Category: English

Damian Cartez Romanov, the most dangerous mafia leader who wants Isabella Cassandra, a spy sent by his enemy to kill him. Initially, Damian wanted to kill Isabella because she dared to disturb his peace, but when he found out who Isabella really was, Damian erased his intention. Isabella Cassandra is someone who keeps a big secret about the Romanov Family and also a secret about their past relationship. Can Damian maintain his true love for Isabella when she is a spy for the greatest enemy who wants his death?

When my acceptance letter arrived, I was bedridden with a sudden high fever. My sister, Lainey Holmes, was taken away on her way to collect it, and no one knew if she was alive or dead. My parents, consumed by their grief and anger, turned on me. They tore up my acceptance letter and forced me to abandon my studies to work in a factory. Eventually, I was taken away, too. After a narrow escape, I sought refuge in an abandoned factory and sent my parents a desperate message for help. My father called in a voice filled with rage. “Sophie Holmes, are you out of your mind? You’re joking about that on the anniversary of Lainey’s death? “Do you have any idea how much your mother and I wish it was you who died that year?” Even in my final moments, their hateful words rang in my ear. I was tortured to death, and my body was discarded in a gutter for three days. Even my father, a seasoned forensic expert, couldn’t recognize me. When Lainey finally returned with her boyfriend—the one she had once eloped with—my father had just barely restored my appearance using forensic techniques. They knelt before my decaying corpse, wailing until they fainted. ***** It had been pouring for three days; the entire city felt drenched, a suffocating fog blanketing everything. When my bloated body finally floated out of the gutter, I terrified many onlookers. An eight-year-old boy was frightened and cried, clinging to his mother as she soothed him softly. As I watched them, tears filled my eyes. I hadn’t felt my mother’s embrace in years. Since Lainey went missing six years ago, my parents had only aimed their hatred at me. They hadn’t even given me a smile, let alone a hug. Soon, a cordon surrounded the scene, and I stood in the crowd, silently watching my rotting body. A police car pulled up, and my eyes lit up when the door swung open. My father’s colleague, Jace, hurried over to brief him. “Calvin, it looks like the body has been in the water for three days. With the rainstorm, any evidence at the scene may have been washed away. You’ll need to put extra effort into examining the body. “The DNA from the deceased has been sent to the lab, and we’ll get the results as soon as possible.” When my father laid eyes on my body, he frowned, his eyes reddening. Clenching his fists, he ground out. “This is so cruel!” I glanced at my lifeless form. The sight was indeed horrific. My hands and feet had been severed, my face mutilated beyond recognition, and even my eyeballs had been gouged out. The terror I felt before my death lingered on my features. My mouth was agape because I had screamed and cried before my death, and my tongue was severed, adding to the gruesome scene. At one glance, my father shed tears. I wept silently behind him. He hadn’t cried for me in six long years. He crouched in front of my body, his trembling hands tracing the scars that marred my skin. In a broken voice, he murmured, “The features of the deceased are unrecognizable, but it appears to be a young woman around 25 years old. “She endured multiple beatings before she was killed. Damn it. What kind of monster could do this? She was so young. Her family must be shattered!” Tears streamed down my face as I listened. Dad, if you knew it was me before you, would your heart ache just a little? After all, I was the one you hated the most in this world. For countless nights, you had screamed at me to go to hell. Now, you finally had what you wanted.

My lifeless body was placed into body bags and transported to my father’s office. Before long, my limbs were located and sent to him without delay. Jace frowned as he stood before the autopsy table, pointing to my finger. “Calvin, take a look. This deceased has clenched fists, but the middle finger of her right hand is broken off. Could there have been jewelry that could help identify her?” “I think so,” my father replied, nodding in agreement. Jace hesitated, glancing at my father. “I remember Sophie wears a ring on the middle finger of her right hand…” My father lifted his gaze, a hint of annoyance in his eyes. “There are plenty of people who wear rings. Do you think it’s that simple to kill her?” Jace, clearly anxious, grabbed my father’s arm, still wearing his gloves. “Calvin, do you remember that serial killer?” My father shuddered at the mention. That case had haunted him for years. Six years ago, he was the city’s most renowned forensic expert, while my mother was the youngest head of the Criminal Investigation Department. Back then, Jace was one of my mother’s subordinates. They were consumed by the hunt for a killer who had claimed the lives of eight girls, working tirelessly for a month without returning home. The killer was eventually apprehended, but there wasn’t enough evidence to secure a conviction. In a last-ditch effort, my father isolated himself in the forensic lab for three days without sleep, finally discovering the key evidence needed to convict the murderer. But no one anticipated that the killer had a twin brother. The day the murderer was executed was also the day Lainey went missing. The surveillance footage showed a man in a black raincoat dragging Lainey away, and she hadn’t been seen since. It was widely suspected that the murderer’s brother had taken her, but no one had the courage to voice that grim possibility. A year later, my mother resigned, overwhelmed by grief, while my father remained with the police force. Now, bringing up the past made my father visibly uneasy. Jace observed him closely, hesitating before saying, “If it really is him, Sophie could be in serious danger…” My father interrupted him impatiently, “Enough. “I would love to see Sophie dead. I warned her to keep an eye on Lainey and not let her go out, but she still asked Lainey to help her with her acceptance letter! “It was pouring that day, and Lainey was so young. The terror on her face as she was dragged away shattered my heart!” I had heard this story countless times. My parents would call me periodically, lashing out, blaming me for being so cold-hearted to push my sister to her doom while I stayed safe at home. I had defended myself, insisting I wasn’t responsible. That day, I had been in a feverish coma and had no idea Lainey was leaving the house. But they never believed me. To them, I was a heartless monster, a liar. In the midst of their endless accusations and blame, I often wished it had been me who vanished that year. If only I hadn’t fallen ill that day. If only I could have held on and not succumbed to my fever. If only I could have been the one to disappear instead of her. At least then, I wouldn’t be the unforgivable sinner I had become, living a life filled with misery. Jace sighed, wanting to continue his persuasion. But my father had shifted his focus, inspecting the deceased’s teeth. He slightly furrowed his brow while examining my broken front tooth. Then, he impassively instructed his assistant, “The deceased is missing a front tooth. From the fracture, it appears to have been broken quite some time ago. Make sure to include this in the autopsy report and inform the police; it could be a crucial clue in identifying her.” I looked at my father, tears brimming in my eyes. He had likely forgotten that his daughter, the one he loathed the most, was also missing a front tooth—the one he had broken himself.

Lainey had been missing for six years. In my parents’ minds, she was already gone for good. They buried her clothes, bought her a headstone, and marked the anniversary of her disappearance as the day of her death. I was only allowed to go home on that day to visit her grave, to repent, and to apologize. Last year, I fainted on my way to the train station, and a passerby took me to the hospital, making me miss my train home. Three days later, I returned home. My furious father yanked my hair and dragged me to Lainey’s grave. He held my head and slammed it against the tombstone. I was knocked dizzy, but his anger didn’t fade. He slapped me repeatedly until the corners of my mouth split, and one of my front teeth was knocked out. But now, he seemed to have forgotten all that. Maybe he never cared at all. In his eyes, no matter the injury I sustained—even if I died—I deserved it. Tears streamed down my face. Dad, I was really dead. I wondered if this was the atonement you’d hoped for. My father was engrossed in examining the body when his phone rang. He impatiently took off his gloves and answered it. “Sophie hasn’t come back yet. She just doesn’t want to repent to Lainey!” my mother snapped. I managed a bitter smile. Did they really think I didn’t want to come back? No. I was dead, killed by a gangster. My father scoffed. “She’d be better off never coming back. It’d be best if she just died. I can’t stand the sight of her!” I listened to their insults, my heart breaking all over again. I had reached out for help that day, but they didn’t care. Maybe my death was a relief for them. In fact, even if I hadn’t been killed, my time was limited. A year ago, when I fainted, they diagnosed me with a brain tumor. I told my parents, but they dismissed me, thinking I was just seeking sympathy. “Sophie, if you want to die, go ahead. Don’t expect us to feel sorry for you.” I didn’t want to die. They were getting older and needed someone to care for them. But now, watching the disgust in their eyes as they spoke about me, I felt a strange sense of relief that I had died this way. They had always hoped I would vanish, and I believed they felt happy when they discovered I had died so tragically. After hanging up, my father turned his attention back to my body. His eyes started to redden as he took in the sight. He said, his voice trembling, “The deceased had knife wounds—eight stabs, and they all missed the vital organs. “The cause of death was excessive bleeding. The murderer is a true monster. He let a girl bleed to death. How agonizing that must have been!” I felt an even deeper bitterness. It was indeed painful. I had writhed in agony, but all I could do was cry helplessly. But my crying only seemed to annoy the murderer. He grinned as he gouged out my eyes. My father’s hands shook as he held the scalpel. He took a deep breath and instructed his assistants to prepare for a craniotomy. I held onto a sliver of hope. When he saw the tumor in my brain, would he think of me? Just then, the door to the forensic lab swung open. A young officer stood there, looking panic-stricken as he addressed my father. My father frowned, clearly annoyed. “What’s the rush? Young people these days are so reckless. “Can’t you see I’m busy? Make it quick!” Summoning the courage, the officer said, “Jace, Calvin, the DNA report of the deceased just came in. She… she is Calvin’s daughter!” At the same time, my mother’s eager and surprised voice cracked from my father’s phone. “Lainey is back. She’s still alive! “The neglect we showed Sophie over the years is enough to atone for her sins. Now that our family is finally reunited, let’s treat her right from now on.”

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During the birthday celebration of my parents’ fake daughter, I accidentally ruined her cake. My parents and brother, without a moment’s hesitation, locked me away in the basement. “You’ve ruined the party with your jealousy,” they spat. “Stay here and think about what you’ve done!” The perfect family of four jetted off to Crystal Island to throw another birthday party for their precious fake daughter, leaving me alone in the cold, dark basement. But fate had an even crueler twist in store. A gas leak had been slowly filling the house, and I remained trapped below. When they remotely switched on the lights, the entire mansion erupted into a devastating explosion. In an instant, I was gone. Even in death, my spirit lingered, drifting weightlessly to their location. There they were, on a pristine beach, surrounding their beloved fake daughter. The luxurious three-tiered cake was wheeled out, and my parents and brother gathered around the imposter, their faces glowing with affection as they watched her make her birthday wish. The imposter put on a show of concern, asking about my well-being with false sincerity. “You’re just too kind-hearted, Clair,” they told her. “Someone like that needs to be taught a lesson by being locked up at home. That’ll make her think twice before trying to steal from you again.” Those words shattered any remaining hope I had in them. Yet, when they returned home to find the mansion reduced to rubble, my parents and brother completely lost their minds. ***** “Dad, Mom, Tommy, thank you for celebrating my birthday with me.” Clair Henderson’s eyes sparkled with joy as she gazed at her parents, Oscar and Nicole Henderson, and her brother, Thomas Henderson, aboard the luxury cruise ship. “This will truly be a day I’ll never forget.” She was a vision in her million-dollar Chanel couture gown, crowned with a diamond tiara so brilliant it could blind. Like a princess from a fairy tale, she basked in the spotlight of their undivided attention. My parents and brother gazed at her with unbridled adoration. No one could see me standing nearby, silently watching them, because I was already dead, and they couldn’t see my soul. But what difference would it make if they could? In this family, I had always been invisible anyway. “Clair is truly the crown jewel of the Henderson family. This birthday party must have cost millions of dollars at least,” one of the bystanders whispered. “And that’s not all—I saw that pink diamond necklace she’s wearing at an auction. It was worth eight million dollars.” “Clair is so lucky to have such a family who cherishes her so much.” Hearing the guests’ admiring comments aboard the yacht, I revealed a bitter smile. Yes, how lucky she was indeed. I was the true Ms. Henderson, yet she was nothing but an imposter who stole my place in the family. Yet, my own flesh and blood, my family, only had eyes for her. They had even forgotten that Clair and I shared the same birthday. But while she had a party, I didn’t even get a single present. Not even a slice of birthday cake was saved for me. Then Clair, surrounded by their adoration, suddenly brought up my name. “Oh, yes, is it really okay to leave Izzy alone at home? Even though she ruined my birthday party, I’m sure she didn’t mean to. Dad, Mom, Tommy, please don’t be angry at her because of me.” Her tone was sincere, her face etched with concern as if she genuinely cared about my well-being. Thomas let out a cold snort. “That bitch will be fine! Clair, you’re just too kind-hearted. That’s why she was able to bully you!” My parents nodded in agreement. “That’s right, Clair. Don’t worry about her. She’s old enough to know better, but she has no manners at all. We’re just teaching her a little lesson,” my father Oscar sneered. “That’s what she gets for being so jealous and ruining your birthday party,” my mother Nicole said. “She’ll think twice before trying to steal from you again!” Their words sent an icy chill down my spine. They called it a “lesson”. Their idea of a lesson was locking me alone in a dark basement after sending all the servants away. I was left alone in that massive mansion, trapped in a basement with no food or water. They called this just a lesson?

Clair’s birthday party was supposed to be held at our mansion. When they wheeled out her custom five-tier cake, I suddenly felt hands shoving me from behind. Before I could catch myself, I crashed straight into the cake. Cake frosting and fruit covered my face and clothes. I would never forget the mockery in the guests’ expressions, nor the accusations hurled at me by my parents and Thomas. They claimed I was jealous of Clair, that I deliberately ruined her birthday celebration. My protests fell on deaf ears—not a single person was willing to believe me. “No wonder the headmaster said you had behavioral issues, Isabella. You’re a complete waste of space.” Thomas frowned. “Only Clair and I were standing behind you. What? Are you going to accuse us of pushing you?” The way Thomas looked at me then—like I was something filthy he’d found on the bottom of his shoe. He yanked me violently, sending me crashing to the floor. My face contorted in pain as my knees hit the ground. My already pathetic state now looked even more pitiful. The stares of onlookers cut into me like knives, but the deepest wounds came from my own family. My parents cast one disappointed look at me before ordering the servants to lock me in the basement. Then they whisked away their “aggrieved” Clair to Crystal Island, chartering a luxury cruise ship to throw their precious princess a new birthday celebration. Meanwhile, I suffered alone in the basement. The truth was the person, who had switched Clair and me, had abandoned me at an orphanage where I grew up. No one knew that beneath the headmaster’s kind facade lay a woman who took pleasure in tormenting me behind closed doors. Whenever I made a mistake, she would lock me in a tiny dark room. That pitch-black chamber had no light whatsoever, making it impossible to tell how much time had passed. If even adults would break down in such conditions, how could we children possibly cope? I had almost managed to bury those painful memories. But the people who should have been closest to me forced me to remember everything. Terror ripped through me as I screamed in desperation, clawing at the basement door until my fingernails left bloody trails across its surface. My pleas went unanswered. That was when the crushing realization hit me—the house was empty. They had abandoned me. I pulled out my phone with trembling hands, calling my parents and Thomas countless times, even sending desperate messages begging them to release me. But they had blocked my number, and my messages disappeared into a void, never to be answered. They were determined to punish me. Their hearts hardened against any plea. Just as I was on the brink of breaking down, a distinct smell hit me—like rotten eggs permeating the air. The realization struck immediately—gas was leaking throughout the house. With the doors firmly locked, there was no escape. I could only huddle in the corner, pressing clothing against my nose and mouth in a desperate attempt to breathe. Then, at the worst possible moment, the mansion’s lights flickered on. In the next instant, the entire house was obliterated, reduced to nothing but rubble on the ground. I couldn’t escape the blast. The explosion threw my body several feet, tearing it apart so completely that not even an intact corpse remained. Yet my family remained completely unaware. Thomas pulled out his phone and dialed my number impatiently. But my old flip phone had been destroyed in the blast, and his call went unanswered. This had never happened before. I had set unique ringtones for each family member and always answered their calls instantly. This was the first time I had ever failed to respond. Thomas furrowed his brow slightly, showing signs of unease. Noticing this, Clair quickly moved closer to him, her face filled with concern. “Is Izzy angry?” she asked softly. At her words, Thomas’ unease immediately vanished. “She’s the one who did wrong. What right does she have to be angry? “If you ask me, she should be begging for your forgiveness! This is your 18th birthday celebration, for heaven’s sake!” A flicker of sadness crossed Clair’s face, but she still managed a smile. “It’s okay, Tommy. You’ve all made it up to me already. I’m sure Izzy didn’t mean any harm.” Her words, so mature and understanding, only made Oscar, Nicole, and Thomas feel even more protective of her. Of course, their disgust towards me only grew stronger. I overheard Nicole muttering under her breath, “Why couldn’t Clair be my biological daughter instead?” “Isabella is just so…” She clicked her tongue in disapproval. Perhaps because I had already lost all faith in them, these words no longer hurt me like they used to. There was just one thing I couldn’t understand. If they never loved me, why did they go through all the trouble of bringing me home in the first place?

