Category: English

I wrote 999 love letters to finally win over Stella Gleason, the ice queen of our university. But the day before our wedding, I overheard her complaining to her childhood friend about the typos in them. “It’s like a little kid wrote these. He should’ve just used an AI!” In that instant, I called off the wedding and pulled every last cent of my investment from her family’s company. Stella’s scream was pure panic. “It was just a joke between friends! You’d cancel our wedding over that?” Without a word, I brought up the AI marriage forecast I’d run on us. “You love AI so much? Then take a good long look,” I said, my voice flat. “A ‘catastrophic’ rating. You want that marriage? I wouldn’t touch it. It’s bad luck.” 1 Less than ten minutes after the investment was pulled, Stella kicked open the door to my office. “Kian, can’t you take a joke? Besides, Leo wasn’t wrong. Your letters did have typos!” I didn’t even bother to look up. I spoke to my secretary, who had followed her in. “Get the trading desk on the line. I want to pour a hundred million into Gleason’s biggest competitor. Short them into the ground.” Shock bloomed across Stella’s perfect face. “Are you insane? Do you have any idea how much money you’ll lose? Don’t think I won’t call your father right now!” Still trying to use my father against me? A cold smile touched my lips. I turned back to my secretary. “What are you waiting for? If the Gleason Corporation is still standing in an hour, you can clear out your desk.” “Wait!” For the first time, genuine fear flickered in Stella’s eyes. She walked toward me, her head bowed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes welling up. “I was wrong. I’ll do anything you want, just… please don’t pull the funding.” I remained silent. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a simple, plain silver band. “I made this for you. For our wedding. Please, Kian, don’t be angry.” Her voice was soft, pleading. “The only reason I even noticed the typos was because I read every single word of every letter you sent me. I didn’t mean anything by it.” I waved a hand, dismissing my secretary. Seeing my resolve soften, Stella threw her arms around my neck and planted a quick, wet kiss on my cheek. “I booked a table at that French bistro you love. Let’s go now, we can talk over the final details for the wedding?” I looked into her hopeful eyes, and for a moment, my heart stirred. I was about to speak when the door burst open again. Leo rushed in and dropped to his knees in front of me. “Mr. Hayes, if you’re angry, take it out on me! Don’t you dare bully Stella.” He shot a protective glare at me. “She’s your fiancée, not some dog you can just kick around!” Then he turned to Stella, holding up his hand. On his ring finger was another plain silver band. “It’s a perfect fit, Stella. Thank you. This time, I swear I’ll protect you. I won’t let a bastard like Kian ruin you!” My eyes narrowed. The ring on his finger was a perfect match for the one Stella had just given me. Hers was a man’s ring. Mine was a woman’s. It turns out she was just regifting. And I got the girl’s ring. A wave of nausea washed over me, so strong it almost made me laugh. “Protect her?” I sneered. “Let’s start by calculating the penalty for trespassing in the CEO’s office.” Before I could finish, Stella moved, placing herself between me and Leo. “This is between us, Kian. Don’t drag anyone else into it. I told you, I’ll do whatever you want.” My fiancée, standing against me to protect her lover. I knew why. When the Gleason family went bankrupt years ago, Leo had dropped Stella and fled the country without a second thought. I was the one who stayed by her side. I ignored my board of directors and poured all my resources into her family’s failing company. Now that Gleason Inc. was finally back on its feet, her parents pushed for this marriage, eager to lock me in for good. They wanted my money and resources, no strings attached. And my grandmother… my grandmother had always adored Stella. She’d made it clear that Stella was the only woman she’d ever accept as her granddaughter-in-law. For Nana’s sake, to fulfill her dying wish, I was willing to overlook the money. I thought we would build a life together, that it would all work out. I never imagined Leo’s return would shatter everything. With that thought, my decision was made. My voice was ice. “Fine. You want the wedding to happen? Then from this moment on, you will never speak to him again.” 2 In the end, Stella deleted every one of Leo’s contacts in front of me. She even threw both of the offending silver rings into the trash. Watching Leo stalk out of my office, his face a mask of resentment, I felt a knot of anger in my chest finally loosen. I told my secretary the wedding was back on. After dinner, Stella said she needed her beauty sleep to be at her best for the big day. I didn’t think much of it and drove off to my bachelor party. Halfway through the night, my phone started vibrating nonstop. I pulled it out to see a notification from the security system at our new house. The smart mattress was sending an alert. When we were furnishing the place, I’d gone with the principle that more expensive is always better. The salesman had sold me on this high-tech mattress, boasting that it could track… activity… and would automatically send an alert if it detected any unusual frequencies. We weren’t supposed to move in until after the wedding tomorrow. The house should have been empty. A dark premonition washed over me. Ignoring my friends’ protests, I jumped in my car and sped home. The moment I walked in the door, I saw them: a trail of clothes, carelessly discarded on the living room floor. And from the master bedroom, I could hear the soft, unmistakable sounds of a man and a woman. I kicked the bedroom door open. Startled by the crash, Stella screamed, her naked body instinctively shrinking behind Leo. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d been doing. A moment later, her shock turned to outrage. “Kian! Are you spying on me?” I held up my phone, the screen glowing with a red line of alerts. “Is this what you call beauty sleep?” A flicker of guilt crossed her face, but she quickly covered it, pulling the sheets around her as she tried to defend herself. “Leo and I grew up together! We used to sleep in the same bed as kids, we even took baths together! It’s not a big deal.” She pressed on, her voice gaining confidence. “Besides, I just wanted to say a proper goodbye. I promise you, after tonight, we’ll never see each other again.” While she spoke, Leo casually slipped into the silk robe I had bought specifically for my wedding night and sauntered over to me. “Hey, man,” he said, a smug look on his face. “Real love is about letting go, not control. She’s not even officially your wife yet. Tracking her like this? Not cool.” I gave him a look of utter contempt. “Fine,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “I’ll let go right now. Let’s see if Stella dares to go with you.” At my words, Leo immediately turned and grabbed her hand. “Stella, you just told me you don’t have any feelings for him! Come with me. Please?” I waited, curious myself. Between love and money, what would she choose? After a long, tense moment, Stella slowly pulled her hand away from Leo’s. “You should go,” she said, her voice quiet. “Tomorrow, I’ll be a part of the Hayes family. We can’t see each other anymore.” Leo looked like he was about to argue, but Stella gave him a sharp push. He shot me a venomous look, as if I were some villain who had stolen his maiden fair. As Leo turned to leave, my voice cut through the silence. “Stop.” He froze. “Are you so broke you have to steal my robe? Take it off.” 3 I’d noticed it the moment I walked in. In their haste, they’d torn each other’s clothes to shreds. Stella’s face paled as she realized it too. “Kian, that’s just cruel! You can’t be serious. You’re going to make him walk out of here naked?” “Cruel?” The word was so absurd I almost laughed. “Let’s not forget, Stella, we’re not married yet. This house isn’t yours. You brought a stranger into my private residence in the middle of the night and used my things without permission. How do you think that would play in front of a judge?” Her face flushed with anger, but she couldn’t say a word. Trembling, Leo untied the belt of the robe, his voice laced with false humility. “I’m sorry, Kian. It was my mistake. I shouldn’t have worn your robe.” As the silk fell open, I saw them clearly: the angry red marks and scratches covering his chest. A testament to just how passionate their “goodbye” had been. Before I could say anything else, Stella stepped in front of him, shielding him with her body. “That’s enough, Kian! It’s a stupid robe! Do you have to push things this far?” She reached into her purse, pulled out a couple of crisp hundred-dollar bills, and threw them in my face. “There! I’ve bought it for him. Are you happy now?” The sharp edge of a bill caught my cheek, leaving a thin, stinging line of red. Stella’s voice, now dripping with venom, filled the room. “I never loved you. Not for a second. If your family wasn’t so powerful, do you think I would have ever agreed to this marriage? You’re only marrying me to make your grandmother happy, Kian. So don’t you dare act like you have any right to tell me what to do!” I stared down at the crumpled bills on the floor and let out a cold, empty laugh. She was right. I had no right. I met Leo’s triumphant gaze and offered him a faint, chilling smile. “Do whatever you want.” With that, I turned and walked out. I drove home alone. As soon as I stepped through the door, my phone buzzed with a text from her. [Don’t be late for the wedding tomorrow.] I knew what it was. Her idea of an apology. She’d done things like this before. After sneaking off to meet Leo, she’d come home and make me my favorite pasta. After ditching a family dinner with my parents to see him, she’d send a text offering to pick me up from work. She was too proud to ever truly apologize, so she offered these small, hollow gestures instead. My friends had seen it for what it was. They told me to cut her loose, to let her go. But I kept giving her chances. One after another. I always told myself it was for Nana. My grandmother was getting older, her memory fading. Some days she didn’t even recognize me, but she always, always recognized Stella as the woman I was meant to marry. I couldn’t bear to disappoint her. So I allowed it. I allowed Stella’s parents to sell her to me like a prized mare. But there were good times, too. I couldn’t forget them. It was Stella who had proposed to me, in front of all the cameras, declaring to the world that she wanted to be my wife. Whatever happened, I decided, I would see the wedding through. And then, afterward, we would have a final, definitive reckoning. I just never imagined it would come so soon. The next day, I arrived at the venue in my tuxedo, only to be blocked at the entrance by a wall of security guards. They gestured toward a large sign posted by the door. In bold letters, it read: NO DOGS OR KIAN HAYES ALLOWED. 4 For a second, I just stood there, stunned. Then my eyes landed on the giant wedding portrait. Instead of my face next to Stella’s, there was a beaming photo of her and Leo. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. She answered on the second ring, but I cut her off before she could speak. “Is this your idea of a final reckoning?” I demanded. Her voice was calm, almost breezy. “The wedding was always just for show, for your Nana’s sake. And don’t worry, I already had someone pick her up and bring her here.” She paused. “So please, Kian, just let me have this one thing. Let me marry the man I love. I promise, after the ceremony is over, I’ll go to city hall with you and sign the papers.” Then she hung up. My mind snagged on one phrase: I already had someone pick her up. My grandmother was frail. She was kept alive by a cocktail of medications. She couldn’t handle being shuffled around like that! Panic seized me. I lunged for the doors, determined to find her, to get an explanation. But the guards were a solid wall, their grip like iron. The next thing I knew, I was being shoved backward, tumbling down the stone steps. A slow, mocking clap echoed from the top of the stairs. Leo stood there, dressed in a custom-tailored tuxedo, looking down at me with pure contempt. “Well, well, Kian. Putting on a little show for us?” he drawled. “Today’s my wedding day, you know. A bit rude to show up empty-handed. You and your grandmother both, tsk tsk.” I ignored his taunts, scrambling to my feet and grabbing him by the collar. “Where is she? Where is my grandmother?” Just then, Stella came running out of the hall, her white wedding gown trailing behind her. Her brow was furrowed in annoyance. “Kian!” she snapped. “You lay one finger on him and I swear…” I didn’t even look at her. My eyes were locked on Leo. “Where is my Nana?” A cruel smirk spread across Leo’s face. He suddenly threw his arms around me, making it look like we were wrestling, and we both tumbled back down the stairs. “Your senile old grandma wouldn’t believe I was the groom,” he whispered in my ear, his voice dripping with malice. “Kept insisting I take her to find Stella. So, I locked her in one of the cars on the street.” He chuckled. “It’s got to be over a hundred degrees today. If you don’t hurry, she might just bake in there.” My heart stopped. With a roar of pure fury, I drove my fist into his face. Then I scrambled away, stumbling toward the line of wedding cars parked along the curb. And there, in the passenger seat of the lead car, I saw her—a small, familiar, fragile silhouette. I pounded on the window, my eyes darting around for a rock, anything to break the glass. “Nana! Can you hear me? Nana!” It was the middle of the day, the sun beating down relentlessly. Inside that sealed metal box, the temperature would be lethal. For someone as frail as my grandmother, every second was critical. I stopped looking for a tool. I raised my fist and slammed it against the window. Again. And again. After a dozen blows, my hand was numb and bleeding, but the glass finally shattered. I reached through the jagged opening, ignoring the shards slicing into my skin, unlocked the door, and gently lifted her out. Her eyes were closed. She didn’t respond to my calls. In that moment, I wanted to tear Leo limb from limb. Looking at her face, ashen and still, my vision blurred with tears. “Nana, just hold on. The ambulance is on its way. I’m taking you to the hospital, just hold on!”

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Ever since my brother found out I wasn’t his real sister, he’s been ice-cold. The pain was a constant, sharp ache in my chest. I was packing my bags, ready to get the hell out, when I stumbled upon his journal. 【It’s over. She’s not my real sister. I can’t control myself anymore.】 【God, I want to taste my sweet little sister’s…】 【She crawled into my bed last night, her face flushed from the heat, whimpering my name like a prayer. It’s going to be the death of me.】 【She can’t even solve a simple calculus problem. The anger makes my heart ache. I just want to take a whip to her.】 【The shower is so damn small, and she still insists on squeezing in. Doesn’t she know I could pin her against the tiles until her eyes lose focus?】 【If she calls me ‘brother’ one more time, I’ll ship her off to the Arctic to pluck weeds.】 I snapped the journal shut. My feet carried me down to the basement, my movements silent and deliberate. My hands, trembling slightly, closed around a set of chains, a candle, and a leather whip. Brother, you get to punish me during the day. But at night… it’s my turn. … When I got home from class, Liam was doing laundry. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black slacks, his broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. The sleeves were rolled up, revealing the strong, corded muscles of his forearms. “Brother, you’re home early,” I chirped, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind and resting my head against his back. His whole body went rigid. After a beat, he resumed his task, his voice a shard of ice. “Lily, let go.” Just then, my eyes landed on the pile of clothes he’d set aside on the floor—my lace bra and camisole. A bitter sting pricked my nose. Just a few days ago, before the DNA test results came back, he wasn’t like this. Was blood really all that mattered to him? When my biological parents had shown up, I’d refused to even meet them. They abandon me for eighteen years and then decide they want me back now that I’m an adult? What kind of joke was that? My adoptive parents—our parents—insisted on not getting a DNA test, saying I would always be their daughter. But Liam… my brother… he was the one who had to confirm it, to shatter that last shred of hope that we were connected by blood. And now, in just a few short days, we’d become so distant that he couldn’t even stand to wash our clothes together. “Hmph. Fine, I’ll let go,” I snapped, kicking his shin playfully, though there was real anger behind it. “I’m moving out tomorrow anyway! You can have this whole mansion to yourself. I don’t want to be a burden, living under your roof!” I snatched my clothes and stormed off. Tears streamed down my face as I started to rewash my things in the sink. Wait a minute… where were my panties? They must have gotten lost in the shuffle. At dinner, an unspoken truce hung between us. Liam was silent, his focus entirely on placing more food onto my plate. I was still fuming, stubbornly shoveling food into my mouth without looking at him. Then, a red folder slid into my line of sight. “I transferred the deed to you a while ago,” Liam said, his tone casual, almost dismissive. “The house is yours. Don’t overthink it.” Because my university and his company were in the same city, our parents had bought this villa for us to share. It was easier than dorms, and he could drive me to and from campus. We’d grown up side-by-side, inseparable. He did my laundry, cooked my meals… he spoiled me more than our parents ever did. Everyone used to joke that he was a cold-hearted CEO to the world, but at home, he was just a pathetic simp for his sister. I had pushed myself to get into Avalon University just for him, just so we could keep living together. That way, when a horror movie scared me, I could still crawl into his bed. I could keep basking in the warmth of his affection. But that single, sterile piece of paper—the DNA report—had shattered everything. He’d become cold. Distant. I thought he was afraid I’d try to fight him for the family inheritance. But now he was just… giving me the house. Maybe I was the one with the twisted mind. Later that night, while Liam was in the shower, I snuck into his room, burrowing under his covers just like I used to. His bed smelled of ebony and sandalwood, an austere and sensual scent that was a perfect match for his restrained intensity. I was happily breathing it in when a flash of white under his pillow caught my eye. I tugged at it. It was my lace panties. My face went nuclear-hot. They were the ones from the laundry… the unwashed ones. What were they doing here? Click. The bathroom door opened. I dove back under the covers instantly. Peeking through a tiny gap, I saw Liam. His chest was bare, droplets of water tracing a path from his sharp jawline, over his Adam’s apple, and down to the sharp V of his hips, where a pair of silk pajama pants hung precariously. As he towel-dried his hair, the fabric swayed, and my gaze involuntarily dropped to the prominent bulge beneath. Note to self: next time I buy him underwear, go up a size. No wonder he never even opened the last pack I got him. A strange heat began to creep through my body. It was probably just stuffy under the blankets. He finished with his hair and slid into bed. The cool, smooth feel of his skin so close sent a shiver of excitement through me. Before he could react, I popped my head out from under the comforter, a sweet, innocent smile plastered on my face. “Lily! Get out!” His voice was louder than usual, sharp with authority. “Didn’t I tell you? You’re not allowed in my bed anymore!” He was yelling at me again. The force of his words stunned me. A wave of hurt washed over me, and my eyes welled with tears. “Why are you yelling at me? Don’t you even want to know why I came in here?” Seeing my tears, he immediately softened, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “What’s wrong? Okay, don’t cry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled. Just… talk to me.” Crying had always been my secret weapon against him. He couldn’t stand to see me cry. “I’m sorry, brother,” I choked out between sobs. “I misunderstood you earlier. I shouldn’t have said those things.” He was so good to me, and I’d accused him of such awful motives. A stray piece of my hair fell across his cheek. He sighed, and his hand lifted, an instinctual move to tuck it behind my ear. But he stopped, his fingers hovering in the air between us. