was the business partner who had betrayed Valet’s father, the man who had destroyed his family. Life can be so cruel. Because my father was always away on business, Valet had never met him. We never could have imagined it. That day, my father told my mother and me to leave the room. He wanted to talk to Valet alone. Not long after, Valet left the country. He didn’t leave a note. He didn’t say a word. The man who would cross half the country just because I said I missed him, the man who promised to love me forever, who got down on one knee with tears in his eyes and asked me to marry him, saying that with me, he finally had a home… he just abandoned me. And I couldn’t even hate him for it. It was my father who had ruined his life. Who wouldn’t feel that hatred? If I were in his shoes, I would have hated me too. Maybe it was karma. Not long after, my father’s investments failed, and he took his own life. My family went bankrupt. Meanwhile, Valet thrived abroad. He had a brilliant eye for investment, and in just a few years, his company went public on the Nasdaq. He became a famous tech mogul. Our situations had completely reversed. We had no reason to ever cross paths again. It was impossible. So when I saw Damon, for the first time in years, my dead heart seemed to flicker back to life. For me, who I was with didn’t matter anymore. Damon looked so much like Valet. That alone felt like a gift from heaven. For the sake of that face, I was at his beck and call for years. Whenever he needed me, I was there. No matter how late he was out, no matter which woman he was with, one call and I would get out of bed to bring him home. My birthday, our anniversaries—he remembered none of them. On my actual birthday, he was out with some new girl he’d met. Damon had always been a playboy. Being with me didn’t change him. A few times, other women even came to confront me directly. I could tell he wanted to break up, that he was trying to provoke a fight. But I never got jealous. I never made a scene. Over time, he got used to me. He and his friends all thought I was pathetically, hopelessly in love with him. The truth was, I just didn’t care. All I wanted was to see that face in the middle of the night, to pretend, just for a moment, that Valet was still with me. That fantasy was the only thing that kept me going. 3 It was one of Damon’s friends’ birthdays. Everyone brought their partners. Damon brought me. I wasn’t surprised to see Mia there. She sat down next to Damon as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Callie,” she said with a saccharine smile. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” Damon glanced at me. I said nothing. The smile on his face faded, replaced by a cold sneer. He wrapped his arm around Mia’s shoulders. She was clearly infatuated with him. Throughout the dinner, she was constantly toasting him, leaning in to whisper in his ear, laughing and draping herself over him. I wasn’t angry. I just ate my food quietly. One of Damon’s friends clicked his tongue in admiration. He turned to his own girlfriend. “Look at her. So classy. Not like you, getting jealous over every little thing. You should learn from her.” His girlfriend, who was a little drunk, scoffed. “I care because I love you! If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t care!” Maybe it was a coincidence, but the table went silent. Damon had obviously heard her. The smile was still plastered on his face, but the veins on the hand holding his glass bulged. His friend paled and immediately started backtracking. “My girlfriend’s had too much to drink. Sorry, Damon. She didn’t mean anything by it.” His girlfriend started apologizing too. Damon didn’t say anything. His eyes were on me. I looked away. “Aren’t you even a little bit angry?” he asked suddenly. “What is there to be angry about?” I said, genuinely confused. “Isn’t this the freedom you always wanted?” I got to see his face. He got his freedom. We were both getting what we wanted. What was the problem? After all, from the very beginning, he had warned me not to control him. He’d never stopped seeing other women. I thought this was how he liked it. But he seemed displeased. He pulled Mia even closer, until she was practically sitting in his lap. They started making out right in front of me, a wet, open-mouthed kiss. It was as if I wasn’t even there. No one else seemed surprised, though a few people shot me sympathetic looks. I scrolled through my phone, waiting for the night to be over. As the evening wore on, Mia got bolder. She was clearly making a play to replace me. She looked me up and down and said loudly, “An iPhone 12? That’s so retro. Are you trying to be ironic?” I ignored her, which only seemed to fuel her. “I’d almost forgotten what they look like. It’s practically an antique. I’m actually curious. Let me see it, Callie.” “No,” I said, my grip tightening on my phone. “Damon, make her show me! It’s just a phone, what’s the big deal?” When I didn’t respond, Damon frowned. “She wants to see it. Just let her.” “No.” “Damon~” Mia whined, tugging on his arm. Annoyed that I had defied him, his face went cold. He held out his hand. “Give me the phone.” I stayed silent. “What’s on there, anyway?” Mia added, fanning the flames. “Something you don’t want people to see?” A dark look entered Damon’s eyes. He lunged for my phone. “What are you doing?!” I gasped. We struggled, and the phone flew out of my hand. I instinctively shoved him away to catch it. He stumbled back, hitting his hip on the corner of the table. He swore under his breath. “What is wrong with you, Callie? It’s just a stupid phone! If it breaks, I’ll buy you a new one—” His words cut off. He was staring at the screen, which had lit up as it fell. The video I had been watching earlier had started playing again. It was from when I was still with Valet. I was on his back, not realizing he was recording, complaining petulantly. “Why did you talk to that girl for so long today?!” Valet’s voice was full of fond exasperation. “She’s the vice president of the student council. We were talking about official business. You’re unbelievable. Are you an industrial-sized vat of jealousy?” That only made me angrier. “I’m only jealous because I love you! If I didn’t love you, you could go drop dead for