My confusion was soon answered. After Clair’s birthday celebration, everyone retired to their rooms. With nowhere else to go, I followed my parents. Oscar sank into the sofa, wearily massaging his temples. Nicole pulled out various medications from her suitcase and laid them out in front of him. “Oscar, you need to get admitted to the hospital soon,” she urged. “The hospital just sent word that Isabella’s compatibility results are back—she’s a match. Now that we have a kidney donor, you can finally get the surgery.” Oscar let out a heavy sigh. “But what if Isabella refuses to donate? She’s always been selfish.” Nicole let out a cold snort, slamming her glass down on the table. “What right does she have to refuse? It’s just one kidney! After the donation, we’d take care of her for the rest of her life. Isn’t that enough? “If it weren’t for your condition, I wouldn’t even want to see such an ill-mannered girl in our house! Ever since she came back, look at all the grief she’s caused Clair!” The mention of me set off a torrent of complaints from Nicole. Oscar’s expression darkened. “That’s enough,” he said. “She is still our biological daughter, after all. If it hadn’t been for Clair’s birth mother, she wouldn’t have ended up in that orphanage. “Though she might not have suffered there, she still had a hard time.” Nicole rolled her eyes. “What’s there to feel sorry about? Didn’t you hear what the headmaster said? She treated Isabella like her own daughter, and Isabella nearly killed her in return! “Such a cold-hearted woman deserves whatever suffering comes her way. Besides, how can we blame Clair for what her mother did?” Oscar seemed to agree with Nicole’s reasoning. He took his medicine from the table before speaking again, “Alright, I’m not blaming Clair. If anyone’s to blame, it’s that girl’s fate. “Like you said, dear, after she donates her kidney, we’ll buy her a house and support her for life. That should be enough.” Nicole finally seemed satisfied. “That’s more like it. Clair is the only daughter in my heart. You should buy a house far away from here. I don’t want to keep seeing her. Who knows? She might try to harm me next.” After chatting for a while longer, they turned off the lights and went to bed. No one saw me standing there, frozen in place for over half an hour. So that was how it was. They only brought me back because they needed my kidney. Their coldness towards me was because they believed the lies of that cruel headmaster who always bullied me. So, they never loved me at all. I suddenly found myself laughing at the absurdity of it all, doubling over and clutching my stomach. But as I laughed, tears began streaming down my face, beyond my control. Why did it have to be this way? I truly believed I was finally about to be loved. But it was all just an elaborate deception. After calming myself, I walked to my parents’ bedside and gazed at their sleeping faces. They looked just like the parents I’d imagined as a child. Oscar was tall and handsome, while Nicole was beautiful and gentle. But now, they were monsters to me. They weren’t my mom and dad but Clair’s. They would never protect me, only Clair. From beginning to end, they had never once believed in me. As bitterness spread through my heart, I found my hand reaching out, fingers brushing against Nicole’s delicate neck. But in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. There was a saying that rang true. While parents might have many children, a child only had one set of parents. No one ever taught me how to stop loving my parents when they didn’t love me back. I curled up in the corner, trying to find some comfort in myself. But suddenly, the silence of the night was shattered by Oscar’s ringtone. He answered the phone in a drowsy haze. Then, I heard the voice on the other end. “Is this Mr. Henderson? There’s been an explosion at your home due to a gas leak. We’ve found a female body at the scene. Would you be able to come back and assist with our investigation?”

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A video was shared on my husband’s Instagram account, in which he was drinking wine with his first love in a bar as they gazed fondly at each other. Having not eaten for a day, I put down the diaper I just changed for Erica’s mother and looked at the dirty dishes in the kitchen. I took some rest on the sofa, and the baby in my belly protested for food. Staring at my phone for a while, I gave a thumbs up to that picture and commented: [You’re made for each other.] Suddenly, I received a call from my husband, and as soon as I answered, he yelled at me, “That was only a game. Why are you making a fuss over it?” “Fine, I hope you can really be a couple,” I thought to myself. “Of course, they are made for each other. Thank god you know that.” Erica Linch’s friend, Henry Zander, replied to me unceremoniously in the comments. His point was obvious. Without seeing him in person, I could feel the contempt and disdain in his tone. Erica probably didn’t block anyone from seeing this post. All of his friends, including those I had never met or only met a few times, could see it. They might be laughing in front of the screen, or perhaps discussing it privately, imagining the awkwardness and insecurity I, Erica’s wife, feel when I said in the comments that my husband and someone else were a perfect match. They say that the way your husband treats you reflects how his friends treat you. At that moment, I had a deeper understanding of that saying. Erica probably didn’t show the respect and care I deserved in front of them. With these thoughts, an indescribable sense of suffocating pain subtly rose in my heart. They all seemed to agree tacitly that Ann Yates was more suitable for Erica. And I, the woman who had been married to Erica for many years had never been able to bear him a child, seemed to have been quietly excluded from this circle. I had sacrificed so much for this family ever since we got married. Both our parents urged me to get pregnant soon. I had no choice but to temporarily resign from the job I loved and focus entirely on getting pregnant. At the same time, I needed to take care of Erica’s parents, fulfilling my duty as his wife. However, being unemployed made me doubt my worth more than ever. I graduated from a prestigious university with a bright career outlook and my own dreams and pursuits. But I allowed myself to give up my career and dreams and become a housewife for the sake of a man. That was completely different from the ambition and aspirations I had when I first graduated. I rarely met Erica’s friends, not because I didn’t want to go, but because I knew that I wasn’t welcomed in that circle. On the one hand, Erica didn’t really want to take me. On the other hand, I felt that I wasn’t the same kind of person as his friends. That video further confirmed this point. Thinking like this, I felt utterly worn out, not knowing what my efforts over the years had truly brought me. I couldn’t help but feel confused, not knowing if my persistence in this marriage still held any meaning. Just then, there was a soft click from the fingerprint lock outside the door, and Erica had returned. He was taken aback to see that the living room light was still on. Then, his gaze fell on me sitting on the sofa. He must have remembered the video earlier, and upon seeing my impassive face, he started to explain, which was truly surprising to me, “About that video, we were only playing a game to welcome Ann back. She lost the truth-or-dare, and those guys were all my friends. She couldn’t do that with other guys, so I helped her out and drank with her.” His tone carried a hint of helplessness, as if that really wasn’t a big deal. I twitched my lips and looked up at him with sarcasm and disappointment in my eyes. “You were only helping her out? Erica, we didn’t even have a toast when we got married back then. And those so-called friends of yours, each one of them looks like they’re attending a funeral.” My words inevitably carried a hint of sharpness and bitterness. I vented the long-suppressed emotions in my heart. Instantly enraged, Erica widened his eyes and shouted with a trembling voice, “Lola Harrison! Can you stop being unreasonable?! How could you say that?!” I looked into his eyes, and just thinking about the ambiguous atmosphere between them at that time and his friend’s comments made me feel a wave of nausea. I took a deep breath and said decisively, “You sleep in the living room. I don’t want to be in the same room with you.” Unexpectedly, that touched Erica’s sore spot, and he suddenly spoke angrily. “Fine, Lola, whatever!”

I met Erica in middle school, fell in love with him in high school, and had known him for seven years. I lived next door to him when I was a child. When I first moved in, I knew nobody knew, and I was terrified. It was Erica who leaned over from the other side of the wall, smiled, and spoke up, “Hello, my name is Erica Linch! What is your name?” Since then, we often went home together after school. In middle school, we took the school bus together, and as we got older, we rode bikes together. I had always known a girl named Ann Yates, who was Erica’s childhood sweetheart. Later, due to her parents’ work, she moved abroad, and I moved in afterward. These had never been a secret between Erica and me. One evening after self-study during our sophomore year in high school, Erica handed me a big bouquet on my way home, his eyes sparkling. He asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend. I still remember that feeling of excitement, as if I would never like someone that much again in my life. I was touched by Erica and got together with him. Later, I even moved away from my hometown to get into the university that he attended. I simply devoted all my youth to Erica. Later, we went to college together. After Erica graduated from college, he started his own business, and it was really a tough road. During the bottleneck period of his career, I stayed by his side, caring for him and encouraging him. I was always there, helping him to get out of whack. After going through a career crisis, he proposed to me. I always thought of myself as the happiest woman, even though Erica had never wanted me to meet his friends over the years and even though his friends didn’t particularly like me. They only liked Ann. The issue about Ann was like a time bomb. No one knew when it would break out. It seemed that it wouldn’t go off at all. It would only gnaw my heart until no feeling was left in it for Erica. Thinking of this, I touched my belly where the late-arriving baby was with pity. I had always wanted to have a baby, and I didn’t expect him to arrive at this moment. But I was grateful that he came at this time. If he had come a bit earlier, I wouldn’t have had so much courage. Instead, I would have had a lot of concerns as my belly started to show. I really couldn’t bear to let my child be born into an unhappy family. It was enough for me to be unhappy. It seemed that having an abortion was the only option for me. I made an appointment for the abortion procedure that very evening. I knew I would probably be sleepless all night, so I went to the kitchen to heat some milk. Erica was in the guest room, and when he saw me come out of the main bedroom with a terrible look, he asked, “Are you calm? You’re really a piece of work now, Lola.” Hearing this, I hesitated on whether to tell him the news, but suddenly Erica’s phone rang. The caller ID showed it was Ann. Erica almost immediately picked it up. “Hello? Ann, what’s wrong?” Ann deliberately lowered her voice on the other end of the phone and then spoke, “Erica, I suddenly have a stomachache. Can you come over?” I heard it clearly, and then I watched as Erica responded, “Coming right up.” He didn’t even look at me. He just picked up his coat and was about to leave. “Erica.” I suddenly called out to him, ready to give him one last chance. “Stay and have some food with me. Don’t go.” Erica was slightly taken aback, then furrowed his brows. He thought I didn’t hear Ann’s voice on the other end of the phone. So, he still tried to deceive me. “You know my company needs me. Why are you throwing a tantrum here? Without my company, you wouldn’t even be able to afford food. “Lola, I don’t have time right now. If you want to eat, go ahead. If not, that’s fine. Don’t forget to see my parents tomorrow.” The door slammed shut with a bang, and I felt disheartened. Before long, a message notification chimed in on the phone. It was Ann. She sent me a photo on purpose. In the photo, two people were holding hands, and the man was wearing a ring on his ring finger. It was the same as the one in my hand.

At that moment, I felt utterly despondent, as everything I did seemed absurd in the eyes of others. With Erica’s departure, the once spacious home instantly felt empty, as if the air had solidified, emanating a faint chill that pierced deep into my heart. I suddenly realized that I had never truly regarded this place as my home, and in my heart, I even faintly rejected this cage. The following day, I woke up early and went to the hospital for an abortion. The doctor had probably long been accustomed to pregnant women like me who had no family accompanying them and just coldly instructed, “Sign here, then go wait in the hallway. A nurse will take you to change into the surgical gown shortly.” I pursed my dry lips and nodded, feeling a sharp pain in my heart, and my eyes involuntarily turned red. Only then did the doctor notice my emotions. She sighed deeply, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness, “At this stage, it’s just a fertilized egg. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. “If you regret it now, it’s still not too late. However, I must remind you that since you can come here, it must be the choice you made after weighing the pros and cons.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my emotions, and nodded firmly, “Yes, thank you, doctor. I’ve made my decision.” While I was paying, I unexpectedly ran into Erica and Ann at the corner of the hospital. I didn’t know what they were doing in the gynecological department. Although I had doubts in my mind, I didn’t intend to speculate. I was just about to turn around and walk past them when Erica noticed me. He seemed surprised. “Lola? What are you doing here?”

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Sadie Bailey’s friend was getting married, and even though I was pregnant, my boyfriend, Waylon Powell, insisted that I attend the wedding just because Sadie said it would be nice for me to see the ceremony and get prepared for my own wedding. During the wedding, the groom raised a toast. Sadie encouraged me to take a drink, saying, “Eloise, there are so many guests here. Just let loose a little!” I declined, and Sadie ended up drinking a glass on my behalf. I noticed Waylon’s expression darken suddenly. As the wedding festivities were winding down, Waylon pulled me aside, his voice tight with anger. “Why aren’t you playing along? Stop pretending!” He pinched my chin and forced me to drink half a bottle of wine before kicking me out of the room, claiming I was ruining the fun. I ended up vomiting all over the floor and blacked out by the roadside. When I woke up, I was naked, and my lower body was covered in blood. My child was gone, and I no longer wanted anything to do with Waylon. My entire body throbbed with pain. I felt cold and utterly drained. As I slowly opened my eyes, I realized I was in an alley. A cold gust of wind swept through, causing me to shiver involuntarily. That was when it struck me—I was naked. Panic surged through me as I trembled in disbelief. I glanced down and saw bruises littering my skin. My lower body was smeared with blood. In an instant, fear gripped me. I touched my stomach—the child I had carried was lifeless now. He had even kicked me yesterday. I burst into tears and called an ambulance with all my strength before succumbing to exhaustion and passing out. When I opened my eyes again, I was on a stretcher in a hospital. Doctors and nurses rushed toward the operating room; their faces etched with sympathy. Upon seeing that I was awake, the doctor leaned in quickly. “Hello, you’re in critical condition and need immediate surgery. Has a family member arrived? They need to sign.” My lips were parched, and it took me a moment to find my voice. “No, I’ll sign myself.” The doctor nodded, quickly instructing the other staff to prepare for the operation. As the operating lights flickered on, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Waylon, how could you do this to me? Because of his promise of a grand wedding once he became successful, I devoted myself to him over the years and even had a child before marriage. And this was my reward? All those sacrifices were for nothing. The operation went smoothly, but when I opened my eyes, the doctor wore a look of regret. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Crawford, your child…” I shut my eyes, feeling a wave of sorrow. “I understand,” I croaked. Tears streamed down my face. Even though I had braced myself for this moment, the grief was overwhelming. The doctor and nurses rushed to comfort me, but their words were hollow. This child had meant everything to both Waylon and me. When he first learned I was pregnant, he had taken such good care of me. But after his memorable crush, Sadie, came back, everything changed within months. Feelings could shift so quickly. He disregarded my pregnancy and chose to get me drunk for Sadie’s sake. The doctor called the police after my incident. When I woke up, they showed me their badges and asked, “Ms. Crawford, do you remember where the incident occurred and where you woke up last night?” I briefly closed my eyes, grappling with a splitting headache, but managed to recall a few images and tentatively mentioned the street and the alley. As the officers left, I overheard one of the younger ones muttering in the hallway, “She drank while pregnant! She’s so reckless. Now, the baby is gone. She…” “Shut up! She’s the victim! Remember what I told you?” an older officer scolded, and their footsteps faded away. Infused with sadness, I deserved it. And I also deserved it for falling for a man like Waylon. Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was Waylon. I answered the call, and he immediately questioned, “Eloise Crawford, where are you?”

When I fell silent, Waylon began to berate me. “I just let you have a little wine, and now you think you can just storm off in a huff? You’re pregnant and still out everywhere. Do you even care about me or this child?” I felt utterly drained and said slowly, “Waylon, so you knew I was pregnant. Why did you make me drink?” Waylon appeared taken aback by the hoarseness in my voice. Before he could respond, Sadie interjected, pretending to sound remorseful, “Eloise, I knew you left because of this. It’s all my fault. I thought your pregnancy was stable, so I suggested you have some wine. I didn’t expect…” Waylon cut her off with a sharp tone. “Sadie, this isn’t on you. It’s all Eloise’s fault. I’ve never seen a pregnant woman run off after just a little drinking. She’s too fragile!” His momentary concern for my weak voice vanished in an instant. As I listened to him, I felt calm, and my eyes grew vacant. Then, Waylon took the phone and commanded with a harsh tone, “Eloise, no matter where you are, get back here immediately and apologize to Sadie. She’s just a girl. How can she handle your cruelty?” She couldn’t handle it? Just a girl? I was actually six months younger than Sadie. I pondered for a moment, realizing it wasn’t about age—it was clear he no longer loved me. Waylon’s frustration grew as he noticed my silence. In all the years we’ve been together, this was probably the first time that I have been so ‘rebellious’ in his eyes, and it infuriated him. “Eloise! Are you deaf?” he shouted. Since Sadie returned, I have fought with him over his lack of attention. Every time we argued about Sadie, he accused me of being petty and maliciously speculating about their relationship. He would even storm out, slamming the door behind him. And Sadie’s Instagram would happen to have some provocative updates, which she clearly intended for me to see. “No,” I replied flatly. Moments later, Sadie sent me a short video of herself in revealing clothing, with someone showering in the bathroom. When I recognized it was Waylon instantly, she quickly deleted the message and followed up with a voice one: [Sorry, Eloise, I sent that by mistake. You didn’t see it, right?] I calmly listened to her feigned apology while thinking about her blatant provocation. I brought my phone close to my mouth and smiled, replying: [I saw it. Have fun.] Sadie didn’t reply, but I knew she had read my message. The operation and the emotional toll had left me completely exhausted. After a night’s rest, I was jolted awake the next day by a loud commotion. “Sir! You can’t come in! The patient needs to rest! Sir!” “I’m here to see my girlfriend! Which department are you from?” As I opened my eyes, I saw Waylon shoving the nurse aside and storming into the ward. His expression shifted from shock at my pale face to a sneer. “I was wondering where you disappeared to. Turns out you’re here!”

I frowned and was surprised at how he had managed to find me so quickly. Then it hit me—I had used his bank card to settle the hospital bill last night. Just then, I heard the sound of high heels clicking down the corridor. It was Sadie, stepping in with a flawless appearance and perfectly done makeup. Upon spotting me, she feigned concern, asking, “Eloise, what’s going on? Why didn’t you tell Waylon and me that you were admitted?” Before Sadie could finish her sentence, Waylon pulled her closer to him. He studied me for a moment. Perhaps it was the thick comforter that concealed the reality, and he scoffed, “Sadie, don’t bother with her. She’s just putting on a show. That pale face of hers is just a ploy to get my attention. She’s perfectly fine.” “Really, Waylon? But I think she…” Sadie acted surprised, with her expression kind yet insincere. Waylon looked at me with disdain, probably comparing me to Sadie and deciding I was even more vicious. “It can’t be alcohol poisoning. She used to be a good drinker. She can’t fool me.” I closed my eyes, recalling the early days of Waylon’s business when he had business dinners everywhere, and I accompanied him. I was never much of a drinker, but every time I saw those powerful bosses making things difficult and making him drink, I couldn’t help but take a few shots on his behalf. I would often end up vomiting in private, suffering countless nights of embarrassment and stomach pain. I never confessed to him. I didn’t want to add to his stress. I accepted that I had bad luck and had spent the past five years with a jerk. After this ordeal, I had learned my lesson. From now on, I was done having feelings for Waylon. “What’s your next act? Just wrap it up. Then let’s go home and stop embarrassing yourself here. So childish!” Waylon said dismissively. At that moment, a voice boomed from outside the door, “Who’s here?” I immediately realized that the earlier conflict must have prompted the nurse to go straight to the director. Waylon and Sadie froze momentarily, and he sneered, “Eloise, you even hired actors for this. Quite generous of you.” The director entered, visibly angry, and the nurse chimed in, “Actors? Who are you? Please leave and don’t disturb the patient. She just had an abortion yesterday and needs to rest!” “Yeah, right. Eloise, you should at least make your act more convincing…” Waylon scoffed, casting a casual glance at the director before turning back to me. Just as he was about to continue, he caught sight of the comforter I had lifted, revealing my flat belly. I cut him off coldly. “Waylon, is this convincing enough?” He paused, momentarily stunned, even caught mid-sentence with his mouth agape, looking ridiculous. In the next instant, his body shook with disbelief, and he finally panicked. “Eloise, did you have an abortion?”