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting some internal battle, before balling his hand into a fist and pulling it back. We were so close, my body sprawled over his. As our eyes met, I saw his pupils dilate, his breathing becoming ragged and shallow. “Brother,” I whispered. “Hmm?” I shifted uncomfortably. “Something’s… digging into me.” His arm tightened around me like a steel band, pinning me in place. “Don’t move,” he growled, his voice thick. “Brother, let me go, it’s uncomfortable.” “Don’t call me that.” What? So we couldn’t be real siblings, and now we couldn’t even be regular siblings? This corporate shark was truly heartless. Fine. See if I’d listen. “Brother, brother, brother…” I taunted, chanting the word over and over. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow, his long lashes trembling with the effort of his restraint. “If you say that one more time, I’ll ruin you.” The last two words were ground out between clenched teeth. I stuck my tongue out at him. “Brother, brother!” I wasn’t going to let him win. If he didn’t want me to say it, I’d scream it. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And then he moved, pulling me down hard against him. My eyes flew open as he buried his face in the curve of my neck. His damp hair brushed against my collarbone, and his hot breath sent sparks across my skin. A low, desperate groan escaped his throat, a sound that sent a jolt of pure electricity from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. His knee nudged my legs apart. “Liam,” I gasped, my sharp cry cutting through the charged silence. In my panic, my nails dug into his back, leaving a thin red line. I heard him hiss in a sharp breath. With a sudden, violent shove, Liam pushed me away. He scrambled out of bed and fled into the en-suite bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind a complete blank. A sliver of light escaped from under the bathroom door. I could see his tall, lean silhouette moving behind the frosted glass. God, his body was incredible—broad shoulders, narrow hips, every movement hinting at a tightly coiled strength. I remembered the feeling of that strength pinning me down, flipping me over… and my face began to burn again. If I hadn’t stopped him… My thoughts were still drifting when his shadow disappeared from the door. The main bedroom’s bathroom was set further back, but if I listened closely, I could still hear the shower turn on. The sound of rushing water filled the room, but beneath it, I could hear something else. Low, restrained gasps. Pained, desperate breaths. The sound of the water and his labored breathing washed over me, a strange, intoxicating symphony. Minutes ticked by. I told myself I’d wait for him to come out, wish him goodnight, and go back to my own room. But he was taking forever. Could he have passed out from the steam? “Are you okay in there?” I called out, a genuine thread of concern in my voice. “You’ve been in there for a while.” Silence. Then, his voice came, rough and raw. “Lily.” “Yeah?” “Walk over to the bathroom door.” I did as he asked, my bare feet silent on the plush carpet. “Liam, are you sure you’re okay?” The frosted glass reflected my own fuzzy image. I couldn’t see anything else. “Good. Stop right there. Don’t move.” His voice was even thicker now, his breathing more ragged, more urgent. It built and built until a final, choked-off groan tore from his throat. Then, silence. That night, I had a dream. I dreamt I was in his shower. Under the spray of hot water, he was looking down at me, coaxing me to open my mouth. I refused. The next second, his hand shot out, cupping my jaw, forcing my lips apart, wider and wider. He covered my eyes with his other hand. I was blind, but my other senses were on fire. I could hear the rustle of fabric, and then a torrent of fire was forced into my mouth. It wasn’t his usual cold arrogance; this was lava flowing just beneath a sheet of ice. My mouth was full, I couldn’t speak, only struggle against the burning sensation as it filled me, consumed me. Finally, when I couldn’t take any more, he pulled back, removing the hand from my eyes. The next morning, I woke up to a faint, sticky residue crusted at the corner of my mouth. I must have been drooling again, I thought. I knew sleeping with my mouth open was a bad habit; I even used those little mouth tapes to try and correct it. But every morning, the tape was gone, probably ripped off in my sleep. I really needed better self-control. “Liam, Lily, are you two awake?” Mom’s voice, a welcome and familiar sound, drifted in from the living room. Mom was here! Forgetting everything else, I bolted out of my room. She drove into town once a month to see us, always bringing her homemade strawberry jam and kimchi, and she’d usually tidy up the house for us. This time, along with the food, she’d brought me a gift: a butterfly-back dress. Her eyes were full of warmth as she held it up. “The moment I saw this in the store, I thought of you. I told your father, ‘Our Lily will look like an absolute angel in this.’” I held the dress against myself, hesitating. “It’s beautiful, Mom, but… isn’t it a little revealing? I’ve never even worn a skirt that doesn’t go past my knees.” This thing was so short, I felt like I’d flash someone just by bending over. Mom examined it again. “Well, it is a little sexy, I suppose. But you’re a college girl now, Lily! You can’t live in white t-shirts and jeans forever. A change of style is good! And this dress is perfect for you.” “But—” Before I could finish, Liam walked out of his room for breakfast. Mom immediately grabbed him, seeking his approval. “Liam, look! Isn’t this dress perfect for your sister?” He glanced at the dress, then at me, his expression unreadable. He gave Mom a clipped, dismissive “Mm-hmm.” That was all the encouragement she needed. “Then you’ll wear this on your date with Ethan this weekend! The Sanders family adores you. Mrs. Sanders was just telling me the other day…” At the mention of Ethan, I blushed. Ethan Sanders was Liam’s best friend and the heir to the Sanders Corp fortune. He’d even provided the seed money for Liam’s startup. Our parents had always hoped Ethan and I would get together; the alliance would be a huge boost for Liam’s company. Liam, who had been quietly eating his breakfast, cut Mom off. “It’s ugly. The dress is hideous, and it’ll look even worse on her.” “Hey! Don’t you talk about your sister that way.” “She’s not my sister,” Liam said, his voice dropping ten degrees. “Liam!” Mom’s voice shot up an octave. She was furious. The atmosphere in the living room turned thick and heavy. Mom glared at Liam, her lips a thin, hard line. I looked down, my hands twisting the hem of my shirt, my eyes starting to burn. Seeing my distress, Mom’s expression softened. She stroked my cheek gently before turning her glare back on her son. “Liam, if you ever say that again, you are no son of mine. As long as your father and I are alive, Lily is, and always will be, your sister.” “Oh my god, Ethan is going to lose his damn mind.” My cousin, Chloe, was practically vibrating with excitement after I’d filled her in and shown her the dress. I rolled my eyes. “Please. A guy like that has seen every kind of beautiful woman there is.” She wagged a finger at me. “Nuh-uh. The way that man looks at you… it’s so gentle. You’re exactly his type.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, listen to you, the relationship expert. So how does your god-tier guy look at you?” She paused to think. “Ethan’s gentle. My guy… he’s not. He looks at me like he wants to devour me whole.” Chloe had transformed into a self-proclaimed love guru ever since she started college. “The way he looks at me is… oh, I know! It’s the same way Liam looks at you!” “Ahem!” I nearly choked on my water. “You can talk crap about anything else, but not that.” “Fine, don’t believe me,” she said, fiddling with a charm on my backpack. “So, any plans for the long weekend?” “Liam’s teaching me how to bake. He already bought all the ingredients; I just need to be ready.” Her eyes lit up with mischief. She leaned in close, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Ooh, he’s got everything ready for you, huh?” She put a suggestive emphasis on the word ‘everything.’ “Huh?” It took me a second to catch her drift. “I mean, Liam hits the gym all the time, right? He must have crazy stamina. Can your little body even handle that?” Her meaning slammed into me. This girl’s mind was permanently in the gutter. I flicked her forehead. “You’re insane. Liam and I are siblings.” “So? Not by blood,” she shot back, leaning in even closer, her eyes gleaming. “Don’t you think the whole forbidden step-sibling thing is way hotter?” “You’re impossible.” … We horsed around until, before we knew it, the sky had grown dark and Liam was calling us for dinner. Just before we left my room, Chloe insisted I try on the dress. I slipped it on, and her eyes went wide. She pushed me in front of the full-length mirror. “Damn, girl. If you wore this with black stockings, Liam would be good for ten rounds a night.” I stared at my reflection. The iridescent lavender fabric clung to my curves, highlighting my collarbones, my narrow waist, my long legs. Chloe had swept my dark hair into a messy bun, letting a few wisps fall around the nape of my neck. The look was somehow both sweet and dangerously alluring. Seeing myself like this for the first time made me blush. I was just about to change when the door swung open. “This is the third time I’ve called you two for dinner. What are you doing in here?” Liam stood in the doorway, a spatula still in his hand. I had just started to unzip the dress. His gaze landed on my bare legs, then quickly darted away, but not before I saw the tips of his ears turn a deep shade of red. The air between the three of us crackled and froze. “Get dressed. And come eat,” he muttered, turning on his heel and all but running from the room. At the dinner table, Chloe kept casually bringing up my upcoming date with Ethan. Liam, who had been silent all evening, finally spoke, his voice low and firm. “Don’t go see him this weekend.” I was taken aback. “Why not? You were always fine with it before. You said he was a gentle guy, that he’d be good to me.” He placed a perfectly peeled shrimp in my bowl. “Things are different now.” “What’s different?” “You’re not my sister anymore.” There it was again. That phrase. I put down my chopsticks and looked him straight in the eye. “So, because I’m not your sister, I don’t even have the right to date your best friend? Is that it?” He wouldn’t meet my gaze, focusing on peeling another shrimp for me. “That’s not what I meant.” “Uh… Lily, cuz… my boyfriend just called. He’s going into labor—I mean, his cat is! Gotta go!” Chloe sensed the impending explosion, grabbed her bag, and bolted. Liam sighed heavily. “If you insist on seeing him, fine. Just don’t wear that dress.” A stubborn fire ignited in me. I was going to get to the bottom of this tonight. I stormed back to my room, not only putting the butterfly dress back on but also pulling on a pair of black stockings I’d never worn before. The mirror reflected a stranger with long, slender legs. Full of newfound confidence, I flung open my door. “Liam. Open your eyes and take a good, hard look. Tell me exactly what’s so ugly about this. If you can’t find a single flaw, then this is what I’m wearing on my date.” Liam’s eyes locked onto me, his dark pupils swimming in ink. A storm of suppressed emotion churned within them, like the oppressive, heavy sky before a hurricane. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, his voice thick and hoarse when he finally spoke. “Lily, don’t push me.” The next thing I knew, I was being lifted onto his lap, the familiar scent of dark woods and spice overwhelming my senses. The dim light cast our entangled shadows against the pale curtains. His hand came to rest on my thigh. The calloused pads of his fingers were a stark, rough contrast against the smooth silk of the stockings, sending a tremor through my entire body. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Lily, the reason I don’t want you to wear this dress… is because I’m afraid he’ll hurt you.” His voice was low, pleading. “You don’t understand men.” I gathered my courage. “And you? Do you want to hurt me?” I shifted, straddling him, my arms wrapping around his neck. The move closed the already nonexistent distance between us. I could see the thick fan of his lashes, the raw, unguarded emotion in his eyes. His breathing grew heavier, hotter. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, Lily.” Riiiiip. The sound of tearing fabric filled the silent room. My stockings. My dress. He was destroying it. Seeing the loss of control in his eyes, a real sense of panic began to set in. “Brother,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Don’t call me that!” he snarled. “And don’t look at me with those eyes!” At the same time, he surged upward. The sudden, intense pain made tears spring to my eyes, hot and fast. “Liam, calm down—” My words were smothered as his mouth crashed down on mine. He wasn’t just kissing me; he was consuming me, trying to devour me whole. In the chaotic haze, the hem of my ruined dress was pushed up to my waist. The dam of my tears broke, flooding my cheeks.

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Sprawled on the carpet, trying to catch my breath, a voice, high and childish like spilled milk, suddenly echoed in my mind. 【I’ve sacrificed way too much for Mommy to look pretty. Does anyone ever consider my feelings, being held by such a slob every day?】 I shot up, my eyes darting to my son, who was lying beside me, happily sucking on his fist. Just as I was about to dismiss it as a hallucination brought on by sheer exhaustion, the voice came again. 【What are you looking at? So annoying! If you weren’t halfway decent at taking care of me, I would’ve had Daddy kick you out ages ago!】 1. I pinched my arm, hard. The sharp sting of pain was proof: that voice was real. As I was trying to process what those words meant, the doorbell rang. A second later, my best friend, Serena, let herself in. Seeing her loaded down with shopping bags filled with baby supplies, I couldn’t help but sigh. “I told you we have everything, Serena. Stop wasting your money!” Serena dropped the bags and, with the ease of a frequent visitor, headed for the bathroom. “What’s wrong with spoiling my godson a little? Don’t get jealous, I got you some dessert, too!” The distraction was enough to temporarily push the strange incident to the back of my mind. I fished a slice of Black Forest cake from one of the bags. But as I settled onto the sofa, the voice returned. 【Mommy, come hold me! I miss your sweet smell!】 My hands froze over the dessert packaging. I watched as Serena emerged from the bathroom and walked briskly over to my son, scooping him into her arms. “Well, hello! Is my little Leo being a good boy today? Let your godmother get some cuddles!” After Serena nuzzled his little cheek, Leo giggled uncontrollably. And at the same time, I heard a contented sigh in my head. 【Mommy’s skin is so smooth! Ugh, if it wasn’t so much work for her, I’d want to be with her all day long!】 I didn’t understand why I was suddenly hearing these things. But the repeated cries of “Mommy,” clearly not directed at me, sparked a storm of questions. With this new context, I watched Serena and Leo together, and suddenly, things started to click into place in a way that made me feel sick. It seemed that every time Serena was here, Leo, who was usually a nightmare to soothe, would become an angel, all smiles and gurgles. Was it a coincidence? Or was my son, who couldn’t even control his own bladder yet, doing it on purpose? “You know, Serena,” I said, forcing a light, joking tone, “anyone who didn’t know better would think Leo was your son. He’s an absolute angel whenever you visit. If he were always this easy, I wouldn’t be such a wreck.” My eyes were locked on her, and I didn’t miss the flicker of pride that flashed in her eyes before she masked it. “Mia, don’t say that! I know raising a baby is hard, but think of all the joy and fulfillment Leo brings you, right?” The childish voice immediately chimed in with its own commentary. 【You’re the nanny my real mommy and daddy picked out! Know your place. It’s an honor for you to take care of me!】 Serena was too busy cooing at Leo to notice my face darken as I sank into a vortex of thought. I’d worked relentlessly through my pregnancy, and it had taken a toll. Leo was born premature and was a high-needs baby in every sense of the word. When he was uncomfortable, he had to be held constantly. The second you put him down, he’d start whimpering. A wet diaper had to be changed instantly; a moment’s delay and he’d launch into a full-blown meltdown, sometimes screaming himself into breath-holding fits that terrified me. Leo’s condition was so demanding that in my first three months postpartum, I’d bled through three different maternity nurses. Everyone told me it was my fault, that I hadn’t been careful enough during my pregnancy, causing him to suffer so much. I was drowning in guilt, and after his three-month milestone, I made a life-altering decision. I threw my career plans out the window, resigned from my job, and became a full-time mom. Leo was eight months old now. Even with a nanny to help, I was physically and mentally drained. In less than half a year of motherhood, I felt like I’d aged a decade. I had no energy to lose the baby weight, no motivation to put on makeup or fix my hair. Philip, my husband, saw it too. Other than perfunctory questions about Leo, he barely spoke to me anymore. I was resentful and hurt, but I was too exhausted to even start a fight. Five months of all-consuming childcare had pushed my marriage to the brink and my body to its breaking point. And now, I was hearing that Leo might not even be my son? If he wasn’t… then where was my baby? What was all this suffering, all this sacrifice, for? 2. My fingers traced the crinkly plastic of the cake box, a storm of emotions churning inside me. Twenty minutes ago, Serena was the person I was most grateful for in my lonely postpartum world. If it weren’t for her visits every few days, helping with the baby and listening to my endless complaints, I probably would have shattered long ago. But the child I was pouring my life into was calling her Mommy? It was too absurd. I let out a brittle laugh. “What’s so funny? Share the joke!” Serena looked up, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Our gazes met. This time, armed with suspicion, I really looked at her, and I froze. I’d always known Serena was attractive, but now… now she had a certain glow. A ripeness. I remembered her telling me she was away at a training seminar for most of my pregnancy. I remembered that when she finally reappeared after Leo was three months old, she was fuller, softer than I’d ever seen her. As much as I didn’t want to believe it, the answer was screaming at me. For a moment, the world tilted, and I felt like I couldn’t stay upright. “Hey, you okay? Spacing out again? Don’t tell me the baby brain is permanent.” Serena casually placed Leo on the playmat on the floor. My eyes followed him, and I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable screaming to start. Instead, Leo started playing by himself, content. It was a universe away from his usual behavior, where being put down meant at least ten minutes of solid wailing. A wave of helplessness washed over me. The difference in his treatment of us was so blatant. How had I never seen it before? “Mia? What’s wrong? I’ve been talking to you for ages.” I couldn’t let her know I was onto her. Not yet. I had too many questions. I mumbled an excuse about being sleep-deprived and changed the subject, asking Serena if she was free tomorrow. “Anything you need help with, you know you can just ask!” she said, feigning a pout. I forced a grateful, apologetic smile. “It’s just… my heart’s been feeling a little weird lately. I want to get it checked out. If you have time, could you watch Leo for me? I don’t feel comfortable leaving him alone with the nanny.” I was eighty percent sure, but I needed absolute proof before I decided what to do next. Until then, I couldn’t completely let go of Leo. So if I was going out, I needed a babysitter. My parents were out of town on vacation. My in-laws, who subtly blamed me for Leo’s health issues, were a source of constant friction. We avoided each other unless Philip was around. If Serena really was Leo’s mother, then she was, ironically, the best person for the job. Thankfully, she agreed without a second thought. I’d read online about what was needed for a DNA test. As we chatted, my mind raced, trying to figure out how to get a sample from her. Suddenly, I remembered a pair of diamond hair clips she’d admired several times. Serena watched, confused, as I got up and went to my closet. When I returned with a small hand mirror, she raised an eyebrow. “What are you up to?” Without a word, I clipped one of the sparkling pins into her hair. Then I held up the mirror. “You always said you loved these. My hair’s falling out so much, I doubt I’ll ever get to wear them again. It’d be a waste for them to just sit in a box.” In the mirror, Serena’s face lit up. She touched the clip, a wide smile spreading across her face, though her words were modest. “Your hair will grow back! These are so expensive, Mia, I can’t take them.” “Oh, let me fix it, it’s not sitting right,” I said, and with a calculated tug, I pulled the clip out. “Ouch!” Serena yelped. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” I said, feigning horror. “Look at me, I’ve developed super-strength from carrying the baby all day! I think I pulled out a few strands. Don’t be mad!” I quickly plucked the hairs tangled in the clip’s teeth and tossed them into the nearby wastebasket. Serena just laughed, rubbing the sore spot on her head. “Why would I be mad? It’s just the price of beauty!” 3. Not long after Serena left, giddy with her five-figure hair clip, an exhausted Leo finally fell asleep. While the nanny was busy in the other room, I retrieved the hairs from the trash can. My tug must have been forceful enough; nearly every strand had a follicle attached. I sealed them in a small labeled bag. I then pulled out a few of my own hairs and put them in a separate bag. Leo’s hair was too fine to see the follicles clearly, so I decided to wait until he woke up. I’d clip his nails and put them in a bag along with a few strands of his hair. When Philip got home from work, I told him I needed to go to the hospital for a check-up. For the first time in months, he showed a sliver of concern. “If you’re really that tired, we can hire another nanny, or have our moms take turns helping. You can’t keep pushing yourself like this.” I took a sip of water to hide the bitter taste that rose in my chest. If I hadn’t spent my pre-motherhood years forging a will of iron at my old job, the last few months would have completely broken me. If it weren’t for the bizarre events of today, his sudden kindness might have moved me to tears. But now, all I could think about was Leo calling him “Daddy” and Serena “Mommy.” My heart felt like a block of ice. We’d been sleeping in separate rooms ever since Leo was born, so my sleepless nights wouldn’t disturb Philip’s rest and affect his work the next day. But because I’d mentioned my heart, he volunteered, for the first time ever, to have Leo sleep with him for the night. The next morning, a refreshed-looking Philip placed Leo in my arms. “This kid really knows how to behave. I told him he couldn’t be fussy last night, otherwise Daddy would be too tired for work, and he actually slept through the whole night!” I managed a weak smile and looked down at Leo, whose big eyes stared back at me. And then, the voice. 【Of course I’m gonna be good for my real dad. But you? The nanny? I’m going to make your life hell! It’s all your fault Mommy can’t live with us!】 Before the nanny could clean the guest room, I searched every inch of the bed Philip had slept in, finding what I needed. Serena arrived early. After giving her a few instructions, I walked out of the apartment alone. Breathing in the fresh air, I felt a wave of dizziness. I was almost in a trance. How long had it been since I’d really looked at the sky? How long since I’d felt the sun on my skin? All I did was have a baby. How did I lose control of my entire life? I had a friend who worked at a DNA testing lab. I paid extra for a rush job. He’d probably seen situations like mine a thousand times, because he didn’t ask a single question, just took the samples and personally oversaw the process. He told me the earliest I could get the results was tomorrow. With that, I went to the hospital. My heart really was giving me trouble. For months, the longest stretch of sleep I’d gotten was less than three hours. I was a wreck of anxiety and exhaustion, my hair falling out in clumps. My days started with a baby’s cry, and my dreams were filled with his incessant wails. I couldn’t even imagine what state I’d be in if I didn’t have a nanny to handle the housework and lend a hand when I was overwhelmed. “Your cardiac ischemia is quite severe,” the doctor said, his expression grave. “You need to fix your sleep schedule immediately. If you let this continue, you’re at high risk for sudden cardiac arrest.” When I got home, Serena was on the couch, holding Leo as they watched TV. When I repeated the doctor’s warning, she fell silent for a long time. “Mia, you have to hire more help. I’ll come over more often, too. You can’t keep going on like this.” 4. When Philip came home, he stared at my diagnosis report for a long time. Before bed, I overheard him making a call to his mother. The next morning, my in-laws were at the door with suitcases. Philip, who hadn’t left for work yet, spent a while explaining things to them. After he left, my mother-in-law, for once, didn’t give me the cold shoulder. “Mia, why don’t you go get some more sleep? Your father and I have it handled for the month. If you think we’re doing okay, we can keep helping. If not, we can trade off with your parents. We’ll all learn together. We won’t let you carry this all by yourself again.” That morning, just as he did with Serena, Leo put on his best behavior for his grandparents. While I caught up on sleep, he only cried once. A world of difference from when I was alone with him. On my way to the bathroom, I overheard my in-laws talking in the study. “Our grandson isn’t nearly as difficult as Mia makes him out to be,” my mother-in-law whispered. “Do you think maybe she’s just not good at this? That she’s run herself ragged for no reason?” My father-in-law shushed her, telling her to just focus on helping. But she wasn’t done. “And that doctor’s report… is it even real? You don’t think she’s fooling our son, do you? It’s one thing for Mia to be ambitious, but if she’s pulling a stunt like this just to get back to work, I won’t let her get away with it!” I slipped back into my room and picked up my phone, my fingers hovering over the screen, about to ask my friend for an update. Just then, a message from him popped up with a link. 【Mia, the baby isn’t yours. But he is biologically related to the other two samples.】 The phone felt like a block of ice in my hand. The heart that had been suspended in anxiety for the past twenty-four hours plummeted into a black abyss. My hands trembled as I clicked the link. I read the conclusions of the three reports over and over and over again. The names on the sample bags were in my own handwriting. And my friend was meticulous; with him watching over the process, there was zero chance of a mix-up. So it was true. The man I had loved for years and the woman I had grown up with, my best friend, had betrayed me in the most intimate way possible. And I, like an idiot, had given up my promising career, sacrificed my health, and poured every ounce of my being into raising their child. Then where was my baby? During the months I spent in a sleep-deprived haze caring for Leo, was my child warm? Was my child fed? My child. Was she even alive? When you’re hit with the purest form of sorrow, you can’t even make a sound. I pounded on my chest, trying to force air into my lungs, as tears fell, hot and silent, onto my shirt. After nearly half an hour of suffocating grief, I started making calls. First to a few of my most trusted friends. Then, I called the police. When I finally emerged from my room, my eyes were swollen and red. My mother-in-law started to say something but stopped when she saw my face. She shot a look at my father-in-law, then sat next to me, bouncing Leo on her knee. “Mia, look how good Leo’s been all morning. Here, you hold him.” The moment my eyes met Leo’s, his smug little voice filled my head. 【You hold me, I dare you. I’ll scream my head off. I love watching you panic!】 I ignored him, staring blankly into the middle distance as if I hadn’t heard a thing. My friends arrived quickly. My in-laws, though confused by the sudden crowd, bustled around, offering everyone water. But their hospitality vanished when the next person to walk through the door was Philip, who should have been at the office. My mother-in-law’s face soured. “Mia, what is so important that you had to drag Philip out of work?” As she was complaining, the doorbell rang again. This time, it was the police. My friends remained calm, but my in-laws and Philip all wore varying expressions of shock and alarm. “First you call all your friends, and now the police? What the hell are you doing, Mia?” Philip’s voice was low and furious. I finally looked at him, and my own voice came out, each word a shard of ice. “Where is my child? The baby I gave birth to. What did you do with her?”

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I came home with the breakthrough technology that would save my husband’s company, ready to give him the surprise of his life. The first surprise, however, was mine. Splashed across every screen in the airport was the breaking news: Larry Armitage, my husband, returning to our ‘love nest’ with another woman. At first, I brushed it off. Women had been throwing themselves at him for years, and he’d always dealt with them before I even had to lift a finger. But when I arrived at the gala he was hosting at our estate, the smart gate scanned my face and chimed with a cold, robotic voice: “Permission insufficient. Access denied.” I used my backup key, only to be met with the shriek of a high-decibel security alarm. And then, stepping out of the grand entrance, was the woman he’d told me was dead. His first love. She was wearing my wedding ring. Isla Hayes looked me up and down with a sneer of pure contempt. “This party is for people who can make the whole city shake with a single phone call. And what are you supposed to be?” she scoffed. “Get lost, before I call the cops.” Her smug, triumphant expression was so infuriating I had to laugh. “Get Larry Armitage out here right now,” I snapped. “I want an explanation. Since when does he let any and every piece of trash into our home?” 1 “A lunatic, raving at the gate? Are the security guards dead?” Isla gave me a strange look, and the assistant hovering behind her immediately started barking at me. “Who the hell do you think you are, using Mr. Armitage’s name like that?” Isla crossed her arms, her eyes flicking to the employee ID card still clipped to my jacket. “Just some low-level drone. Call HR. Have her fired.” Fired? Isla clearly had no idea that I was the primary investor in the entire Armitage Corporation. I’d never wanted to work at such a small company in the first place, but Larry had begged me for three months straight, whining that his heart ached every second we were apart. I’d only relented to put his mind at ease. And now his mistress was standing on my doorstep, trying to have me fired from my own company. I strode past her, heading for the security intercom to confront Larry myself. The fingerprint scanner glowed green, and a moment later, Larry’s face appeared on the screen. He was holding a champagne flute, schmoozing with a circle of business elites. “Hey, what’s wrong? Forget the passcode again?” he chuckled, his voice dripping with affection. “My little scatterbrain. Honestly, you’re so hopeless sometimes. I’ll have my assistant come get you in a minute. Mom’s waiting for you to come chat with her.” His tender tone stopped me cold. He had no idea I was back in the country. Seeing her chance, Isla shoved me aside, pressing her face to the camera and cooing, “Honey, just tell your mom to wait a little longer for me. I’ll be right there.” Mom? Could it be? Was his mother—the woman who’d always looked down on me, who treated me with nothing but thinly veiled contempt—in on this too? The moment he heard Isla’s voice, Larry’s gaze softened, his expression melting into a look of pure adoration that made my stomach churn. “Larry Armitage,” I snarled, my voice raw. “Get your ass out here right now!” He frowned. “Who’s that?” Isla shot me a venomous glare. “Just some beggar. I’m about to get rid of her.” Larry’s face hardened. “The guests tonight are the most important people in this city. Don’t let a piece of trash like that ruin everything.” The man who’d clung to me at the airport just before I left, his eyes red as he told me how much he’d miss me, now couldn’t even recognize my voice. Fury surged through me. I shoved my face in front of the camera. “Larry, look at me! It’s me! I guess you don’t want the core technology after all, do you!” Before the words were even out of my mouth, Isla’s assistant grabbed me by the hair and slammed me to the ground. Isla strode over and slapped me hard across the face. The diamond on my wedding ring—the one now on her finger—sliced my forehead open. Blood streamed down my face. Larry glanced coldly at my bloody, unrecognizable face. He didn’t even register who I was. “Get rid of her,” he said, his voice flat. “The company is at a critical turning point. I don’t need distractions like this.” Then he cut the feed. The silence that followed was deafening. My heart turned to ice. When his company’s technology was failing, he’d been so consumed with worry he couldn’t sleep for nights on end. So I personally led a team overseas, pouring three years of my life, my health, my very blood, into developing a solution. I had come home to give him a wonderful surprise. I never imagined he’d have an even bigger one waiting for me. It seemed that while I was in the lab, suffering from radiation exposure, vomiting blood and in and out of the hospital, he was busy rekindling an old flame. If that’s how it was, then whether his company survived or not had nothing to do with me anymore. I turned to leave, but Isla blocked my path. “Made your scene and now you want to just walk away? What about our family’s reputation?” She nodded at her assistant, who grabbed my shoulders and forced me to my knees. I had never been so humiliated in my entire life. My parents’ empire was based overseas, but our connections and resources in this country were second to none. It was the only reason Larry Armitage had gone from a complete nobody to one of the city’s most powerful figures overnight. Furious, I pulled out my phone and dialed the police. Isla just watched me, a smug, unbothered smile on her face. “Go ahead. Call whoever you want. Even if you called the president himself, I wouldn’t be scared.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Even if I killed you right here, in front of everyone, he wouldn’t dare do a thing to me. You should know who runs this city, shouldn’t you?” Soon, two police cruisers, lights flashing, screamed up to the gate. “Alright, break it up! What’s going on here!” I recognized the officer in charge. My own uncle had personally promoted him. Isla’s smugness was practically radiating off her. I raised an eyebrow, a cold fury settling in my gut. If Larry was going to play this game, I had no problem slapping him in the face in front of the entire city. I struggled to my feet. “Isla Hayes, for assault and battery. I don’t want compensation. I want her to rot in a cell—” Before I could finish, the officer walked right past me and addressed Isla with a fawning deference. “Mrs. Armitage. Are you alright?” I couldn’t believe it. I’d had dinner with this man just before I left the country. How could he turn on me so completely? Isla’s lips curved into a triumphant smirk. “I’m fine. Just some trash causing trouble.” The officer’s face hardened as he turned to me. I stared at him, my expression blank. “Have you forgotten who my uncle is?” A flicker of fear crossed his eyes, but he quickly covered it with a blustering arrogance. “Disturbing the peace in a public place. We’re taking you in. Let’s see how tough you are then.” It all clicked into place. While I was away, the entire city had accepted Isla Hayes as the new Mrs. Armitage. A humorless smile touched my lips. “Fine. Then you can get ready to turn in your badge.” He swallowed hard, panic flashing across his face. Isla’s assistant spat on the ground. “Crazy bitch! Threatening a police officer! Take her away! Mr. Armitage himself gave the order!” I ignored him, my eyes locked on the officer. “Are you sure you want to do this to me—” Before I could finish, he drew his stun baton and slammed it into my stomach. The fear in his eyes was replaced by a brutal resolve. “I don’t care who you are! In this city, what Mr. Armitage says, goes! Let’s see how long that tough mouth of yours lasts down at the station!” It felt like my organs had been rearranged. Agony ripped through me, and a cold sweat beaded on my forehead. At his signal, the other officers closed in. I clutched my stomach, my voice like ice. “I am Larry Armitage’s wife. I dare you to touch me. Do you have a death wish?” The other officers froze, hesitating. Isla spat. She brought the heel of her stiletto down on my hand, grinding it into the pavement. “So that’s it. You’re trying to seduce my husband! You shameless whore. Today, I’ll make an example of you for any other little trollop with ideas.” She pressed down, and the sharp heel bored a bleeding hole in my palm. I bit back a scream. Still not satisfied, she snatched the baton from the officer and brought it down hard on my head. Blood gushed, blurring my vision. As I thrashed on the ground, the USB drive containing the core technology tumbled from my pocket. I instinctively reached for it, but Isla was faster. Seeing the amount of blood, the lead officer grew nervous. “Ma’am, let’s not take this too far. Let me just take her in.” Isla shoved him away. Her assistant puffed out his chest. “Take it too far? Armitage Corporation has enough money to buy a dozen lives like hers! Didn’t you hear? Some guy bumped into Ms. Hayes at a coffee shop last week, and Mr. Armitage had his hands broken!” Isla grabbed my chin, her nails digging into my flesh. “His wife couldn’t even compete with me. And you think you have a chance climbing into his bed?” My blood ran cold. “You know his wife?” Her eyes gleamed with victory. “Just some useless, washed-up hag. She ran off to another country with her tail between her legs, didn’t she?” So Larry had never told her the real reason I was gone. Before I could speak, Isla addressed the growing crowd of onlookers. “Whoever gives this bitch the beating she deserves gets ten million dollars!” That was all it took. The police stepped back, and the crowd surged forward, shouting obscenities. “We hate sluts like you who throw themselves at married men!” “You’re not leaving here until you bow down to Ms. Hayes a hundred times!” Someone stepped on my shoulders, forcing my face into the dirt again and again. Another person grabbed my arm, trying to break my fingers. I gritted my teeth, my voice shaking with rage. “Isla, the data on that drive is the core technology Larry needs. I suggest you let me go. Or he will never forgive you!” Isla picked up the drive, examining it. “Core technology?” She paused, then laughed dismissively. “One minute you’re his wife, the next you’re an employee. Do you even believe your own lies?” With that, she dropped the drive and crushed it under her heel. “Let’s just see how he never forgives me.” Her assistant then unleashed a volley of slaps, so many I lost count. The taste of blood filled my mouth. My face swelled until it was unrecognizable. Isla smiled, the victor. She turned to the crowd, her voice a sharp warning. “This is what happens to any delusional fool who thinks she can climb into Larry Armitage’s bed! If I find anyone else trying to seduce my man, they’ll end up far worse than her!”