all I care!” Valet just laughed, hoisting me higher on his back. “Alright, alright, you love me. I get it. I guess I should be happy, then?” I poked him. “From now on, no talking to other girls. No adding other girls on social media. No liking anyone else!” “Okay, okay, whatever you say. Where did you get this temper…?” The video kept playing. I snatched the phone and turned it off. Damon was frozen, his posture unchanged. The table was dead silent. No one had expected this. In the next second, Damon grabbed the phone from my hand and smashed it on the floor. On pure instinct, I slapped him across the face. Then I dropped to my knees, scrambling to pick up the pieces. It was the last thing I had of Valet. The phone was shattered beyond repair, the screen completely black. I clutched it to my chest, then slowly turned to look at Damon. It hadn’t been a hard slap. But he was stunned. He didn’t even touch his face. He just stared at me, a look of utter confusion in his eyes, as if he were seeing me for the first time. Everyone else was in shock. You could have heard a pin drop. A part of me regretted it, but another part felt a strange sense of relief. I hadn’t meant to hit him. It was just a reflex. But now, it was done. I knew this was the end. I stood up, grabbed my purse, and walked out. As I left, I sent him one last text. “We’re done.” 4 I was wandering aimlessly down the street when I saw a familiar back in the crowd. In that instant, the world went silent. The sound of traffic, the city noise—it all disappeared. All I could hear was my own heart, which had stopped for a beat before starting to hammer against my ribs. It looked so much like Valet. I ran, pushing through the crowd, but by the time I got to the corner, he was gone, swallowed by the sea of people. I stood there for a long time, lost, until a car horn blared behind me, and I moved on, my mind a complete blank. It seemed to be snowing a lot that winter. I sat on a park bench, and it was only when I felt the cold tickle of snowflakes on my eyelashes that I realized the world around me had turned white. I curled into myself, not wanting to move. I had nowhere to go. After my father died, my mother quickly remarried and moved abroad. I didn’t have a home anymore. Valet had given me a home once, and then he’d left me alone in it. My life with Damon? That was never a home. I had places to stay, but no home to return to. A tear traced a path down my cold cheek. I wiped it away and was about to stand up when a shadow fell over me. I thought it was Damon, coming to find me. I looked up, and my breath caught in my throat. The face that had haunted my dreams for years was standing right in front of me, blurring the line between fantasy and reality. I couldn’t tell which was which. My hand trembled, but I didn’t dare to reach out. The snow seemed to melt in Valet’s eyes. For a split second, I thought the man who had loved me was back. “I’m back,” he said softly. … I don’t remember how I got to Valet’s apartment. I just remember clinging to him, crying, refusing to let go, until he finally gave up and just held me on the bed, patting my back. “Stop crying,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to give yourself a headache.” I couldn’t form a coherent sentence, just choked out, “When… when did you get back?” “A few months ago.” That only made me cry harder. “Then why did it take you so long to find me?!” He looked down, his eyes filled with a complicated emotion I couldn’t read. “I heard you were with someone. I didn’t know if I should interfere.” “Then why are you here now?” “I couldn’t stay away.” He sounded like he was admitting defeat. “I can’t forget you, Callie. I can’t let you go. I missed you so much it was killing me. I give up. I just… can’t.” I stopped crying and sat up. Valet leaned in. In the cold winter night, with snow falling outside, his kiss was searing hot. Neither of us spoke. We had been together for so long, we didn’t need words. There was no awkwardness, no strangeness. We knew each other’s bodies too well. It wasn’t about lust; it was about longing, about possession, about reclaiming what was lost. I clung to him, terrified that this was all a dream. I could feel him holding me just as tightly. In a trembling embrace that bordered on pain, we finally, truly found each other again. When I woke up, it was light out. It was still snowing, the sky a heavy, oppressive gray. The space beside me in the bed was empty. Panic seized me. I scrambled out of bed, my heart pounding, and almost collided with Valet as he came back into the room. The light was dim, casting shadows across his sharp features. His lips were still swollen and red. He was devastatingly handsome. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and grabbed his arm. “I thought…” I thought you were a dream. In the years we’d been apart, I’d had so many dreams about him. The joy of seeing him was always followed by the crushing disappointment of waking up. I buried my face in his chest, and after a long moment, I gathered the courage to ask. “You’re back now… are you going to leave again? Because of my father…” He rested his chin on the top of my head. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “At the time, I just… couldn’t accept it. I didn’t know what to do. I truly hated him, and because of that, I couldn’t help but hate you too. All these years, I’ve been torn between hating you and loving you. I thought I was going crazy. I saw a therapist, but it didn’t help.” “I kept dreaming about you,” he said, his voice soft, his hand finding mine. “I’d dream you were crying, asking me why I left you. It broke my heart. I’d wake up and just… smoke all night. I didn’t know what to do, Callie. What was I supposed to do?” “It took me a long time to figure it out. Your father was your father. You are you. What he did has nothing to do with you. And now… he’s gone. I’m willing to let it go. We can start over.” He pulled me tighter. “I’m not leaving again. Never again. That apartment wasn’t right for us. I bought a new place. We can decorate it together. Okay?” My eyes stung with tears. I hugged him back. “Okay.” The sun broke through the clouds. The snow had stopped. My world was finally bright again.

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