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I was hospitalized for a week because of my miscarriage. Before I was discharged from the hospital, Zach finally showed up. Melanie was beside him, holding his arm intimately, and said shyly, “Winona, Zach is going to hold a celebration party for me tonight to celebrate my pregnancy. You must come! After all, I can get pregnant thanks to Zach’s help.” Seeing that I didn’t say anything, Zach said impatiently, “You lost your baby, and you don’t allow Melanie to get pregnant? “Winona, how can you become so vicious? “No matter what, you must be there tonight!” That night, I attended the banquet in mourning clothes, which surprised everyone. “You continue. My husband successfully donated sperm to Melanie, and I am commemorating my baby. I won’t affect you.” When I walked into the banquet hall holding my baby’s portrait, the whole audience was silent. Everyone consciously made way for me. Melanie’s friend boldly stopped me and asked, “Who are you? Melanie and her husband are celebrating their three-month pregnancy. What do you mean by dressing like this? ” I ignored her, turned around, asked the workers to put the signboards and wreaths in place, and said loudly, “It’s not easy for Melanie to get pregnant, and it is even harder for my husband. “Zach worked hard for three months to make his friend’s widow pregnant and accompanied Melanie every day to have a baby. Even when I had a miscarriage at five months pregnant, he didn’t come to the hospital to see me. What a great love! I’m really moved by them.” The signboards were printed with Zach’s records of donating sperm to Melanie, as well as their intimate photos. The hall was immediately in chaos. “Oh my God. Such explosive news? So they are not a couple?” The commotion in the front hall quickly attracted the two of them. Melanie nestled in Zach’s arms and cried. “Winona, I just want a child. Do you have to slander me and Zach like this? I understand that you are in a bad mood because you lost your baby, but it’s not my fault. You are going too far!” Zach wiped her tears with a look of pity and looked up at me with disapproval in his eyes. “Winona, you’ve been pregnant before, and you know how hard it is to be pregnant. How could you provoke her like this? “Melanie has given so much for this child, and you treat her like this. You’re so vicious! “Melanie’s husband is like a brother to me. Now that he’s gone, it’s only natural for me to take care of Melanie. You should apologize to Melanie!” I sneered, “If her husband knew his wife was pregnant with his friend’s child, he would probably be furious. Zach, did your good friend who died early know that she was your first love?” After I finished speaking, Zach looked guilty. He argued evasively. “Winona, everything is a misunderstanding. It’s good that you vent it out. Stop making trouble. Just go home, and I’ll be with you tonight, okay?” After that, he turned around and asked people to remove the signboards and explained to the guests. “My wife just had a miscarriage. She was in a bad mood and said the wrong thing. Don’t misunderstand her. Sorry to bother you.” He defined my behavior with just a few simple words. I pushed his hand away and said coldly, “Since the gift has been delivered, I will not disturb you three. Remember to tell Melanie to be careful. Don’t be locked in the kitchen and have a miscarriage like me!”

Zach chased after me. Before he could speak, a woman’s delicate voice cried out in pain behind him. “Zach, don’t worry about me. Go comfort Winona.” Zach struggled for a second. “Winona, be good. Melanie is having a hard time because of her pregnancy. Go home.” Then he went back, picked up Melanie, and ran towards the elevator, looking panicked. “Get out of the way!” He pushed me away. The pain in my lower abdomen reminded me that my husband once again chose to hurt me for another woman. The elevator door slowly closed in front of me, but I didn’t miss the flash of pride and malice in Melanie’s eyes. I went home. The dining table was full of pregnancy books, and every page was carefully marked. The notebook next to the book recorded every detail of the precautions for pregnant women at every stage. This love was for me before Melanie asked Zach to donate sperm to her. The latest note was yesterday, which read: [Winona’s miscarriage scared Melanie. I have to pay attention to Melanie’s mood these days.] [Melanie wants to invite Winona to the party. I need to pay special attention to Winona tomorrow and don’t let her make trouble.] [Melanie wants to eat Meatball. Remember to ask Winona to make it for her tomorrow.] I was the protagonist of this note before. Zach recorded the growth of our baby and was looking forward to the baby. But now, he was only looking forward to Melanie’s child. I suddenly thought of the day when I had a miscarriage. Melanie showed off to me excitedly with the prenatal examination report. “Winona, Zach went through a lot to donate sperm for me. You have to take good care of him.” Zach looked at her with a doting face and ordered me to make soup for her. “Make something nutritious for Melanie. She is only three months pregnant. You need to take good care of her.” I couldn’t stop nausea and vomiting because of the smell in the kitchen. But no matter how I begged, Zach ignored me. He locked the kitchen door and said condescendingly, “Be good. You are also a pregnant woman. How can you have no empathy? Don’t come out before you finish.” Halfway through the dish, I felt severe abdominal pain and begged him to let me go to the hospital. But he threw me a bottle of expired anti-inflammatory medicine. “Don’t pretend, Winona. Take medicine if you are sick. Don’t disturb me and Melanie.” Melanie turned up the speakers to the maximum and pestered Zach to dance with her. Thinking of this, I wiped my tears, called the lawyer, and made an appointment for a divorce consultation the next day.

The next morning, Zach came home reeking of perfume. He hugged me from behind and whispered, “Baby, don’t be sad. We will have kids again. The most important thing now is that you recover as soon as possible and then take care of Melanie with me.” He coaxed me with a soft voice. “I bought you your favorite soup. Drink some.” In Zach’s eyes, I was someone who could be coaxed with a bowl of soup. He hurt me and then coaxed me. Zach knew this well over the years. But I was really tired. I pushed him away with nausea. “I just had a miscarriage because of Melanie, but you held a banquet to celebrate her pregnancy and asked me to take care of her. Zach, do you really think you are right?” He was stunned for a moment, and then his expression changed. “Winona, this is your attitude? I bought you breakfast early in the morning and came back to coax you, and you talked to me like this?” His cell phone suddenly lit up, and a nursery rhyme sounded. That was the exclusive ringtone he had set for Melanie. “Baby, if you’re not hungry, take some rest.” Zach left in a hurry with his phone. The door closed heavily, and the room fell into silence. The door panel was not soundproof, and the sound of him singing nursery rhymes to Melanie pierced my heart like countless knives. Before I was about to leave, Zach had just hung up the phone. Seeing that I was going out, he asked in confusion, “Where are you going? Melanie wants to eat cake. You can stop by the store in the West District to buy one cake. If you want to eat, buy two cakes.” I pressed the door handle, turned back, and said calmly, “Zach, let’s get a divorce.” He frowned and sighed, rubbing his temples. “Are you done? If you have anything to say, wait until you come back with the cake. Come back quickly. Melanie will be anxious if she waits for a long time.” I raised my voice and repeated it again. “I said I want a divorce.” Zach finally took my words seriously. He looked me up and down for a long time with a scrutinizing look in his eyes. “You are controlled by estrogen now. I understand you are in a bad mood. But you have to be rational. Do you know what you are saying?” The grievances that I have suppressed for a long time could no longer be held back; I slammed the door and yelled, “Rational? Your wife had a miscarriage caused by your mistress, and you went to celebrate your mistress’s pregnancy. Is this rational? Zach, you’ve gone too far!” He felt embarrassed after I said it. He pointed at my nose with his eyes wide open and scolded me, “Winona, are you crazy? Melanie is my friend’s wife, and I just helped her out of pity. Watch your mouth!” Then Zach raised his hand and slapped me hard. I was caught off guard and bumped into the door. My back hit the door lock, and cold sweat ran down my face. “Baby!” Zach looked at his hand with some regret and hurried over to help me up. “I’m sorry, Baby. I lost control.” I stood up against the wall, my heart aching. “Don’t touch me! ” Zach was a little embarrassed with his hands freezing in air. He moved his fingers slightly and then retracted them. “You rest at home. I’ll go buy cakes.” After he left, I removed the memory card of the surveillance camera in the living room and called the police.

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After seven years of a secret relationship, Teresa Fields’ boyfriend was promoted to vice president of the company. But instead of a proposal, she found a pair of black stockings in his car, left behind by an intern. The girl called him right in front of her, her voice sweet and coy. “Mr. Barron, I need to take a half-day sick leave tomorrow. My boyfriend… went too far, and now, I’m not feeling too well. I think I might be injured.” Later, he used overtime as an excuse to brush her off, only to turn around and openly flirt with the intern on Instagram. Without a second thought, Teresa deleted his contact information and blocked him, wiping out the last seven years of their relationship. She left behind only one message: [We’re done.] And then, she vanished from his world completely. When she reappeared, she was a famous heiress, walking beside her elegant and refined fiancé. He bowed to her, his eyes red, pleading, “Teresa, I know I was wrong. Please come back to me.” The man who had once seemed so out of reach immediately stepped in, shielding her from him. “Mr. Barron, you should be addressing her as Mrs. Crawford now.” When the plane landed, Teresa turned on her phone. As expected, she received a call from her mother, Laura Fields. “You promised to think for half a month about marrying Mr. Chandler. So…” “I agree,” Teresa replied, without slowing down as she grabbed her suitcase. Her tone was firm. There was silence over the phone. After half a minute, Laura finally spoke again, “Are you sure.” “Yes.” “You should have broken up with that poor guy a long time ago.” Laura sounded satisfied and was about to hang up, but Teresa spoke again, “But you’ll need to wait another week.” “What, have you changed your mind already?” “No, don’t worry about it. Just do as I say.” With that, Teresa ended the call and opened the chat with her boyfriend, Clarence Barron, sending a message: [I’ve landed. Where’s your car?] It wasn’t until she was halfway through her taxi ride that she finally received his reply: [I’m working late. Can’t pick you up. Take a cab.] Teresa’s expression didn’t change as she closed the chat and locked her phone. This was the fifteenth time in the past two months that Clarence had used overtime as an excuse. They worked at the same company. Though their positions were far apart, they still kept in touch. Teresa knew better than anyone that Clarence didn’t have any new projects lately. The only change in recent months was the arrival of a new intern. Her name was Janice Gordon, a young woman in her early twenties, as charming as a flower. The most impressive thing about Janice was that on her very first day at work, she proudly displayed a photo of herself with Alfred and Laura Gordon on her desk. They were the founders of Gordon Group, worth billions of dollars. Janice shared the surname with Alfred, so the connection was obvious. Teresa leaned her head against the window, watching the lights outside blur past. It was beautiful and vibrant but fleeting, just like the love she had given over the past seven years. Her phone buzzed, pulling her back to the present. It was a message from her colleague, Shirley Archer. It was a screenshot of Janice’s Instagram. In the picture, Janice looked youthful and playful, puckering her lips while covering her face, adorable to the extreme. The caption read, “The theme of today after work is overtime and butterflies in my stomach.” The first like on the post was from her boyfriend, Clarence, the vice president. Teresa stared at the screen, lost in thought, when Shirley immediately followed up with a message, calling Clarence and Janice a jerk and a shameless girl. [I purposely went to Clarence’s office earlier to ask why he wasn’t at the airport to pick you up. Guess what? I found Janice in his office! You won’t believe what she said. “Teresa is an adult. She should know to give us space.”] [I swear, I wanted to slap her across the face and tattoo homewrecker on her forehead.] Teresa replied in a calm tone: [Don’t get upset. It’s not worth it.] Shirley quickly replied: [How can you not be upset? That’s your boyfriend of seven years. What is she, a nobody?] Seeing that Teresa didn’t respond, Shirley kept typing: [Teresa, seriously, are you okay? Don’t bottle up your anger. If you’re angry, just let it out. Don’t hurt yourself by holding it in.] Teresa sighed softly and replied: [I’m fine.] Then, she put her phone away. She didn’t tell Shirley that, in truth, she wasn’t angry anymore because she had already been angry. She’d been angry the first time Clarence had used overtime as an excuse to create opportunities to be alone with Janice. She had been angry when he’d stood her up and failed to even give her a heads-up, leaving her to wait, sometimes in heavy rain. She had been angry when, just a few days ago, at a company party, she had been handling difficult clients for him while he secretly sneaked off to hook up with Janice in the lounge. By then, Teresa’s heart had already been sinking, little by little, into a pit of despair. Now, watching Clarence openly flirt with Janice, she had become numb to it all. Teresa, who had once loved Clarence with all her heart, was fading, bit by bit, over the past two months. And tonight, her decision to break up was final. But Clarence still hadn’t noticed.

Clarence didn’t return until the early hours of the morning, by which time Teresa had already fallen asleep. She was a light sleeper, and as soon as he stepped through the door, she heard him. His footsteps weren’t heavy. He seemed to be trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb her. Finally, he stopped by the bed, leaned over, and kissed the back of her neck gently. “Can’t sleep?” Teresa’s eyelashes fluttered, but she didn’t open her eyes. Clarence chuckled, the sound vibrating lightly in his chest. “So, you’re mad at me for not picking you up today.” His arm slid around her from behind, his hand slipping under her nightshirt. Teresa finally opened her eyes. “You didn’t shower.” “You don’t like it?” Clarence teased his voice full of affection. He reluctantly let go and sat up. “Well, fine.” His footsteps moved away, and Teresa turned over, watching his tall, confident figure disappear into the bathroom. His steps were light. His mood seemed good. She wasn’t sure if it was because he had come home to see her or if it was due to the flirtations that had taken place at the office earlier that evening. Teresa gave a bitter laugh. It was probably the latter. Perhaps even Clarence had forgotten, but Teresa remembered clearly. Seven years ago, when they first got together, just a simple “Come pick me up” from her was enough for him to ride his bike across half the city and show up downstairs in the middle of the night. In winter, with the cold wind biting, his hands had gotten frostbite. She felt both heartbroken and guilty, asking him why he didn’t buy gloves. He’d immediately replied, “I’m saving money to buy you a branded down jacket.” It was that one sentence that made Teresa cry. Clarence, in a flurry, had wiped her tears away while comforting her, “Once I make it big, I won’t let you suffer even a little.” He did become successful, but the promise he made back then had long been forgotten along the way. The sound of running water from the bathroom stopped. Teresa felt the bed sink beside her, and his warm body pressed up against her back. He expertly pulled down the strap of her nightshirt. His needs had always been high, and even after seven years together, he hadn’t lost interest. The past two months had been no different. But this time, Teresa’s body tensed, and she instinctively pulled away from him. “Stop it.” Clarence froze. “What’s wrong?” “I’m not feeling well.” “Oh, period again?” Clarence didn’t remember when her period was, so he didn’t realize that in the span of just one month, she had claimed to be on twice. In fact, ever since that day when she had found a pair of black stockings in his car, Teresa had developed a deep resistance to such things. The irony was that, at the time, she didn’t even know the woman was Janice. On the road, Clarence had even answered Janice’s call right in front of her. The phone was on speaker, and Clarence’s first words were. “It’s after work hours. I’m with my family. Get to the point.” Janice, over the phone, had been clearly stunned before she spoke in a pitiful tone, “Mr. Barron, I need to take a sick day tomorrow.” “You’ll need to provide a medical certificate.” “I will. I’m going to see a doctor. My boyfriend… went too far, and now, I’m not feeling well. I think I might be injured.” Teresa had been shocked at Janice’s bluntness at the time. But later, when she thought back on it, the disgust had only deepened. The two of them had been flirting right in front of her, enjoying the thrill of cheating under her very nose. In the daze, Clarence had already turned her face toward him. In the darkness, everything seemed to fade away, leaving only his deep eyes staring intently at her. Teresa couldn’t stand that look. She turned her head away. “I said I’m not feeling well…” But Clarence held her chin, his fingers lightly brushing over her rosy lips. “There’s more than one way to do this, and this isn’t our first time. No need to be shy, right?” Teresa’s body went rigid. In the past, whenever he wanted, she would do everything she could to please him. She was willing to do anything for the man she loved. But everything had changed without her even realizing it. Now, looking back, she only felt foolish. If she kept going down this path, she wouldn’t even be able to respect herself anymore.

Teresa ultimately rejected Clarence. Clarence didn’t press her, though he was confused. He didn’t ask any further questions, choosing instead to think that Teresa was just in a bad mood due to her period. The next day, while having lunch in the company cafeteria, Teresa suddenly told Shirley, “Shirley, I’ve resigned. My last day is in a week.” Shirley was caught off guard, her hand trembling slightly, but she quickly recovered and said, “It’s a good idea to get a new job. Changing the environment can make a difference. “With your skills, if you hadn’t spent all these years helping Clarence, you’d probably have been more than just a department manager by now.” Shirley was the one who knew best about the past between them. Over the years, Teresa had kept her relationship with Clarence private to avoid suspicion. She had even passed up two promotions, always listening to Clarence’s advice. He’d told her not to rush. He’d once said that with his salary of millions of dollars, he could support her even if she decided to quit her job. Those words had once given Teresa a great sense of security, but now, in hindsight, they felt nothing but bitter and empty. “By the way, where are you going to work?” Shirley casually asked. Teresa poked at her food, no longer enjoying it. “I don’t have a new job lined up.” This time, Shirley disagreed. “Quitting without another job lined up? That’s risky.” Teresa didn’t respond. Since the decision was already made, Shirley didn’t want to make things uncomfortable for her. “It’s fine. Take some time off, and when you’re feeling better, you can look for a new job.” Teresa suddenly looked up, her eyes clear and calm as she met Shirley’s gaze. “Shirley, haven’t you thought about it? I’m quitting to go back and take over the family business.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Shirley burst out laughing. “Teresa, I didn’t know you had such a good sense of humor!” Teresa smiled, too, and then looked down and continued poking at her food, not saying anything else. Her clothes, shoes, and jewelry… there was nothing on her that looked valuable. Not only Shirley but even Clarence had never doubted her claim of having an ordinary background. After finishing their meal, they were about to leave when suddenly, there was a commotion in the corner of the cafeteria. Teresa looked in the direction everyone was staring, and her gaze immediately froze. It was Clarence, holding a woman in his arms, rushing out. He held her so tightly that Teresa couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu, as if the woman in his arms was his girlfriend. As they passed by, Teresa saw the woman’s face clearly. It was Janice. She was crying uncontrollably, her face pressed against Clarence’s chest, her tears soaking his white shirt. Teresa instinctively opened her mouth, Clarence’s name almost slipping out, but in the end, she held back. At that moment, when Clarence looked down at Janice, Teresa saw nothing but urgency and concern in his eyes. He didn’t even notice her standing right there. Teresa turned her gaze away, her mind blank for a few seconds. The old Clarence wouldn’t have let any other girl sit on the back of his bike. She had once witnessed him refuse someone. He said, “This is my girlfriend’s. She doesn’t like sharing things with others.” But now, he was holding another woman in his arms. “What’s wrong with Janice?” “Looks like she slipped in the cafeteria and sprained her ankle.” People around them were gossiping. Shirley overheard and rolled her eyes. “She just sprained her ankle. Why is she crying like that? Anyone would think she lost her mom. What a drama queen.” Teresa stood silently, her gaze unconsciously falling on her lower legs. During a recent business trip, she had slipped on the stairs and twisted her ankle. She even sent Clarence a photo of it. She had also sent him a message: [I’m not feeling well.] Clarence didn’t reply until the next morning: [Drink more water.] She wasn’t even sure if he had looked at the photo. Otherwise, how could he have responded with such a bland message? “Do you think Mr. Barron has fallen for Janice?” “Looks like it. Tsk, tsk, our company’s top bachelor won’t be available anymore.” “But the top bachelor is Mr. Crawford, not Mr. Barron.” “Mr. Crawford? Don’t even dream. He’s on the wealth list. We’re not even in the same league.” The crowd eventually dispersed, gossiping in pairs, leaving Teresa still standing where she was. What kept replaying in her mind was the sight of Clarence holding Janice, his concern so obvious, and the whispers from those around her. The saddest thing, perhaps, wasn’t her heartbreak. It was that no one in the world even knew about it.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397554”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Cheating #Betrayal #regret