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I dumped Ethan Thorne the year he was at his poorest. The next time we met, I was unemployed, and he was the CEO, personally sitting in on my final-round interview. When he saw my name on the applicant list, a smirk curled his lip. He decided to humiliate me in front of everyone. “Apologies,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet room. “This company has a strict policy against hiring opportunistic, morally bankrupt people. There are no pathetic men here for you to manipulate.” My hand moved before my brain could catch up. The sharp crack of my palm against his cheek echoed in the stunned silence. Ethan Thorne, the man on the cover of Forbes, slumped in his chair and passed out cold. In the emergency room, his assistant—a woman who looked unnervingly like a younger, softer version of me—was sobbing, her voice thick with accusation. “You bitch! Don’t you know Mr. Thorne can’t stand being touched by women? He has a severe psychosomatic aversion! I’m the only exception. You need some self-respect. Stop throwing yourself at every man you see! And that face… you had surgery to look like me, didn’t you?” A laugh almost escaped my lips. Instead, I leaned over Ethan’s “unconscious” form on the hospital bed. “If you play dead for one more second,” I whispered into his ear, “I’m going to tell everyone you have acute touch starvation, and that you didn’t pass out from the slap. You passed out from pleasure.” In the next instant, as if struck by lightning, Ethan shot upright. A pained, murderous smile stretched across his face. “The interview was a success,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “You start tomorrow.” 1 I never expected to see Ethan again, and certainly not like this. He was the center of gravity in the interview room, the CEO presiding over a panel of nervous executives. He watched me walk in, a cool, appraising look in his eyes that was worlds away from the boy I once knew. When our gazes met, he registered the shock on my face before dismissing me as if I were a stranger, his attention drifting to the window. The Ethan of my memory wore faded band t-shirts and worn-out sneakers, his smile shy and warm. The man before me was encased in a bespoke suit, a fortress of cool confidence and imposing success. He was a different person, sculpted from ambition and ice. When exes run into each other, the one whose life is in shambles is the one who feels the burn of embarrassment. Today, that was me. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. His suit probably cost more than my entire net worth. My outfit, from head to toe, was under forty dollars. The finality with which I had once cut him out of my life was now matched only by the crushing weight of my regret. If I’d had any idea he owned this company, I would have sooner starved than walk through these doors. There were five of us in the group interview. I was last in line. When my turn came to introduce myself, Ethan didn’t even bother to look up from the file he was pretending to read. His indifference was a physical force, a heat lamp scorching my skin. I couldn’t see his expression, but I could feel his contempt. After the last candidate finished, Ethan’s female assistant leaned in and whispered, “Mr. Thorne, if you have no further questions for this group, I’ll show them out?” It was a polite dismissal. The other four candidates wore masks of disappointment. I, on the other hand, felt a wave of relief so profound I almost sagged. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. But then Ethan spoke. “Wait.” He lifted his head, and his eyes—dark, unreadable pools of judgment—locked directly onto mine. In the space of a few seconds, I saw a storm of emotions flicker across his face: disgust, mockery, disdain. “Everyone else can proceed to the second round,” he announced, his voice flat and cold. “Everyone except… Ava Chen.” 2 The air in the room shifted. Every eye turned to me. I could feel the heat of their collective gaze, a mixture of pity and morbid curiosity. The other interviewers looked just as surprised; this was the first time their boss had ever been so merciless, so publicly dismissive of a candidate. Only Ethan’s assistant, after a quick, assessing glance at my face, allowed a small, knowing smile to touch her lips. Her eyes held a flicker of contempt. My own mortification began to curdle into a hot, simmering anger. My resume, my academic credentials—they weren’t the worst in this group. Not by a long shot. To single me out like this, in front of everyone… no one would believe it wasn’t personal. I could live with not working here, but I couldn’t swallow this insult. Ethan had clearly forgotten the kind of temper I had. It had been a while. I forced a tight, bright smile onto my face. “Excuse me, sir,” I said, my voice dangerously sweet. “You said I’m not qualified. May I ask for a reasonable explanation?” He didn’t hesitate. He picked up my resume, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the wastebasket beside his desk with a theatrical flick of his wrist. He let out a short, sharp laugh. “Apologies,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “This company has a strict policy against hiring opportunistic, morally bankrupt people. I can’t have that kind of filth tainting the workplace. Besides, there are no pathetic men here for you to manipulate. You can take a left out the door. I hear Marcus Thorne—you know, the real estate tycoon, freshly divorced from wife number four—is always looking for… company.” A collective gasp rippled through the room. Some of the other candidates stifled snickers, their whispers just loud enough to hear. “Damn. All that for an Ivy League degree? Gives the school a bad name. Guess you can’t judge a book by its cover. Some women will do anything for a buck.” “Serves her right for trying to sleep her way to the top. I bet her whole resume is fake.” “She’s not even that pretty. Probably all plastic. And she has the nerve to question the CEO? The audacity is almost funny. Pathetic.” … With every muttered insult, I kept my eyes locked on Ethan. And with every insult, a dark, triumphant glint in his eyes grew brighter. This was his victory lap. All the years of grinding, of building this empire—it was all for this single moment. To stand on his mountain and watch me burn. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. If I was going down, he was coming with me. Under the shocked stares of everyone in the room, I strode forward. I walked right up to his expensive desk, raised my hand, and brought it down across his face with all the force I could muster. The room erupted in a symphony of shrieks and gasps. Ethan tumbled sideways out of his ergonomic chair, hitting the plush carpet with a dull thud. He was out cold. His face, where my hand had connected, was already turning a violent shade of red. The assistant rushed to his side, cradling his head in her lap. “You bitch!” she screamed, her voice cracking with fury. “Who the hell do you think you are? You’re finished! If anything happens to Mr. Thorne, I’ll make sure you rot in jail!” She then rounded on the other executives, who were frozen in place. “What are you all staring at? Call an ambulance, you useless idiots!” The berated employees, though clearly taken aback by her tone, fumbled for their phones and did as they were told. An assistant didn’t technically outrank them, but she wore the mantle of the boss’s chosen one like a second skin. They weren’t about to argue. This time, I didn’t say a word. I was too busy studying the assistant’s face. This woman… why did she look so much like me? 3 Because I was the one who threw the punch, I had to accompany them to the hospital. In the emergency room, I stood against the wall with a few other shell-shocked employees, feeling like a misbehaving child outside the principal’s office. The only one moving was the assistant. She sat by Ethan’s bedside, clutching his hand, her tears falling onto the crisp white sheets. You would think he was on his deathbed. One of the managers tried to reason with her. “Chloe, the doctor said Mr. Thorne is fine. He just needs to rest. I’ve already called his housekeeper; someone will be here soon. Maybe we should head back to the office? There’s still a long line of candidates waiting.” Chloe wiped her eyes and shot the man a venomous glare. “Mr. Thorne is in this state, and all you can think about is work? Do you have a heart? If it weren’t for his generosity, you’d all be out on the street begging for a job, just like her!” The employees, who had earned their positions through skill and hard work, looked bewildered. I, the collateral damage in her tirade, was even more confused. How did looking for a job equate to begging? No one dared to challenge her, so Chloe redirected the full force of her fury back to me. “What’s that look on your face? Am I wrong? I saw the gaps in your resume. Who knows what sordid things you were doing during that time. You did this to him! Don’t you feel any guilt at all?” I asked, genuinely curious, “Did what, exactly? Is he dying?” Because if he was, I needed to go buy some fireworks. A single slap that could kill a man—that was a skill worth marketing. I could start a masterclass in the Iron Palm technique. “Aah! Shut up!” she shrieked. “If you curse him again, I’ll make sure you never find work in this city! I’ll personally call every company and blacklist you!” I nodded slowly. “Wow. For an assistant, you have a lot of power.” My calm, dismissive tone sent her into a fresh rage. She shot to her feet, her face a mask of tragic, tear-stained sorrow. “Do you want to know why the doctors can’t find anything wrong with him? I’ll tell you. Mr. Thorne has a rare condition. A severe psychosomatic aversion. He can’t be touched by any woman! I am the only one who can get close to him. I am his only exception! So do yourself a favor and get some self-respect. Stop throwing yourself at men with these cheap, pathetic tricks!” Her eyes raked over my face, a mixture of contempt and smug satisfaction in her expression. “And I know you’re aware of how special I am to him. It’s obvious. You had your face surgically altered to look like mine. But it’s a pathetic imitation. A knock-off can never be the original. You’re not even in the same league.” I almost lunged at her. Excuse me? This face is one hundred percent natural, thank you very much. I was with her boss back when she was probably still in high school learning her multiplication tables. She thought she knew Ethan so well? Funny. I knew him better. On the way in, I’d cornered a doctor who confirmed my suspicions. Ethan’s fainting spell had nothing to do with physical trauma. It was, he’d said, likely the result of some kind of intense psychological shock. Even the doctor couldn’t pinpoint what it was. But I knew. In the entire world, I was probably the only one who did. A cold smile touched my lips. Ignoring Chloe’s frantic protests, I leaned over Ethan’s “unconscious” form. “If you play dead for one more second,” I whispered, my voice a low, menacing hum in his ear, “I’m going to tell everyone you have acute touch starvation, and that you didn’t pass out from the slap. You passed out from pleasure.” A medical miracle occurred. The man who had been utterly unresponsive, practically a corpse, suddenly shot upright on the gurney. He looked like a zombie rising from the grave, startling everyone in the room into a stunned, awkward silence. After a moment that stretched for an eternity, Ethan slowly turned his head. He fixed his gaze on me, a pained, murderous smile stretching his lips. “The interview was a success,” he said, each word a carefully ground-out threat. “You start tomorrow.” 4 And just like that, with one sentence, the overbearing CEO had hired me. A true medical marvel. Under Chloe’s gaze of pure, unadulterated disbelief, I officially became an employee of Thorne Industries. To be honest, aside from the excruciatingly awkward fact that the CEO was my ex-boyfriend, I was more than happy with the company. It was thriving, the boss was generous and hands-off, the pay was excellent, and overtime was non-existent. The hours were nine-to-five with weekends off, catered lunches were prepared by a five-star chef, and there was no clocking in. Ethan was the classic example of someone who’d been drenched in the rain and now wanted to hold an umbrella for others. He was a bastard of an ex, but a damn good boss. News of “The Slap,” as it came to be known, had somehow leaked. When I showed up for my first day, I was met with a barrage of curious stares. It made sense. The woman who sent the CEO to the hospital and still got the job? I’d be curious too. But once they saw my face, the curiosity melted into something else—a shared, knowing look of disdain. The rumors started spreading like wildfire through the company’s Slack channels. CEO Thorne is secretly in love with his assistant, Chloe. Hiring the doppelgänger is proof. No, the new girl got plastic surgery to look like Chloe on purpose. The slap was just a crazy stunt to get his attention. Within three days, I was completely ostracized. I worked alone, ate lunch alone, and was never invited to after-work drinks. I didn’t mind in the slightest. The peace and quiet was a welcome change. Thanks to Ethan’s leadership, the company culture was refreshingly professional and free of petty drama. As long as I did my job well, most people left me alone. There was just one problem. I felt a muscle twitch in my jaw. In the faint reflection on my desktop monitor, I could see him again—a dark, brooding figure lurking just outside the glass wall of my department. The first time I saw Ethan standing in the corner of my periphery, watching me, I almost jumped out of my skin. He looked like a ghost haunting the halls. After a few days, I was starting to get used to it. When the guy from the next cubicle came over to ask a question, I ignored the specter in the hallway and focused on my work. It wasn’t until I was in the breakroom, agreeing to go to a team dinner that night, that Ethan finally emerged from the shadows. He stood in the doorway, his dark eyes fixed on me, saying nothing. I pretended not to know him and tried to walk past. He stepped into my path, his face a thundercloud. “Ava,” he said, his voice low and tight. “Is it so hard to greet your boss when you see him? Have you forgotten basic manners?” I feigned surprise. “Oh! Mr. Thorne. I’m so sorry, I didn’t recognize you. It’s been a while, you know? Well, I’ll let you get back to it. If there’s nothing else, I should probably—” I tried to squeeze past him, but he shot out a hand and grabbed my wrist. The contact was electric. A split second later, he recoiled as if he’d been burned, snatching his hand back. His ears turned a deep, tell-tale shade of crimson. I glanced at his trembling fingers. It had been years, but his condition, far from getting better, had clearly gotten worse. 5 His hand might have been shaking, but his tongue was as sharp as ever. “You work fast, Ava,” he sneered. “Barely here a week and you’ve already sunk your claws into someone. Don’t waste your time. I had HR pull his file. His parents are middle-class government employees. No trust fund, no family money. He doesn’t meet your… requirements. I’d find a new target if I were you.” It was hard to reconcile this man, spitting such casual, venomous words, with the boy I once knew—the one who would get so nervous around me he’d sometimes stutter. I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “Oh? And who do you suggest I target next?” A muscle jumped in his jaw. He didn’t answer. I shoved past him and left the breakroom, nearly colliding with Chloe, who was on her way to find him. She shot me a dirty look before rushing past me into the room. Her anxious voice drifted out into the hall. “Mr. Thorne, are you alright? You look like you’re about to fall! Can you stand? God, what did that woman do to you this time? What? Shh? What do you mean, ‘shh’?” … My deskmate’s name was Leo. After work, I joined him and a few other colleagues for dinner. I made a point of being open and friendly, showing no signs of resentment or sadness from being the office pariah. Over the course of the meal, I could feel their opinions of me shifting. They started to see that the person from the rumors didn’t match the person sitting in front of them. When they decided to head to a nearby bar afterward, they invited me along. After a few rounds of drinking games, my head started to spin. I slipped outside for some fresh air. The door opened behind me a moment later. It was Leo. He had a kind, boyish face and a gentle smile. He offered me a small bottle. “Here. I bought this on the way over. It’s one of those hangover cures. It’ll help.” I had a rule about not accepting drinks from people, so I politely declined. He wasn’t offended; in fact, his smile seemed to soften. He leaned against the brick wall next to me, sipping the drink himself. “Ava, maybe you should take it easy for the rest of the night,” he said. “Or, if you want, I could be your black knight and take some of the shots for you.” I smiled. “That’s sweet of you, Leo, thanks. But aren’t you a little young to be playing the hero?” He nearly choked on his drink, his face flushing a little. “Hey, I’m your senior colleague, technically. That means you should be calling me ‘sir,’ not pointing out my age.” I was about to tease him again when the door to the private room next to ours swung open. Ethan stepped out, and his eyes met mine. The music from inside was loud, so Leo hadn’t heard the door. He was still looking at me, his expression earnest. “So, Ava… you’re really beautiful. Do you have a boyfriend?” Ethan froze. A wicked little spark ignited in my chest. I hummed thoughtfully. “I do, actually. We’ve been together for a while.” I watched the light go out of Leo’s eyes. He looked like a puppy who’d just had its tail stepped on, and for a fleeting, painful moment, he reminded me so much of a younger Ethan. Back then, Ethan had been just as transparent, his every emotion written plainly on his face. “Then the rumors about you and Mr. Thorne—” “Oh, Mr. Thorne! What a coincidence! Fancy seeing you here,” I chirped, cutting Leo off before he could finish. I acted as if I’d just noticed Ethan standing there. Leo snapped back to reality, spinning around and nearly bowing. “Mr. Thorne! Good evening, sir.” Ethan’s tense expression softened slightly. He wasn’t going to take it out on the kid. “Leo,” he acknowledged with a nod. “Just wrapped up a client dinner.” Leo, ever polite, made a casual offer. “Well, since you’re here, would you like to join us for a bit?” Any normal boss would have politely declined. But Ethan Thorne was not a normal boss. “Alright,” he said, and without another word, he pushed open the door to our room and walked inside. The booming karaoke music inside our room screeched to a halt, replaced by a chorus of stunned, sober voices. “Good evening, Mr. Thorne!” 6 Chloe must have heard the commotion from next door. She appeared in the hallway a moment later, and when she saw me, her face soured. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Are you stalking Mr. Thorne? I’m warning you, Ava. One more stunt like this and I’m calling the police.” Leo, finally recovering from his shock, jumped to my defense. “You’ve got it all wrong, Chloe. A few of us from the office are just having a team dinner here. We ran into Mr. Thorne by chance. He’s in our room right now.” Chloe’s eyes darted between Leo and me, and a derisive smirk twisted her lips. “You’re really something, Ava. Not only did you manage to trick Mr. Thorne into joining you, but you’ve got a backup plan right here.” She gestured at Leo. “I have to wonder, could you even function without a face that looks like mine? You should really send a thank you card to your plastic surgeon for the life you have now.” She then turned her dismissive gaze on Leo. “And you,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “If you have a crush on me, just ask me out directly. What’s the point of cozying up to a cheap knock-off? Are you even a man? Don’t make me lose respect for you.” Before Leo could even sputter a protest, she pulled a business card from her purse, tucked it into the pocket of his shirt, shot me one last withering look, and swept into our private room. Leo stood there, completely dumbfounded. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I patted his shoulder. “Go get her, tiger. Be a man.” “Ava!” he groaned, his face beet red. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Come on, we should probably see what kind of damage has been done.” We walked back into the room to find the once-lively atmosphere had become dead silent. Everyone was watching Ethan, who sat in the center of the sofa like a king holding court. The tension of having me, the “impostor,” in the same room as Chloe, the supposed “original,” was thick enough to cut with a knife. Seeing that we had finally returned, Ethan coolly averted his gaze and broke the suffocating silence. “Next song is for Ava,” he announced. “Someone who talks that much must be a decent singer.” Every head in the room swiveled in my direction. I smiled sweetly. “Oh, I think Mr. Thorne should sing. My singing voice isn’t nearly as good as my speaking voice. Unlike you, sir. I hear you’re great at both.” Their heads swiveled back to Ethan. His eyes were like chips of ice. “Are you refusing a direct order from your boss?” I blinked innocently. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Thorne. It’s after hours. There’s no boss, no employee. We’re all just friends here. Calling it an order seems so… formal.” A collective, silent gasp went through our colleagues. They were now looking at me with a newfound respect, bordering on awe. She slapped him at the interview and lived. She must have something on him. Blackmail. Definitely blackmail. They weren’t entirely wrong. I did hold Ethan’s life in my hands, in a way. He saw the unspoken threat in my eyes and finally backed down. Muttering something about needing the restroom, he escaped the room. Chloe, furious on his behalf, slammed her hand on the table and shot to her feet, pointing a trembling finger at me. “Ava! Don’t you push your luck! Mr. Thorne only tolerates you because of me! If you didn’t have my face, you wouldn’t have even made it past the front door of the company! You’re a spoiled, ungrateful bitch! A cheap copy! One day, everyone will see you for what you really are, and they’ll despise you. I don’t even understand why you exist!” Leo started to stand up, to say something, but I held up a hand to stop him. I looked at Chloe, my expression calm. “The reason I exist,” I said, my voice even, “is so that without me, you wouldn’t have a stage to perform this little monkey dance on.” “What did you just call me, you fake bitch!” I didn’t bother to reply. I turned and left the room, closing the door on her shrill voice. I was done. I didn’t want to drag my history with Ethan into the light for everyone to pick apart. This was it. I should have quit the day I was hired. I went to the restroom and splashed cold water on my face. The shock of it cleared my head. I checked the time. I’d go back, say my goodbyes, and head home. But as I walked past an empty private room, a hand shot out from the darkness and yanked me inside. The door slammed shut behind me. Before a scream could escape my throat, I was staring into the stormy, furious eyes of Ethan Thorne. His face was inches from mine, his hot breath ghosting across my skin. “You have a boyfriend, Ava?” 7 The fear that had seized me a moment ago instantly ignited into rage. The scream died in my throat, replaced by a torrent of angry words. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to give me a heart attack, grabbing me like that?” He ignored my outburst, his own breath coming in ragged bursts. “Do you really have a boyfriend?” he repeated, his voice raw. I frowned, trying to push him away. “That’s none of your business, Mr. Thorne. We’re not close. Please have some self-respect.” “Enough!” he roared, his control finally snapping. “I’m done playing this game where we pretend we don’t know each other! Just answer my damn question!” He slammed his fist against the wall behind me, the impact rattling the cheap art hanging there. His eyes were rimmed with red. He raised his other hand as if to grip my shoulders, but it froze in mid-air, clenching into a tight fist before falling back to his side. The air was thick with the unfamiliar scent of tobacco. Ethan never used to smoke. Staring into those deep, tormented eyes felt like drowning. I shoved him, hard, and broke his gaze. “You’re the one who started this, remember?” I shot back. “You have no right to act outraged now.” My heart was hammering against my ribs. I had a very bad feeling about where this was going. I turned and fumbled for the doorknob. “It’s getting late. I should—” A searing heat enveloped me from behind. A hard chest pressed against my back, and a large, warm hand covered mine on the doorknob, stilling my movement. He pushed the door, which I’d managed to pull open a few inches, firmly shut. Ethan was a full head taller than me, his frame completely eclipsing mine. He leaned down, resting his forehead on my shoulder. His voice, when he spoke, was a broken whisper. “If I begged you, would you stay?” I bit down on my lip, forcing the cruelty into my voice. “No. It would only make you seem pathetic and cheap.” The man behind me went still. The words were a low blow, aimed directly at the pride I knew he valued most. The most familiar people always know exactly where to strike to cause the most pain. A sharp, needle-like ache pierced my own chest, but I forced out a dismissive laugh, a final, bitter punctuation mark on a love story that had died before it even had a chance to be rekindled. Just when I thought he would finally push me away, finally see me as the enemy I was pretending to be, an arm snaked around my waist. He pulled me flush against him, holding me with a desperate, possessive tightness, as if I were a treasure he’d lost and just found again. I could feel the frantic, thunderous beating of his heart against my spine. “Don’t go,” he pleaded, his voice muffled in my hair. “I’m begging you.” My ears were ringing. Before I could process what was happening, he spun me around to face him. His pale skin was flushed a furious red, like a boiled lobster, and his eyes were hazy with a strange, unfocused desire. “Can I hold you?” he asked. My knees felt weak. If he wanted to hold me, why was he staring at my lips? “Ethan, you need to calm down. You’re having an episode.” The raw, predatory energy rolling off him was terrifying. I started backing away, step by step, until my back hit the cold, unyielding wall. “Hold me.” His voice was a hoarse rasp, no longer a question but a command. Experience told me that in these moments, the only safe option was to comply. Arguing would only make it worse, sending him spiraling out of control. I slowly raised my arms and wrapped them around his waist. After a moment’s hesitation, I rested my head against his chest. In the dim light, I could see the goosebumps rise on his arms, the fine hairs standing on end. It was the physical manifestation of his touch starvation being soothed. Suddenly, a voice came from the hallway, just on the other side of the door. It was Leo. “That’s weird. I thought Ava came to the restroom.” “I don’t know,” another colleague replied. “I didn’t see her. Maybe Chloe’s comments really got to her and she left? I mean, what she said was pretty harsh. I’d be upset too.” “Why is Chloe so against her anyway? Is she afraid Ava will steal Mr. Thorne? But Ava has a boyfriend, so it’s not like she’s a threat. Chloe’s making a big deal out of nothing.” “Huh? Ava has a boyfriend? She told me she was single just a few days ago. Leo, you must have heard wrong.” My eyes widened in horror. Shit. I’m busted. Before I could react, a hand cupped my chin, tilting my face upwards. A fierce, scorching kiss crashed down on mine. His tongue gently parted my lips, and our breaths tangled together in a rush of heat and desperation. His other hand moved to the nape of my neck, holding me in place, his fingers threading through my hair. The faint taste of whiskey mingled with something that was just… Ethan. His hand slipped under the hem of my shirt, his palm pressing flat against the bare skin of my waist. The heat of his touch was almost enough to burn me. On the other side of the wall, Leo was shyly confessing his crush to our coworkers. Inside the room, I was being kissed by Ethan until my thoughts dissolved and my senses swam.