“Julius, I’m done with playing around. Honestly, an arranged marriage might not be that bad.” “Let’s set the wedding with the Martin family for a week from now.” Abigail Garcia’s gentle voice echoed in the hospital room, cutting through the sharp smell of antiseptic. On the other end of the line, her older brother, Julius Garcia, chuckled. “What’s going on with you? Did you break up with your mysterious boyfriend?” “I told you, what kind of decent guy could there be in Virelia? You’ve been there for seven years. What’s kept you hanging around?” A sharp pain shot up Abigail’s arm as the doctor cleaned the wound with saline. She stared at her toes, her voice shaking with the pain. “I know, I know, I messed up. But this time, I’m serious. Once I get my master’s degree next week, I’ll come back and go through with the marriage. Please, just… stop lecturing me.” As the only girl in the Garcia family, Abigail was treated like a precious gem, doted on by everyone. Hearing the frustration and guilt in her voice softened Julius’ heart. “Alright, alright, I won’t say anything else. By the way, do you have any requests for the wedding? Just send them to me, and I’ll pass them on to the Martin family.” “Also, I’ll give your number to Theodore right now. You two should probably talk before the wedding.” Abigail bit her lip. “Okay.” After she hung up, the doctor finished cleaning her wound. He glanced at the gash on her arm, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Miss, you can’t keep being this reckless. You took the knife for love, but look at this wound. It nearly hit your artery and tendon. If the knife had gone just a little deeper, you could have been seriously hurt. You could’ve died.” Earlier that afternoon, Abigail had taken a knife for her boyfriend, George Clark. George had gone out to a gathering with friends, and Abigail realized he had forgotten his cross necklace at home. So, she rushed to bring it to him. But when she entered the private room, she saw George and his friend, Samuel Robinson, in a heated argument. By chance, Samuel had just picked up a fruit knife from the table. Without thinking, Abigail threw herself in front of George to shield him. Her forearm was slashed, and the fight ended there. By the time she arrived at the hospital, she overheard a conversation outside the treatment room. “George, Abigail risked her life for you, and you still won’t marry her?” It was one of George’s friends speaking up for Abigail. George was silent for a long moment. “Abigail deliberately jumped in front of the knife, hoping to use marriage as a reward.” “Otherwise, why would she have stepped in the second Samuel pulled out the knife? What a coincidence, huh?” The words hit Abigail like a ton of bricks. The pain in her heart was worse than the physical pain in her arm. After seven years of being together, George really thought she was trying to manipulate him into marriage with this gesture. She whispered to the doctor, “Thank you, doctor. I promise, I won’t do something this stupid again.” The doctor sighed and began stitching her up. The sound of the needle and thread passing through her skin was painfully clear in the quiet room. Abigail tried to distract herself by looking out the window at the chattering sparrows. But then, George’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and it stung. “If it weren’t for Freya, I might have overlooked Abigail’s little tricks. I might’ve even proposed to her for taking the knife for me.” “But now that Freya’s back, I need some time to think about our relationship…” Abigail suddenly remembered when she entered the room earlier, George had been holding a beautiful woman in his arms. She was dressed in a tight, fiery red dress with a lot of skin showing. George had his arm around her, and she was pressed close to him, her chest squashed against his. The doctor, thinking Abigail was in pain, leaned in and said softly, “Hang in there. It’ll be over soon.” Abigail nodded, but her eyes were already red. Now everything made sense. George had been acting distracted lately, always on his phone. He’d even forgotten his beloved cross necklace this morning. It was because Freya Williams had returned. Abigail lowered her head, staring at the bloodstained gauze on the table. For the first time, she realized how pointless these seven years of love had been. And at that moment, she was more certain than ever that calling her brother about the arranged marriage was definitely the smartest decision she had made in a long time.

Abigail and George met seven years ago. It all started when Abigail, fresh out of high school, made a mistake on her university application and ended up in George’s city. George was actually Julius’ college roommate. Concerned about Abigail being on her own in a new place, Julius asked George to look out for her. Without a second thought, George offered Abigail a place in one of his vacant, luxury apartments. He came from a good family, and he was good-looking, not as stiff and serious as her brother. George was charismatic and loved to tease Abigail with harmless jokes. His attention and care for her even surpassed her brother’s. Every weekend, he took her out to eat, drink, and have fun. He also paid attention to the little things, like her period and always keeping painkillers on hand for her. He even secretly remembered her clothing sizes, so when he picked out outfits for her, they always fit perfectly. Over time, Abigail started to develop feelings for him. But there was a problem. George was in love with someone else. Her name was Freya, a bright and lively woman who had George completely enchanted. Abigail thought she and George would never be more than friends. But one rainy night, George showed up at her door, soaked to the bone and dragging a suitcase behind him. Freya had left him to chase her dreams abroad, and George couldn’t bear to be alone in his empty apartment, so he moved into the place Abigail was staying at for some company. That night, as Abigail handed him a glass of water, George pulled her into his arms. “So, you’re this happy that Freya left? Don’t tell me you’re falling for me.” Caught off guard, Abigail blushed and tried to pull away, but he kept her close. His cold lips brushed across her forehead and cheeks, then found hers, warm and soft. They lingered, and soon, he kissed her deeper, exploring every inch of her skin. Completely unprepared for this, Abigail quickly became lost in the moment, overwhelmed by sensations she didn’t know how to handle. The next morning, she was bursting to tell her brother about her relationship with George. But before she could, George stopped her. He whispered, his voice rough and seductive, “If Julius finds out I’ve stolen his precious sister away, he’s going to think I’m taking advantage of you. You know how he is. He’ll probably kill me.” Because of that, Abigail decided to keep the relationship a secret from her family. After finishing her undergrad, she stayed in the city with George to pursue her graduate studies. Her family didn’t understand, though. Julius even called George to ask about it. “George, have you seen Abigail lately? She’s insisting on staying in Virelia for grad school. Is some guy behind this?” “We’ve never minded her dating, but this guy sounds shady. No one’s even seen his face yet!” At that moment, Abigail was lying in George’s arms. He smirked and casually replied, “Your sister has a boyfriend? News to me. I’ll look into it for you.” After hanging up, he started unbuttoning Abigail’s shirt. She grabbed his hands to stop him, meeting his intense gaze. “George, do you really love me?” He chuckled lightly, “Little princess, what are you thinking? If I don’t love you, what do you think we’d be doing right now? And why would I have stayed with you for seven years?” A warm feeling filled Abigail’s chest as she carefully asked, “Then, after I graduate, let’s go meet my parents and Julius. Let’s make this official. Okay?” He buried his face in her neck, his voice soft and steady. “Sure, whatever you want.” With those words, Abigail thought everything between them was set in stone. But now, with just seven days left until they were supposed to go public, everything had changed because Freya had returned.

As the doctor finished stitching her wound, Abigail’s phone buzzed with a message. She picked it up and saw that it was from Theodore, with a formal and straightforward message. [Hello, Abigail. This is Theodore.] Abigail didn’t respond right away. Instead, she scrolled through his social media posts. There were only a few, but they gave her a glimpse into his life. As her brother had mentioned, he was exceptionally good-looking. His features were well-proportioned, and his taste was sophisticated. He was even easier on the eyes than George. Abigail found herself staring at the screen when George walked in. Since the doctor was done, he took her hand and led her downstairs. Along the way, he asked her three times if her wound hurt, but each time, she shook her head. George found it odd. “You’re really that tough now? I still remember when you got a tiny cut on your finger, and you cried in my arms for ages. Were you faking it back then?” His tone was teasing but still affectionate, just like usual. If Abigail hadn’t overheard his earlier conversation, she would’ve never guessed that George’s feelings for her had already started to change. Abigail nodded slightly. “Yeah, I was faking it before.” The truth was, she was scared of pain, but she didn’t want to show it anymore. She didn’t want George thinking she was playing the damsel in distress, trying to guilt-trip him into marriage. George was taken aback by her honest response. Seeing how tired she looked, he thought she was still shaken up. “Don’t worry. Samuel hurt you today, and I won’t let him get away with it.” Abigail looked at him. “Why not just call the police?” George’s expression shifted slightly. “Let’s not do that. He’s a friend.” Thinking about how Samuel had been nice to her before, Abigail bit her lip. “Up to you.” George let out a breath of relief. As he adjusted Abigail’s seatbelt, he noticed the cross necklace still clutched in her palm. Abigail had walked across town four years ago to buy it from a small shop. She wasn’t into superstitions, but her friends swore it brought luck. She’d gotten it just for him. Since then, his life had been pretty charmed. Today was the first time he’d forgotten to wear it. Now it was covered in Abigail’s blood. George’s lip curled. “Why are you holding onto this thing? It’s filthy.” He gently pried her fingers open and tossed the necklace out the window. It fell into the grass, disappearing from view. Abigail let out a bitter laugh but said nothing. From now on, George had Freya and didn’t need anything from her anymore. Halfway through the drive, George’s phone suddenly rang. He glanced at the red light ahead, picking up the call. A languid, almost sultry voice came through the receiver. “George, is your little girlfriend’s wound all taken care of?” Abigail knew that voice anywhere. It was Freya. George paused for a moment, then looked over at Abigail. She was focused on texting Theodore, seemingly ignoring his phone call. George quickly replied into the phone, “It’s done. I’ll be there soon. Just wait for me.” He turned the steering wheel and pulled the car over to the side of the road. “Abigail, there’s an important client arriving at the company, and I need to pick them up right away. I can only drop you off here. Will you be okay taking a taxi back?” Without saying a word, Abigail unbuckled her seatbelt and nodded. “Okay.”

Abigail reached for the car door, but George stopped her again, his eyes scanning her face. “You are unhappy. What’s wrong? Upset with me?” “Relax. Even though my client’s a woman, you don’t have to worry. I’d never cross the line.” Abigail forced a smile, her voice light. “I know. Just one more week, and after I get my diploma, I’ll tell my family about us. I trust you, really.” The warmth in George’s smile faded slightly. “Good girl. Head home now, and text me when you get there.” With that, his car sped off, disappearing into the night. Abigail flagged down a cab, and when she got home, she went straight to her bedroom. Her bedroom was a plushie paradise, with stuffed animals covering every surface. George always teased her about being childish, but he never tried to discourage her from expanding her collection. He even wore those silly cartoon PJs she got him without complaint. Every time she saw his exasperated yet indulgent expression, it gave her a sense of satisfaction she couldn’t quite explain. She used to think it was proof of his love for her. But now, as she looked back on it, maybe it was just him treating her like a little sister. Taking a deep breath, Abigail grabbed some large bags, intending to pack away all the stuffed animals. But just as she started, her phone buzzed with a call from George. She hesitated. It wasn’t like him to call so soon. When she answered, there was no greeting, just the sound of a woman’s heavy breathing mixed with broken words of pleading. “George… slower… please…” His voice came next, low and strained. “You’ve been gone for seven years. Now that you’re back, I can’t help myself. How can I go easy on you?” The woman let out a soft laugh. “Really? I thought you’d gotten your fill while living with Abigail. What’s the matter? She can’t keep up with you?” George’s tone hardened instantly. “She’s just a kid. What would she know?” Rhythmic sounds followed, growing more intense, accompanied by the woman’s breathless moans. Then came a muffled groan from him, and the line abruptly went dead. The beeping of the disconnected call echoed in Abigail’s ears. Her phone slipped from her trembling hands and fell to the floor with a loud thud. It took her a moment to process what had just happened. But when she did, it hit her like a slap in the face. She had just overheard George in bed with another woman. Her chest felt like it had been ripped open, the pain so sharp she collapsed onto the bed. She knew Freya was back. But she hadn’t expected them to waste no time picking up where they left off. His words from the call replayed in her mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. Just a kid? That’s it? With shaking hands, Abigail grabbed her phone. Acting on instinct, she opened a long-forgotten burner Twitter account. Seven years ago, back when George was still with Freya, Abigail had been curious about the woman he loved. She’d created the account to quietly follow Freya’s posts, sneaking peeks into her life. When Freya went abroad and stopped updating, Abigail had put the account aside, convinced that her relationship with George was solid and secure. But tonight, a new post appeared on Freya’s feed. Her breath caught as she clicked it open. It wasn’t just a picture but a two-second video. The clip didn’t show faces, but the story was clear, a woman’s neck covered in love bites, two hands entwined, and unmistakable movements that left no doubt about what they were doing. Abigail’s hands shook as she replayed it. This time, she caught a fleeting glimpse of the man’s face. It was blurry, barely visible. But the sound of his voice in the background and the star-shaped tattoo on his wrist were clear. It was George. Below the post was a short caption: [Still my man.]

The comments section exploded with chatter. [Freya, are you saying George is still as charming and capable as he was seven years ago?] [Wow, I can practically picture the scene!] Abigail’s vision blurred with tears as she replayed the video on loop, dissecting every detail, every sound, like she was punishing herself. She could hear Freya’s flirtatious laughter, followed by George’s deep, breathy groan, the same one she’d just heard over the phone. It all felt so vivid, so real, like the comments weren’t exaggerating. She could almost smell the air in that room, heavy and damp with intimacy. A sharp doorbell chime snapped her back to reality. It was the takeout she’d ordered earlier. Her cheeks felt cold. Wiping her face, she realized it was wet with tears. She accepted the food but couldn’t bring herself to eat it. Just the thought made her stomach churn. After splashing cold water on her face in the bathroom, she dumped the untouched takeout straight into the trash. Then, she stuffed her collection of plush toys into a bag and dragged it to the storage room. Next, she began moving her things out of the master bedroom and into the guest room. She worked mindlessly, hoping the monotony would dull the ache in her chest. Her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her daze. It was a photo from Theodore. In the picture, a clean, minimalist desk was bathed in soft light. A laptop screen glowed faintly, a plate of spaghetti sat neatly beside it, and a well-defined hand rested near the keyboard. Beneath it was a single line of text. [Have you eaten yet?] Through the window in the background, the city lights twinkled like stars, painting a peaceful scene. But the beautiful view only made her heart ache more. Why couldn’t she have fallen for someone like this? Someone composed, steady, and dependable? Her tears fell faster now, splashing onto her phone screen. On impulse, she opened the takeout app and ordered herself a plate of spaghetti. When it arrived, she snapped a photo and sent it to Theodore. They exchanged a few casual messages while eating. Somehow, her empty stomach felt a little less hollow, and the suffocating sadness from earlier started to ease. The next morning, just as Abigail got out of bed, Julius sent her a message. [Abby, don’t forget to invite George to the wedding.] She stared at the screen, hesitating for a moment before replying. [He’s been super busy lately. I don’t think he’ll make it. Honestly, I’ve already bothered him enough. Let’s just leave him out of it. No need to make him spend more money, right?] The door suddenly opened, and George walked in. Abigail quickly tucked her phone away. By the time she stepped out of the bedroom, he had already slipped on his slippers and set down the things he was carrying on the table. Abigail glanced at the star tattoo on his wrist, a mark he’d gotten when he was in a passionate relationship with Freya. It used to bother her, but now, as she looked at it, it just felt ugly. Noticing her change in expression, George pulled her gently into his arms. “Your eyes are swollen. Did you cry because you missed me?” Abigail lowered her gaze and blinked, trying to ease the dryness in her eyes. “My wound hurts a little.” It wasn’t just her arm that hurt. Her heart was aching too. George took her fingers in his hand and kissed them gently. “You’ve been through so much.” The memory of his lips on another woman’s the night before made Abigail pull her hand away. George, thinking it was because of her injury, asked, “Were you texting Julius? I heard something about a wedding. Abigail, don’t tell me you went ahead and announced our relationship and had Julius start planning the wedding?” His tone was soft, but there was an unmistakable edge of concern. Abigail met his gaze. The face she once found so captivating, sharp and defined, now seemed strangely distant. She replied quietly, “You still don’t want to go public, right? I didn’t say anything. It’s just my best friend’s wedding. My brother told me to come.” George’s tension eased. He didn’t even question why her brother was the one telling her about the wedding and not her best friend. He smiled and ruffled her hair. “I knew you wouldn’t try to rush me into marriage. You know me. I don’t like being forced into anything.” Abigail nodded, her expression steady. “I understand.” She did understand. And that was why, to respect his wishes, she was now planning to marry someone else. George hesitated for a moment. “But, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. I probably won’t be able to go with you.” He was busy, of course, because Freya had returned. He had to keep her entertained, surprise her. Abigail understood that all too well, so she casually pushed his hand off her waist. “It’s fine. I’ll go by myself.” George found her reaction a bit odd. After all, in the past, whenever they were together, Abigail would practically hang on him, always asking for kisses and affection. Then, there was the fact that she had just come from the guest room. George felt something was off. He shifted into a teasing tone, trying to break the tension. “What’s this? Not sleeping in the big bed when I’m not home? Moved to the guest room instead?”

Abigail didn’t say anything and just turned to wash up. George followed her closely, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “Are you mad at me? I drank too much with a client last night, and my assistant went ahead and booked me a hotel room.” But she caught the scent of unfamiliar perfume on him, and his eyes were too clear for someone who’d been drunk. No hangover in sight. Abigail shifted uncomfortably and mumbled, “It’s fine.” George nuzzled her neck, his face brushing against her skin. “I know I messed up. I won’t stay out all night again. Give me a kiss, go wash up, and then come eat breakfast.” Abigail sighed, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then pulled away and went to freshen up. By the time she came out, George had already set up the breakfast. It looked delicious, all of Abigail’s favorites. There weren’t many places in Virelia that sold Kolache, and this one was far from where they lived, but it was close to the address Freya had posted on Twitter. George gave her a lovely wink, almost as if he were showing off. “So, do you like it?” “I do,” Abigail replied. If she hadn’t just seen the same breakfast on Freya’s Twitter a few minutes ago, she might have liked it even more. George went to take a shower. Abigail stared at the breakfast, now cold on the table, with no appetite. While George was still in the shower, she quietly threw everything in the trash. When she came back, she accidentally knocked George’s jacket off the chair. As she bent down to pick it up, she felt something hard in the pocket. Curious, she pulled it out, finding it was a box of opened condoms. It was George’s favorite brand. There were five in the box, but only one left. Abigail froze, like she’d been splashed with cold water. After a long pause, she set the box down on the coffee table. George had used four of them last night. She remembered how intense he’d been with her, and they barely even had sex twice in one night. Abigail sat down on the sofa, her mind a mess, and she couldn’t stop herself from imagining George with Freya. Her thoughts flicked to Freya’s post and then the comment asking if George was still as capable as before. George came out of the shower and noticed Abigail sitting on the couch, deep in thought. As he walked over, his eyes immediately landed on the box of condoms on the coffee table. He froze for a second, unsure how it came there. Then, a sly smile appeared on his face as he quickly thought of a way to deflect the situation. He walked over and teased, “What’s this? You haven’t seen me for a whole night, and now you’re already in the mood?” He leaned in to kiss her. Abigail gently pushed him away and glanced at his jacket, trying to stay calm. “This isn’t from our place. I found it in your jacket pocket just now.” “My jacket?” His face showed confusion, and after a moment, he seemed to figure it out. “Oh, right. We were playing truth or dare last night. I ended up with the dare to bring home an opened condom.” “If you don’t believe me, I can call them right now, and you can ask.” Abigail, feeling a bit mischievous, decided to play along. “Go ahead. Call them. I’ll ask.” In an instant, George’s face fell. “Wait, Abigail, you’re really going to make me do that? I have plenty of friends, you want me to embarrass myself?” “Alright, that’s enough. I’ve been trying to calm you down all morning, and now you’re still not letting it go?” He grabbed the box and tossed it into the trash with a huff. “Abigail, I’ve told you before. I don’t like being forced into things, whether it’s in marriage or in a relationship.” “Stop pushing me so hard, alright?” He stormed off to the bedroom, clearly irritated. Abigail sat there, a tight knot forming in her chest. It was George who had suggested calling to clear his name, but now that she agreed, he turned it around and said she was being too much. She was about to retreat to the guest room when George suddenly appeared again, storming out of the bedroom. “Abigail, what happened to the things in the room? The toys? Where are they?” Abigail winced as she rubbed her sore arm. “You’ve always said those toys were childish, so I threw them out.” George gave her a skeptical look. “Then what about your stuff? Your skincare, your pajamas… where are they?” “Abigail, just because I didn’t come home last night, you’re pulling this separation act on me now?” Abigail’s forehead creased, her lips pressing into a thin line. What was going on in his head? Last night, he had spent time with another woman and used four condoms, and now he was back here, acting like everything was fine. The thought of it made her feel sick. With a deep sigh, Abigail spoke, her voice cold, “George, did you forget I’m hurt? Sleeping together would hurt my injury.” Realization flickered in George’s eyes, and guilt washed over his face. He quickly pulled her into his arms, his tone softer now. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that… It’s just that when I saw you cleaning everything out, I panicked…” Abigail turned her head slightly, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Panicked about what? Worried I might leave you?”

George kissed her lips lightly. “You wouldn’t, right?” Abigail nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “Of course not. In a week, the whole world will know you’re my fiancé. At such a crucial time, how could I leave?” George paused, his gaze dropping to the neckline of her shirt. The atmosphere in the room shifted, growing warmer. His hand slid around her waist, tugging her shirt up as his fingers found their way underneath. His hand, warm and firm, traced the soft curve of her waist. He leaned in close, his voice low in her ear. “Let’s go to the bedroom. I’ll be careful. I won’t touch your wound.” A chill ran through Abigail. She quickly pushed him away. “I’m on my period.” George looked disappointed, letting out a long sigh. He turned and walked toward the kitchen. “I’ll make you a cup of brown sugar water.” Abigail watched him leave, her heart heavy. He still looked like the thoughtful boyfriend she knew. But this man, who had always kept track of her cycle, had forgotten today. It had only been a week since her last period. After drinking the brown sugar water, Abigail went to wash the dishes. When she came out of the kitchen, George was in the walk-in closet, picking out clothes. But on the living room table, there was an emerald ring. The gem gleamed, a deep, vivid green. Abigail immediately recognized it, which was the ring George’s grandmother had left behind, meant for his future wife. It had always been locked in the safe in the master bedroom, a safe only George had the code to for his most precious things. But today, he’d taken it out. Abigail felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Just as she was about to ask, George’s voice cut through the air. “Abigail, don’t touch that! It’s not for you!” He rushed over, his footsteps quick and flustered. His tie was half-done, hanging crookedly around his neck. Abigail noticed the marks on his neck, faint and unmistakable. Before she could process what she’d seen, George snatched up the ring and quickly placed it in a delicate gift box he’d pulled from the closet. Seeing her confusion, he hurriedly added, “I’m just sending it out to be cleaned.” Abigail lowered her eyes, her voice quiet. “Alright.” After sending George out, Abigail started sorting through the gifts he had given her over the years. She arranged for a secondhand service to pick everything up, exchanging it all for over three million dollars. With the money in hand, she grabbed the stuffed animals she had cleared out the day before and headed to an orphanage on the outskirts of town. The first time Abigail had come here was seven years ago when she’d heard that Freya had grown up in this orphanage. After leaving, Freya often donated money and supplies. Feeling a sudden spark of defiance, Abigail started visiting regularly, making her own donations and volunteering. Over time, the children here had come to know her, and the director had become a friend. Today, Abigail donated the three million, along with the stuffed animals. Just as she was preparing to leave, George called. His voice sounded rough, and he asked where she was, insisting on coming with her to the hospital to help change her bandages. Abigail sighed, knowing she couldn’t argue, and agreed. As the call ended, she heard Freya’s laughter in the background. Abigail’s breath hitched, and she couldn’t help but wonder how many condoms George had used with Freya this time. Her stomach churned. She quickly typed out a message to him. [You go ahead with your work. I’ll go on my own.] George replied almost instantly: [I’m done. Your arm’s injured. Don’t drive. Take a cab to the hospital and wait for me there.] Abigail let out a dry laugh. When she arrived at the hospital, George was already there. His shirt was a little wrinkled, and Abigail gave him a quick glance before looking away. After the bandages were changed, George carefully helped her down the stairs. While they waited for the elevator, a voice suddenly called out, “George.” They turned, and Freya appeared in front of them, wearing a low-cut black dress. Her long hair was swept to one side, and her neck bore fresh bite marks. Her look was sultry and confident, making Abigail feel almost childish by comparison. Abigail glanced at George, but his face was stiff, almost as though he didn’t know the woman in front of them. Meanwhile, Freya, with her usual self-assurance, extended her hand to Abigail. “You must be Abigail, right? I’m Freya.” On her wrist was the ring George had taken out for maintenance earlier. Abigail glanced at the ring, her gaze unreadable, then shook Freya’s hand. “Freya, you’re back?” Freya tilted her head, a confident smile playing on her lips. “Yes, I just got back yesterday. George brought me to the hospital. He didn’t tell you?” George cleared his throat, his voice flat. “It’s no big deal. There was no need to mention it to my girlfriend.” Freya chuckled, glancing at him with a teasing look. “Oh, George, I accidentally smeared some lipstick on your collar. How come you didn’t notice?” Abigail followed her gaze, and sure enough, there were lipstick marks on George’s collar and neck. George’s expression immediately soured. Abigail, trying to maintain her composure, smiled lightly, “It’s fine. I’ll have it cleaned when we get home.” Freya bit her lip and smiled knowingly. “Wow, George, your little girlfriend is so well-behaved. By the way, Abigail, I’m here for a checkup, preparing for a baby. What about you?” Abigail’s fingers clenched into a fist, a wave of anger rising in her chest. “So, George plans to have a child with Freya?” she thought bitterly. Before she could say anything, George spoke up. “Ms. Williams, you’re preparing for a baby? Does that mean you’re planning to get married soon?” Freya tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, thinking for a moment. “We’re not quite there yet…” She glanced at George, then leaned over and added, “We’re still in a secret relationship.” Abigail’s face drained of color, and she stumbled slightly. Freya quickly reached out to steady her. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” Abigail pressed her fingers to her temples, her voice barely audible. “It’s nothing. Just some pain from the bandages.” Before she could finish, Freya interrupted, “Oh, I know. You took the knife for George, didn’t you? “Actually, I owe you an apology. Yesterday, George and Samuel got into a fight because of me.”

A wave of shock flashed across Abigail’s eyes. She’d already felt something was off the day before. George and Samuel were supposed to be best friends. She couldn’t understand what had happened to make them resort to a fight. Normally, George would’ve handled it by calling the police, but this time, he’d insisted on solving it privately. So it was because of Freya. George didn’t want to involve the authorities because he didn’t want Abigail to find out that Freya was the cause of the whole mess. Abigail couldn’t keep pretending anymore. She looked at him, pale and trembling, and asked, “What’s really going on?” George saw the color drain from her face and immediately picked her up, heading for the stairs. “I’ll explain when we get home.” He didn’t even wait for the elevator. He took the stairs, practically running. But Freya followed them. “George, you brought me here, and now you’re just going to leave me behind?” George clenched his teeth. “Go back on your own.” Freya’s eyes welled up with tears. “George, I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean it. “Abigail, I’ve been living abroad for so long. I’m not used to the way things are done here. But please believe me, George and I are over. We’re just friends now. “Please, Abigail, let him take me home.” “Just friends? The kind of friends who sleep together?” Abigail thought, but she didn’t say a word. George finally said, “Abigail, Freya has this thing about cleanliness. She doesn’t like taxis. Can we just give her a ride for a little while?” But Abigail wasn’t exactly keen on taxis herself. The past few days, he’d been making her call for one every time. She knew she couldn’t compete with Freya, so she just sighed and gave in. When they got to the parking lot, George helped Abigail into the passenger seat and buckled her in. Freya climbed into the back without a word. George shot her a warning look through the rearview mirror. Freya just grinned, flicking her hair over her shoulder and sticking out her tongue playfully. As they turned a corner, Freya spoke again, “George, Abigail looks pretty pale. Why don’t you drop her off first, then take me?” Abigail closed her eyes, pale and silent, not giving any reaction. George hesitated, then decided to take her home first. Once there, he helped her inside and into the bedroom. Abigail grabbed onto his sleeve. “George, why did you fight with Samuel yesterday?” George sighed softly. “Samuel… He insulted Freya.” He didn’t elaborate, and Abigail didn’t press further. That one sentence told her everything. She felt stupid, not knowing what people might be saying about her. George had fought Samuel over Freya while Abigail had thrown herself in the way to protect him. How ridiculous. Abigail waved her hand dismissively. “Just go.” George looked flustered. “Abigail, don’t be mad. I wasn’t trying to hide things from you. I just… didn’t mean for things to go like this…” Abigail cut him off. “So you’re saying you had no choice? Like with the ring from your grandmother, you gave it to her because you had no other option, right?” George’s face darkened. “The ring… I can explain. Freya needed something for a party, so she borrowed it. Once the event’s over, she’ll give it back. “I figured you wouldn’t wear a ring like that, so I let her borrow it.” Abigail felt a stab of realization. She knew she wasn’t the right person for that ring, and even more so, she wasn’t the right person for George. But she still couldn’t help herself. “So… now that Freya’s back, am I still your girlfriend?” George’s eyes locked onto hers. “Of course you are,” he said firmly. “Of course.” “Then what about Freya?” Abigail pressed. He immediately pulled her close, his body warm against hers. “Abigail, stop overthinking this. You know I’ve been done with her for a while. “We’re just friends now. She just came back to the country and doesn’t have anyone else to rely on, so I’m just helping her out a bit.” Abigail thought to herself bitterly, “When it came to Freya, you’d go to any length to help her, wouldn’t you?” But instead of voicing it, she said, “Then let’s call Julius. Let’s tell him we’re dating.” George’s expression faltered, and he stammered, “Abigail, it’s just a week. Can we just… forget about that for now? You need to rest. Stop worrying about everything else.” Just then, his phone rang. George just hung up. Abigail let out a heavy sigh. “Go on. Don’t keep her waiting.” George nodded, a little reluctantly. “Promise me you won’t stay mad? Rest, and I’ll be back for dinner.” He walked away, his footsteps growing distant. Abigail froze for a moment, then reached for her phone. The call had been active the whole time. The number on the screen was her backup phone. Before getting out of the car earlier, she had called herself from that phone, then slipped it under the passenger seat. Now, she brought her phone up to her ear, listening carefully. George’s voice came through low and irritated. “Freya, didn’t I tell you not to show up in front of Abigail?” Freya’s voice was laced with hurt. “But yesterday, you told me you didn’t like her. Today, you’re admitting she’s your girlfriend! You’re the one being two-faced. How is that my fault?” George sighed deeply. “She’s been with me for all these years while you were gone. I can’t just break up with her like that, Freya.” Freya’s sobs became louder. “George, you’ve always been mine. When I went abroad, it was to improve myself. I agreed to break up because I didn’t want to make things hard for you with your family. But it’s been seven years, and I can’t forget you. Why should I end up being the one hiding in the shadows?” George’s voice softened. “I know, I know. But things have changed, and we need to figure this out slowly. Just be patient for now.” Freya’s voice turned sweet again. “So, when are you going to break up with her?” George’s voice dropped in frustration. “Freya!” Her tone softened, almost coaxing. “Alright, alright, I won’t ask again. Just take your time. But… if you really plan on marrying her, it’s fine. Just leave a spot for me. I’ll be happy to be your mistress if that’s what it takes.” Abigail couldn’t help but feel a rush of disgust. She couldn’t help but think that no man could resist Freya’s perfect balance of charm and sweetness. That effortless ability to play on a man’s heartstrings was something Abigail knew she’d never master. In the middle of her thoughts, she heard clothes rustling on the line. And then, George let out a low groan. Freya’s voice came through, half-muffled. “Aren’t you taking me home? Why are we heading to the parking garage instead?” George’s voice was rough, his breath shallow. “You’ve turned me on. I can’t wait anymore… Let’s just do it in the garage.”

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“I agree to the marriage.” My family faced bankruptcy as my parents scrambled for solutions until help arrived with a condition. “The man in power wants to marry you.” I remained silent for a moment and agreed. My mom, Amanda Almond, on the other end of the phone, suddenly fell silent, leaving only the sound of sobbing. I knew that if she weren’t at the end of her rope, my mom would never tell me this. Due to my numerous childhood misfortunes, my mom consulted a fortune teller, who warned of an ominous fate and premature death, advising a southern move to evade disasters. My mom was reluctant to let me go, but she relented after another car accident occurred to me and sent me to the south. It was to recuperate and also to avoid disaster. My dad took the phone with a sigh. “Do you give up that man?” I knew what he meant, smiled bitterly, and shook my head. “He doesn’t love me anymore.” After hanging up the phone, I was about to open the studio for ventilation when the door was suddenly pushed open. Jocelyn Bright ran to my wheelchair and pushed me out. “Where are you pushing me?” She paused and smiled innocently, “Jeremy and Francis said they would take me to the beach to play beach volleyball. Miranda, you should come too.” She looked down at my legs, the malice on her face gradually growing. “Oh, I almost forgot that you’re a cripple and can’t go to the beach!” I’ve gotten used to her two different faces in public and behind people’s backs, having no energy to show my fury. “Since you know I can’t go, just push me back.” But Jocelyn shook her head at me. “No, Miranda.” I suddenly had a bad feeling and reached out to pull her. But she dodged it, and her body fell to the side, hitting her head hard on the railing. After the loud noise, she burst into tears. The two people downstairs heard the noise and came up. Seeing her covering her head, they started accusing me. “Miranda, I just wanted to invite you to go for a walk on the beach. I’m afraid you’ll get bored at home alone. If you don’t want to go, then don’t go. But why did you push me?” Jeremy Dempsey helped her up with a displeased look on his face. Francis Earwood even directly rebuked, “Miranda Almond, Jocelyn thinks of you for everything good. Even when she goes to the beach, she wants to take you with her. Can you please put away your bad temper?” He turned around and looked at Jocelyn, his voice becoming gentle again. “It’s okay, Jocelyn. If she doesn’t want to go, then she doesn’t have to go. We’ll go with you.” Jocelyn tightly grasped Jeremy’s hand. She smiled at Francis when he showed concern but grew wary upon meeting my gaze. “What about Miranda? We can’t leave her home alone!” Jeremy glanced at me and said, “She’s an adult now. Nothing will happen to her if she’s alone at home.” Jocelyn then nodded, turned around and waved to me, then left, pulling the two young men away. It took me a long time to look away and push the wheelchair back to the studio with great effort. This electric wheelchair had been broken for a long time. I wanted to ask them to find a fixer before, but I was put off again and again. I had got used to it. ***** After the car accident, I had problems with the nerves in my legs, which made me unable to walk normally, so my parents sent me to the south. They hired a lot of servants to help take care of me. But the kids of my age around me didn’t like playing with me and called me a little cripple. Sometimes, when I slid my wheelchair out for a walk, some would deliberately pull the wheelchair to tease me. Then, Jeremy and Francis appeared. They said only princesses didn’t have to walk. They protected my dignity and drove away the children around me who wanted to bully me. They grew up with me. My parents would occasionally fly over from the north, and they felt relieved knowing that I had two such good playmates. We all grew up gradually and had our own jobs. Jeremy was now a well-known doctor, and Francis followed in his father’s footsteps and inherited the family business. I chose art because I had a mobility impairment. Fortunately, my work had won awards in various competitions, so I could support myself. I should have gone back to the north last year, but I said that I found the person I loved here. My parents understood and agreed to let me stay here, but they would call me from time to time, worried that the boy’s family would dislike my legs. “No, he won’t.” Jeremy had confessed his love to me many times. He said he would try every means to treat my legs and that he would take care of me for the rest of my life. I was moved. It was not because of the vow but because I could feel his sincere love. “Let me think about it…” Unfortunately, before I could answer, he took back his oath. Because Jocelyn appeared.