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My best friend and I saved a billionaire’s son. His father asked us what we wanted as a reward. My friend held up one finger. The billionaire said, “Done. A million dollars for you.” Her jaw dropped. I knew she was thinking of a single dollar for a lollipop. Then, his gaze fell on me. I slowly raised one finger and shook my head. Before he could process that, I dropped to the ground and hugged his leg. “Dad!” He gently declined. So I pivoted, let go of the father, and wrapped my arms around the son I’d just saved. “Husband!” At the time, I was seven years old. The billionaire’s son was eight. 1 At seven years old, you’re basically a public nuisance. A feral little creature running on instinct and sugar. That was me, anyway. I’d just led my best friend, Chloe, through a gap I’d painstakingly widened in the chain-link fence behind St. Jude’s Home for Children. Our mission: the creek deep in the woods, where rumor had it the crawdads were massive. We didn’t find any crawdads. Instead, tucked away in a thicket of ferns, we found a boy. Maybe eight years old, passed out cold. He was wearing a little blazer, the kind of thing you see in magazines, fancier than anything the boys at the home owned. Now, though, it was smeared with mud and blood. Chloe and I put our shoulders into it, grunting and straining, but we couldn’t move him an inch. “Maya, is he… is he dead?” Chloe’s voice was a high-pitched wobble, tears already welling up. My name is Maya. The director at St. Jude’s, Mrs. Gable, gave it to me. She said it meant I was destined for great things. I hoped “great things” meant “lots of money.” I knelt down, mimicking a scene from one of the cheesy dramas our housekeeper, Maria, was always watching. I put my fingers under his nose. “Still breathing,” I announced. I stood, scanned our surroundings, and yanked a handful of broad-leafed weeds from the ground. I found a flat rock and smashed them into a green, pulpy mess, then slapped the whole concoction onto the gash on his forehead. “Master healer,” I said with a deadpan expression, meeting Chloe’s wide, worshipping eyes. I had no idea what those weeds were or what they did. All I knew was that in the shows, whenever the hero fell off a cliff, this is how they saved themselves. “You stay here with him. I’ll go get help.” I gave Chloe her orders, then tugged at my own faded t-shirt. I wished I had a flowing cape. If I had a cape, I’d look exactly like a superheroine, sprinting off to save the day. My superhero moment was unceremoniously crushed by Mrs. Gable’s hand connecting with the back of my head. I spent the whole way back to the woods sniffling, tears tracking paths through the dirt on my cheeks as I led the way. By the time we got there, Chloe, that little glutton, was long gone—probably lured away by the thought of dinner. The boy was still lying there alone, the poultice I’d made for him dried into a sad, flaky cracker on his forehead. Mrs. Gable hadn’t actually believed me. The color drained from her face when she saw him. She fumbled for her phone, calling 911, her voice trembling. The world dissolved into a dizzying symphony of sirens. The boy was lifted onto a stretcher and carried away. I was hauled to the local police station to give a statement. I’m loyal. I didn’t rat Chloe out. But she had no such qualms. The second she saw Mrs. Gable, she burst into tears and pointed a trembling finger at me. She told them how I’d dragged her through the fence, how it was my idea to hunt for crawdads, how I’d mashed up weird plants and put them on the boy. It had nothing to do with her. I lunged for her, my fingers curled into claws, but Mrs. Gable caught me by the scruff of my neck. When we got back to St. Jude’s, I found the gap in the fence sealed with a fresh patch of concrete. My adventures were now confined to the dusty yard. I was so mad at Chloe that I gave her the silent treatment for a whole week. She was too scared to even come near me. Then, one afternoon, a car with a tiny, gleaming silver angel on the hood pulled up to our gate. A Rolls-Royce. A man stepped out. The fabric of his suit shimmered, looking so expensive it probably cost more than our entire building. He radiated an aura of power, exactly like the billionaires in Maria’s dramas who were always saying things like, “Here’s a hundred million. Get out of my sight.” Trailing behind him was the boy. He looked nothing like the snot-nosed kids I usually fought with in the yard. His clothes were immaculate, his teeth were perfectly white and straight, and there wasn’t a single runny nose in sight. It was him. The boy from the woods. I was lazily swinging, hanging upside down, when Mrs. Gable marched them right over to me. “Maya, get down from there this instant!” Her voice was tight. I could see the impulse to grab me flicker in her eyes, but with important guests present, she reined it in. I saw my opening. No discipline today? My courage swelled. I scrambled upright on the wobbly swing seat, struck a flamingo-like pose on one leg, and, for dramatic effect, let go with one hand. That was the last straw. My death-defying act finally broke her. Distinguished guests or not, she yanked me down and gave me the scolding of a lifetime right there in the yard. I was still sniffling, hiccupping with tears, when she finally positioned me in front of them. “I am so sorry,” Mrs. Gable said, her cheeks flushed. “She’s… spirited.” The rich man just chuckled. “Don’t apologize. If it weren’t for her being so spirited, my son, Liam, might not have been found. A little wildness is a good thing.” Mrs. Gable managed a tight smile. “Well, your son is very lucky. Those woods are treacherous; even locals avoid them. Maya here…” Her hand twitched again as she pulled me closer, visibly fighting the urge to give me another shake. “Which is why we are so grateful,” the man continued. “In addition to the five-hundred-thousand-dollar donation we’re making to the home, we’d like to offer the children a personal reward. Something just for them.” Chloe must have heard the commotion because she suddenly appeared at my side. The man learned that she had been there too, and he smiled kindly at her. “Is there anything you’d like, sweetie?” She shyly held up one finger. The man sighed in relief. “Of course. One million dollars is yours.” Chloe’s jaw dropped. Her little brain was probably trying to calculate how many lollipops a million dollars could buy. A million dollars didn’t mean much to me either, but I knew it was a hell of a lot more than the single dollar she’d been about to ask for. Finally, the man’s gaze fell on me. I slowly raised one finger, then gave it a little wag, shaking my head. His brow furrowed slightly. As he was trying to calculate what my finger-wagging math might mean, I dropped to the ground, wrapped my arms around his leg, and shouted with all the force my little lungs could muster. “Dad!” The sound was sharp and clear, vibrating through the still afternoon air. The man froze, staring down at me. For the first time, the perfectly managed expression of a corporate titan cracked, revealing pure, unadulterated shock. Mrs. Gable squeezed the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes as if praying for strength. Behind his father, the boy—Liam—let out a quiet snort of laughter. The man recovered, offering a strained smile as he gently tried to pry me off. “I’m sorry, little one, but how about… how about five million dollars instead?” I slowly unwrapped my arms. Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, I launched myself sideways and latched onto his son. “Husband!” The world went silent. I was seven. Liam Sterling, the rich man’s son, was eight. His mouth hung open, revealing those perfect teeth. A deep blush crept up his neck, flooding his handsome face. He instinctively tried to back away, but I held on tight. I was strong and wiry, and he lost his balance, tumbling backward onto the grass with me still attached. The next thing I knew, I was being lifted into the air by my collar. This time, Mrs. Gable truly lost it. As she disciplined me, she ranted, “I told you to stop watching those ridiculous shows with Maria! You’re seven years old! What is wrong with you? Maria?! Where is Maria!” Maria did not appear. The ordeal only ended when the rich boy himself, Liam, tugged on his father’s sleeve and mumbled something. I was finally released. “Ma’am, perhaps there’s another solution,” Mr. Sterling said after a long pause. “This girl… I’d like to take her in. I’ll raise her, see to her education, all the way through college. What do you think?” I don’t know what he and Mrs. Gable discussed after that. My backside was stinging so badly that the words just floated over my head. All I know is that Mrs. Gable insisted she “couldn’t show favoritism,” and so, when the Rolls-Royce with the little silver angel pulled away, both Chloe and I were in the back seat. 2 We moved into the Sterling mansion. The place was like a palace, a sprawling estate worth millions, and our host, Mr. Sterling, was a widower whose son was named Liam. Given that Liam seemed to get kidnapped every other Tuesday, his father quietly enrolled him in a new, exclusive private school. I had the honor of attending with him. So did Chloe. We were given princess bedrooms with beds so soft you’d sink into them. A private chef cooked us meals that were a hundred times better than Maria’s. We wore beautiful new dresses every single day. The only strange part was the young master of the house, Liam. He was always quiet and gloomy, and he hardly ever smiled. I didn’t know the full extent of Mr. Sterling’s wealth, but I knew this: where kidnappers used to only target Liam, I was now the buy-one-get-one-free bonus prize. The moment I was bundled onto the helicopter, I ignored the ropes binding my wrists and pressed my face against the window, screaming with delight. “Liam! Look! The ocean is so beautiful! Wow! We’re so high up! Liam, I forgot to tell you something important. I’m actually a warrior princess from another dimension, here on a secret mission—” My monologue was cut short when one of the exasperated kidnappers slapped a piece of duct tape over my mouth. Silence at last. They landed on a desolate island and threw Liam and me into a small wooden shack. I saw the glint of a gun, black and terrifying. A loud bang echoed through the trees, and I swear it shook the birds right out of their nests. We were left in there for a day and a night, starving. Outside, the kidnappers were constantly on the phone, cursing and shouting about how “that bastard Sterling double-crossed me.” While they were distracted, I took the bobby pin from my hair and started scraping at the rusty old lock on the door. It was a survival skill I’d taught myself back at St. Jude’s whenever I got locked in the time-out closet. As their angry shouts grew louder, I finally heard a click. The lock gave way. I grabbed Liam’s hand and pulled him out into the twilight. We ran. I relied on pure, wild instinct, leading him through the dense woods until we found a hidden cave, its entrance veiled by a curtain of thick vines. It probably belonged to some wild animal, but right now, we didn’t have a choice. Night had fallen completely, and Liam was shivering, his lips turning a faint shade of blue. I remembered what they did in Maria’s dramas. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tight against me. My own heart was pounding. “Don’t you dare die,” I whispered fiercely. “If you die, what am I supposed to do?” “You’re too young for this. You have to fight,” I went on, my voice rising with dramatic urgency. “Think about it! You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You have more money than you could ever spend! If you die, some other guy is gonna sleep with your wife and boss around your kids…” He managed a weak cough, the corner of his bloodless lips twitching. “Just how many of those toxic dramas… has Maria made you watch?” I thought about it seriously. “She watches them every day. When she’s cooking, she just listens to the audio. In her free time, she’s always scrolling. The longest one had three hundred episodes. She had to watch hundreds of ads just to unlock them all.” His eyes started to flutter shut again. Panic seized me. I took a deep breath and, using every ounce of strength in my body, I roared into the darkness. “I WILL NOT GO QUIETLY INTO THE NIGHT! WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE, YOU WILL ALL PAY!” The body in my arms jolted, and his eyes snapped open. It worked. When Mr. Sterling and his search party finally found us, we were huddled together, both having passed out from exhaustion and cold. I have a feeling if they’d arrived just a little later, I might have actually met that warrior princess from another dimension. Back home, Mr. Sterling kept dabbing at his eyes, his voice thick with emotion as he called my name over and over. “Maya… oh, Maya.” I peered up at him through my eyelashes and whispered weakly. “Dad!” Mr. Sterling’s expression froze for a second, but then he looked at my pale, small face, and all the resistance melted away. He sighed, and this time, he whispered it back. “Okay.” And just like that, the billionaire became my dad. Well, sort of. I called him “Dad” so relentlessly that he finally gave in. He said I could call him my godfather, and we’d make it official. Godfather, real father, what was the difference? I had achieved my ultimate drama-inspired goal: I had a rich dad. I wished Maria was there to see it. She used to say I was so wild because I didn’t have a father. Well, now I had one, and he was exactly the kind of billionaire she obsessed over. Chloe stood nearby, her eyes filled with envy. I shot her a look, trying to encourage her with my eyes. She wanted to try it too, but one glance at Mr. Sterling’s stern, unsmiling face and she lost her nerve. Mr. Sterling, for his part, showed no interest in collecting a second goddaughter. So that was that. After the kidnapping, I started having nightmares. For the first time, I was scared to sleep alone. But Chloe was still angry that she hadn’t been made a goddaughter, too. She ignored me, preferring to cuddle a fancy porcelain doll instead of letting me sleep in her room. So, late at night, after the house was quiet, I would tiptoe down the hall to Liam’s room. “You should have just said you were scared to sleep alone,” I’d whisper, climbing into his bed. “It’s okay, I’m here now.” He would patiently explain that he was perfectly fine sleeping by himself, that he was used to it, but I’d already be burrowed under his covers. Eventually, he’d give up, sighing in resignation as my soft snores filled the room. I had sinus issues that made me snore. It was quiet, but the other kids at the home used to make fun of me for it. I never believed them, because I could never hear it myself. The next morning, Liam would emerge from his room with dark circles under his eyes. I’d feel a small pang of guilt, but it always vanished by the time darkness fell again. Chloe started locking her door, so my only option was Liam. Thankfully, no matter how annoyed he seemed, he never locked his. I always won. I was a chaotic sleeper. I’d toss, turn, sprawl, and kick. He, on the other hand, slept like a soldier at attention, perfectly still. He’d wake up in the exact same position he’d fallen asleep in. I, however, would wake up horizontally, diagonally, or with my head at the foot of the bed. Our positions were a mystery every morning. Years flew by. When we got older, Liam finally learned to lock his door. But he found a new routine. Before he went to sleep, he’d FaceTime me, promising he’d hang up after I fell asleep. In the dark of my room, I’d clutch my phone and whisper. “Liam?” “Go to sleep,” his voice would crackle back, impatient. Five minutes later. “Liam.” “Maya, if you don’t go to sleep, I’m hanging up.” Ten minutes later, the faint sound of my snoring would travel through the speaker. He never hung up. In the morning, I’d see the call log: seven hours and counting. Life at the Sterling house was carefree. If I was home, I’d drag Liam out of his art studio to play in the yard with me. Chloe never joined. She said he was no fun, always wearing a “frosty little face like an ice cube,” and that he was terrible at every game. “Okay, we’re playing house! You’re the husband, I’m the mom, and Chloe, you can be the dad!” That particular game did not get off the ground. The other two participants just stared at me like I was an idiot and flatly refused. Time kept slipping by. The fall after we graduated high school, Liam left for one of the best universities in the country. Chloe and I were left behind, facing the frantic, final sprint of our senior year. “I don’t have high expectations for you, sweetie,” my godfather told me over dinner, his tone serious. “It doesn’t matter what your grades are. When you graduate, there’s a job waiting for you at my company. I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” I shoveled rice into my mouth. “Dad, I don’t want the corporate 9-to-9 grind. Can’t you just find me a decent trust fund kid from your circle? I think I’d make a great trophy wife.” A sharp flick hit my forehead. Mr. Sterling was looking at me with the same look of profound disappointment Mrs. Gable used to give me. “My own father beat me with a coat hanger when I was a boy. I thought, for sure, my son would be a little hellion like me. I was almost looking forward to it. But no, my son is a perfect angel, and my daughter turns out to be a wild monkey! Get out of here. And if you bomb your finals, you can forget about that condo I promised you.” A lightning bolt of pure horror shot through me. The condo! My condo was on the line! Fuming, I snatched the fresh cup of coffee his assistant had just brought in and chugged the entire thing, not leaving him a single drop. “Mr. Sterling…” the poor assistant stammered, looking heartbroken. My godfather rubbed his temples. “Does saying my name magically refill the cup? Go on, try calling me Mr. Sterling too.” The miserable assistant and I left his office at the same time. I trudged back to school, miserable myself. I should have just agreed. Who wasn’t a corporate drone? Mr. Sterling worked harder than anyone, up before the sun and in bed long after midnight. It was way worse than 9-to-9. Ugh. “Liam? Could you help me with my calculus?” I don’t know when it started, but even Chloe had