In March, I went to the mountains to shoot. There, I met Jocelyn, who was almost beaten to death. I heard that her father hit her because she didn’t want to get married. Girls in the mountains got married and had children as soon as they reached adulthood. Those who were younger than her had even had two children. But she just didn’t want to get married. I didn’t really want to get involved in other people’s lives, so I left her some money and wanted to go. But she hugged my legs and begged, “Miss, please take me away. I don’t want to live a mediocre life. I want to see the scenery outside.” Maybe it was because her eyes were too bright at that time, and the desire in them was too burning, which reminded me of myself as a child. I nodded, left some money to her father, and took her out. I let her go to school and try new things. She didn’t want to go home, so I allowed her to live in my house temporarily. As Jeremy and Francis heard that she wanted to stay, their first reaction was to refuse. “You don’t know her at all.” “You are disabled, and if she has any bad intentions, we are not around.” “Francis is right. Do not let anyone stay here.” I was a little hesitant and wanted to let them get on with each other first. With Jocelyn’s deliberate flattery, the two of them completely changed after just a few days. They took the initiative to ask Jocelyn to stay and even prepared gifts for her. The two made no secret of their love for Jocelyn and made promises to her. Francis said, “Don’t worry. We will always protect you.” And Jeremy followed up. “As long as you live here for one day, I will protect you.” I was just standing by, listening to Jeremy, who once promised to only take care of me, making a promise to another girl. I tried to smile but failed. It was so easy to say protect someone for a lifetime, and it could be said to anyone. Fortunately, I was used to experiencing bad luck. The person I liked fell for someone else? It should also be included in bad luck. I didn’t know why the person in power in the marriage arrangement chose me. Wasn’t he afraid that I’d bring bad luck to his family? I laughed to myself, thinking of the deadline my father told me. The timeline there was very tight, on the 15th of this month, which was only two weeks away. But it was better to be quick so that I wouldn’t get upset when seeing them. I returned to the studio. The sunlight shone on my unfinished painting, and I picked up the paintbrush and continued coloring. Rose Garden at Sunset. The colors on the canvas changed from light to dark, roses gradually blooming, and a little girl squatted on the ground… The painting was still unfinished, but it was not appropriate to continue today. I pushed the wheelchair and returned to the room. It was only then that I noticed the emptiness of the house. It seemed that none of the servants were there. I picked up my phone and called the nanny who cooked for me. The call was connected after a while, and I asked them where they had gone. The nanny said in a surprised voice, “Miss, didn’t you ask Ms. Bright to give us a day off? So we’re at home.” I was stunned and hung up the phone. I wanted to call Jocelyn to question her but stopped at the last minute. Helplessly, I pushed the wheelchair to the kitchen, found instant noodles, and made it for myself. Just as I took a bite, the door was pushed open. Three people carrying packaged food came in and watched me eat noodles. Jeremy came over and took the instant noodles away, saying with an impatient tone, “Jocelyn said she would bring you food. Why are you acting pitiful by eating instant noodles?” Jocelyn placed the packed meal on the table, behaving generously. “Maybe Miranda didn’t see the message I sent. “Miranda, instant noodles are too innutritious. I brought you some seafood. Come and have some.” Staring at the two men, I just found it a little absurd. “Seafood? But I’m allergic to seafood. Don’t you know?” My words made them choke. Yeah, didn’t they know? This was something they knew as soon as we met! Jocelyn smiled and said, “Miranda, my grandma said that if you eat a little bit of something you are allergic to, you will become desensitized. Would you like to try it?”

I ignored her and wanted to continue eating instant noodles. But my wheelchair was pushed over by Jeremy. “Jocelyn is right. It’s okay to eat a little bit of something you’re allergic to, okay? Don’t let her down.” Jeremy forcefully shoved the bowl of seafood soup into my hands and said, “Eat some soup. You’ll be fine.” I looked into his eyes and smiled with a hint of self-mockery, “I’ll be fine?” I suddenly found it ridiculous to hear it coming from a doctor. He turned his head away, not daring to look me in the eyes. I took a sip, and the allergic reaction appeared instantly. The feeling of suffocation came over me, and Jeremy was utterly panicked. He bent down, picked me up, and looked for allergy medicine in the room. Francis also wanted to go but was hugged by Jocelyn while crying. “I thought Grandma was right. I’m sorry, Miranda. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was so serious.” After taking the medicine, it took a long time for my symptoms to ease. Jeremy wanted to say something, but I pushed him away. “Get out of my house. “All of you.” Jocelyn moved into Jeremy’s house. She sent me a lot of photos, including her current room, several sets of expensive clothes, and two similar dolls. I subconsciously clicked on the photo, and when the picture became clear, I was stunned. Those were… The dolls I gave them. Jocelyn’s voice message followed. “Miranda, Jeremy is so good to me. He was afraid that I would be scared, so he gave me a lot of things. “Ah, did you see the dolls? I said I liked them, so they gave them to me directly. “I heard that it was you who made them. You won’t be angry, right?” I knew she was provoking me, but I didn’t care anymore. On Jeremy’s birthday, I spent a month studying online before I made the doll. After Francis found out, he insisted that I make one for him as a birthday present. So I made one for him, too. The two used to cherish the dolls so much that no one was allowed to touch them. But now, they were easily given away. The next day, the servants came back. I asked them to pack up the things that the two had given me and put them casually in a box. The nanny who had taken care of me the longest was a little puzzled. “Miss, aren’t these your favorites?” “I don’t like them now.” Those two gave me a lot of things since I was a child, both cheap and expensive. From small items like hairpins to large items like expensive dolls. I treated them as treasures and cherished them well. Unfortunately, things had changed and there was no need for it now. It took eight full boxes to fill up the stuff. Then, I had someone put them in the warehouse. Jeremy and Francis came to see me and saw that. They opened the box at the same time and found that those were the things they had given me before. Jeremy was surprised. “Miranda, why did you ask them to pack up all those things?” “Just putting them away and cleaning them up.” I acted like nothing happened. Seeing that I had recovered from yesterday’s anger, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. “I really didn’t know your allergy would be so serious. You had never eaten seafood before, so I thought it was just a skin allergy or something like that.” Francis also asked, “We were both a little impulsive yesterday. Are you feeling better now?” Listening to these words, I just found them absurd. Did they realize they were wrong? But if they did, why would they have done those? Forcing others to do things they couldn’t do just for the person they liked would satisfy them so much? “Thank you for your concern.” I turned my wheelchair and wanted to leave but was stopped by Jeremy. He pressed his lips. He would do this every time he was nervous. I looked at him curiously. “Do you have anything else to say?” “Jocelyn’s birthday is coming up soon. I heard that she has never had her own birthday party, so I want to hold one for her.” Francis then added, “Besides, your birthday is right after hers. After that, we can celebrate yours.” They probably hadn’t finished what they were saying. If they were just celebrating a birthday, why would they come to ask for my opinion? I was right. After sharing their banquet ideas, Jeremy added, “Jocelyn has lived here for such a long time and is most familiar with your place, so we are going to set the venue for the party here.”

I knew it. “Whatever!” Jeremy didn’t expect me to agree so quickly, and a look of surprise flashed in his eyes. “You’re not angry?” I looked at him strangely and felt pathetic. Would they stop doing it if I was angry? In the end, they would still do it. Jeremy wanted to continue asking but heard Jocelyn exclaim, “Oh… Stop it…” Eventually, his concern for Jocelyn outweighed his doubts about my condition. With the servant’s help, I resumed painting in the studio, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. Something seemed to have happened, and her voice was a little anxious. “Ms. Almond, go check it out! Jocelyn demolished your rose garden and said she wanted to grow vegetables there.” I pressed the paintbrush in my hand with more force, then immediately opened the door and had someone push me there. The rose garden, my mom’s gift on my tenth birthday, had always been meticulously tended, for it was special to me. I thought that when I felt better, my mom could come to see me and enjoy the roses together again. ***** After all, it was not very convenient to move around in a wheelchair. And upon arrival at the garden, we found the flowers in that small garden cleaned up. I was a little stunned. But the instigator pretended not to notice anything and pointed to a big dog digging in the dirt nearby. “Miranda, this is a great help in helping me farm. If it weren’t for this Labrador, I wouldn’t be able to demolish it so quickly.” Feeling that it was not enough to stimulate me, she quickly added, “You rich people are always wasting land growing flowers and trees. I think it’s more practical to grow some vegetables. Not only can we eat them, but we can also save money. Don’t you think so, Miranda?” She really knew how to find my bottom line. Those I couldn’t eat. Those I couldn’t touch. Those I couldn’t do. She wanted to try everything that could piss me off. I closed my eyes. I was leaving anyway, so I didn’t have to care much about things that couldn’t be kept. The nanny glared at her and was about to push me away when she suddenly exclaimed, “Miss, that’s Lucky…” Jocelyn looked at the bones in Labrador’s mouth with disdain, picked up the plastic bag, put them in it, and threw it away. Then, she looked back at me and said, “Are all you rich people so unrefined? You buried the dead dog in the garden? What if Star eats it? No need to thank me, Miranda. I just helped you clean it up.” My reason tumbled at this moment. I slid my wheelchair over and slapped her in the face. Jocelyn screamed, covering her face and crying out in pain. The Labrador named Star noticed that its owner was crying, and it showed its ferociousness. It rushed directly towards me, biting my arm with its sharp teeth, and I couldn’t shake it off. The servant wanted to help me but was stopped by Jocelyn. “Don’t go! Star will bite you.” The dog dragged me into the mud, shaking its head wildly. The pain of my skin and flesh being torn apart made me scream, which greatly stimulated the Labrador’s ferocity. I waved my other hand desperately and accidentally grabbed a stone, which I immediately picked up and smashed on the dog’s head. It was hit again and again, making it scream in pain. Jocelyn shouted, “Don’t smash it… Star, stop biting and run!” The noise was so loud that people in the front yard heard it early on. But no one came to see until Jocelyn shouted, and then the two men came over. Seeing the people who supported her coming, she said nothing and rushed to them to complain, “I just wanted a vegetable garden to grow vegetables, but I didn’t expect Miranda to be so angry. After slapping me, she also wanted to beat my dog.” She looked at Francis. “Francis, please help me bring Star here. Don’t let Miranda kill it!” She just twisted the facts with a few words. My hands were still bleeding. But they acted as if they didn’t see it and were very angry. Francis held Jocelyn in his arms and comforted her gently. “It’s okay. It’s fine. If you want to grow vegetables, just grow them. I’ll find someone to help you take care of them later.” He then looked at me again, his anger soaring. “Miranda Almond, have you had enough of making trouble? You can’t bully Jocelyn, so you want to take it out on her dogs. When did you become so hateful?” As the Labrador saw that someone was supporting it, it opened its mouth and ran to Francis’s feet, crying. I was so angry that I laughed. “I am hateful? “You are good at doing favors.” I covered my bleeding hand and pointed at the scattered rose trees on the ground. “These are my flowers, a gift from my mother. How could you give them to her just because she wants it? Who are you to make the decision for me?” I pointed at the pile of exposed bones and said hysterically, “Besides, she wants to throw away my Lucky. Why can’t I beat her? Can you please have a limit to your partiality!”

However, partiality was something that had no bottom line. People would always indulge the ones they loved. Jeremy looked at the girl who was throwing herself into Francis’ arms like a kitten with gentleness. But there was only disgust in his eyes as he turned to me. “A dog that has been dead for so many years is worthy of you being so harsh on Star?” At this moment, I felt like my breathing was about to stop. A dog that had been dead for so many years? Anyone could say this except him! When he was kidnapped, it was Lucky who tracked him down and ran dozens of miles to bring him back. Lucky, bloodied from the criminals’ slashes, managed a final glance at me before closing its eyes. I cried out and held its body tightly, not wanting anyone to bury it. Jeremy then came to comfort me despite the injuries he suffered from the beatings. “Miranda, it’s okay. Without Lucky, I will be with you in the future.” I was finally persuaded and joined him in burying Lucky in the rose garden. He told me, “In the future, a bunch of roses called Lucky will grow in the rose garden and continue to accompany you.” Jeremy, at that time, seemed like two different people than he was now. One just wanted to protect me, and the other one indulged in hurting me. ***** They asked me to apologize, but I ignored them. Francis snorted coldly and scolded me for not repenting, “If you’re stubborn, just keep not apologizing.” Then they took the servant and my wheelchair away, leaving me alone there. The unrecognizable rose garden and the bleeding wounds all mocked my initial soft-heartedness. I struggled to move from the mud to the lawn, and rose thorns pierced my palms. I tore the clothes off my arms, revealing the flesh that had been turned inside out. Enduring the pain, I used the running water to wash away the mud. But my aunt, Yolanda, called me at this time. She was married in the south and lived not far from me. She knew that I was going back soon and wanted to come and see me. But I rejected her. “Yolanda, you just got pregnant. Don’t walk around.” She noticed the nasal tone in my voice and was a little surprised. “Do you have a cold again?” I was afraid that she would come over and see my mess, so I quickly made an excuse that I had eaten spicy food. “I’ve been packing up recently. When I’m done, I’ll go to visit you.” Then, Yolanda was relieved and just reminded me. “You are vulnerable. Take good care of yourself, and don’t worry your mom and me.” After hanging up the phone, I finally burst out crying. Tears fell. The sky became gloomy, and a cool breeze blew. Although it was summer, I felt chilled to the bone. The pain in my arm brought me back to my senses, and I prepared to call emergency services again, but unfortunately, I collapsed before I could even make the call. It rained heavily. The raindrops woke me up, and only then did I notice that it was already dark. I felt hot and cold at the same time, and Francis came over with an umbrella and a flashlight. Seeing my embarrassment, he frowned. “Can’t you just give in? “Why are you still so stubborn? “How can Jeremy and I get along with you in the future if you behave like this?” He bent down, trying to carry me, but I smelled his pungent yet familiar scent. It was Jocelyn’s perfume. They were so close to each other, which was really disgusting. I pushed him away with all my strength. “There is no future.” Soon, I’d finish what I needed to do. And I would leave on my initiative. The past would only be the past. But I wouldn’t tell them directly. He thought I was joking and increased his strength. “Come on. I came to you without even joining my meeting. Can’t you just behave yourself? “Jocelyn is different from you. She has suffered so much, but she has the tenacity to climb up. She is also more worldly-wise than you.” I pulled his clothes tightly on his chest to keep a distance from him. Since I couldn’t break free, I didn’t want to have excessive contact. “But I have always been like this. “Why didn’t you say I was stubborn, I was naughty, and I did something wrong before?” My voice got lower and lower, and my head nodded. “But did I really do anything wrong?” Because my hands were infected from being caught in the rain, I developed a high fever that night. The fever didn’t go down even after taking antipyretics. Jeremy found out that I had a fever and paid me a visit with a hint of impatience in his eyes. “Why didn’t you have a fever just when Jocelyn was about to have her birthday party? Do you just want to make things difficult for Jocelyn?” I heard his words clearly, and my heart was filled with bitterness again, but this time, it was less than last time. This should be desensitization. Francis remained silent, staring at the wound on my arm, then arranged medical treatment and a rabies vaccine. I cried for most of the night because of the pain and couldn’t sleep all night. Then, the fever went away the next day. My painting agent, Luke Moore, called me and said that I won second place in the last competition. He was coming over to give me the trophy. I agreed. I fell asleep in a daze, and as I checked the time, I found that it was already three o’clock in the afternoon. But I didn’t see anyone. I took out my phone and saw Luke’s message. [I heard that you were not feeling well, and your sister collected the trophy.]

My sister? I got in the wheelchair and went downstairs. The banquet was still going on downstairs. I saw my trophy being given to her friends by Jocelyn. And I could hear the boasting faintly. “Jocelyn, you are amazing. I heard that this award is very valuable.” “You haven’t received any systematic training, but you can still win this award. You are more talented than her.” All the flattery. Jeremy and Francis just listened without exposing anything. Even after seeing me come out, they locked the living room door tacitly. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Jeremy. [It’s Jocelyn’s birthday. Don’t spoil her fun.] Francis followed closely behind. [A trophy can make Jocelyn happy, so what if you give it to her?] After the party was over and everyone had left, Jocelyn entered the living room with the trophy. Seeing that I was there too, she realized belatedly that she was being protected again. Jocelyn looked at her two good friends with gratitude, which was beyond words. “That’s great. You treat me better than my own brothers.” Hearing such sincere praise, Jeremy and Francis both smiled. “We will always treat you well from now on.” “No one can bully you.” The atmosphere was so harmonious, but I couldn’t fit in at all. I grabbed the trophy and threw it directly into the trash can. They were stunned by my actions. Jeremy was the first to react and asked, “What are you doing?” I tilted my head, my tone puzzled. “I’m throwing trash. Is it bothering you?” I, who had always been docile, now seemed to have turned into a hedgehog, with my quills standing up and stabbing anyone who came near me. “You don’t think that once she touches it, it becomes hers, right?” I turned around and looked at Jocelyn. “Your name’s not on it, right?” Seeing her stunned, I laughed softly. “If it is, just pick it up from the trash can. I don’t mind. You’re a trash picker anyway.” Then, I returned to the studio without paying any attention to the changes in their expressions. Francis followed closely behind, wanting to argue with me. But he was stopped outside. I locked the door. Picking up the paintbrush, I slowly made some changes. The darkness gradually swallowed the warm and cozy rose garden. It was turbid and dark, reminding people of the abyss. There were pairs of hands inside, tentatively pulling me in little by little, trying to assimilate me. I was somewhat relieved that the dog bit my left hand, but that did not prevent me from modifying my painting. My mom sent me a message saying that they wanted to pick me up in advance. They would come in about four days. The time was just right. I added the finishing touches to the painting and a discreet signature. I packed up the other paintings and told Luke to pick them up. I was not selling them, but I had a regular partner for art exhibitions. I would deposit my work with him. Occasionally, I could collaborate with him on auctions. And I donated most of the money from the auctions to poor mountainous areas. My mom often told me that the goodness I accumulated would eventually come back to me. If there was no reward yet, then it was not the right time. I no longer believed it. But I would still do what I should do. Some people were born evil, and I couldn’t generalize, but I was exhausted. Tomorrow was Wednesday, the day for my biweekly visit to the orphanage. The next day, I got up early and didn’t wait for Jeremy and Francis as usual. I brought a servant, rented a car, and took the boxes of things I had packed earlier. as well as the clothes I had bought for the children.

As soon as I entered, Maria Cooper, the orphanage director, enthusiastically pushed me in. “I don’t know how many times those naughty kids have asked me why you haven’t come yet. “They miss you so much.” Hearing this, I felt a little more relaxed. Maria noticed the white gauze on my hand, stunned for a second, and couldn’t help but soften her voice. “Has anything happened recently?” I looked at her but said nothing. She gently stroked my head. “Miranda, you’re a good girl. I can tell whether you’re happy or not at a glance.” Maria’s hands were big and covered with thick calluses, not as delicate as my mom’s hands, but they were both warm and powerful. I smiled and suppressed my annoyance. “I’m fine. Troubles will pass, right?” Maria realized that I didn’t want to talk about it and got over the topic. Many of the children in this orphanage were disabled. They had been abandoned here because of physical disabilities or serious illnesses. I got along very well with them, probably because we had similar childhood experiences, so it was easier for us to empathize with each other. Every month, I would give them lessons, and for the rest of the time, I would just play with them. Maria sent me there, and I asked her to divide the things I brought and distribute them starting from the first floor. She scolded me for wasting money and went downstairs to find a teacher to help. “Stay after class. We’re having dumplings today.” I nodded, feeling somewhat happy. I taught them in a small classroom. But I had just been drawing for a while when a boy rushed in. “Miranda, the doll you gave to Nina was snatched away by an adult.” Several strong boys pushed me. As I got closer to the noise, I saw three familiar figures pointing at a little girl. Jocelyn was also among them, and she was the most outrageous. “Such an expensive doll. Does your director have the money to buy you one? “Your director must have stolen it. The children in the orphanage are all thieves…” She held the finely crafted doll and showed it to Francis. “I remember seeing this doll in Miranda’s room. It costs tens of thousands of dollars! “She must have stolen Miranda’s doll.” Francis thought of this as well and was about to lose his temper when I interrupted him. “I gave her the doll. Are you going to say that I stole my own things and gave them to others?” The children in the orphanage were strong, and they had no difficulty pushing an adult like me. They pushed me over, quickly picked up the little girl, and hid behind me. Children came one after another, and they all held something I gave them in their hands. Jeremy and Francis recognized those things immediately, and their eyes fell on me. “Aren’t these all gifts from us?” I used to treasure the gifts they gave me. And I even joked with them, “I’ll keep them until I die…” Thinking about it now made me feel uneasy. Jeremy looked at the white porcelain doll he gave me when I turned 18, and his eyes slowly drifted towards me. “Why did you give this to them too? “You can give them something else.” I thought about it and found a more appropriate sentence. “I don’t really want to keep anything that’s not important.” After all, I would leave, and it would remind me of the unhappiness if I kept them, so it was better to get rid of them. Their expressions became somewhat strange, which made Jocelyn aware of something unusual. She quickly spoke up to smooth things over. “Those things are given away. Francis, Jeremy, can’t you just give Miranda new ones in the future? “Aren’t you going to take me to play with other kids? Let’s go!” She pulled the two and wanted to leave quickly. But I stopped them. “Shouldn’t you apologize since you wrongly accused her? “You are used to stealing and cheating, so you think the whole world is the same as you!” Jocelyn was furious at the contemptuous looks of the children around her. Unfortunately, Francis and Jeremy were in a trance, and no one stood on her side. She could only apologize. Words spread quickly among the children, and by the time they were eating dumplings, most of what had happened in the morning was known to them. The dining hall was full except for the small table where the three of them sat. They were completely isolated. After returning home, the three of them came in with me. They were silent in the living room, watching me ask the servants to pack up and clean the house. Francis and Jeremy felt something was weird. Jeremy was about to talk to me, but I directly answered the call from my best friends. They heard that I was going home and wanted to ask me out. Remembering that my legs were inconvenient, they called the driver and asked him to take me to the bar. I agreed without thinking. I changed my clothes and prepared to leave, but Francis pulled my wheelchair and asked, “Where are you going?” The bodyguard who came to pick me up was honest. “The ladies invite Ms. Almond to the bar. Don’t worry. I will get her there safely.” Francis frowned when he heard this, and his voice was filled with criticism. “You are a girl, and you are disabled. Why are you going to a bar? You can’t go.” I didn’t hold back any strength and slapped the back of his hand. “Who are you to control me?” Jeremy also stopped me. “Francis is doing this for your own good. Don’t be unreasonable.” The bodyguard showed a trace of embarrassment. As the atmosphere became tense, Jocelyn intervened. She hadn’t been the center of attention for a day, so she felt displeased. She thought this was an excellent opportunity, so she just cut in. “The bar. Is that a fun place?” “Francis, Jeremy, if you are worried that the bar is a bad place, why don’t you take me with you? It will definitely be safer with more people.” I was almost vomiting at her shamelessness. But the other two agreed in unison, “You can go, and we will accompany you…”

My best friend, Gladys Frost, saw the three extra people and showed a dark face. But she wasn’t angry with me. Since Jocelyn came, her eyes couldn’t help but stick to Gladys’ boyfriend, a famous rising actor named Patrick Gellar. Jocelyn was outgoing and called him affectionately, “Patrick, I’ve seen your TV series, and the prince you played was really amazing…” Gladys sneered. “You’re so noisy. My boyfriend’s never seen you before. Why are you pestering him so shamelessly?” Her words made Jocelyn burst into tears, and she began to act again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was your boyfriend. I just thought it would be closer to call him Patrick, because I really like the TV series he starred in…” Francis couldn’t stand it anymore and spoke up to defend Jocelyn, but Gladys didn’t give him any face. She just pushed my wheelchair to the bar to have a drink. There were many girls around me, and we had a lot of common topics. Jeremy was worried that Jocelyn would feel a gap, so he ordered several kinds of light wine for her to try. The scene was highly harmonious. Gladys looked away and touched me with a look of distress on her face. “They are so blinded. No wonder you are fed up with them. Do these two always do stupid things?” I didn’t answer. But she had already guessed most of it, and Gladys was so furious that she turned around and was about to rush to them, but I quickly pulled her back. “I’ll just bear with it for a few more days. I’ll be leaving soon. “Then, no matter what they do, it will not affect me…” While persuading her, I was also convincing myself. At some point, Jeremy and Francis had walked away from Jocelyn, one disappearing while the other picked up a computer and started handling official business. Jocelyn was strolling around out of boredom, and she was very envious of the atmosphere where Gladys and I were chatting in the distance. She didn’t know why some were born with everything. They didn’t have to do everything they could to avoid being beaten, try every possible means to avoid getting married in exchange for money, or be afraid of being beaten to death if they were not obedient. For many girls in her hometown, marriage was hell. They gave birth to one child after another. If the first one was a boy, it was fine. But if it were a girl, they would continue to bear children. But why? Jocelyn didn’t want to live that kind of life, and after seeing the girl who was painting, she prostrated herself and begged. She hoped to get a little mercy from that girl. And she made the right bet. That girl was so kind that it made her feel sick. She funded her to see the new world, bought her new clothes, and sent her to vocational school, but she didn’t give her money, the most important thing. Jocelyn could only try every possible way to get close to her friends, deliberately using her pitiful life experience to beg for sympathy from them. Little by little, she lured them to her side and then took away what belonged to her. Jocelyn thought she had taken enough, but why was there someone else around her? No, everything she wanted should be hers! “How is your family’s situation? I can ask my sister to help…” Jocelyn aimed at her target, found Gladys, and forcefully interrupted the topic. “What are you talking about, Gladys? Did something happen to your family?” Jocelyn’s voice was awkward, which disgusted Gladys. “Can you speak in a normal way? At first you sounded like a duck, and now you sound like an old weirdo.” Jocelyn was puzzled, not knowing the meaning of her words. Gladys directly told her, “You know, those old guys with the weird laugh on TV series. “Oh, I forgot. You were in the mountains before, so you probably didn’t watch TV series!” This remark caused a small amount of laughter. Jocelyn became more and more embarrassed and glared at me fiercely. Receiving the gaze, I felt confused. What was wrong with her? I turned around and took a sip of my drink, not bothering to deal with such a person. “Miss, can you give me your number?” A strange young man came over at some point. Jocelyn subconsciously blocked him and slapped his phone away. “I don’t want to! “Don’t you see yourself in the mirror? If you want to ask a girl for her number, at least you should dress decently, like Francis…” The young man sneered and pulled her away. “Can you know yourself first, ugly woman? Asking for your number just makes me sick enough to want to replace my phone! “How dare you throw my phone? Who do you think you are?” He pulled her without mercy and threw her to the ground. All of a sudden, everyone’s eyes turned over. The scene became a little agitated, and boys and girls who were in the same group as the young man also gathered. Francis noticed something was wrong and walked over there. The initially quiet and comfortable atmosphere had changed. Francis was the first to attack me. “Miranda, are you just going to watch others bully Jocelyn like this? “I saw you were here, so I felt relieved that she came to you. Why didn’t you take better care of her?!”

Well, what a high-sounding excuse. He just put the blame on me. Gladys almost exploded with anger. “Francis, just because Miranda doesn’t bother to be angry with you doesn’t mean I won’t get angry with you. “Do you know what a scumbag is? “If you don’t, just look in the mirror.” Gladys had always been generous in her attacks on people she didn’t like. But she forgot that Jocelyn was sitting on the ground. Jocelyn was furious that she cursed at them, so she pushed Gladys. There was a sharp corner of the bar behind her, and if Gladys got hit, she would definitely bleed. I slid my wheelchair to block it, and my arm, which had not yet healed, started bleeding instantly. The bright red liquid stained my white sleeves. Seeing this, Patrick, who was a step late in holding Gladys, instantly got angry and raised his voice. “What’s wrong with you? If you don’t want your hands anymore, just chop them off.” His cruelty revealed in an instant reminded Jocelyn of that show. She was not angry at all but rather a little intoxicated. “Well, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean to be mean to me.” But when she thought that this man showed this expression because of another woman, she felt a little displeased. In her eyes, as long as it was related to me, she could take it. “Patrick…” Her lingering call instantly attracted the attention of several girls. “Is that Patrick?” “Patrick, the new actor that I like very much.” “Let’s ask for an autograph.” A hot topic quickly climbed to the top of the trending searches during the confrontation, and almost in an instant, candid photos from various angles were released together. If it weren’t for the fact that there were so many people taking pictures around, Gladys would have wanted to kick her. She could not imagine how Jocelyn could be so stupid. Did Jocelyn see nothing but evil thoughts and affairs? How could she be foolish enough to scream Patrick’s name out loud? So many people had found out! Gladys had no way to end it now. I pulled on her clothes and whispered, “Let’s stop here for today’s gathering. You leave with your boyfriend first. I will leave later.” Right now, this was the best solution. Before leaving, Gladys glared at Jocelyn fiercely and said coldly, “You’d better pray that Francis can always protect you. Otherwise, I will make you regret for what you did.” “Francis, I’m so scared.” After receiving the threat, Jocelyn directly chose to find her greatest helper. There were more and more people in the bar, and many girls were live streaming with their mobile phones. People were pushing and shoving each other, and someone deliberately knocked over my wheelchair. Francis wanted to help me, but Jocelyn held his arm. “Francis, I’m so scared. There are so many people here…” He retracted his hand, carefully protected Jocelyn, and only reminded me in a low voice. “Be careful.” I was used to it, so I didn’t even look at them and picked up the wheelchair. Crazy fans stepped on me. After I finally climbed up, the wheelchair was grabbed by someone. I looked back, a little surprised. They didn’t leave? Patrick helped Gladys push me into the private room before leaving. But little did we know that this scene was recorded in its entirety. The entries on the Internet changed in an instant. Initially, it was suspected that Patrick was arguing with someone, but it turned out to be Patrick’s disabled girlfriend, and Patrick was suspected to be kept by a wealthy woman… The topics were becoming more and more explosive and weird. Patrick’s fans didn’t believe it and started refuting it. Someone said: [It must be some bitch who wants to debut and wants to use Patrick to get to the top.] Another added: [Don’t let me know who you are. If I find out, I will definitely skin you alive.] Others echoed: [Is there anyone in the group chat who is good at IT technology? Please find out that crippling little bitch…] And so on. Meanwhile, a newly registered account uploaded a video. She tagged Patrick’s group of crazy fans several times, claiming to have proof that Patrick had a girlfriend. And she commented: [You want to know if she is Patrick’s girlfriend outside the showbiz? You can tell by just taking a look at the video.] Then, she posted a video. It was apparent that Patrick was wearing a mask and ordinary clothes. But somehow, even though Gladys was there, the camera in the video was all on me. Even from some angles, Gladys looked more like a passing fan. Patrick pushed the wheelchair, bowed his head and instructed, and… Some irrational fans exploded instantly. They swore to find that little bitch. That account continued to release some vaguely true things. For example, I was a painter. My family was kind of rich. And I had a boyfriend but kept a lover. She said I was slutty and even often engaged in some particular sports. Because of my disability, I liked to torture others… And so on. If she said this unilaterally, there would definitely not be many people who believed it. But this account was known by some classmates in my junior high and high school. Those people didn’t like me, so they just got involved and slandered me. Some said: [That person… I am her junior high school classmate. She’s just very pretentious, and there are a lot of men around her.] Another commented: [I am also her classmate. You have no idea how chaotic her private life is. My mother never allowed me to play with her because she was afraid that I would get sick.] And others added: [Boyfriend? You underestimate her. She has more than one boyfriend.] My phone had run out of battery long ago. By the time I charged it and turned it on, it was flooded with calls from unfamiliar people. I tried answering one of them but was cursed. That stranger cursed my whole family and cursed me to die. This was the first time I experienced the viciousness of words. My good mood for the day was ruined. I just felt depressed and panic in my heart. So, I slid my wheelchair to take a breath, but Francis was sitting in the living room, holding Jocelyn.

Jocelyn covered her face and cried, looking so pitiful. “I don’t know why those people scolded me. I didn’t do anything.” Francis looked at me with a look whole of condemnation. “It’s all your fault for insisting on going to that bar. Now Jocelyn has been implicated by you. “Those people dug up your identity and even found Jocelyn’s phone number. What they said was extremely unpleasant.” My phone started ringing again, and I picked it up impatiently. Another strange call. I just rejected it and turned off my phone. I looked into Francis’ eyes calmly, trying to find the boy through these eyes. Leaving my familiar home, I came here alone. Being bullied, I was powerless. Most of the time, all I could do was cry. Later, I fantasized that if I had a brother who accompanied me to school, would I not be bullied? He would definitely chase away the kids who bullied me and called me a cripple. He would definitely hold me in his arms and coax me softly, “Miranda, it’s fine. You’re not a little cripple. You’re an angel…” Then he actually showed up. Francis appeared in my life. After seeing my wrist bleeding from being hit with a stone, he rushed over and chased away those kids. Then, he pushed me back to his home and took out a small first aid kit to disinfect me. Somehow, I looked at his serious profile, and all the grievances that I had accumulated burst out. I kept crying like a wounded little animal. He didn’t mind my noise but just reached out and touched my head. “You feel wronged, right? “It’s okay. Mom said that girls are made of water. Cry if you feel wronged. I won’t laugh at you. “I will be your brother from now on. If you are in danger, call me and I will protect you from being bullied.” I believed that. I also believed him. Unfortunately, it was a mistake. ***** After searching for a long time, I still couldn’t find what I was looking for in him. I smiled with relief, and the tears began to fall. I looked up at the sky and forced the tears back. “Francis Earwood, are you questioning me? “But didn’t you propose to go there with her?” It was the first time that Francis heard me call his name in such a distant way. Every time I saw him, I always smiled, but now I looked indifferent. And even my eyes seemed like I was looking at a stranger. No, not even as good as a stranger. He was a little uncomfortable. “You never called me so distantly…” These words drifted away in the wind. I pretended not to hear anything. Things on Twitter were escalating. My phone had been completely compromised. Gladys, who couldn’t contact me, came to my house directly and saw me eating instant noodles alone. “Well, where are your servants?” I pointed to a room where people were packing up things. “I fired a few and asked the rest to help pack. “After all, it’s almost time, and I have to prepare in advance.” Gladys nodded and returned to the original topic. “Don’t worry about these bad things for now. I have asked my sister for help with the disputes on the Internet.” She took my instant noodle and pushed it away with a look of disgust. “Today is your birthday. No matter how anxious you are to leave, don’t forget your birthday.” “Leaving what?” Two men’s voices were heard behind us. Jeremy and Francis walked to the table with a look of confusion on their faces.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397550”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G #Marriage #Heartbroken #DaretoLove

My name is Eleanor Sutton. I was a detective. Now I’m dead. I’ve become a ghost, lingering around my fiancé, Charles Kingsley. “Charles, something’s happened. I need your help!” Charles got a call from Amelia Thomas. he dropped everything and rushed to her. She was his first love; they grew up togethis. Whatever she asked, he would do it. I once asked if he only cared about Amelia. he would always impatiently reply, “Amelia and I are just friends. Stop being jealous.” This time, she killed someone and asked his to handle the body. And he agreed. But he didn’t know the body was mine.

“Amelia, this is the last time I’m helping you!” Charles expertly put on gloves and started erasing the fingerprints. When he saw a scar on the body’s right arm, he worried it might be recognized. So, he used acid to dissolve the scar. Then, he continued checking for other identifiable marks. Out of habit, he narrated while examining, “There’s a scar on her left abdomen, looks like a surgical mark.” Even though we’ve been dating for years, we’ve never had sex. He said he didn’t have sex before marriage to protect me. I respect his point of view and am glad for it. So, he doesn’t know about the scars on my arm and abdomen. Amelia got nervous when she heard Charles. She held her breath and stayed silent. Only after he used acid to erase the scars on the body did she finally relax. “It looks like she’s missing a kidney.” Charles pressed on the left side of the abdomen, confirming his suspicion. Amelia, worried he might figure something out, quickly changed the subject. “Where should we dump the body after we’re done?” “Just find a random spot, as long as it won’t be discovered.” Amelia agreed and then stared at Charles. “Have you and your fiancée made up yet?” He snorted. “I don’t want to talk about her.” Seeing his expression, Amelia knew our relationship hadn’t improved. Satisfied with the answer, she said no more. She needed to be sure he still didn’t know I had truly disappeared. A month ago, Charles and I had a fierce argument. Since then, we’ve been giving each other the silent treatment. No matter what messages I sent, he wouldn’t reply, and he didn’t even come home. After dealing with the body, Charles stood up and took off his gloves. he glanced at the head of the corpse. The face was completely unrecognizable, not a single part intact. Naturally, Charles couldn’t recognize me. he asked, “How much did you hate her to destroy her face like this? She wasn’t someone you knew, was she?” Amelia’s heart skipped a beat, and she gave a guilty laugh. “There are other forensic experts in the city. This is all I can do. Be careful.” “I got it.” Amelia nodded and then eagerly threw herself into Charles’s arms. “Charles, I’ve missed you so much.” “Do you know I’ve been thinking about you every single day? I’m going crazy without you.” Charles was moved by her words. Amelia held his hand. “Charles, please don’t go. Stay with me a little longer, okay?” With that, Amelia kissed Charles. he couldn’t resist her. In front of my corpse, he embraced her and they made love. I wanted to rush over and shout, “Don’t do this disgusting thing next to my body.” But my soul passed right through them. No matter how much I screamed, they couldn’t hear me. I was powerless.