started calling him by his first name, her voice sweet as sugar. I was in the stairwell at school, drinking a juice box, when I overheard her on the phone with him. I couldn’t hear his replies, but I saw the bright, triumphant smile on her face when she hung up. She saw me on her way down the stairs. I started to wave, but she just gave me a quick glance out of the corner of her eye, flipped her hair, and walked right past me. Things had gotten weird in high school. Chloe and I stopped being roommates; she got her own room. Sometimes she’d make little digs at me in private, but in front of my godfather or Liam, she was the picture of gentle, quiet grace. If I ever called her on it, her face would instantly harden, her eyes welling with tears. “You’re his goddaughter now, Maya. I’m just a guest here, an outsider. I have to walk on eggshells every single day. What more do you want from me? Are you going to bully me too, just like everyone else?” Before I could even argue, she’d slam her door in my face. She had her own friends now, and she’d started wearing makeup behind my godfather’s back. With me, she grew more and more distant. With Liam, however, she was getting closer and closer. The boy she used to call an “ice cube” was still an ice cube, but now she was the one constantly orbiting him, her smile bright and persistent. And to be fair, Liam had grown up to be ridiculously handsome. He had the kind of proportions you only see in comics, and his hands, long-fingered and elegant, were beautiful. His hobby, of all things, was painting. I could watch those hands move a brush across a canvas for hours. I wasn’t the only one. The girls at our school were obsessed with him. He had the looks, the talent, the money, the grades, and that aloof, sophisticated personality. He was a romance novel hero come to life. Girls had been confessing their love to him since freshman year. It was no exaggeration to say he could get asked for his number just walking the dog. But the guy was an impenetrable fortress of ice, completely clueless when it came to romance. “Oh, my brother… you know how he is.” The smarter girls learned to try and get to him through me. I’d squint my eyes mysteriously at some hopeful heiress who’d just slipped me a hundred-dollar bill. “Okay, look,” I’d whisper, leaning in conspiratorially. “He’s into the cutesy, anime-type girls. You know, chibi style? That’s all I can give you. You have to figure out the rest. If he finds out I told you, I’m dead…” It was top-secret intel I’d gathered by risking my life to peek at his sketchbook. There wasn’t a single realistic portrait of a beautiful woman in it. They were all these adorable, big-headed cartoon characters, cute but with a hint of mischief. I didn’t dare say more, afraid the rumor would get twisted. After all, who would believe that the cool, untouchable god of our school secretly liked to draw cute, bubbly cartoons? The thought of my condo, so close and yet so far, spurred me into action. I was going to get serious. I tied my hair back into a messy bun and marched over to the desk of my class vice president, Alex. “Alex, can you tutor me? I’ll pay you. No freebies.” I pulled a crumpled wad of cash from my pocket and slapped it on his desk. He stopped fiddling with his pen, pushed his glasses up his nose, and gave a single, cool nod. “Okay.” And so my life became a frantic blur of studying. I’d see messages from Liam pop up on my phone late at night, but I was too tired to reply. Then I’d be rushing out the door in the morning and forget all about them. This happened several times. One day, I was at a coffee shop owned by Alex’s mom, deep in a tutoring session. He spoke softly, so I had to lean in close to hear his explanation of a complex formula. I was concentrating so hard that when I finally looked up, I was startled to see Liam standing right in front of our table. His face was a mask of ice. And next to him, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips, was Chloe. She was clutching a stack of books to her chest, looking like an innocent, studious bystander. “Maya, there you are,” Chloe said, her voice just loud enough for the few other patrons in the cafe to turn and look. “Liam was texting you, but you weren’t answering. We were so worried. We thought something might have happened to you.” Her words were dripping with concern, but the smug satisfaction in her eyes was impossible to miss. Before I could say a word, Liam strode forward. He didn’t even glance at Alex. His gaze was locked on me, his voice colder than a Siberian winter. “We’re going home.”

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1 In my second life, I didn’t go to the vet with my best friend. Instead, I stayed up all night, chugged two bottles of a potent herbal liqueur known for its high alcohol content, and got on the highway. When the flashing lights pulled me over, I blew hard into the breathalyzer until it screamed. Then, smiling, I climbed into the back of the police cruiser. In my past life, my best friend, Serena, had called me, frantic. Her cat was sick, and she begged me to drive her to the emergency vet. But on the way, her normally placid cat had suddenly launched itself at my face, a feral blur of claws and teeth. I lost control of the car and slammed into a massive Tibetan Mastiff. The dog’s owner demanded a million dollars in compensation. My parents bankrupted themselves trying to save me, selling their home and cashing out their retirement. My fiancé’s reputation was dragged through the mud alongside mine. In the end, after I had nothing left, I was cornered by a mob of animal rights vigilantes, beaten to death, and my body left in a ditch. This time would be different. 2 “Your blood alcohol is over the limit. Ma’am, please step out of the vehicle immediately.” The officer’s voice was firm as he stared at the flashing breathalyzer in his hand. The moment I stepped onto the pavement, my phone buzzed. A text from Serena. “Aria, my poor kitty has diarrhea, he’s so weak. Can you please, please drive us to the vet?” The exact same message as before. The words hit me like a physical blow. A cold dread washed over me, and my body began to tremble. “Scared now, are we? Should have thought of that before you started drinking.” The officer clapped a hand on my shoulder. I snapped out of my trance and beamed at him, practically skipping towards the cruiser. “Let’s go, officer! Take me away!” “Alright, at least you’re cooperating.” He muttered under his breath, “What’s with the smile? This is a police station, not a party.” A couple of other drunk guys in the back of the car stared at me like I had two heads. At the station, a nurse prepared to draw my blood for a more accurate test. I held out my arm, a look of triumph on my face. The nurse frowned, her grip tightening on the needle. “Aria, are you okay?” “Honey, the police said you were driving under the influence. What on earth is going on?” The door to the small medical room burst open. My parents and my fiancé, Leo, rushed in, their faces etched with worry. “Hey, we’re in the middle of a procedure, you can’t just come in here!” the nurse snapped. “My fiancée would never drink and drive,” Leo insisted, his voice tight with anger. “There must be a mistake!” My parents just looked at me, their eyes filled with a familiar, heart-wrenching concern. Seeing them all there, ready to defend me, made my eyes burn. It was okay. Everything was going to be okay this time. In this life, my parents wouldn’t lose everything for me. My fiancé wouldn’t have his career destroyed because of me. “We’ll know if there was a mistake when the results come back. Now please, wait outside!” An officer stepped in. He squinted at my face under the harsh fluorescent lights, then sniffed the air around me. “You haven’t been drinking, have you?” he asked, his voice low. A flicker of panic shot through me, but I crushed it down. I put on my best indignant act. “Of course not! I have no idea why that machine went off. It’s probably broken, right?” The officer gave a slightly embarrassed nod and walked off to check on the others. I glanced at my phone. Another message from Serena. “Did you fall asleep? Why aren’t you answering? I booked the vet appointment. See you at nine a.m. sharp.” 3 In my last life, I had agreed. I drove her and her cat to the vet myself. On the road, that “sick,” gentle little cat had exploded from her lap and clawed at my face. I’d flailed, trying to push it off, and the car had swerved, hitting the Tibetan Mastiff that had darted out from the side of the road. The dog was thrown fifteen feet, landing in a bloody heap. It was gone in seconds. The owner went berserk. He dragged me from my car and beat me right there on the pavement next to his dog’s body. “My Apollo was a prize-winner from Sotheby’s! I paid over a million dollars for him, and you killed him! Are you blind?!” he screamed, his face purple with rage. “I don’t care what happens, you will pay me back every single cent!” Bystanders gathered, but no one intervened. They just pointed and whispered. “The road is wide open. How do you even manage to hit a dog? She must have done it on purpose.” “Probably just got dumped and decided to take it out on the world.” I tried to explain about the cat, that it startled me, that it was an accident. But Serena, stroking the creature in her arms, immediately shot me down. “What are you talking about? You swerved on purpose. Don’t you dare blame my poor, sick cat for your recklessness!” There were no security cameras on that stretch of road. With Serena and the dog owner both pointing the finger at me, I was doomed. My family and Leo were ruined along with me. And even after we’d scraped together the money, even after the transfer went through, I was ambushed by those vigilantes. The blood and the pain of my last life were a scar on my soul. But this time, I had an airtight alibi. I was at a police station, surrounded by cops, cameras, and medical staff. No one could frame me now. After the blood test, I spent the night in a holding cell. It was cold and damp, but I felt a warmth spreading through my chest. The next morning, an officer came to my cell with a report. “Your blood alcohol content was below the legal limit. You’re free to go.” I checked my phone. It was already noon. I had successfully missed the 9 a.m. appointment from hell. Just to be safe, I put on a sheepish face and told the officer my car was out of gas, begging for a ride home. The moment I hopped off the back of his motorcycle, I saw it: a swarm of police cars and officers in front of my apartment building. Suddenly, Serena burst out of the crowd, her eyes red-rimmed. She grabbed my hand. “Aria! I know how much you love animals! Why would you deliberately run over that man’s dog this morning?” My eyes went wide. “What?” The officer beside me looked just as confused. I’d been at the station since last night. How could she still be trying to pin this on me? I yanked my hand away. “I was at the police station all night, being held on suspicion of a DUI—” “So you were drinking!” Serena cut me off, her voice rising dramatically. “No wonder you crashed, even with your skills! But Aria, if you knew you were drinking, why did you still insist on driving me? Don’t you know that causing an accident while drunk is an even worse crime?” A crowd of onlookers pressed in, their murmurs turning hostile at Serena’s words. Some were holding their own pets, and the looks they gave me were filled with pure fury. Before I knew it, I felt shoves and punches from the crowd. Muddy footprints appeared on the back of my shirt. The officers nearby saw the commotion and rushed over to break it up. Finally able to breathe, I screamed at Serena, “I wasn’t drinking, I didn’t drive anywhere, and I sure as hell didn’t kill anyone’s dog! Stop spreading lies! If you have proof, then show it!” A flash of venom crossed Serena’s face before she masked it with performative grief, shouting to the crowd, “Officers, please! My friend is clearly not in her right mind! She was drunk, she didn’t kill the dog on purpose! Can’t you talk to the owner? Maybe he’ll settle for nine hundred thousand instead of a full million?” She grabbed my arm again, trying to drag me toward a police car. I struggled, her nails digging into my skin. Just then, the officer who drove me home stepped in, his hand clamping down on Serena’s wrist like a vice. “This woman has been at the police station with me since last night. I just dropped her off.” He stared Serena down. “You claim she killed a dog. Where is your evidence?” 4 At the officer’s challenge, Serena froze. She finally let go of my arm, but her arrogance remained. “Who are you? I’m assisting the police with their investigation. Uninvolved parties should stay out of it.” “I’m a police officer.” He flashed his badge. “Ma’am,” he said, his voice hard as steel, “I don’t know why you’re so agitated. But I suggest you explain why you’re accusing someone who has a perfect alibi.” Panic flickered in Serena’s eyes. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Just then, a man pushed his way out of the crowd. The dog owner. He pointed a trembling finger at my face. “I can prove it! She’s the one who killed my Apollo!” Seeing the man who had helped ruin my life, I felt a surge of cold fury. In my past life, yes, I had killed his dog. It was an accident, but I accepted the blame. But this life? I hadn’t been anywhere near a car. We had never even met. On what grounds was he so certain it was me? I glared at him. “Sir, you can’t just throw accusations around. We are complete strangers. Why are you trying to frame me?” “I have a video from the traffic department! It’s all the proof I need!” he roared, pulling out his phone. The crowd surged forward to see. On the screen, a woman in a white dress, baseball cap, and sunglasses slammed a car into a Tibetan Mastiff. The car’s make, model, and even the license plate were identical to mine. The woman’s face was obscured, but her build was eerily similar to mine. After the crash, she got out, glanced at the dog, then jumped back in the car and sped away. 5 A wave of shocked gasps went through the crowd. I was just as stunned as they were. I hadn’t driven anywhere near that vet clinic. How could this video exist? Angry shouts erupted. “That’s her! It has to be!” “You can’t see her face, but the clothes, the car… it’s a perfect match.” “Tibetan Mastiffs are such intelligent dogs. That woman is a monster!” The accusations rained down on me. Serena seized the moment, her voice dripping with venomous pity. “Aria, I know you have a habit of being cruel to small animals, but this is too much! And to think you’d bribe a police officer to lie for you… you’ve really gone too far!” Her words whipped the crowd into a frenzy. Rotten eggs and wilted vegetables started flying through the air, splattering against my clothes and hair. The officer who brought me home roared, “Everybody calm down! I have proof that this woman is innocent!” He retrieved his body camera from his motorcycle. “She was under constant surveillance from the moment she left the station this morning. This is her alibi.” Two videos, two completely different stories. Now everyone was confused. The crowd, the other officers, even the dog owner. One of the cops got on his radio, calling the station to verify my whereabouts over the last twenty-four hours. The dog owner was muttering to himself, “I couldn’t have been mistaken…” Serena was starting to look genuinely panicked, her mask of concern finally dropping. I met her glare with a cold smile. “Once the police confirm my alibi, this will all be over. You must be so disappointed.” Her tense face suddenly relaxed into a sickeningly sweet smile. “What are you talking about? We’re best friends. I couldn’t be happier that you’re innocent.” I turned away from her in disgust. The crowd was still agitated, their eyes burning with suspicion. Just then, another car pulled up. The officer who’d been on the radio had called for backup. The nurse from the station stepped out. She looked me over carefully and nodded. “That’s right. This woman was at the station all night. She didn’t leave until noon today. I even have her official blood test results.” She held up the stamped document. A new wave of confusion washed over the crowd. “Wait a minute. The cop and the nurse both say she wasn’t there. But what about the video the dog owner showed us? That was clearly her car, and it looked just like her!” “Either the video is fake, or the cops are lying for her. There’s no other explanation.” Serena shrieked, pointing a finger at me. “I get it now! You bribed them! You paid off the cop and the nurse to create a fake alibi for you!” She grabbed my arm again, tears streaming down her face. “Aria, how many times have I told you to be an honest person? I can’t believe you’d not only kill a dog but also bribe public officials to cover it up! You’re hopeless!” Her performance was convincing. The crowd’s anger turned back on me, hotter than before. “Her own best friend is saying it! It must be true!” “You monster! You bribed them!” “Killer! You’re the killer!” A man holding a Border Collie suddenly let go of the leash. The dog barked ferociously and lunged at me. I tried to dodge, but its teeth sank into my calf, a searing pain shooting up my leg. I cried out and instinctively kicked the dog away. It yelped and scrambled back to its owner, who scooped it up protectively. Serena pounced. “You see? Look how cruel she is! She even attacks a sweet, innocent Border Collie! And you still expect us to believe you didn’t kill that Mastiff on purpose? Not even a ghost would believe you!” Her eyes gleamed with a triumphant, “you’re finished” look. She held my arm in a death grip. Just then, the officer and the nurse finally pushed their way through the mob. “Ma’am,” the officer said, his voice booming with authority, “I had never met this woman before last night. There was no bribery. I demand you stop slandering a police officer, or you will face legal consequences.” Serena went pale and her hand immediately fell away from my arm. Finally, I could breathe. The police formed a protective circle around me. But before they could disperse the crowd, a new commotion erupted from the edge of the street. The dog owner was grabbing a young woman who had just been watching from the sidelines. “There you are!” he bellowed. “You killed my Apollo, and now you’re trying to sneak away!”

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“I was a princess in a tower of my own making. Then they found the real one. When the actual Ainsworth heiress came home, I became the family’s dirty little secret: the placeholder daughter. To make things less excruciatingly awkward for everyone, I volunteered to move out of the Greenwich mansion and into a campus dorm. I also broke off my engagement. “You’re breaking up with me again?” Carter Hayes had asked, his voice a low drawl over the phone. “This time it’s real, Carter.” “Oh?” A soft chuckle, drenched in the kind of confidence that came from a lifetime of never being told no. “I don’t accept.” And so began Carter’s grand, ridiculously public campaign to win me back. It was a blitzkrieg of wealth and romance. Cartier jewels arrived at my dorm’s mailroom like Amazon packages. A sea of imported roses flooded the main campus quad, and a fireworks display, extravagant enough for New Year’s Eve, lit up the entire city skyline one Tuesday night. Drones danced in the dark, forming my name in glittering lights while the whole student body watched from below, gasping and filming on their phones. But I refused to see him. I held my ground until my roommate, Ashley, cornered me between my desk and the door, her expression a mask of pure annoyance. “Penelope, can you please stop stringing Carter Hayes along?” she demanded. “You two are broken up. So, would you mind if I went after him?” In that exact moment, the world tilted. Strange, translucent lines of text flickered into existence in my vision, hovering in the air like comments on a livestream. 【YES! This is the energy! Our girl is so freaking bold!】 【LMAO, watch the ice queen’s face crack. She turns down his proposals just to play games, and now she’s about to lose him for real. Serves her right.】 【Penelope is the worst kind of user. She says they’re broken up but loves the attention of him begging. Total parasite.】 【I’m so done. My heart breaks for Carter!】 1 The sudden appearance of the comments left me utterly frozen. “What’s with that look?” Ashley scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t act like I’m stealing your boyfriend. You’re exes, Penelope. Let him go. You don’t own him.” 【Seriously. He’s an ex. She has no claim on him anymore.】 【This is why I love Ashley. She’s all action, no games. She sees what she wants and goes for it.】 【Does Penelope really think that just because they dated, Carter has to stay single forever? Get over yourself.】 【Typical. Women who are like dogs with a bone. They don’t want the toy, but they’ll be damned if another dog plays with it.】 【Don’t you worry, babies. Carter will realize soon enough that Ashley is his true soulmate!】 Ashley arched an eyebrow, her tone deceptively casual. “Look, I’m trying to do this the right way. So I’m asking you one last time: you and Carter are over. Correct?” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. The truth was, I had no idea what we were. A week ago, we were the couple everyone envied. Now, I was the imposter daughter, and the real heiress, Claire Ainsworth, was back. Claire claimed I had stolen her life. She wanted me out of the family home as repayment for the twenty years of charity they’d shown me. The sight of me sent her into fits of tears so violent she’d once fainted and ended up in the hospital. My parents—our parents?—were terrified, and the house had become a war zone. I was the bomb that had detonated their lives. I didn’t want to make it harder for anyone. So I packed my bags, moved into this tiny dorm room, and ripped my own heart out by telling Carter it was over. But Carter refused to let go. He was pursuing me with the kind of flagrant, over-the-top gestures that made it impossible to ignore him. To say I wasn’t tempted, that my resolve didn’t waver, would be a lie. But a cold, hard truth kept pulling me back: the engagement was to the Ainsworth heiress. That wasn’t me. I was a fraud. I had to let him go. I just never imagined that Ashley, of all people, would throw herself into this tangled mess. I could only manage a bitter, ironic smile. That man was walking, talking pheromones. 2 “That’s between Carter and me.” It was a private matter, and the last thing I wanted was to dissect it with her. Ashley, however, was not satisfied. “God, can you stop being so melodramatic? You’ve been ‘breaking up’ for a week. Does that sound normal to you? It sounds like you never meant to break up at all.” Suddenly, her eyes widened as if she’d discovered a brilliant, hidden truth. “Oh my god. You really are stringing him along, aren’t you?” She let out a theatrical gasp. “Everyone was saying it, and I actually defended you. I can’t believe I was so stupid. You’ve really disappointed me, Penelope.” Her eyes narrowed, raking over me with a newfound contempt. “Playing the victim while secretly pulling the strings. You’re more calculating than I thought, Penelope.” The comments exploded in a torrent of vitriol. 【No doubt about it. She’s keeping him on the back burner. Classic move.】 【Ashley has her number. She saw right through the fake princess act.】 【Penelope is a vanity monster. Carter showering her with expensive gifts makes her look good. Everyone on campus envies her, thinking she’s got it made—even without the Ainsworth name, she’s still got the Hayes fortune to fall back on.】 【You guys don’t get it. This is all for Claire’s benefit. The more Carter obsesses over her, the more valuable she looks. It’s a slap in the face to the real heiress and makes the Ainsworths think twice about cutting her off completely. She’s a stone-cold bitch!】 Just then, my phone buzzed. An unknown number. I knew it was him. After I broke up with him, I had blocked him everywhere. For the past week, he had called me from a new number every single day with terrifying patience. I was about to decline the call when Ashley’s hand shot out, snatching the phone from my grasp. She answered it and put it on speaker. Carter’s deep, magnetic voice filled the small room. “Well, well. Finally decided to pick up for me, Princess?” His tone was laced with a lazy, confident smile. “I’m downstairs.” As if on cue, a wave of excited screams erupted from the courtyard below. I glanced out the window. A sleek, black Bentley was parked at the curb, its trunk wide open, revealing an opulent bed of perfect, crimson roses. Nestled in the center of the flowers was a velvet box, open to display a breathtaking diamond necklace that glittered under the campus lights. Carter himself, dressed in a tailored khaki trench coat, leaned casually against the car door, his phone to his ear. His face was so devastatingly handsome it felt like a crime. Ashley’s cheeks flushed a bright pink, and her voice suddenly turned breathy and sweet. “Carter? It’s me.” 3 There was a distinct pause on the other end of the line. “Who is this? Why do you have Penelope’s phone?” “It’s Ashley. Penelope’s roommate? We met at her birthday party last year.” Carter’s voice immediately cooled. “And?” “And if I hadn’t answered, Penelope was about to hang up on you.” “What is your point?” he asked, his tone clipped. “My point is, she’s not going to get back with you. You should stop wasting your time. You two just aren’t right for each other.” A dry, humorless laugh echoed from the phone. “…And I should be wasting my time on you instead?” Ashley’s smile was audacious, predatory. “You could. I’d let you.” 【OH MY GOD, I SHIP IT! A confident queen who knows what she wants!】 【Yesss, Ashley wants! Ashley gets!】 【If I were Carter, I’d fall for a girl like that in a heartbeat. That kind of confidence is magnetic.】 The silence on Carter’s end stretched on. It was so long I thought he’d hung up. So long that the triumphant smirk on Ashley’s face began to falter. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice tinged with a new, intriguing amusement. “Oh?” he said slowly. “Interesting.” Ashley’s eyes lit up, shining like she’d just been handed a galaxy of stars. 【A-H-H-H! HE SAID INTERESTING! HE’S INTO HER!】 【I knew it! Who could possibly resist our brave, straightforward queen?】 【The ice princess must be absolutely losing her mind right now. Hahaha, her little games backfired spectacularly!】 She wasn’t wrong. I was losing my mind. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible fist, a dull, crushing ache that stole my breath. “So… Carter, should I come down?” Ashley asked, her voice trembling with barely concealed excitement. “Yeah,” he replied, his tone crisp and decisive. Ashley ended the call and flashed me a victorious smile, dangling my phone like a trophy. “See, Penelope? This is what men want. That whole ‘playing hard to get’ thing is so last century.” With that, she spun around and began frantically tearing through her closet. “Which one? Is the V-neck too much? No, no, this little white dress. It’s more… innocent.” She shimmied into the dress and quickly applied a full face of makeup with practiced hands. Just before leaving, she paused in front of me and did a little twirl. “What do you think? Do I look good?” I said nothing. She didn’t care. A dismissive smirk played on her lips. “You had your chance, Penelope. Don’t blame me for taking it.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “From now on, Carter is mine.” Then, she clicked out of the room on her heels, a proud peacock off to claim her prize. The comments resumed their relentless assault. 【Go get your man, Ashley!】 【I bet Penelope looks like she just swallowed a gallon of sour milk. LOL.】 【She has no one to blame but herself. Too late for regrets now!】 I walked slowly to the balcony. Below, Ashley had already reached Carter’s car. She was smiling, her face tilted up as she spoke to him animatedly. Carter was looking down at her, a faint smile on his lips, his gaze focused and intent. It was a look I’d never seen from him before. A gentle look. He reached into the trunk, pulled out a single rose, and handed it to her. Ashley took it, her delight obvious. Then, she rose onto her tiptoes and planted a quick, bold kiss on his cheek. The screams from the onlookers intensified. And Carter… he didn’t pull away. He didn’t even flinch. He simply raised a hand and playfully ruffled her hair. My fingers gripped the iron railing of the balcony, my knuckles turning white from the pressure. So this was it. All my pain, all my attempts to be logical and do the right thing—it was all just a joke to him. He wasn’t exclusively mine. He could turn his affection to someone else in a heartbeat. 【Hahaha, she’s watching from the balcony! Seething!】 【Look at her face, it’s like her whole world is ending. So satisfying to watch.】 【Keep looking, bitch. He’s not yours anymore.】 My phone vibrated in my pocket. A text message. It was from Claire, the real Ainsworth. “Did you see that, Penelope? Without the Ainsworth name, you’re nothing. Even Carter doesn’t want you anymore. You must be feeling pretty pathetic right now. It looks good on you.” I stared at the text, then back down at the picture-perfect couple below. Something inside me, something I had been suppressing for weeks, finally shattered. Why? Why was I the one who had to retreat, only to be vilified by everyone? Why did I have to be the one to sacrifice everything for their comfort, only to be left with nothing but scars? Why did they get to steal my entire life and then stand back and laugh at my despair? The comments continued to mock me. 【Just give up. A supporting character should know her place. Just be a stepping stone for the main couple’s love story.】 【Exactly. Why does she have to be so obnoxious?】 They wanted me to suffer. They wanted to see me break down, to watch me hide in a corner and cry. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. I turned and walked back into my room, straight to the suitcase I hadn’t fully unpacked. It held the relics of my former life: the most beautiful, most expensive clothes and jewelry I owned. I pulled out a stunning, floor-length red gown Carter had given me for my last birthday. Then, I sat at my small desk, and with a steady hand, I applied the most exquisite, dramatic makeup I knew how. The girl in the mirror was a stranger. Her eyes were sharp, her lips were the color of blood, and she carried herself with the pride of a thorny, untouchable rose. This was Penelope Ainsworth. The girl who had been cherished, who could have anything she ever wanted. They wanted a villain? Fine. I would give them one. I would become the villain who would bring them all to their knees.”

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The year Jocelyn hit rock bottom, her first love shattered her collarbone with a knife—all for a thousand bucks. I was the one who pulled her from the river she tried to drown herself in, giving her a second chance at life. It took her five years to claw her way up, transforming into a business prodigy the city’s elite whispered about in awe. And at the absolute peak of her career, she chose to marry me. Everyone said I was the luckiest man alive. Until our wedding day. Ryan, the ex who had abandoned her, crashed the ceremony and forcibly kissed her in front of everyone. He ripped open his collar, revealing a canvas of ugly, purplish marks. His eyes, full of provocation, locked onto mine. “Has Jocelyn ever played like this with you, Ethan? The night before your wedding, she was in my bed, begging me not to leave.” A chilling cold washed over me, plunging me into an icy abyss. I turned to look at Jocelyn. She just stood there, silent. No denial. No explanation. In that single, deafening moment, I understood everything. 1 Under the stunned gaze of every guest, I slowly withdrew the wedding ring I held in my palm. Jocelyn’s hand shot out, grabbing mine. Her voice was as unnervingly calm as ever. “What’s wrong? Aren’t we continuing the ceremony?” She paid no mind to Ryan’s taunts, nor did she deny a single word he’d said. Her reaction seemed to stun Ryan the most. He began to tremble violently, his face a mask of disbelief and rage. “Jocelyn! Have you forgotten what you said to me yesterday?” He swept his hand across a table, shattering a wine glass. Snatching a shard of glass, he pressed it against his own throat. “If you dare marry him today, I’ll die right here.” The wild movement exposed more of the dark marks blooming across his skin. My mind flashed back to the night before. Jocelyn was a lightweight, which is why I always handled the drinking at business functions. But last night, she’d come home completely wasted. The moment she walked through the door, she was on me, her kisses more desperate and passionate than ever before. “Ethan, it’s you I love, it can only be you…” she murmured against my lips. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me like he did.” She repeated it like a mantra, as if trying to convince me, or maybe herself. Then her phone buzzed, shattering the spell. Her face went pale when she saw the caller ID, and she instinctively pushed me away. I caught her hand, my voice hoarse. “Don’t stop.” She’d never pushed me away like that before. Never. “Our wedding is tomorrow. You need to rest,” she said, her voice suddenly distant. “Something came up at the office. I have to take care of it.” She leaned in, giving me a quick, almost chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth before hurrying out. She never came home that night. Now, I clenched my fist around the ring. The diamond bit into my flesh, the sharp sting a brutal confirmation that this was no nightmare. The old Jocelyn would have had anyone who disrupted her wedding dragged out and destroyed. But this Jocelyn simply held out her hand, stubbornly waiting for me to place the ring on her finger. “This is our wedding day. Don’t make a scene,” she whispered, her eyes flashing with a warning. “Ignore him. He doesn’t have the guts to actually do it. Let’s just finish the ceremony.” Her dismissive tone was the final straw for Ryan. He completely lost it, smashing decorations, his voice cracking as he screamed through his tears. “I won’t let you marry him! You promised me! Yesterday, you told me marrying Ethan was just your way of repaying a debt!” Jocelyn’s expression hardened. She finally shot Ryan a look, but only to signal her bodyguards to remove him. “He wants to die,” I said, my voice flat as I stepped forward, blocking the bodyguards’ path. “Why not let him?” I put the ring back in my pocket and turned to Jocelyn. “Does your promise to me still stand?” The day Ryan came back into her life, the day he found out I was her fiancé, he’d ambushed me on the street and stabbed me three times. I nearly bled out on the pavement. Jocelyn had sworn to me then, promised me that if I ever saw him again, I could settle the score myself. This time, I didn’t wait for her answer. I grabbed a steak knife from a nearby table and plunged it into Ryan’s stomach. Blood bloomed from the wound, dripping onto the pristine white floor. Gasps echoed through the hall. Jocelyn, who had been so composed, finally broke. Her face contorted in panic. She rushed to Ryan’s side, frantically checking his injury before whirling on me, her voice a venomous hiss. “Ethan! What the hell are you doing?” Her face was a thundercloud as she announced the wedding was postponed indefinitely. Then, without another glance at me, she helped Ryan out of the hall and rushed him to the hospital. The bride was gone. The wedding was a wreck. The officiant stood awkwardly on the stage. Watching her leave without a moment’s hesitation, a sharp, splintering pain pierced my heart. I let the bloody knife clatter to the floor. Jocelyn could walk away. Fine. But that meant my bride could be replaced, too. 2 Jocelyn’s assistant picked me up and drove me to the hospital. As the city lights blurred past the window, the last five years with her replayed in my mind like a phantom film. Before she met me, Jocelyn had nothing. Ryan had taken her last bit of money, breaking her collarbone in the process, all during the year she needed him most. I was the one who stood by her, who guided her to where she is today. I was the one who drank myself into stomach surgery just to land her a career-making deal. We endured five brutal years together, and she finally became the powerhouse she’d always dreamed of being. And then, Ryan came back. When I arrived at the hospital, I found Jocelyn pacing frantically outside the operating room, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. The moment she saw me, her panic vanished, replaced by a cold mask. She strode toward me, opening her mouth to speak, but then she met my gaze and lowered her voice. “Ethan, that was all in the past. I already punished him. Why can’t you just let it go?” she demanded, her voice tight with suppressed anger. “Don’t you realize that if he dies, you’ll be a murderer?” She was trying so hard to control her fury, her knuckles white as she gripped the fabric of her dress, her eyes darting back to the closed doors of the OR. A bitter smile twisted my lips. I lifted my shirt, revealing the three jagged, ugly scars that marred my abdomen. “So this is just ‘the past’ to you?” I asked, my voice dangerously quiet. “Do you have any idea how close I was to dying when he gave me these? You were the one who knelt by my hospital bed, swearing to me that if I ever saw him again, I could get my own justice.” Her promise was the only reason I’d signed the settlement, the only reason I’d agreed not to press charges. After that, Ryan had disappeared. I thought he was gone for good, but it turned out Jocelyn had been in contact with him all along. “I stabbed him once,” I said, my voice hollow. “And you’re already falling apart.” Jocelyn rubbed her temples, her frustration boiling over. “What do you want from me? I’ve finally secured my position in this city. Do you expect me to just stand by and watch you go to prison for murder?” She sighed, a long, weary sound, as if my actions today were nothing more than an inconvenience. “We’ve come so far. Can you please just stop making trouble?” “Good,” I said, my voice cold. “Since the wedding’s off anyway, this makes things simpler. If you want to rekindle things with your first love, I won’t stand in your way.” Her eyes turned to ice. The disappointment in them was a physical blow. “Is the wedding all you can think about right now? Is it that hard for you to admit you were wrong? There’s nothing going on between me and Ryan. Can’t you trust me for once? I just don’t want to see you resort to violence. If you actually killed him, what would I do?” Her words were so absurd I almost laughed. Before I could respond, the doors to the operating room swung open. A doctor pushed Ryan out on a gurney. “The wound wasn’t too deep. You got him here just in time. He’s out of danger now.” Jocelyn stared at Ryan’s pale face, her brow furrowed with worry. She reached out, her fingers gently tracing his cheek. Then, she took the knife—the same one I’d used at the wedding—from her assistant. Before I could process what was happening, she raised it to her own collarbone and slashed. Twice. Droplets of her blood spattered onto my face. I stood frozen, watching the color drain from her cheeks as crimson bloomed across the pristine white of her wedding dress. “Are you satisfied now?” she hissed, her voice trembling with pain and fury. “I’ve paid his debt with these two cuts. Now, you will leave him alone.” I closed my eyes, a dry, burning sensation behind them. “Fine,” I said, my voice devoid of all emotion. “We’re getting a divorce. From now on, we’re strangers.” 3 Jocelyn never came home after that. She stayed at the hospital, by Ryan’s side, for as long as he was there. I didn’t try to contact her. Instead, I had my lawyer deliver the divorce papers to her office. I also called the wedding planner and told them to change the bride’s name on the invitations. It was about time for my new bride to arrive, anyway. I glanced at the calendar on the wall, at the date circled in red. Today was also the anniversary of my sister’s death. “Lily,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the glass of the picture frame. “Jocelyn has changed. The person you saved… she doesn’t want me anymore.” My sister, Lily, had been Jocelyn’s best friend. When Jocelyn’s career was just taking off, a rival sabotaged them. They planted a bomb in their car. In the split second before the explosion, Lily shoved Jocelyn out of the vehicle. Lily was blown to pieces. There was nothing left to bury. After that, Jocelyn and I never spoke of her death. With the first money she ever made, Jocelyn bought her a plot in the city’s most beautiful cemetery. Every year, on this day, we would visit her together. But this year, I was alone. I held a bouquet of lavender, Lily’s favorite, and headed to the cemetery, a strange sense of dread coiling in my stomach. When I arrived, the place was swarming with men in black suits. Jocelyn’s bodyguards. My heart hammered against my ribs. I shoved my way through them, my blood running cold. The sight that greeted me almost drove me insane. “Dig faster. Get the urn out,” Jocelyn commanded her men. She stood over my sister’s grave, watching as they unearthed it with shovels. Once the urn was out, one of her men handed it to Ryan. The next second, with a triumphant, vicious smirk, Ryan smashed the urn on the ground. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” “Jocelyn, have you lost your mind?! THIS IS LILY’S GRAVE!” My legs gave out, and I collapsed to my knees. I scrambled forward, my hands trembling as I tried to scoop up my sister’s ashes from the mud. Jocelyn hadn’t expected me. She shot an irritated glare at her assistant. “I told you to keep him away.” She reached down to help me up, but I slapped her hand away. “Lily DIED for you! How could you do this? Aren’t you afraid of the consequences?!” I roared, fighting back tears, trying desperately not to let them fall and mix with the ashes. The wind was cruel, scattering what little remained. In the end, all I had was a handful of gray dust. Beside her, Ryan draped an arm around Jocelyn’s shoulders, his expression oozing with smug satisfaction. “Joce, you promised you’d grant my wish, remember?” A tremor ran through me. I slowly, stiffly, raised my head to look at her. A year ago, she had chosen this very spot for Lily, posting guards to ensure she would never be disturbed. And now, because of a single sentence from Ryan, she had dug up her grave. Jocelyn didn’t seem to think she’d done anything wrong. She knelt in front of me, her voice soft, almost gentle. “Lily’s been gone for so long, Ethan. She’s probably been reincarnated by now.” “I’ll build her a new, better memorial later.” “Ryan promised me,” she continued, her voice pleading, “that if I did this one thing for him, he would leave me alone for good. Then I can finally be with you, with no distractions.” The veins in my temples throbbed. I stared at her, my voice a low, guttural snarl. “You are pathetic, Jocelyn. Ryan would break your bones for a thousand dollars, and you’re still obsessed with him.” “I should have let you die in that river.” My voice was raw. I pushed myself to my feet, ready to lunge at Ryan, ready to kill them both right here. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to see them both dead. But the next sound wasn’t my own scream of rage. It was the deafening crack of a gunshot echoing through the cemetery.