Amelia and Charles’s moans filled the air. I wanted to cover my ears, but the sound pierced my soul. No matter what I did, it was useless. I couldn’t escape. It felt like a curse, my soul was bound to his, and I couldn’t break free. I watched helplessly as my fiancé, the man I cherished more than my own life, made love with my murderer. I felt so nauseous I wanted to vomit. After I threw up, a spiteful thought crossed my mind: Charles would eventually realize the corpse beside his was mine. One day, when he finds out he slept with the woman who killed his fiancée and even helped her destroy my body, would he break down? A twisted sense of revenge filled my heart. It made me feel a bit better. Charles and Amelia made love next to my remains for over an hour. Afterward, he went back home. he opened the door to darkness. he turned on the light and walked into the kitchen out of habit. he opened the fridge and grabbed a chilled coconut water. he smelled the stench of rotting vegetables. he covered his nose and cleaned out the rotten vegetables from the fridge. There was still a bottle of fresh milk in the fridge, expiring in a day, produced a week ago. Seeing the date, Charles naturally thought of the corpse he just saw. he immediately recognized that the body had been dead for a week. The body hadn’t decomposed yet, indicating Amelia had put a lot of effort into preserving it. Charles shook his head, not wanting to think about why Amelia did it. I watched his standing at my room’s door. After hesitating for a while, he pushed it open. Freshly washed, unfolded clothes were on my bed. Charles folded the clothes and put them in the wardrobe. While putting the clothes away, he accidentally pulled something out. I instantly recognized it as a wedding dress casebook. Charles opened the book and saw the wedding dress. After a few seconds of shock, he threw the book into the wardrobe with disgust and left. My spirit followed his, and I heard his angrily say, “So you’re just going to ignore me forever? Fine, never come home. Just die out there!” he didn’t know, I really was dead. The next morning, Charles was woken up by his phone ringing. My body was found by a sanitation worker. He called the police, and they arrived quickly. Charles showed up at the scene too. he immediately recognized the body he had dealt with. “Mr. Kingsley, the face has been maliciously damaged, and the fingerprints are gone. We can’t identify the body right now.” Hearing this from his assistant, Charles sighed in relief. Luckily, nothing identifiable was left. “Take the body back first. I’ll go talk to Isaac.” Charles approached Isaac Whitman, my mentor, to learn more about the body’s identity. “Isaac, the body is badly damaged. It’ll take time to identify it through the remains. Did you find any evidence at the scene?” Isaac was completely clueless. “This isn’t the primary crime scene. It rained last night. We can’t find any useful evidence. This case is tough! And Eleanor is on vacation right now!” Isaac deliberately mentioned me in front of Charles. he got a bit angry when he heard my name. “Has Eleanor contacted you?” Isaac knew Charles had been upset with me because of that incident. He wanted to help smooth things over. “Isaac, I’m busy. I need to get back to the station.” With that, Charles turned and left. Isaac watched his walk away, shaking his head and sighing, “I really don’t understand what young people are thinking these days!” Then he took out his phone and called me. “This is strange. She still can’t be reached. Leo, can you try calling Eleanor?” My soul couldn’t stray too far from Charles, so I followed his back to the station. his assistant looked at my body on the autopsy table and sighed, “Mr. Kingsley, this killer is so cruel! She was so young, and now she’s dead.” Once he was suited up, his assistant stepped back to give his space. “Mr. Kingsley, we have to get justice for the victim!” Hearing this, Charles’s hand holding the scalpel trembled slightly. I noticed his eyes were filled with tears. he must be feeling guilty for helping the killer. If he knew the body in front of his was mine, how would he feel? He’d probably be happy. After all, his mother, Carol Kingsley, died because of me… A month ago, our police department teamed up with the state government to take down organized crime. I worked overtime for a month straight. I was so busy I even forgot Carol’s birthday. She understood how hard I was working and felt sorry for me for working overtime for a month straight. That night, Carol prepared some desserts and personally brought them to the police station. After I got the call, I was about to go out and bring her in. At the same time, the on-duty officer caught a fugitive and was about to interrogate his. I followed them into the interrogation room and forgot to meet Carol at the entrance. When I finished the interrogation and came out, I saw Charles storming towards me, furious. I remembered there weren’t any major cases recently, so he shouldn’t have been working late. Why was he here at this hour? Sensing something was off, I was about to ask his what was wrong. He walked up and slapped me. “Do you remember my mom?” It hit me then—Carol had been waiting outside the station for me. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. I’ll go apologize to her right now!” I started to run outside, but noticed Charles standing still. I was about to ask what was going on when I saw Isaac coming in with a grave expression. “Eleanor, Mr. Kingsley, come in.” Once inside Isaac’s office, I learned that Carol was dead. “Carol’s dead? What happened?” Isaac told me that while Carol was waiting for me outside the station, she ran into some thugs. We had been cracking down on gangs, and I had arrested their leader. In retaliation, they knocked Carol out and dragged her to the roadside. They cut off her arms and legs and dumped them in a nearby ditch. I couldn’t believe Carol was dead. I looked into Isaac’s eyes. He sighed, head lowered. Charles collapsed onto the table, sobbing uncontrollably. “Eleanor, you bitch! If you had picked up my mom earlier, this wouldn’t have happened!” Charles was furious at me when he found out Carol came to the police station to bring me desserts and got attacked by my enemies. We had planned toget engaged next week. But because of this incident, he put the plan on hold. Charles refused to forgive me and moved out of our shared apartment. He ignored my texts and calls. Even at Carol’s funeral, he had people block me from entering. “You killed my mom. You have no right to be at her funeral.” In the end, I could only say goodbye to Carol from outside the funeral home, facing where her body was laid. I had one lingering question about the whole thing. How did those thugs know Carol was connected to me? Given the nature of our jobs, Charles and I had warned Carol not to mention us to anyone, fearing our enemies might target her. The surveillance near the police station captured those thugs. I led the team to arrest them myself. But no matter how I interrogated them, they claimed it was a spur-of-the-moment attack. Yet all the evidence pointed to a premeditated crime. After all, no one would be dumb enough to wander around a police station with knives in the middle of the night. I traced the two machetes back to a hardware store. I was surprised to find that the clerk was Amelia. I showed her the photos of the thugs and asked if she recognized them. She looked carefully, then shook her head and said she didn’t know them. Finding no leads, I turned to leave. As I was walking out, I spotted a gold earring in the corner. It was the one I gave Carol for her birthday last year. The day before she was attacked, she had called me, apologizing for losing the earring. “How did her gold earring end up here?” I picked up the gold earring, ready to ask Amelia what was going on. Suddenly, someone pulled out a metal rod and struck my head hard. Before I passed out, I heard a man’s voice behind Amelia. “Amelia, did that old lady tell her about our smuggling?” “Mr. Kingsley, I extracted the victim’s DNA!” Charles’s assistant worked all night and finally got some DNA from my body. “Send it to the Serology Unit. We’ll know the victim’s identity soon!” I saw Charles staring intently at the vial in his assistant’s hand, torn about destroying it. “Mr. Kingsley, I’ve been up all night. I’m going to catch some sleep. Please hand it over to the Serology Unit!” his assistant left, yawning. Charles stood there, hesitating for a long time. Professional ethics wouldn’t let his destroy the DNA. But he knew he had already messed up by helping Amelia dispose of the body. Now, he was her accomplice. If she got caught, so would he. While Charles was still hesitating, he heard a knock on the door. he opened it. It was Amelia. “What are you doing here?” Amelia didn’t wait for his to finish and walked in, closing the door behind her. “I missed you.” She reached out to touch his hand. Charles sighed, “If someone sees you, we’re in trouble. You need to leave!” Amelia ignored his, taking a stroll around the lab. When she looked at my body on the autopsy table, she tentatively asked, “What did the police find out?” Charles shook his head and instinctively covered a DNA container with a file. Amelia noticed his odd behavior but didn’t call his out. She stepped forward and hugged his tightly, saying, “Charles, come back to me. I truly love you!” “I’ve always said Eleanor wasn’t right for you. If it weren’t for her, Carol wouldn’t be dead. she worked so hard to raise you. she never got to enjoy a single day of peace before Eleanor killed her…” Charles got angry the moment Amelia mentioned me. “Don’t bring her up again. She killed my mom. Just thinking about her makes me sick. I should never have agreed to be with her!” Does he feel disgusted? Yes. In Charles’s heart, only Amelia mattered. If it wasn’t to make Amelia jealous, he wouldn’t have agreed to be with me. But I truly loved him. I valued him more than my own life. Now, looking back, it all seems so ridiculous. Amelia held Charles’s hand. he quickly allowed her intimate actions. I shouted anxiously from the side, “Charles, don’t listen to her. Carol was killed by her! She is the real murderer!” But unfortunately, I’m just a ghost now, and he can’t hear me. “Charles, come back to me.” Amelia raised her head and kissed his lips. “Charles, stop rejecting me. Think of it as revenge on Eleanor, okay?” “No! No! Charles, how could you do this to Carol?” I screamed desperately. But I’m just a ghost. I can’t do anything. Next, Charles started undressing Amelia. They made love right in front of me. I helplessly crouched in the corner, watching it all. I suddenly hated why I could only be a ghost. I hated myself for being so helpless. Soon, they were done. Charles went to the bathroom to freshen up. Seeing he wasn’t around, Amelia took out the DNA sample she had prepared and swapped it with mine. She knew if the police found out this body was mine, she’d be finished. After tidying up, Charles left the bathroom and noticed Amelia was gone. he sighed in relief and stood at the workbench. After a moment’s thought, he decided to send the DNA sample from the body to the Serology Unit for testing. he had made up his mind in the bathroom. Helping Amelia with the body was his first mistake. he couldn’t keep making wrong choices. he couldn’t betray his knowledge. he owed the deceased justice! No matter the outcome of the investigation, no matter the punishment, he would accept it. Charles took the DNA sample to the Serology Unit. On his way back, he ran into Isaac. Seeing him, he anxiously asked, “Mr. Kingsley, has Eleanor contacted you recently? We’ve been calling her, but she hasn’t answered.” Charles realized he hadn’t heard from Eleanor all week. Seeing he shake his head, Isaac grew worried. “Eleanor isn’t the type to avoid problems. It’s been a week with no contact. Could something have happened to her?” Charles felt something was off too. Eleanor wasn’t the type to disappear out of anger. It was indeed strange not to hear from her for so long. Charles took out his phone. Eleanor’s last message to him was nine days ago at 7:23 PM. She called him three times in a row. After that, she never called again. Her last WhatsApp message was nine days ago. After Eleanor sent him a “Good morning,” she stopped messaging. Her Instagram hasn’t been updated either. A sense of foreboding crept into Charles’s heart. “Maybe Eleanor went abroad to relax?” Isaac quickly shook his head. After a moment of hesitation, he slowly said, “Eleanor went to investigate the truth behind your mom’s death.” Charles found it odd. he thought Carol was killed by Eleanor’s enemies, so there was no need for an investigation. “Eleanor discovered that those thugs specifically targeted your mom, not for revenge.” “They wanted to kill my mom?” Charles didn’t believe it. he thought Carol was just an ordinary woman; no one would want to kill her. “We don’t know the exact reason either, so Eleanor took leave to investigate. She didn’t want us to tell you, fearing you’d worry.” “Did she find anything?” Isaac shook his head, “We don’t know. We lost contact with her nine days ago.” Charles took out his phone and kept calling Eleanor. But no matter how many times he dialed, he got the same automated message. “The number you have dialed is currently switched off…” Seeing Charles’s anxious look, Isaac knew he still cared about Eleanor, which reassured him. “Couples always have their fights. Don’t stay mad too long. When you find Eleanor, have a good talk with her!” Charles thought he could ask the neighbors. If Eleanor had been back, someone would have seen her. But when he asked the neighbors he knew, they all said they hadn’t seen her for days. One neighbor said the last time he saw her was on Commerce Lane. he was on his way to the supermarket to get cheap eggs and ran into her. he greeted her and saw her enter a hardware store. he was in a hurry to get the cheap eggs, so he left. A hardware store? Charles remembered seeing a business card for a hardware store in Eleanor’s closet. So, he rushed home to find that card. Charles emptied out the clothes from my closet. Finally, he found the card buried deep inside. At the same time, he discovered a file folder hidden at the bottom. Inside was a kidney donation agreement. A few years ago, Charles was diagnosed with kidney failure and needed a transplant. I secretly got tested and found I was a match. So, I donated one of my kidneys to him. But I never told him. I didn’t want him to feel obligated to be with me out of gratitude. I love him, and I didn’t want him to carry that burden. Seeing the documents, Charles realized I had donated a kidney. “Left kidney?” Seeing those words, Charles was shocked. he vaguely remembered that the body had also donated a left kidney. “This can’t be. It shouldn’t be possible!” Charles started trembling uncontrollably. That ominous thought crept back into his mind. he thought, “Could that body be Eleanor?” Just then, Charles’s phone rang. A colleague from the Serology Unit called, saying the DNA test results were in, and they couldn’t find a match in the database. Hearing this, Charles sighed in relief. Everyone’s DNA in the police department is recorded in the database. If the Serology Unit couldn’t match the DNA, it meant the body wasn’t Eleanor. To be sure, Charles asked, “Did you also compare the deceased’s DNA with our database?” “We tried, but we found no matches.” With this confirmation, Charles finally felt at ease. Good, that person wasn’t Eleanor. Floating beside Charles, I could only sigh helplessly. Amelia had already swapped the DNA extracted from the body, so it couldn’t possibly match mine. Charles tried calling Eleanor several more times, but still couldn’t get through. he decided to send her a WhatsApp message instead. [I’ve figured it all out. Let’s talk.] Three hours passed, and Eleanor still hadn’t replied. Charles checked Twitter and saw her last login was nine days ago. Her music app showed she last listened to a song nine days ago too. Did she just vanish? Charles put away the hardware store’s business card. he planned to visit after work tomorrow. After all, that might be the last place Eleanor was seen. The next day at work, Charles was distracted all morning. In the cafeteria at lunch, a colleague from the Serology Unit noticed his distraction and teased, “Mr. Kingsley, what’s up? Did Ms. Sutton take your soul on vacation with her?” “Don’t be ridiculous!” Charles rolled his eyes, embarrassed, and took a bite of his food. “Mr. Kingsley, that’s a piece of rosemary!” his assistant also noticed he wasn’t hisself all morning. The Serology Unit colleague complained, “You should just take some time off. The sample you gave me yesterday was full of impurities. Good thing I know what I’m doing, or I wouldn’t have been able to extract anything!” “That’s impossible. I extracted that sample myself. I guarantee it was 100% up to standard!” The assistant was confident in their skills. Hearing this, Charles suddenly remembered the lab had surveillance cameras. If anyone found out Amelia was there yesterday, it would be trouble. he immediately put down his fork, skipped lunch, and rushed back to the studio to destroy yesterday’s surveillance footage. Charles pulled up yesterday’s surveillance. The footage showed him going to the restroom, leaving Amelia alone in the studio. he saw her switch the DNA samples! Why would she do that? Charles didn’t have time to think. his top priority now was to re-extract a sample. The body had already been processed by him, making it extremely difficult to find DNA. Charles didn’t give up. Finally, he extracted the last bit of DNA and immediately sent it to his colleague in the Serology Unit. he waited outside, wanting to know the results as soon as possible. his phone rang. It was Amelia. “Charles, I miss you. Can you come see me?” Amelia’s voice sounded like she was drunk. “I’m at work right now,” Charles replied patiently. “Charles, can you really leave me alone? Don’t you love me anymore?” Amelia pleaded. He frowned. Then he agreed, “Wait for me. I’ll be right there!” he hung up the phone. Charles headed to the hotel location Amelia had sent. In less than half an hour, he was in the hotel room. Amelia, clearly drunk, tried to kiss Charles as soon as he walked in. I looked at her sleazy face, wanting to kill her. But I couldn’t hurt her now. I could only cover my ears and stand in the corner with my eyes closed. After they finished, Amelia, drunk, fell asleep. Charles quickly got dressed and glanced at her lying on the bed before leaving. Her had a scar on his abdomen. That scar was from donating a kidney to him. Because of this, he was always grateful to her. So when she asked his to help dispose of a body, he agreed, thinking of that kidney. At this moment, Charles noticed something off about Amelia’s scar. he walked over and touched it. The scar was smooth, without any raised tissue. Charles wet his fingers and rubbed it; the scar started to fade. “This scar is fake?” Charles examined Amelia’s abdomen and found no signs of surgery. That meant she never donated a kidney. “The kidney inside me isn’t from you?” Charles was furious, his face turning red. Hearing this, I understood everything. It turns out Amelia took my place. The kidney I donated was credited to him. Now I understood why Charles always said he owed her a huge favor he could never repay whenever I got jealous. he found out she never donated a kidney to him. So all those things he did to repay her, what were they for? She had been using and deceiving him all along. How could he have been so foolish to trust a liar? Charles was extremely angry. his phone ringing brought his back to his senses. A call came in from a colleague at the Serology Unit. Charles grabbed his things and stepped outside to take the call. “Charles, you need to come back to the office immediately.” The colleague didn’t directly tell his the results. Charles wanted to know the outcome. Just then, he saw a WhatsApp message from Isaac pop up on his phone screen. [We found Eleanor.]

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