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After my billionaire-family brother found me—the true heiress—I’d already been scavenging for eight years. He crushed my cardboard pile with his polished shoe as I gnawed on spoiled rice from a dumpster. “Aria has cancer,” he said flatly, hiding disgust. “I’ll bring you home after she’s gone.” I just nodded cheerfully. On his birthday, I spent my last money on his gift and flowers for Aria. Approaching the house, I heard him reassure her softly: “Flora will never know your cancer is fake. We can stall three, even five years. She can survive without me—but you can’t.” He blew out his candles and wished, “May Aria stay by my brother forever.” I walked away without entering. His wish came true—I didn’t have five years. Three days after I died, a viral video titled “Eighteen Years: A Cancer Patient’s Entire Life” spread online. 1 My brother had just given Aria a bracelet worth five million dollars. Her delighted laughter echoed from the grand villa. I couldn’t bring myself to disturb their happiness. The moment I stepped outside the gates, I couldn’t hold it back any longer. A mouthful of blood spewed from my lips, splattering across the gift in my hands. It was just a cheap watch, but the sight of it stained made my heart ache. I had spent three months collecting cardboard to afford it. I frantically tried to wipe the blood away, but my eyes caught a pile of cardboard next to a trash can, and professional habit kicked in. I had just bent down to grab it when a man holding a camera stepped in front of me, the lens practically shoved in my face. “‘Exploring the Underclass,’ episode three! What do you say, folks? Should we follow this little scrap-picker for the day?” The man was clean-cut and handsome, but something in his eyes made my skin crawl. “No, no, absolutely not!” I waved my hands frantically. He simply pulled out his phone and showed me a payment QR code. “Five hundred bucks for a day’s filming. I’ll pay you at the end.” Trash-picking could wait. Making money couldn’t. I scanned the code so fast I was afraid he’d take it back, tell me it was all a joke. The man lowered the camera for a second and sneered. “Her eyes sure light up at the sight of money.” I just grinned back at him like a fool. The truth is, money is useless to the dying. It’s for the living. And I didn’t have many days left. “My name is Kai,” he said. “I’m a vlogger who makes documentaries about the poor.” “You’re skin and bones. Must be starving. Let’s get you something to eat!” There was a calculating excitement in his voice as he dragged me towards the most expensive restaurant in the area. The gilded, opulent building would be the perfect backdrop to highlight a poor girl’s pathetic state, guaranteed to rack up clicks and controversy. Just as he’d hoped, I clutched the hem of my washed-out shirt, my voice timid. “That’s… that’s a place for rich people. I’ve never been inside.” A triumphant smirk played on Kai’s lips. He could already see the video going viral. Heh. I was lying. I came here all the time. Covered in grime, I’d scavenge through the dumpsters out back, watching my brother lead a princess-like Aria inside for dinner. Every night, the restaurant would throw out the leftovers. I’d be there waiting, squatting by the door for my “lucky feast.” Once, I hit the jackpot. I found a necklace in the scraps. It was a gift from my brother to Aria, her name engraved on the back. She’d tossed it because she thought the style was outdated. Shamelessly, I picked it up and put it on, admiring my reflection in the grimy mirror of a public restroom. I pretended… I pretended he had given it to me. I was still lost in the memory when Kai half-pushed, half-pulled me inside. The moment we sat down, his camera was back in my face. “You look so young. Why are you picking through trash? Don’t you have a family?” I held up two fingers, a strange pride in my voice. “I’ve had two families…” I paused, thinking of my brother, and raised a third finger. “No, wait. Three.” Kai raised an eyebrow, his tone mocking. “Three? Shouldn’t you be the happiest girl in the world then?” A lump formed in my throat. I started to tell him about my first family. “When I was five, I was sold by traffickers to an old, childless couple in the mountains.” Because I was a girl, I was cheap. The daughter of the city’s wealthiest man, sold for a mere thousand yuan. But in those backwoods villages where sons were prized above all else, being a girl was a sin. 2 My days were an endless cycle of herding sheep and finishing chores. They ate meat, but never shared any with me. All I got were potatoes. One for breakfast, one for lunch, half for dinner. When the hunger was unbearable, I’d beg from the other villagers. One man made me kowtow and call him grandpa before tossing me a stale bun. Another kicked me over and told me to get lost. At night, I slept in the sheep pen. In the winter, with no blanket, I’d press myself against the sheep for warmth. Through the low-set windows, the faces of the family I barely remembered would flicker in my tear-filled eyes. I tilted my head back, forcing the tears down, and put on a brave smile. “You know, whenever I thought I was going to freeze or starve to death, I would dream of my mom, my dad, and my brother,” I boasted. “They were so good to me. My parents would give me my favorite toys, and my brother would hold me in his arms and call me his ‘little treasure.’” The mocking smile on Kai’s face froze. The food arrived—all the restaurant’s signature dishes. He placed a piece of pork rib on my plate. “Let’s eat,” he said, his voice a little strained. I fought back the nausea churning in my stomach and shook my head with a hint of defiance. “I don’t eat meat.” Kai blinked, then burst out laughing. “A little beggar who’s a picky eater? You don’t eat meat?” I chuckled along with him, but tears welled up in my eyes. “At my adoptive parents’ house,” I began, “even their dog, Big Yellow, felt sorry for me. He would always leave me half of his food.” I was one step away from calling that dog my big brother. Thanks to him, I finally wasn’t starving anymore. To show my gratitude, I scrubbed his food bowl clean every single day until it shone. The first time I tasted meat was when my adoptive parents threw me a bone they had already gnawed clean. It was the most delicious thing I’d ever eaten. I chewed on it until my face was greasy. Then, my adoptive father smiled at me, his yellow teeth like gravestones. “Tastes good, doesn’t it? That’s Big Yellow. We got a good twenty pounds of meat off him.” The half-chewed piece of meat lodged in my throat. I clawed at my own neck, gagging and retching until I was spitting up bile. “After that,” I finished, pushing the plate away with a flourish, “I never touched meat again. Even when I could get it. I just… quit.” Kai stared at the pork rib, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “What happened after that?” “After that…” I rested my chin in my hand, my tone light. “That night, my adoptive father crept into the sheep pen. He started pulling at my clothes. Luckily, I was brave and clever. I grabbed a rake and cracked him over the head with it!” “He got really mad and said he was going to strangle me, but I squeezed through a hole in the wall that Big Yellow had dug before… you know. My dog brother saved me one last time.” I told the story as if it were nothing, but Kai’s eyes were turning red. He violently waved over a waiter. “Take all the meat dishes away! Bring us all vegetarian plates!” The waiter looked bewildered. Kai exploded. “What are you waiting for? Can’t you see this girl is starving?” I ate until I was full, patting my round belly with a satisfied burp. As we were leaving, I stopped the waiter. “Don’t throw those meat dishes out. Please pack them up for me.” At my words, the flicker of sympathy in Kai’s eyes instantly turned to suspicion. He aimed the camera at me, his voice dripping with contempt. “There it is. The act couldn’t last, could it? Tells a sob story about not eating meat, then turns around and asks for a doggy bag. What a little liar.” I ignored him, carefully scraping every last morsel of meat into the takeout containers. After the meal, Kai insisted on filming at my “home.” The car pulled up to a desolate garbage dump. In the center stood the burnt-out frame of a shack, patches of early winter snow still clinging to the broken roof tiles. That was my home. Just as I got out of the car, my phone rang. It was one of the students I sponsored. “Sister, I got the money. But it’s too much! Are you sure you have enough for yourself?” I puffed out my chest, my voice loud and proud. “Of course! Your sister is rich! I’m a billionaire’s daughter! I live in a huge mansion, drive a convertible, and eat gourmet food every day. Don’t you worry about me.” Kai looked around the foul-smelling dump, pinching his nose. “This trash heap… this is your ‘huge mansion’?” “It’s huge, isn’t it?” He kicked the tire of my three-wheeled cart, the one I used to haul trash. “And I suppose this is your ‘convertible’?” “Never gets stuck in traffic. Eco-friendly.” He scoffed. “And the ‘gourmet food’? I guess that part’s true. Scraps from a dumpster that not even a dog would touch!” “Waste not, want not,” I shot back. “Tch,” he muttered. “Too proud for your own good.” His condescending tone lasted until he glanced at my phone and saw the transfer history. The five hundred dollars he had just sent me… I had forwarded every last cent to that student. 3 His hand, holding the camera, faltered. He followed me into the burnt-out shack in silence. The inside was bare, but spotlessly clean. The walls were covered with donation certificates. The most prominent item was an old, yellowed certificate for “First Place in Class.” Kai squinted, adding up the amounts on the certificates. “Holy crap… you’ve donated a grand total of one hundred and five thousand, three hundred seventy-two dollars and sixty-three cents?” “Some of that was from my grandma,” I corrected him. “You have a grandmother?” he asked, surprised. “She was my second family.” When I was ten, I escaped my adoptive father’s clutches but nearly froze to death on the streets. An old woman who also collected scraps found me and took me in. She declared the day she found me to be my new birthday. I finally had a home again. Grandma sponsored a lot of students with the money she made from collecting scraps. That’s why, after a lifetime of doing it, she was still poor. But every day, she made sure I had milk and an egg. She said it would help me grow tall. I’d try to get her to eat some too, but she’d just shake her head and say she’d already eaten. Grandma was a liar. I knew she was living on cold, hard buns. So I became a liar, too. I’d pretend I had a small appetite, throw a little tantrum, and “waste” half my milk and egg in the trash can. She would always pick them out later and eat every last bit. “So what’s with the certificate?” Kai asked. “I didn’t go to school for a single day during the five years with my adoptive parents. But the day after Grandma found me, she enrolled me. She always used to say, ‘Oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful if our little Flora could get first place?’” I studied like my life depended on it. And on my thirteenth birthday, I did it. I got first place. I ran all the way home. When I pushed open the door, I saw a hot meal on the table and a tiny little cake. But Grandma was lying on the floor. She never woke up. The doctor said if I had brought her in just half an hour earlier, she would have been fine. “I came home at the same time every single day. That was the only day I was late… by half an hour… because I waited to get my first-place certificate.” The memory was a familiar weight, crushing my heart all over again. My name is Flora, but it feels like happiness has always been just out of my reach. “That was the only time in my life I ever got first place,” I whispered. “And she never got to see it.” “I believe that education can change your destiny. But after Grandma died, I was afraid no one would look after the students she sponsored. So I dropped out of school, took over her route, and kept picking trash to pay for their education. I just hope they can be happy one day.” “It doesn’t matter, though,” I said, waving a hand dismissively, though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to comfort. “Knowledge just turned me from a happy pig into a miserable Socrates. I think I’d rather be the pig.” Kai’s hand was shaking so much he could barely hold the camera. He opened his mouth to say something, but I suddenly remembered. I wiped my tears, grabbed a stainless-steel basin, and ran outside, banging it like a gong. “Dinner time!” From all corners of the dump, stray cats and dogs appeared, rubbing against my legs affectionately. I carefully divided the meat dishes I’d brought back into a dozen broken bowls and watched them devour the food. “Don’t fight, there’s enough for everyone.” Kai stared at me, dumbfounded. “You packed up the food… for them?” “Yep. This is my crew,” I said, beaming with pride. His face turned beet red. He fumbled for his phone. “I’m so sorry, I…” “I’m sending you another five thousand!” he blurted out, then quickly spoke to his camera. “And this isn’t for show, I swear.” My eyes lit up at the transfer notification. I started counting on my fingers. “Okay, so that means I have to film with you for ten more days.” Ten days. I should… I should still be alive for ten more days. “What about your third family?” Kai’s tone had become gentle, almost cautious. I looked up at the sky, trying to remember. “I guess they were really my first family. I was born to the wealthiest man in the city. But when I was five, my brother was being dragged away by a kidnapper. I tried to save him, and they threw me in the van instead.” Kai’s jaw dropped. “You were kidnapped because you were trying to save your brother?!” 4 He whipped out his phone and started typing furiously, quickly pulling up news articles about the city’s richest family. “The Sterling family, city’s wealthiest tycoon… your parents passed away a few years after you went missing. They said it was from heartbreak.” “But then your brother… he must have been looking for you this whole time. After all…” His voice trailed off as he came across an article about Aria. “Six years ago, your brother, Jared Sterling, adopted a girl. He named her Aria and treats her as if she were his own flesh and blood…” His voice got quieter and quieter. I gave him a sad smile. “Funny, isn’t it? My real brother found me, and he still didn’t want me.” “Then why didn’t you go find him?!” Kai yelled. I just smiled, a tear tracing a path through the grime on my cheek. “I was too scared.” Besides, I was out of time. Kai was furious. He grabbed my hand and started dragging me toward the road, determined to confront my brother. He was so enraged he forgot his camera, his hand just gripping mine tightly. For a dizzying moment, the warmth of his hand felt just like my brother’s, from a lifetime ago. As we stood before the opulent gates of the Sterling mansion, a ridiculous sliver of hope bloomed in my chest. Would he let me stay? The butler led us inside. As we approached the study, we heard Aria’s voice, whining and tearful. “But what if Flora throws a fit and demands to come back? Will you get rid of me then, brother?” Jared’s voice was warm, laced with a smile. “I’ve raised you for six years. Don’t you know me by now? I would get rid of Flora before I ever got rid of you.” “You bastard, Jared!” Kai roared, kicking the door open. The air in the room froze. Jared didn’t even bother to look up, his voice dangerously calm. “Kai, isn’t it? I’ve looked into you. A minor influencer who fakes everything for clicks. What is it you want?” Kai lunged forward, but I held him back. “The whole house is full of bodyguards. You’ll get hurt.” He gritted his teeth, pointing a shaking finger at my brother. “I might have faked things for money, but there are some lines I won’t cross. But you? You’re loaded, yet you let your own sister eat out of trash cans on the street! You’re worse than an animal!” Jared let out a cold laugh, his gaze landing on me like a shard of ice. “Is it money you want?” Before I could say no, Aria rushed forward and yanked at the necklace around my neck. “Isn’t this mine? It even has my name on it! You stole from me!” I clutched it desperately. “No, I found it!” Terrified that Jared would find out she’d thrown it away, she doubled down, screeching that I was a thief, clawing at my hands. In the struggle, my nail accidentally scratched the back of her hand. SLAP! Jared was on me in an instant, his hand connecting with my cheek in a brutal slap. “So this is what happens when you’re not raised right. No manners at all. You steal, and you think you’re justified?” I just stood there, stunned. The burning pain on my face spread straight to my heart. Kai screamed in rage and tried to throw a punch, but two bodyguards slammed him to the floor. Jared pulled out a thick wad of cash and threw it at my face. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Here, take it!” he snarled. “I told you I’d take you in after Aria was gone. Did you have to disgust us like this?” The bills fluttered down around me. A sudden, coppery taste filled my mouth. A mouthful of blood sprayed from my lips, splattering across the scattered bills in a sickeningly bright red. Oh. Maybe I don’t even have ten days left.

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